#she was TERRIFIED of the little girl who lived in her closet... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slaymitchabernathy · 3 months ago

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The Legacy

“Daddy! Daddy look what Mommy did to my hair!”

Coriolanus looks down at his daughter, his heart and soul. His Ceraphina.

Born four years ago on a stormy night, Ceraphina stole his heart and never gave it back. She’s been an absolute light in their lives, always making them laugh and smile.

She looks nearly identical to Soarynn which only furthers his need to protect her, to always keep her safe from any harm that might come her way. It often leads him to wonder what their other children might look like should they have more. Soarynn has spoken about it many times, expanding their family and giving Ceraphina a sibling but only time will tell.

He smiles down at his daughter who proudly shows him the bow that Soarynn has fastened in her wavy blonde hair. Many things can be said for the Snow family and what they’re known for.

Some view him as a dictator rather than a President although most people who think that live in the Districts. They have no love for him or his family. Others see him as a wonderful President who only has the best intentions for his beloved country. Those are the people who he’s gladly welcoming into his home tonight for the Presidential Gala.

He’s just about finished with getting ready but he’ll always have a moment to spare for his darling daughter who gazes up at him with eyes identical to her mother’s. “Well, don’t you look fabulous darling? And this bow? Some of the best work I’ve ever seen. You’re sure to be the center of attention tonight.”

Ceraphina’s eyes dazzle at his words of praise and she smiles, “Thank you, Daddy! I can’t wait to go to the chocolate fountain.” Coriolanus grins because he knows that Ceraphina would spend the rest of her life next to the chocolate fountain if she could. It’s also Soarynn’s favorite part of the dessert table which further proves that Ceraphina is her twin.

“Yes, after you eat all your dinner hmm?” He asks while fixing his tie. He can't afford to look bad tonight, not with the amount of cameras that will be snapping pictures of them. Ceraphina’s small hands grip the marble countertop as she tries to peer at her reflection but she’s still too little to see.

Coriolanus scoops her up and places her on the counter, basking in her giggles when he tickles her. “Tickle monster!” She cries, shrieking with laughter. When Ceraphina was younger, she was terrified of sleeping alone in her bedroom due to her fear of the closet and what lay inside of it when the lights were out.

It got to the point where she’d bawl her eyes out when Soarynn or Coriolanus tried to put her to sleep. It didn’t matter how many books they read or how many songs Soarynn sang, she refused to be left alone. Coriolanus could easily see where the problem was going and how it would lead to Ceraphina sleeping in their bed and he just couldn’t have that.

So, the tickle monster was born.

He told Ceraphina that there was a monster in the closet and that he was very good friends with the monster and sometimes the monster took over and tortured her with tickles. It solved the problem rather quickly which he was glad for, even though Soarynn hated how he got her riled up right before bedtime.

“He’s returned,” Coriolanus agrees, sneaking in a few more tickles before ceasing his attack. Ceraphina giggles and turns to look at their reflections, her blue-gray eyes going wide when she sees herself. “Daddy?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Do I look pretty like Mommy?”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at the question and he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course you do darling. Your Mommy is the most beautiful woman in all of Panem and you are the most beautiful girl in all of Panem. No one could ever compare to the two of you.”

Ceraphina smiles and nods at her reflection as if all is right in the world after receiving that answer, “Do I look like Mommy?”

Coriolanus hums and grabs his favorite cologne before liberally applying it to his neck, he can’t afford to smell bad either. “Yes darling, you and Mommy are practically twins. You’re a spitting image of her.” She truly is, with her wavy hair and her startling eyes. Coriolanus is glad that Ceraphina has taken after Soarynn when it comes to looks.

Soarynn who has been so openly praised for her youthful beauty and charming personality, her kind demeanor, and her graceful femininity. Soarynn is perfect which automatically makes Ceraphina perfect since she spends nearly every waking moment with her.

With an entire country to run, Coriolanus doesn’t get to see Ceraphina a lot during the week. Soarynn however, has dedicated her every waking moment to taking care of their daughter and Coriolanus couldn’t be more pleased with her devotion as a mother.

It’s as if her ears are burning because a moment later, Soarynn walks into the bathroom looking gorgeous as always. She’s dressed in a floor-length gown, black to match his own attire it seems. The dress is strapless and clings to her figure in a most flattering way and it has a slit going up her right leg. Her hair is cascading down her back, flawless as always, and her face, her beautiful face.

Coriolanus nearly gets lost looking at it until Ceraphina voices his feelings for him.

“Mommy you look so pretty!”

Soarynn smiles at their daughter who thinks of her mother as the moon and stars and places a loving hand on her cheek, “Thank you my sweet darling. And don’t you look so beautiful in your pink dress? Did you show your father your bow?”

Ceraphina nods proudly, eyeing Coriolanus to confirm that she did in fact show off her hair bow. He chuckles and places a hand on Soarynn’s waist, admiring the stunning creature that is his wife, “She did, in fact, we were just talking about how you two look alike.”

Soarynn’s smile widens as she runs a loving hand through Ceraphina’s hair, “Well if I’m half as kind as you are darling then that’s more than enough for me. Now why don’t you go find nanny so she can help you with your shoes?”

Ceraphina pouts but one stern look from Coriolanus quickly resolves any tantrums and Soarynn carefully helps her down from the counter before she runs off to find her nanny.

Rarely do they ever enlist the help of others, of outsiders, but on nights like this where the drinks are flowing and their attention is pulled every which way, a nanny is more than necessary.

Coriolanus pulls Soarynn against him and she giggles, allowing him to press kisses up and down her neck, “You’re terribly possessive darling,” she purrs, her nails gently scratching up and down the back of his neck, his favorite spot.

Coriolanus places one last kiss before pulling away and staring her in the eyes, nearly losing his breath in the process, “Only with you my love,” he assures her, “only with you.”

Soarynn sighs and rests her head on his shoulder, seemingly content for them to just stay here instead of going downstairs to the Gala that awaits them. “Remind me of anyone important tonight,” she murmurs, her hand instantly finding his.

Coriolanus places a kiss on her temple before answering, “Quintus Heavensbee for starters, also the new Head Game Maker, Arthus Crane, and his wife will be attending.” Soarynn hums and her hand comes to rest on the necklace she almost always wears, a locket with photos of Coriolanus, Ceraphina, and Petunia.

Speaking of Petunia…where is she?

Coriolanus doesn’t mind his wife’s cat for the most part but he does always make sure to keep her tucked away when they have guests over like this.

"Well I'm sure tonight will be wonderful," Soarynn says with a sigh, "I just hope that Ceraphina will go down without a fuss." Ceraphina is a sweet angelic child, however, she often refuses to go to bed during things like this where she feels like she's leaving the party. She eventually gives in but it can be rather tiresome when Soarynn and Coriolanus have guests to entertain.

He gives her an encouraging squeeze, "It'll be perfect darling. I promise."

꧁ ꧂

"Oh, she's just precious."

Coriolanus basks in the compliments that Ceraphina receives while she plays on the grass with her teddy bear. It's normally frowned upon for children to be playing on the dirty ground during a party but Ceraphina, it seems, is the only exception. And besides, the Mansion's grounds are so well kept, not a blade of grass is out of place.

"You'd do well to give her a sibling to play with," Festus Creed says to him, nudging Coriolanus with his elbow. Coriolanus looks over at Soarynn who's standing amongst her own friends, laughing whilst sipping their champagne.

He'd love another child, she'd love another child. Perhaps they should really start trying again. Soarynn never got her implant put back in after giving birth to Ceraphina, but they haven't been keeping track of her cycle to know exactly when to really try.

Perhaps it's time to start back up again.

"I'll work on that," he says teasingly, taking a drink of his whiskey. The Gala is going extremely well, photos have been taken, compliments given and drinks have been flowing.

"Ceraphina darling, it's time for bed," Soarynn calls, approaching their pouting daughter. All the women fawn over how adorable she is when interacting with Soarynn who easily calms their daughters pouting with the promise of Petunia sleeping in her room.

Ceraphina loves Petunia, she’s always chasing her around the house and forcing her to partake in her tea parties. To have Petunia spend the night in her room is a treat as special as any. And that’s seems to do the trick because moments later she’s running over to bid Coriolanus a goodnight.

“Goodnight Daddy! I’ll see you in the morning!”

Despite being the President of Panem, feared by so many and respected by few, Coriolanus doesn’t hesitate to get down on one knee to press a kiss to her cheek, “Goodnight my darling. Have the sweetest dreams.”

Ceraphina nods and runs back over to Soarynn who takes her hand and begins to lead them up the many, many stairs that lead back up to the terrace. Coriolanus watches them once they reach the top where Ceraphina’s nanny is waiting for them.

Soarynn bends down to give Ceraphina a hug and kiss goodnight before she’s entrusted with the nanny for the rest of the night.

“Persephone won’t stop complaining about how much is left to do with the nursery,” Festus groans which pulls Coriolanus back into the conversation, “she’s acting like it’ll be the end of the world if we don’t have the perfect curtains or photographs.”

Coriolanus chuckles, remembering how adamant Soarynn had been on perfecting Ceraphina’s nursery while she was pregnant with her. “Women tend to fuss over these things my friend,” Coriolanus tells him solemnly, “all we can do is foot the bill and let them do whatever they want.”

Soarynn had been an angel all things considered during her pregnancy. Despite some morning nausea and the occasional snippy attitude when she was nearing the end of the grueling nine months, Coriolanus had nothing to complain about.

In the end, she gave him something he could never replace.

His legacy.

꧁ ꧂

There comes a point at every party when the drinks have taken their toll on the guests, including Coriolanus.

His head is slightly buzzing with the amount of alcohol he’s consumed but some of the other guests are much worse than he is. At least he can stand.

“I’ve heard rumors of an uprising in One,” Livia Cardew murmurs to his right which causes his head to snap in her direction. She’s talking to Soarynn, it’s a private conversation but he has no issue butting in where he sees fit. “We have absolutely nothing to worry about in One,” he tells Livia who rolls her eyes in return.

“Why not? Because you said so? We both know how much those people hate us Coriolanus. They’d do anything to get under our skin,” Livia says, looking at Soarynn who simply purses her lips.

Before Coriolanus can say anything, he sees a white blur run across the ballroom floor. He must be drunk because for a moment, he thought he saw Petunia. Which is impossible because Petunia is upstairs, in Ceraphina’s room asleep. They never let her roam around during things like this.

After taking a look at Soarynn’s face however, he begins to wonder if he really did imagine it.

Soarynn breaks away from the conversation without so much as a polite excuse as she walks towards the other end of the ballroom, her husband and good friend long forgotten.

“Where’s she going?” Livia asks and Coriolanus can only shake his head, “I think we both saw something. I’m not quite sure though. Would you excuse me for a moment?”

Coriolanus doesn’t wait for a reply, he just makes his way over to the doors that lead into the dining room where they always eat when they have large gatherings such as this one. Two Peacekeepers are stationed by the doors and both nod at him once they notice his approach, “Have you seen my wife?” He asks, wondering where Soarynn could have gone.

If Petunia was down here then they definitely would have heard about it. All of Soarynn’s friends adore Petunia and always fuss over her to his dismay.

“Yes sir. She just went upstairs a minute ago. She was carrying the cat.”

Petunia was down here.

Why was Petunia down here?

How would Petunia be able to get all the way downstairs if she was in Ceraphina’s room?

Coriolanus frowns while he tries to come up with a reasonable answer as to why Petunia was downstairs when he hears a scream.

Soarynn’s scream.

And he’s running. Running down the great hall. Running up the stairs. Running towards Ceraphina’s room where he finds the doors wide open, Petunia darting out and down the hall.

What he finds inside the room is blood curdling.

Soarynn on her knees, stifling her sobs while staring at Ceraphina’s nanny, dead on the ground.

His eyes dart to the pink canopy bed where Ceraphina sleeps and he finds it empty.

Empty.

Someone took her.

Someone took his daughter. His baby girl.

“Ceraphina?” He calls, looking around to see if maybe she’s hiding somewhere. She loves to hide, to play games like hide-and-seek but this isn’t a game, it’s not funny. “Ceraphina Snow come out here this instant,” he says, his voice wavering despite wanting to sound authoritative.

Soarynn gasps for air and he turns his attention to her, to his beautiful wife sobbing in the floor, “Soarynn? Soarynn darling what happened? Who did this? Are you hurt?”

Soarynn shakes her head, going to wipe her tears but deciding against it at the last moment. She has nothing to hide here. “They took her Coriolanus,” she whispers, “I don’t know who but they took her and killed the nanny.”

The Peacekeepers finally made their way up and there all wide eyed when they take in the sight of Ceraphina’s room in disarray. The bedsheets thrown off the bed, toys scattered, the nanny dead.

“Search the house,” Coriolanus tells them, “search every room, every corner, every hallway. Find my daughter.”

They immediately take off to search the rest of the house and most likely question the guests. Everyone is a suspect now.

Coriolanus crouches down and carefully wraps his arms around Soarynn’s trembling frame, “We'll find her darling, we’ll find her. She’s probably somewhere in the house.”

Soarynn lets out a whimper and his heart breaks even more, he's never seen his wife like this, unable to speak, to cope. A million thoughts race through his mind while he holds Soarynn.

Who did this? How did people get into the Mansion? Was this an inside job?

It's no secret that many people hate Coriolanus Snow and would do anything to hurt him, but taking his child is on another level. There will be hell to pay.

He can hear shouting, the guests are being questioned no doubt. This had to be done by someone they knew, someone they trusted inside of their home.

But who?

Soarynn is in no condition to get off the floor but Coriolanus can't just sit here restless while his daughter is out there somewhere, probably terrified out of her mind. "I'll be back," he says to Soarynn whose eyes have gone vacant, "I'll go find her I promise." He presses a gentle kiss to the side of her head before standing up and leaving the room.

He finds the ballroom in disarray, everyone is shouting while Peacekeepers yell even louder. Festus finds him in the crowd and grabs his arm, "Coriolanus what the hell is going on?" He shouts over the noise. His wife Persephone is right behind him and she looks flushed. The Capitolites aren't used to being pushed around it seems.

"Someone took Ceraphina," Coriolanus says, his voice hollow. Saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real. Like it's the truth. Both Festus and Persephone gasp and Persephone places her hand on her chest, "Oh my...oh my goodness. Have you searched the grounds for her? Perhaps she wanted to go play outside."

Coriolanus feels his eyes light up at the suggestion, maybe she's right, maybe Ceraphina slipped out of bed before her nanny was shot. Coriolanus forges forward towards the terrace doors, ignoring the shouts he gets from his guests asking what's warranted this treatment.

"The President's daughter has been taken!" One of the Peacekeepers shouts, causing a hush to fall over the room. "Until she is found, we will be questioning everyone who attended the Gala tonight. Everyone is a suspect until proven otherwise. If you have any information regarding her disappearance, let us know."

Coriolanus pushes the large doors open and he's hit with the evening air. Just a while ago he was out here watching his daughter play and now she's gone. He can hear and see several other Peacekeepers searching for her outside, shouting her name but he has to look for her himself.

"Ceraphina! Ceraphina where are you darling?"

Coriolanus descends the steps leading down to the grounds with haste as his eyes scan the dark landscape. The only source of light is from the greenhouse which they always lock for events like this. But maybe she slipped inside. Coriolanus begins towards the greenhouse when he steps on something.

He looks down and feels as if he might throw up.

It's her bow.

The bow that Soarynn put in her hair. The bow that Ceraphina so proudly showed him before the Gala.

Coriolanus crouches down to pick it up and feels how soft it is. She was out here, they must've taken her through the grounds, whoever they are.

"President Snow, we found something in the greenhouse!"

꧁ ꧂

'You take our children from us every year, now we took yours. Find us where it all began.'

Coriolanus reads those words over and over again.

The Rebels. People from the Districts took her.

Coriolanus crumples up the note the Peacekeepers found in the greenhouse and lets out a frustrated groan. She's truly in danger now, who knows what those District scum will do to her.

They had broken some of the glass panes of the greenhouse, slipped in, and left the note by the fountain for him to find. How long have they been planning this?

"Put the entire Capitol on lockdown," he says, his voice cold and bitter, "no one in, no one out. Stop all the trains, question anyone working at the border. Search the city street by street."

He doesn't look up from the ground but he hears feet shuffling over broken glass and he hears a few Peacekeepers mumbling, "Madam Snow."

He looks over his shoulder to see Soarynn standing in the doorway. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her hands are still shaking as she takes a slow step into the greenhouse. "Where...where is she?" Soarynn asks him. If only he could tell her.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, "I don't know," he admits, "it was the Rebels. They left a note, and...and I found this," he pulls out the bow from his pocket and holds it out to her.

Soarynn gasps at the sight and her lip trembles, "Is she going to die Coriolanus? Are they going to kill our baby girl?"

Coriolanus sets his jaw and his fingers wrap around the bow, nearly crushing it, "No. Not if I have anything to do with it. The city is on lockdown, and there's no way they already made it out. She's here somewhere we just have to know where to look."

Soarynn wipes away a tear and takes in a shaky breath, "What...what did the note say?"

Coriolanus looks back down at the crumpled piece of paper and he's already imagining killing whoever wrote that cryptic piece of shit. "They said to find them where it all began, and that they took her because we take their children."

The Hunger Games are brutal by design, a way to remind the Districts of their failure and to punish those who are seemingly "innocent."

A wave of recognition flashes over Soarynn's face and she steps towards him, "The arena," she whispers, her blue-gray eyes wide with realization, "where it all began. They took her to the old arena where we used to hold the Games, oh Coriolanus she's right under our noses."

It all clicks in his mind a moment later. She's right. They took her to the old arena where the Games were first held. An old arena that's no longer used, filled with corpses and bones no doubt.

Coriolanus gently takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze, "I'll have every man we can spare surround the arena. I'll go find her Soarynn, I promise. I'll bring her back."

New tears form in Soarynn's eyes and she's swift to blink them away, "So you won't let me go with you?"

He nearly laughs at her question. He'd be a fool to bring his other prized possession with him to the fight. Only a fool would bring his wife to a possible ambush like this one. No, she needs to stay here where she's safe.

If their home is even safe anymore.

"No. I can't lose you too Soarynn. I need you to stay here, stay with the Heavensbees. I'll have my most trusted men watch over you while the rest of the staff is questioned, I'm sure some of them were in on this." It's no secret that the Snows have a wide variety of staff, some originating from the Capitol and a few from the Districts.

Those who are from the Districts are Avoxes but you don't need a tongue to betray your employer. Many will die tonight.

Soarynn nods, staring down at the bow still in his other hand, "Bring her home."

꧁ ꧂

"It's a small group of men. Seven. And she's with them. Unharmed from what I could see. They asked for you specifically, won't say anything to us."

Coriolanus is briefed on the current situation conspiring inside the old arena and he feels himself growing more and more angry as the seconds pass. The old arena's gates have been chained shut for years now but they've been blown wide open by the Peacekeepers who are all positioned outside with trucks and lots and lots of guns.

Anyone who leaves the arena will be shot on sight.

"I'm going inside," Coriolanus tells the Commander who gives him a worried look, "I have to get her back, and I also have to pretend to consider their terms. This isn't just a hostage situation, its a negotiation."

Coriolanus isn't really asking, he's just letting the man know and he seems to recognize that. "Let me get you a vest then, can't have you getting shot." That would not be good.

Coriolanus is prepped with a bulletproof vest, a concealed gun, and a flash-bang grenade. He's dressed like he's going to war, which he would happily do for his daughter.

He watches two medic trucks pull up to the side of the arena, he hopes those won't be needed.

"We'll surround them from above, just keep them talking and once we have a clear shot, we'll take them all down," the Commander assures him as they approach the front entrance of the arena.

When Coriolanus was a little boy, he came to this arena to watch the circus. He always took a different entrance, the entrance for the wealthy. It's fitting that these Rebels took the front entrance meant for poor people.

It's dark in the tunnel but Coriolanus can see a source of light coming from inside the arena. He pushes through the turnstiles and cringes at the loud automated voice.

"Enjoy the show!"

Coriolanus looks back at the army of Peacekeepers watching him guns ready. At least if he's chased, they'll shoot anything that pursues him but that does very little to soothe his nerves.

Coriolanus sucks in a sharp breath as he finally comes into the arena and comes face to face with a group of men and his daughter.

Ceraphina is dressed in her pajamas and is holding one of the men's hands. She seems fine, unharmed like the Commander said. Her eyes light up when she sees him, "Daddy! Daddy, you found me!"

Coriolanus pays the Rebels no mind as he smiles at his daughter who's seemingly unaware of the current situation, and he’d like to keep it that way, "I did sweetheart. I found you."

He’s still walking but one of the Rebels holds up a large gun, pointed right at him, "That's far enough." His District accent clashes with the ones from the Capitol and Coriolanus feels hatred coursing through his veins. "I've come to negotiate," he says calmly.

The men sneer and give each other looks, "We've been trying to negotiate for years, looks like you only care when we have something that belongs to you."

Coriolanus opens his mouth to respond but Ceraphina seems to have an agenda of her own, "Daddy I want Mommy!" Oh, Soarynn. Coriolanus hopes she's alright at home.

The man holding Ceraphina's hand looks down at her and nods, "You'll see your Mommy real soon, as long as your Daddy does what we tell him to do." Ceraphina doesn't seem scared of this man, or any of them for that matter, she simply nods and bounces on her toes, "Okay!"

Coriolanus turns his focus back onto his daughter's kidnappers, "Just name your terms." The ringleader it seems, steps forward with a cocky look on his face, "You're gonna stop the Hunger Games and stop taking our children. In return, we'll let her go and we won't keep showing up in your house. She's not the only one who matters to you is she?"

Now they've brought Soarynn into this, and for that, they'll have to die.

Coriolanus clenches his jaw at the threat so casually thrown at his wife, his darling girl who's worried sick about him and their daughter. "Fine, I’ll agree to your terms, but I want my daughter back first. She has nothing to do with this."

The men break into a fit of laughter as if he just told the funniest joke in the world. "She has everything to do with this! Bet you thought you'd be safe in that Mansion of yours but you aren't. The innocent must be punished."

Coriolanus spots the smallest bit of movement from the stands above them and adrenaline is coursing through his veins. He needs Cerpahina to move away from these men. He can't have her see this, not if he can help it.

“Are we done playing the game now?” Ceraphina asks with a whine, now rocking back and forth on her heels. She’s barefoot which infuriates him even further. They fucking kidnapped his daughter but couldn’t bother to get her some shoes to wear.

She’s given several nasty looks from her captors who clearly hadn’t anticipated her being so fussy but it’s past her bedtime and they’ve dragged her to the most undesirable place in the Capitol. They only have themselves to blame.

“Looks like your Daddy agreed to our terms,” the ringleader says slowly, tilting his head at Coriolanus as if taunting him, “so I guess the game is over.”

The game?

Coriolanus can only imagine what they’re talking about.

Once given a nod, the man holding onto Ceraphina’s hand lets go and she smiles up at him, “Goodbye!” Coriolanus waits with a bated breath as she slowly walks towards him, he knows she doesn’t understand but he wishes she’d walk faster. The sooner he has her in his arms, the better.

The moment Ceraphina is within reach, Coriolanus grabs her off the ground and wraps both arms around her small body, “Oh sweetheart, we were so worried about you.”

He spots more movement from above. It’s time.

Ceraphina returns his embrace and giggles, “Why were you worried Daddy? They said we were playing hide and seek, and you always find me.”

Coriolanus wishes she could always remain this innocent and naive but with attacks like this happening, he fears it may be impossible.

Coriolanus gives her a tight-lipped smile, “Yes, Daddy always finds you my darling. Now cover your ears and close your eyes very tight for me.” Ceraphina furrows her eyebrows and frowns, "Why? Why can't we play some more?"

Coriolanus can feel his patience thinning as the seconds pass but he can't snap at his darling daughter, not when she's the victim in all of this. "We can play when we get home and see Mommy. Now close your eyes and cover your ears for me sweetheart."

That seems to be enough to convince Ceraphina who squeezes her eyes shut as tightly as she can and places her hands over her ears. Coriolanus turns on his heel and he revels in the sound of guns firing and Rebels crying out as the bullets pierce their skin. Coriolanus rubs Ceraphina's back as he walks back through the tunnel, whispering soothing words even though she can't hear them.

The bullets cease and it's so quiet in the arena. It's wonderful.

And once again, Snow lands on top.

꧁ ꧂

The Mansion is empty when they return.

Guests are gone, music has ceased, the party is over.

Coriolanus quietly pads down the great hall towards one of the many sitting rooms they have, Ceraphina fast asleep in his arms.

He spots Quintus Heavensbee, his most trusted advisor standing in the hall, perking up when he spots the father-daughter duo. "Thank goodness," he whispers, clapping Coriolanius on the shoulder once they reach him, "we were so worried that neither of you would return."

Coriolanus lets out a tired sigh and places a loving hand on the back of Ceraphina's head, cradling her, "We took down the Rebel group, although now I wish we had questioned them first. Who knows how many more were aware of the plan."

Quintus shakes his head fervently, "No need to worry about that my friend. We captured four other Rebels who were in on it working in the Mansion." Coriolanus feels a newfound source of anger bubbling inside of him.

Rebels in the President's Mansion. What a fucking joke.

Quintus takes notice of his concealed anger and pats his shoulder lightly, "Let's talk about this tomorrow morning. Right now your wife and daughter need you more than ever." Ceraphina wakes at the mention of her mother and yawns, rubbing her eyes, "I want Mommy."

Both men smile at her sweet request and Quintus nods towards the doors that lead to the sitting room, "She's in there with my wife and Ms. Trinket." Coriolanus can't help but feel relieved to hear that Eudora Trinket, the woman who plans every second of his life, wasn't in on the Rebel scheme.

She’d been there for all the appointments concerning Soarynn’s pregnancy and she’d held Soarynn’s other hand when she gave birth. To lose Eudora to the Rebels would hit their family hard.

Coriolanus doesn’t waste another moment to push open the large doors revealing his wife sitting on the edge of a sofa, her knee bouncing up and down while she nervously awaits more news about the kidnapping of her daughter.

She looks up at them and gasps, her eyes focusing on Ceraphina as she stands up and crosses the room within seconds. She’s grabbing Ceraphina from his arms, cradling her, kissing her face, assessing her for damage all while trying not to cry.

“Oh my sweet darling,” Soarynn whispers, pressing a kiss to her head, “I was so worried about you. Thank goodness you’re safe.” Coriolanus wraps an arm around Soarynn’s trembling frame and rubs soothing circles on her back, “She’s alright darling, she’s safe now.”

Ceraphina simply basks in the attention she’s given from both her parents and rests a small hand on Soarynn’s cheek, “Mommy my pajamas got dirty.” Soarynn presses a small kiss to her hand and hums, “Mommy will give you a nice bath sweetheart, and then you can sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s room tonight.”

Coriolanus already knows how this will go, the never dissipating fear that will forever live in Soarynn now that she knows what it’s like to have her daughter taken from her. She’ll want Ceraphina with her all day every day.

Ceraphina’s eyes widen at the opportunity to sleep in her parent’s bedroom, something she’s never done before, “Really? Can I bring my bear?” Out of the all the stuffed animals she’s been gifted over the years, her stuffed teddy bear is by far her favorite.

Soarynn nods and runs her fingers through Ceraphina’s hair, “Yes darling, you can bring your bear.” That seems to be more than enough for Ceraphina who buries her face in Soarynn’s neck, seemingly exhausted from tonight’s events.

Soarynn lets out a shaky breath and leans into Coriolanus and his hold, “Thank you,” she whispers, her blue-gray eyes meeting his piercing blue ones, “thank you for finding her and bringing her back to me.”

Coriolanus feels himself getting choked up, their sweet baby girl could’ve died tonight and he refuses to imagine the shell of a person Soarynn would become if that happened.

So he simply holds her a little tighter and kisses her temple, “I’ll always fight to keep you two together my darling, always.”

꧁ ꧂

“Daddy look! Bubbles!”

Ceraphina’s voice is the first thing to greet Coriolanus when he walks into his bathroom. He smiles down at Ceraphina who’s sitting in the tub surrounded by bubbles and floating toys. She’s completely oblivious to what went down tonight and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

He watches Ceraphina play for a moment before watching his wife who’s sitting on her knees right next to the tub, watching Ceraphina as if she might disappear and never come back.

She almost did, he reminds himself.

He’s worried for Soarynn. Worried about how this might have affected her.

Despite Quintus and his protests, Coriolanus went over the events that conspired tonight and was able to see the other Rebels who were in on the plan. They had of course been detained but one was a Peacekeeper, two were maids and one was a gardener. He’d have them all executed before the week was over. And to ensure that they hadn’t planted any seeds of a revolution in the rest of his household staff, he’d execute them too.

Better safe than sorry.

He’d tasked a few of the remaining maids to clean up Ceraphina’s bedroom, wipe the blood off the floor. He wondered if her nanny had been in on it. Would Soarynn ever trust anyone else with the care of their daughter?

Probably not.

“Let’s get you dried off darling,” Soarynn says and Coriolanus snaps back into the present and makes his way into the closet to change out of his clothes. Hours ago he was getting dressed for the Gala so unaware of what would happen.

He dresses himself in some pajama pants before he comes back into the bathroom to wash his face and comb through his curls. He hears a meow and looks down to find Petunia watching him, her tail swishing back and forth in the air.

“Thank you,” he quietly says to the cat, “we would’ve never known if you hadn’t come downstairs to warn us.”

Petunia only blinks but it says enough to him.

He can hear Ceraphina giggling from the bedroom, not at all tired now that she’s allowed to sleep in her parent’s room. A moment later he hears her little footsteps approaching him, “Daddy! Daddy can you read me a bedtime story?”

Coriolanus grabs a towel and dries off his face, “Of course I can darling. Why don’t you get into bed and I’ll meet you there in a minute?”

An excited gasp is all he hears before she’s running back into the bedroom and Coriolanus takes a long good look in the mirror.

Will people always try to hurt his family? Will they always target the two good things in his life? Those men mentioned Soarynn, mentioned hurting her to him. Should he send the girls away? Hide them somewhere that no one knows about?

It would break Soarynn’s heart but it’s better than finding her with a bullet in her head.

He’ll talk to her more about his ideas tomorrow. They’re all exhausted from today.

When Coriolanus comes into the bedroom, Soarynn and Ceraphina are already in bed. Soarynn hasn’t changed out of her clothes from tonight but she probably doesn’t want to leave Ceraphina, even for a quick shower. She gives him a tired smile when she notices him, “She’s very excited for your bedtime story.”

Coriolanus grins and carefully slips into bed, his hand smoothing down Ceraphina’s hair that Soarynn braided down her back. She’s squished between her two parents and looks happier than ever.

“What game did you play tonight darling?” He asks her, his curiosity getting the best of him. Soarynn gives him a curious look but she wasn’t there in that arena with those men.

Ceraphina yawns, “We played hide-and-seek and they said we had to wait for you to come and find me.” Soarynn seems to have put the pieces together and she absentmindedly rubs her hand up and down Ceraphina’s back, “Were they nice to you? Did they yell or say mean things to you?”

Did they touch you?

That’s what Soarynn really wants to ask but Coriolanus can already see her holding back tears.

Ceraphina shakes her head and plays with the silk pillow case, “No. No, they didn’t yell Mommy. They said we were playing a game. Then I got scared so one of them let me hold his hand. Can I hear the story now Daddy?”

Coriolanus nods, his mind a thousand miles away from telling a bedtime story but he has to get through this first. “Of course sweetheart. Once upon a time…”

꧁ ꧂

Neither Coriolanus nor Soarynn can take their eyes off of their sleeping daughter. She’s been asleep for over an hour and yet they’re just…watching her.

“I remember when she was so little,” Soarynn whispers, her fingertips ghosting Ceraphina’s cheek, “when she was just a baby I would watch her sleep for hours. I was so terrified she’d stop breathing in her sleep. This was when you were coming home at all hours of the night, so it was really just me and her.”

Soarynn swallows down a sob, “And I would just watch her sleep. And think and pray to whoever was listening, ‘Please don’t take her. Please don’t take my daughter away from me.’ Then tonight I felt like it was some sick joke, like whoever was listening hated me and hated my daughter.”

Tears fall down Soarynn’s cheeks and Coriolanus reaches out for her, careful not to crush their sleeping daughter. “Shhh, shhh it’s alright Soarynn. She’s safe, she’s safe and no one will ever touch her again. Anyone who wanted to hurt her is dead now and they wanted to hurt her because they hated me. No one could ever hate you sweet girl.”

Soarynn shakes her head and wipes her tears, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, “They could’ve killed her Coriolanus. Or touched her or made her take something. I…I kept hoping that instead of hurting our little girl and torturing her, they’d just kill her instead. At least then she wouldn’t have to suffer.”

This attack has shaken the Snows.

They’ll be expected to give a statement to give a warning to those who try and hurt them.

Coriolanus quietly slips out of bed and rounds the other side so that he can properly hold his wife, “She’s alive Soarynn. She’s alive and she’s asleep in our bed. It’s been such a long night darling and we need to get you dressed in something else. Why don’t we go find you something else to wear?”

Soarynn shakes her head, pulling back when he tried to scoop her into his arms, “I won’t leave her Coriolanus. I’m never leaving her again.”

He sighs. His girl has always been stubborn but now she’s cemented in her mind. Surrounded by fear. “Okay,” he whispers, placing a gentle hand on her cheek, “okay then why don’t I go find you something to wear? I’ll be right back darling.”

That seems to sound better to Soarynn who nods and curls back up with Ceraphina, holding her tightly.

Coriolanus feels his hands curling into fists the second he’s out of her sight. Those men may have not touched Soarynn physically, but they did emotionally. They’ve terrified his wife and he’s going to make everyone in the Districts pay for it.

He’ll do anything to protect the ones he loves.

To protect his legacy.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

Text

a safe haven l eight

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Joel encourages you to leave Luke and live the life you deserve with him and Ellie; Luke confronts you about Joel; Ellie discovers your secret and tells Joel, leading you to make a heartbreaking decision for the good of everyone in Jackson.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. reader gets shoved and sustains an injury as a result (non life threatening). mentions of skin discoloration, the word bruise is used but no mentions of specific skin tone for reader, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. *other chapter warnings and tags include: soft Joel, domestic fluff between reader and Joel, Ellie is a little shit but we love her, death of two minor OCs, talk of grief, funeral and burial, confronation between Ellie and reader, confrontation between Joel and reader, ends with angst and a slight cliffhanger.

Word Count: 10k

News of the ambush attack spreads like a wildfire.

Jackson’s safety and security has been rattled.

One life lost and another life hangs in the balance.

People are anxious—and they’re terrified.

And who could blame anyone for feeling this way?

For the first time in a long time, their peace of mind had been completely shattered.

“Where the hell did the kid run off to?” Joel grumbles, shifting uncomfortably on the examination table.

Now that the adrenaline is beginning to wear off, he’s really starting to feel the pain in his shoulder. It had started throbbing something awful not long after you’d finished stitching him up, and the expired oxycodone tablets you had given him had very little potency left—they hadn’t done a goddamn thing to help ease his discomfort. Not that it really came as a surprise to either one of you that the two decades old painkillers hadn’t worked, but it’d been worth a shot to at least try and see if they would do him any good.

“She’s with Rose in the supply closet,” you reply, taping a piece of gauze over his wound in an effort to keep it protected until you could take him home and get him cleaned up—then you would bandage up his shoulder properly. “They’re gathering some supplies you’ll need and looking for a sling.” It’s quite foolish to be this close to Joel with Luke just mere feet away in the exam room down the hallway, but you can’t seem to help yourself. Offering him a look of empathy, you lift your hand and cup the side of his face, delicately cradling it in your palm. You softly graze your thumb over the scruff of his beard. “I know, I know. You’re itching to get out of here. I promise, as soon as Ellie comes back with the supplies you need, we’ll get you home, okay?”

Joel raises a questioning eyebrow. “We?”

You nod. “I want to help Ellie get you settled in for the night and make sure you’re comfortable.”

He lowers his voice. “But what ‘bout Luke?”

“He’s going to be tied up here at the clinic tonight. It’ll be a while before he heads home,” you assure him. Dropping your hand away from his face, it falls back down against your side as you step back, putting some distance between the both of you. It probably isn’t the wisest idea to spend the night looking after Joel considering you’re already treading on thin ice with your husband for tending to his injury earlier, but your desire to take care of the man you love simply can’t be suppressed. Sensing his unease about it, you quickly add, “But if you don’t want me to, then I completely understand.”

Holding your breath, you anxiously wait for his response.

Part of you almost hopes he’ll say that he doesn’t.

One of you needs to be the voice of reason, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be you.

“No, that ain’t it—that ain’t it at all, sweet girl,” Joel says, shooting you a stern glare for even suggesting such a thing. “‘Course I want you to come home with me and Ellie. Just don’t want you riskin’ your neck for us. I don’t want you gettin’ yourself in some kinda trouble with Luke, that’s all.”

You flash him a small, wry smile. “I’ll be fine, Joel.”

That can’t be further from the truth.

But he doesn’t have to know that.

He doesn’t have to know you’ll be in for it when you’re finally home alone with Luke.

“We hit the fucking jackpot,” Ellie announces, walking into the room. She has an old, brown canvas bag slung over her shoulder and in her hands she holds a sling for Joel’s arm. “Well, sorta. Rose said this is the only adult size the clinic has in stock, so it’s more of a loaner. She said we’ll have to bring it back as soon as his shoulder heals. It’s seen better days,” she remarks, holding it out to you. “But it should do the job.”

Taking the sling from her, you start helping Joel into it. “What about the list I gave you?” you ask her over your shoulder as you adjust the thicker strap around his neck. “Did she get you everything that I wrote down?”

Clicking her tongue, Ellie double checks the bag.

“Uh, let’s see—saline, clean bandages, and a vial of penicillin.”

“And what about the syringes?”

“She could only give me three of them since stock is too low,” she replies. “That okay?”

You shrug. “We’ll have to make it work. We can always clean and boil the needles if we have to.” You tug the strap around Joel’s neck lightly making sure you’d fastened it securely, but not too tightly, either. You touch his arm. “That feel okay, honey?” The pet name slips out, falling from your lips before you even have the chance to catch it. Blood rushes to your face and your cheeks start to burn—even with your back turned to Ellie, you can feel the smirk that’s now plastered on her face.

“Aww,” she teases. “Honey. How fucking cute is that?”

“Ellie,” Joel says her name warningly as you pick up his bloodied denim shirt and drape it over him in an effort to cover him up. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t start.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Ellie pauses, her smirk widening as she slyly adds under her breath, “Honey.”

“Jesus, it’s like this place turned into a fucking ghost town or something,” Ellie observes, glancing around as the three of you make your way down Main Street and head towards the residential side of town. “Where the hell did everybody fucking go? Did we miss something?”

“Maria must have sent out a message to call off all of today’s evening work duties,” you tell her. Even though there isn’t anyone else outside, you keep a healthy distance in between you and Joel as you walk beside him. “The last time that something like this happened, she let everyone take the night off so they could be with their families and mourn. She might even cancel tomorrow’s duties too, if she hasn’t already.”

Ellie lets out a small, understanding hum. “I see.”

“So someone dies and everythin’ just stops?” Joel asks, lightly shaking his head at the thought. “Just like that?”

“Jackson isn’t like the zones,” you remind him. “We’re a community. We all love and care for one another, and when we have a loss, it hits people hard. Peter was a husband and a friend who everyone adored. It’s not like he was some faceless number working himself to the bone to earn just enough rations to survive.” You look around the empty streets, shrugging lightly as you shove both of your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “Here in Jackson, we don’t toss bodies carelessly into a big fire pit and walk away without giving it a second thought. We bury our dead together—we grieve together. We’re still human, Joel. We can’t let the world outside these walls make us forget our humanity.”

“S’ppose you’re right,” he agrees, quietly.

The sun’s just starting to set by the time the three of you make it to Joel and Ellie’s.

“Careful, Joel,” Ellie fusses, looping her arm through his as she guides him up the steps of their front porch. “Careful, careful, careful—”

“Ellie!” he snaps irritably. “I got shot in the shoulder, not in the fuckin’ kneecap. I can fuckin’ walk just fine.”

Ellie glances over her shoulder at you, scoffing. “It honestly blows my fucking mind that you have the hots for this.” She jerks her chin towards him and rolls her eyes. “Seriously, how does someone like him even manage to pull someone like you? Pretty sure it wasn’t his incredible personality or dashing good looks that reeled you in, so what kind of voodoo spell did my old man put your ass under, princess?”

Joel glares at her. “Now you listen here y’little shit—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you cut him off. “Knock it off, both of you.” Putting a hand on his lower back, you request, “Ellie can you get the door, please?”

She nods. Letting go of Joel’s arm, she reaches into one of the back pockets of her blue jeans. She digs out her single house key and quickly unlocks the front door, ushering you both inside. “His room’s upstairs,” Ellie informs you as she flips on the lights in the foyer and leads the way up the staircase. She beckons with her hand for you to follow her down the hallway and opens the door to Joel’s bedroom. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“For you two to stop makin’ a huge fuss over me so I can lay down and get some fuckin’ rest?” Joel hopes. “M’exhausted.”

“Soon enough,” you promise him. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“S’that door there on the left.” He pauses, shooting you a quizzical look. “Why? What are you gonna do?”

“Run a bath to get you all cleaned up, of course.”

“Gross.” Ellie makes a face at you. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to fly solo on that one, princess. I refuse to help you give the old man a sponge bath.”

You laugh lightly, not the slightest bit surprised by her reaction. “Fair enough. How about you go downstairs and fix him something to eat while I help him wash up?”

“Don’t have to fucking tell me twice!” Ellie whirls around on the heels of her sneakers, booking it for the door. She sings out over the shoulder, “Behave yourselves in there, you two! Don’t forget there’s an innocent child present under this roof and she doesn’t need to hear you guys bumping uglies!”

Flustered, you look down at your boots.

“Ellie!” Joel bellows her name, angrily. Before he has the chance to reprimand her, she scurries out of the room and flies down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Choking back a nervous chuckle, you pivot on your heel and walk into his bathroom. You make your way over to the porcelain tub and turn on the faucet. You kneel beside it as you wait for it to fill with water, occasionally dipping your hand into the water to check the temperature.

“M’real sorry ‘bout her,” Joel apologizes from the door.

“It’s quite alright,” you assure him, despite the heat burning your face and neck from the teenager’s teasing. As soon as the tub is full, you shut off the faucet and stand up. You must have risen to your feet too quickly—a wave of dizziness sweeps over you and for a second, the room spins. Blinking furiously, you brush it off and beckon with a hand for Joel. “Bath’s ready. Come here.”

“Peach, you don’t gotta do this for me, y’know.”

“I know, Joel.”

“M’perfectly capable of cleanin’ myself up.”

“Yeah Joel, I know that too,” you say. “Now come here, please.”

Sighing, Joel slowly makes his way over towards you, taking your hand in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve done more than enough for me today, darlin’. I appreciate you for wantin’ to take care of me, but you don’t—”

You cut him off by tenderly pressing your mouth to his. “Then please, for the sake of what little sanity I have left tonight, just let me,” you murmur quietly against his lips. You reach up, pushing his soiled shirt off of his shoulders, letting the torn, bloodied denim fall to the floor behind him in a crumpled heap. You place your palm on his bare chest, right over his heart and feel it thrum strong and steady beneath your fingertips. Perring up at him, you ask, “Will you let me take care of you, Joel? Please?”

He sighs again, this time in defeat. “It really ain’t fair, y’know.”

“What’s not fair?”

Joel brushes a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“The fact that I can’t ever fuckin’ say no to you.”

With a satisfied smile, you start to help him out of the sling, setting it on the counter. You then take off his belt, unbutton his jeans, and pull down his zipper for him.

“Turn around,” he says, kicking off his boots.

Amused, you cock an eyebrow at him. “Joel, are you kidding me?” He nods and you shake your head at him, reminding him, “I’ve seen you naked plenty of times before.”

“Never in the light,” he counters, sheepishly. “S’always in the dark.”

You lean forward and kiss his collarbone, eliciting a tiny groan from him. “Joel, please,” you mumble against his warm skin. “Don’t be silly. Now come on, let’s hurry before Ellie comes back upstairs with your dinner.” You take a step back and tug at his jeans, pulling them down his legs along with his boxer briefs. After dumping his dirty clothes into the woven laundry basket behind the door, you help him into the bathtub.

Joel hisses out in relief as he sinks into the water.

Once he’s settled in, you kneel beside it once again.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels good,” he remarks, the hot water easing the aches in his bones that have nothing to do with his injury and everything with his age. “Real fuckin’ good.”

Cupping your hands together, you dip them into the water and start wetting his hair. You can’t help but smile when you notice how it curls more so than usual when it’s wet. “Scoot forward and then lean back a little. I’m going to wash your hair—I don’t want to soak the gauze on your shoulder.” Reaching across him, you grab his bottle of shampoo, twisting the cap off. You pour some of the product into your palm and set the bottle back down. After lathering the shampoo between your hands, you start running the suds through his damp locks.

“Christ,” Joel’s eyes roll into the back of his head as soon as you start massaging his scalp. “Fuck, sweetheart. Y’know, I think I could get used to this,” he admits with a sigh of content. “Feels fuckin’ incredible.”

You smile again, opening your mouth to speak, but then immediately clamp it shut.

Suddenly, you’re feeling a little off—something doesn’t feel right.

Brows knitting together in confusion, your smile falters.

Normally, you love the scent of Joel’s shampoo.

You can’t even begin to count all the nights you’d hold him in your arms, breathing in the earthiness of jojoba oil combined with calming lavender from his hair as he rested his head on your chest. It’s usually fairly subtle, however now, as you wash his hair, the scent seems heavier and much more potent than usual—it makes your stomach churn violently and you can taste the bile as it slowly creeps its way up your throat. Pausing, you take a brief moment to breathe your way through the wave of nausea and swallow back the bitterness, willing yourself not to be sick right there in his bath. Worried you actually might, you drop your hands from his hair, close your eyes, and sit back on your heels as you wait for the feeling to subside.

“Baby.” You hear the water slosh around him. He tries reaching out for you with his injured arm, but grimaces, unable to make it very far before a sharp pain shoots through his shoulder. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

After a minute, it passes. You open your eyes only to meet Joel’s as he watches you with concern. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong, darlin’? You feelin’ alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Leaning forward, you lift your hands to continue washing his hair. Shrugging dismissively, you realize, “I think I just need to eat something. It’s been a while since my last meal.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast,” you reluctantly admit. “I had quite a bit of work to do at the stables, so I decided to skip lunch today, and before you scold me for it, I know I shouldn’t have worked through lunch.” You flash him a crooked little grin as he pins you with a disapproving frown. “I promise I’ll eat something as soon as I get home, Joel.”

“You’d better.”

After rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, you take his washcloth and lather it up using his bar of castile soap.

“How’s the water, honey? Does it still feel alright?” you ask him sweetly, running the wet, soapy washcloth over his chest and neck. You’re careful to keep it away from his injured shoulder. Leaning over the side of the bathtub, you start washing his side, being gentle as you sweep over the bruise he’d gotten from falling off of his horse during the attack. A lock of hair falls loose from your ponytail and into your face.

Joel lifts his hand out of the water, tucking it behind your ear. “S’perfect,” he murmurs, his hand grazing your cheek. Water drips off of his arm and lands on your camisole, soaking through the thin cotton. “Looks like you’re gonna have to take off your shirt, peach. Got’cha wet.” He chuckles at his own awful innuendo.

“You’re unbelievable, Joel! I just pulled a bullet out of your shoulder, and you’re already thinking of getting me naked,” you tease him with a giggle. “Oh, and by the way, I hope you know that there will be none of that for a while, not until you’re all healed up. Got it?”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious.” His face falls when he realizes that you aren’t joking. “But you said it could be four to six weeks until I heal. How am I s’pposed to go that fuckin’ long without touchin’ you?”

Giggling again, you give his chest a gentle pat. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Rolling his eyes at you, Joel grumbles incoherently underneath his breath.

“Oh, come here, you big grump.” You lean forward and press a delicate kiss to his right temple. Your lips linger over the small, jagged scar near his hairline, causing him to shudder slightly.

Joel hasn’t vocalized it to you, but you know that of all the scars he possesses, the one on his temple is the scar he’s the most self-conscious about, especially now that you know how he’d gotten it.

“You know, you were right about Ellie,” you murmur softly against his skin. “About her knowing. You were right to warn me that night.”

He frowns. “She confronted you ‘bout us?”

Pulling away from him, you nod. “She sure did.”

“Well, I reckon that explains why she was givin’ us so much shit earlier,” he huffs, shaking his head. “When did this happen?”

“Earlier this afternoon, when we were alone at the stables,” you answer. “She offered to work through lunch with me and it was just the two of us. It happened just before Tommy showed up and told us you had been shot.”

Joel grimaces. “Might regret askin’ this, but what did she say?”

You chew nervously on your bottom lip.

“She said she wants me to leave Luke.”

His eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

He knew his kid was pretty bold, but to go as far as telling you to leave your husband was pretty ballsy, even for her. He should reprimand her for it, but he can’t fault her for being brave enough to do what he still hasn’t mustered up the courage to do himself. “She did? What else did she say to you?”

“That the three of us could be a family together. A real family.” You drop the washcloth into the water and rest both arms on the edge of the tub as you continue filling him in on the encounter between you and Ellie. “She said it wasn’t complicated—that all I had to do was take off the ring, pack up my things, and leave him. She also said that I could just move in here and live with you two.” Pausing, you let out a small, breathy laugh. “I told her I would love that more than anything, but I can’t. It just isn’t possible. I can’t leave my husband.”

His jaw clenches, teeth gritting together. “‘Cause he won’t fuckin’ let you.”

You can’t help yourself and you laugh again.

Now you’re absolutely sure of it. Joel and Ellie really are cut from the same cloth.

You breathe out a long, melancholic sigh.

“Joel, I love you. And I’ve grown to love Ellie, too. You both make me happy,” you tell him, softly. “Ever since you two came into my life, something in me changed. It was almost like I’d forgotten what it felt like to love and to be loved in return. I thought I’d lost that part of me when I lost my father two years ago. I thought that part of me had died along with him. His loss left left me feeling so empty. It left a void inside of me—but you and Ellie have filled it. It’s kind of silly, but sometimes I honestly think he sent you two to me. It’s almost like he knew I needed you.”

His eyes soften. “Ain’t silly at all, darlin’.”

“You both mean so fucking much to me,” you confess.

“And you mean so fuckin’ much to us—you belong with us, peach. Your place is with us. Your home, it ain’t with Luke. It’s here, with me and with Ellie.”

“I know, trust me, I know that Joel. But I can’t—”

Joel sits up straight in the tub, wincing slightly.

“Joel, stop. Come on, you need to take it easy.”

Placing both hands on his chest, you try to push him back against the tub, but Joel’s hand reaches up and catches one of your wrists. He lightly curls his fingers around it. “Don’t you think it’s what your dad would want?” he questions. “You think he’d want you to be livin’ a life of misery with Luke?”

“Of course he wouldn’t. But I can’t leave him, Joel.”

“Look, whatever it is that you’re afraid of—”

“Joel, please,” you whisper, thickly. “Don’t do this.”

“You ain’t gotta be afraid, baby. I can protect you. I can keep you safe.” His thumb lightly caresses the thin, delicate skin on the inside of your wrist as his eyes meet yours. “I mean it. I can keep you safe, my sweet girl. I would never let anythin’ bad happen. I swear it. I wouldn’t let anythin’ bad happen to you, and neither would the kid. She loves you too goddamn much.”

You swallow the emotional lump in your throat.

Lifting your wrist, Joel feathers a gentle kiss on the inside of it. He feels your pulse racing against his lips. “You’d be alright with us, y’know.”

“I know I would.”

“Then what the hell’s stoppin’ you?” Joel challenges. “We’re your family, baby. We’ve got you. No matter what—me and Ellie, we’ve got you, peach.”

Joel makes it sound so simple, so fucking easy.

But he doesn’t know Luke the way you know Luke.

He won’t let you go, not without some kind of fight.

And Joel Miller wouldn’t be afraid to fight back.

He would kill Luke, if it came down to it.

After a moment’s silence, you finally speak.

“Just—just give me a little time so I can figure things out, okay?” you bargain with him. “I need some time to sort things out.” Before Joel can even ask you what you’re talking about, you cut him off and shoot him a pleading look. “Please, Joel. Please. I’m just asking for some time, that’s all. If I can have it my way, I’ll be living here with you and Ellie before winter comes around in a couple of months.”

Joel sighs heavily. “Fine. I’ll give you time, but only on one condition.”

Apprehensive, you question, “What condition is that?”

“He does anythin’ to you, you come and tell me so I can handle it. Alright?”

“Joel, he’s not going to do anything to me.” The lie rolls off of your tongue with such ease that it actually takes you by surprise. “He’s not going to—”

He stops you. “Just promise me, baby. Promise that you’ll come to me if you need me. Please. S’all I’m askin’ of you.”

Knowing there is no other choice but to agree, you nod. “Of course I will.”

It’s a promise you can’t and won’t keep.

“That’s my girl.” Joel places another soft kiss onto your wrist. “I love you. I love you more than fuckin’ life itself.” He glances down and brushes his thumb over your wedding band. “Y’know, someday you’re gonna take this goddamn thing off for good and you ain’t gonna have to put it back on. You’ll be mine.”

Frowning, you counter, “But I’m already yours, Joel.”

“All mine,” he rephrases himself. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll find a ring to put on your finger myself some day.”

Worried you’ll break down, you gently tug your wrist out of his hand. “We should finish up in here. Ellie’s going to come upstairs soon.”

After you finish rinsing off the suds of soap from his body, you drain the tub and help him out of it and into a clean towel, wrapping it around his waist. You hand him a second towel which he uses to haphazardly dry off his chest and hair before walking back out into his bedroom. With his permission, you start searching through his drawers for some comfortable clothes. You pluck a pair of clean boxer briefs from one drawer and faded, navy blue sweatpants from another. Once you help him dress, you instruct, “Sit down. I’m going to bandage your shoulder.”

Obediently, Joel perches himself on the foot of his bed.

You stand in front of him, unrolling the bandage.

“C’mere.” He grabs your hip, pulling you between his thighs. “Y’know, you make a real cute nurse.” He slides his hand up your shirt, his fingers gliding up the soft, smooth skin of your stomach.

“Joel, stop. Cut it out,” you scold him, playfully. “I need to make sure I do this right. Don’t distract me.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave,” Joel gruffs. He withdraws his hand from under your shirt and keeps it to himself.

You wrap the elastic, flesh toned bandage over his injured shoulder, pulling it behind his back before bringing it around across the front of his chest—after wrapping the excess material snugly around Joel’s bicep, you secure it, fastening the plastic clips at the end of it. “How does that feel? It’s not too tight, is it?”

“S’fine,” he answers. After you help him back into the sling, he wraps his opposite arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “So do I get a kiss or somethin’ for bein’ such a good patient for you, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I suppose you earned it.” Grinning, you carefully wrap an arm around his neck and lean down, swelling his lips with your own in a deep kiss. He swallows the soft moans that find their way from the back of your throat and into his mouth as his hand once again snakes its way up your shirt, touching each and every last inch of skin he can possibly reach.

“Oh fuck, my eyes!” Ellie’s voice cries behind you.

Startled, you rip yourself out of Joel’s grasp.

She stands at the door holding a steaming bowl in her hands, a horrified look on her face.

“Ellie,” you say her name, breathlessly. “We didn’t hear you coming up the stairs—”

“Obviously fucking not,” she huffs, rolling her eyes at you as she makes her way into his bedroom. “Well, now that I’m fucking scarred for life—” She pauses and sets the bowl down on Joel’s nightstand. “Here you go, Romeo. I made you some soup. And by made I really mean, I opened a can of twenty one year old chicken noodle soup and warmed it up on the stove.” Smirking, she adds, “So chow down. Unless you’re way too busy sucking her face off to eat, of course.”

Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Y’know I only need one hand to wring that little neck of yours, right?”

Before she has the opportunity to fire back, you step in. “I have to get going. It’s getting late and I need to make it home before Luke does.” You turn to Ellie. “He’s going to need a penicillin injection every six hours, okay? He’s pretty vulnerable to infection right now so he has to be on antibiotics for the next week or so.”

She nods, giving you a thumbs up. “You got it, doc.”

“Normally, you inject penicillin into the buttock—” You pause, holding back a laugh as a look of pure disgust flashes across the young girl’s face. “But, it can also be injected right into the thigh muscle. I’ll show you.” Pointing to the exact spot on the outer portion of his thigh, you instruct, “Five hundred milligrams, no more and no less. Easy enough?”

“Oh, okay. So that’s how you inject penicillin,” Ellie muses with a hum. After a moment, she mutters under her breath, “That would have been fucking useful to know about eight months ago.”

Your lips purse together tightly as you recall her story about what happened in Colorado with David and his group.

“What’d you say, kid?” Joel asks, confused.

“Nothing,” she replies, innocently.

Clearing your throat, you reach up, smoothing a hand over his damp curls, slicking them back. “I’m going to head home. Get plenty of rest, alright? I’ll come over and check up on you as often as I can. I promise.” You lean down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Jesus, you two make me so fucking sick already,” Ellie remarks, making a loud gagging noise. However, when you look at her, she’s smiling.

You walk into the house, only to find it empty.

Luke must have still been caught up at the clinic.

It seems like a good sign that Carl might still be alive.

After taking a quick, hot shower, you hastily put on some comfortable clothes and hurry downstairs to prepare a late dinner. You had just finished peeling some boiled russet potatoes you planned to mash up when the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut echoes throughout the house. You hear his footsteps approaching and a chill runs down the length of your spine just like back in the clinic—all you can think about is what he’d said to you as he was leaving the room.

“We’ll talk about this at home.”

Anxiously, you turn around just as Luke enters the kitchen. He’d changed his clothes at the clinic, trading his blood soaked scrubs for a pair of dark wash blue jeans and a plain black button up shirt. “Hey,” you greet him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel. “How’s, um—how’s Carl doing?”

“He didn’t make it either,” he replies curtly. He sets his black leather satchel down onto the kitchen table. “He lost too much blood during surgery. And without a machine for a transfusion—” He stops short. He hangs his head and even from you’re standing at the stove, you can see the way his jaw clenches.

Luke takes it hard whenever he loses someone—and he always takes it out on you.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to tell him. Despite trying to remain calm and collected, you’d started wringing your hands together out of habit.

“Well, at least there was one hero in that clinic today,” he scoffs out bitterly with a shake of his head.

You frown. “Luke, please don't do that. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Peter and Carl’s injuries were too severe. And besides, you said it yourself. We don’t have the proper equipment here in the commune.” You know there is no consoling him, not a single word of comfort could ease the blow of his failure, and yet, you find yourself trying anyway. “You did all you could do for them with what little we have. There’s nothing you could have done differently to change the outcome. Their wounds were fatal. Their fate was sealed long before they made it back to Jackson.”

Luke pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales a long, exasperated breath through his lips. It’s like watching a ticking time bomb.

“Look, it’s been a long day for everyone. Why don’t you go upstairs to take a shower, relax a bit, and then come back down for dinner?” you offer. “I’ve got a chicken baking in the oven, it shouldn’t be all that much longer now—”

Luke glares at you. “I just lost two fucking people today. Do you really think I’m fucking hungry right now?”

“You still need to eat,” you say, your voice small.

“Are you really that fucking stupid?” He starts to walk over towards you. “What?” He asks when he notices you flinch, your body shrinking away from him. “What’s the matter, darling? You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You answer him in the steadiest voice you can, but even you can hear the way it trembles with fear.

“Of course I’m not afraid of you, Luke.”

He lifts one of hands, prompting you to flinch again. “I’m not going to hit you,” he murmurs, touching your cheek before taking it in his palm. Knowing how uncomfortable he’s making you, his green eyes seek yours, only making it worse. “How is your boyfriend? Is he doing alright?”

The color drains from your face. “Excuse me?”

Luke cups your cheek harder. “Patching him up back at the clinic wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

You grab his wrist and try to tear his hand away from your face as you sputter, “What—what are you talking about, Luke?”

“Esther came into the clinic this evening with Martha and Lisa so they could say their goodbyes. While we were out in the hallway giving them a moment of privacy, Esther told me she saw you with Joel and Ellie. She said she watched you walk into their house with them—is that true?”

Left without another choice but to tell him the truth, you nod meekly. “It’s true,” you confess. “I walked them back to their place.” As soon as you see the anger flash in his eyes, you begin to ramble an explanation. “I went home with them so I could help Ellie get him settled. She’s fifteen years old, Luke. I needed to show her how to care for his wound and how to inject the penicillin he needs, that’s all—”

“Bullshit,” Luke seethes through his teeth. He grabs your shoulders, taking them harshly in his hands. “I’m going to ask you one more time—what the hell is going on between you and Joel Miller? And before you even think about giving me the same lie about his fucking brat of a kid, just know that I don’t fucking believe you.”

“Luke, let go of me—”

He starts shaking you as if it’ll somehow shake the answer out of you. “Fucking tell me the truth!”

You squirm in his grasp. “Luke, please! Let go of me!”

He shakes you harder, his violence escalating.

“Why were you at the fucking clinic in the first place, huh?”

“Luke, stop it! You’re hurting me!”

“What were you doing there in the first place?” He repeats, shouting the question into your face. “What were you fucking doing there? You heard your boyfriend got shot while he was out on patrol? You needed to make sure that he was okay? That he was still alive? Is that it?”

“Ellie asked me to go to the clinic with her! She was with me at the stables when Tommy showed up and told her Joel had been shot,” you try telling him. “She didn’t want to go alone!”

Finally, Luke stops rattling you. “And I suppose she asked you to tend to his injury, too?” He sneers. “She asked you to patch up his wound?”

Dizzy, you take a second to catch a quick breath, then respond, “Actually, she did. She and Tommy both asked me to take care of his shoulder and if you don’t believe me, then you can go find him and ask him yourself!”

“How fucking convenient,” Luke snorts. “Do you honestly take me for a fucking fool?”

“Luke—”

He shoves you back roughly.

Your side meets the sharp edge of the countertop in a loud, painful thud. Clutching at your ribcage, you sink down to the kitchen floor, curling yourself up into the fetal position as you brace yourself and wait for what’s undoubtedly coming next.

Luke steps towards you, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. But before he has the chance to lay another finger on you, the doorbell rings.

You breathe out a small sigh of relief.

“Get up,” he hisses. “Go answer it. Now.”

Your side is throbbing, but you scramble up to your feet quickly and hurry to do as you’re told. “I’ll be right there,” you call out, wincing. You briefly stop in front of a mirror hanging in the hallway and check your reflection to make sure that you look—well, that you look normal. You fix up your hair a little, smooth your shirt, and put on a brave face before opening the door. “Tommy,” you say his name in surprise. Your eyes then flicker to his wife. “Maria. What are you two doing here?”

“Sorry, little lady. We know that it’s kinda late,” he apologizes, holding Maria's hand gently in his. “But we’re wonderin’ if we could come in for a minute to talk to you and Luke?”

Without hesitating, you step aside to allow the couple into the foyer of your home. “Of course you can,” you say, closing the door behind them. “I’ve got a late dinner in the oven. If you guys are hungry, then you’re more than welcome to join us. I made plenty.”

“That’s awful kind of you,” Tommy says with a grateful nod. “But it might have to wait for another time. We’ve still got a few more people to see tonight.”

Luke steps out of the kitchen. “Tommy? Maria? Is everything alright? It’s not the baby, is it?”

Maria places a hand on her swollen midsection.

At about five months, her belly had finally popped.

“The baby’s just fine,” she assures him. “Been kicking a storm up all day long.”

“Good.” Luke stands beside you. “I know today has been very difficult, but remember to take it easy, alright? You can’t stress too much, or it can put the baby in distress. I don’t want you going into preterm labor, Maria.”

She cradles her belly. “I know, Luke. I promise, I’m being very careful,” she swears. “We’re just going out door to door and checking in on everyone, offering support where it’s needed.”

Tommy nods, his face looking worn and tired as he pulls Maria close and tucks her into his side. “What happened today was a real fuckin’ tragedy. Two people gone, just like that,” he shakes his head, sadly. “We just wanna make sure everyone’s doin’ okay.”

“How’s Martha?” you ask, tentatively. “Lisa and her daughters, how are they holding up?”

“They’re devastated,” Maria replies, sighing. “Lisa can keep it all together for the sake of her girls. It’s a whole different story for Martha, though. Peter was the only person she had, you know?”

“I can check in on her,” you offer, kindly. “I can stop by on the way to the stables in the morning to see her. Make sure that she’s taking care of herself.”

“We actually canceled tomorrow’s work duties, so if you two need to take the day off, you can,” Maria informs you, her eyes flicking from you to Luke.

“We’re holdin’ a memorial service tomorrow in the old church house,” Tommy states. “And the burial will take place right before sunset.”

“We’ll be there,” Luke nods, taking your hand in his. He squeezes it tightly. Harshly. “Won’t we, sweetheart?”

You wince a little. “Yes, of course we will.”

Tommy notices the way you squirm. “You alright there, little lady?”

Luke squeezes your hand even tighter. It’s a warning.

“Yes,” you lie to him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

The next morning, you stop by Martha’s place, just like you’d told Maria you would. While you had no words that could console the grieving widow or ease the pain of her loss, you sat with her for a good hour and simply let her cry into your shoulder. She tuckered herself out quickly, and just before she fell asleep on the couch in her living room, you made her a promise, telling her you would see her at the memorial later that evening.

“What do you even wear to a funeral?” Ellie asks, curiously. She sits comfortably in Shimmer’s black leather saddle, the mare’s reins clutched in one of her hands. Despite work duties being canceled for the entire day, the two of you met at the stables to tend to the horses—the animals had enough water and food to get by until the following day, but still needed to be exercised so you’d suggested a short ride in the field out behind the paddock.

“Well, people typically wear black to funerals,” you answer, leading the way across the vacant patch of land on Ranger’s back. “Ellie, how many times am I going to have to tell you to hold onto the reins with both hands?” you chastise her over your shoulder. “I’m serious. The last thing we need is for you to fall off and break a bone. Both hands, missy.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh, mom.” You can’t see it, but you hear the joking grin in her tone. “Why do people wear black to funerals? Was that always a thing?”

“Yeah. It’s the traditional color of mourning.”

“Why black? Why not like, green or something?”

“I don’t know, go ask the Ancient Romans.”

“The who?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

Clicking your tongue, you start steering Ranger, signaling him to turn back towards the paddock.

“I don’t even think I own anything that’s black,” Ellie says behind you. She gently squeezes Shimmer’s sides with her calves and the horse breaks out into a trot, catching up with you and Ranger. “Green it’ll have to be, then. Oh, by the way, Joel told me to tell you that he’ll see you at midnight. Your usual place.”

You frown. “He’s one day into his recovery. He needs to rest.”

“That’s what I fucking told him. But I guess he just can’t stay away from you, princess,” she teases as the horses arrive back into the paddock.

“Alright, let me hop off Ranger and I’ll help you—”

You stop short, watching as Ellie swings her leg over the back of Shimmer’s saddle and jumps off.

She grins. “Please. I’m practically a professional at dismounting horses now. Call me Seabiscuit.”

You snort. “Ellie, Seabiscuit was the horse.”

“Oh.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Well, you know what I fucking mean.”

Laughing, you roll your eyes at her. You pull a foot free from one of the stirrups then swing your leg over and start dismounting Ranger—but the second you start going down, your opposite leg still in the stirrup supporting your weight wobbles and you lose your balance. You fall forward against the horse, accidentally sliding down his saddle.

To add insult to injury, the horn catches your sleeve and hikes up your blouse as soon as you land your feet on the ground.

“That was real fucking graceful,” Ellie cackles as she watches you try to unsnag your shirt from the saddle. Walking around Ranger to get a better view of the mishap, her grin suddenly vanishes. Her brown eyes widen when she catches a glimpse of the discoloration that starts near your hip and goes up your entire length of your side. “What the hell? Is that a fucking bruise?”

Finally, you free yourself from the saddle. Feeling your heart pound, you tug your shirt down into place, but it’s too late.“Ellie—”

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me,” you fib. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?” Ellie repeats, incredulously. “There’s a fucking bruise the size of the state of Wyoming on you and you’re fucking fine? Really?”

“I fell,” you tell her, giving her the first excuse that you could think of. “I’m really clumsy, Ellie. Clearly I am.” You gesture to the saddle. “You saw it, just now. I almost fell off a damn horse.”

“You fell.” Ellie raises her eyebrow at you. “Or were you pushed?”

Staring at her helplessly, you reassure her, “Ellie, it’s nothing. I fell and I hit myself. Alright?”

She steps towards you and grabs the hem of your blouse, yanking it up. “That,” she points her index finger at your side, “That is not fucking nothing! That is fucking something.”

“Ellie!” Gasping, you harshly slap her hand away.

“Luke did that you, didn’t he?”

Her accusation comes without hesitation.

“Of course he didn’t,” you stammer. “I told you I fell—”

“Bullshit. I’m fucking telling Joel.”

She spins around on the heel of her sneaker.

“Ellie! No!” You catch her arm, stopping her. “No, please don’t do that! Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell Joel.”

“Then I’ll tell Tommy and Maria,” Ellie says, shrugging. “I’ll tell them about what their precious doctor is doing to you behind closed fucking doors—” She starts to leave the paddock and you’re quick to stop her once more.

“No! You cannot tell anyone! Not Tommy, not Maria, or anyone else. And you especially cannot tell Joel.”

“He’s fucking hurting you!” Ellie all but shouts at you.

“Ellie, I have it under control—”

She snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, clearly.” Sarcasm drips from her tone. “I can tell you have it under control.”

You take her hands, clasping them in yours. “I can handle Luke, Ellie. It’s all under control.” Your gaze meets hers. “Please. Do not tell anyone about this.”

“But—”

“Ellie, please. I’m begging you,” you plead with her. “Don’t tell anyone—and especially not Joel. Please.”

It pains you to see her look so fucking helpless.

Maybe it’s selfish of you to ask her, a child, to keep such a secret.

But it’s for the good of Jackson.

“Swear to me that you won’t tell him about this. Swear it.”

Again, she looks helpless, helpless, helpless.

Eventually, she sighs out in defeat. “Okay. Fine. I swear I won’t tell Joel.”

“Or anyone else,” you add.

Her eyes fall away from yours as she mumbles, “I swear I won’t tell Joel. Or anyone else.”

Later that evening, after the memorial service, everyone makes their way to Jackson Cemetery, a makeshift graveyard right outside the west wall that’s protected by a steel fence. With men and women armed and standing around the entire perimeter of the site, the burial carried on. Miles, a former pastor, reads verses from a bible out loud at the request of the men’s families who were people of faith. You stand at Martha’s side, holding her as Tommy and two other men lower her husband’s casket into the ground and begin to shovel in the dirt.

From the corner of your eye, you see Joel as he stands in the crowd with Ellie and Dina. The girls have their arms linked together. Ellie looks over at you, then glances away, sourly shaking her head as Luke puts a comforting hand on your back. She knows it’s just for show. He’s playing the role of a good husband when he’s anything but.

After the burial, the entire town is invited back to the commune mess hall for the traditional funeral repast. Food, drinks, and plenty of stories of the patrolmen are shared—fond memories are exchanged in efforts to lighten the somber mood.

Joel watches with jealousy as you stand by Luke’s side the entire evening, his arm secured around your waist. He’d been sitting at a table across the hall near the doors with Ellie. Forcing himself to look away from you, he turns his attention to her and notices she hasn’t scarfed down her food as usual. Joel would often have to tell her to slow down before she made herself sick, but tonight, he doesn’t have to. Instead of inhaling her potatoes like a human vacuum, she pushes them around on her plate with her fork.

“Is everythin’ alright, kiddo?” he asks her, worriedly.

She lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

He frowns. “Ellie, don’t lie to me.”

She sighs again. “Okay, everything’s not fine.”

“What’s goin’ on? The funeral bother you?”

Ellie looks over towards you and Luke, nervously biting down on her lower lip. She then glances back at Joel.

“Ellie? What is it?”

“She made me swear not to tell anyone. Especially not you.”

“Who?”

The second your name comes out of her mouth, he stiffens in his chair.

“I swore to her I wouldn’t say anything, but—”

“Ellie, what the hell’s goin’ on?”

“She’s going to be so mad at me if I tell you, Joel.”

He shakes his head. “No one’s gonna be mad, kiddo. I can promise you that. No one is gonna be mad at you, alright?” He promises her. “Just tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Well, you see—” Ellie hesitates. “The thing is—”

She trails off, unsure of how to say it.

“Christ, Ellie. Just fuckin’ spit it out.”

“I think he’s hitting her,” she finally blurts out.

Joel freezes. “What?”

“Luke. I think he’s hitting her or something.”

“Why do you think that?” he asks, his voice rigid.

Ellie lowers her voice. “Today we were taking two of the horses out on a ride around the field behind the paddock. When we got back, she slipped while she was dismounting Ranger. Her sleeve got stuck on his saddle and her shirt pulled up.” She pauses, sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling it before saying, “I saw a huge bruise on her side. It was fucking massive. It looked fresh, too.”

His blood begins to boil. “You ask her ‘bout it?”

“Of course I did. When I asked her what happened, she told me that she fell. But I didn’t believe her. When I asked her if Luke did it—”

“She admitted he did.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Ellie’s face falls. “Well no, not exactly. But Luke did it, I know he fucking did it, Joel. He’s hurting her. It’s why she won’t leave him. She’s too fucking scared of him.”

Joel looks up, his lips pressed into a tight line.

His eyes meet Luke’s from across the room.

The man gives him a small, curt nod and takes your hand in his, pulling you towards where Martha and Lisa are sitting with a group of friends, among them, Tommy and Maria.

“Joel?” Ellie says his name, nervously.

“I’ll handle it, Ellie.”

“But—”

He cuts her off.

“I said I’ll fuckin’ handle it.”

Despite knowing that Joel needed to rest, the part of you that was incredibly selfish just couldn’t wait to see him—to be with him, to hold him in your arms and kiss him. Especially after such a long, gloomy and sorrowful evening.

When midnight rolls around, you find him already waiting behind the barn. Normally, it was you who would always arrive first, so when you see Joel standing there by the paddock fence, you can’t help but feel a little surprised.

“You beat me here,” you remark with a small laugh as you approach him.

“Yeah. I did.”

Excited to see him, you don’t even catch the tone of his voice at first.

Serious.

Upset.

You beam at him and say, “Hi, honey. I missed you.” Smiling, you lift an arm to throw it around Joel’s neck in a careful hug, but he catches your wrist in his hand and stops you, the creases in his brows deepening.

“Show me.”

Your smile slowly falters. “What?”

“Show me,” he repeats, stiffly.

“What are you talking about?” Puzzled, you pull your wrist out of his grasp and step back.

He’d never spoken to you like that. He’d never looked at you like that before, either. Angrily.

“Joel, what’s going on?”

“Ellie told me ‘bout the bruise.”

Your blood runs frigid in your veins. “What?”

“Earlier at the repast. She told me ‘bout the bruise she saw on your side today.”

“It’s nothing, Joel—”

“Show. Me.” Joel bites the words out through gritted teeth.

You stare at him for a moment, then sigh.

With little choice in the matter, you lift the hem of your shirt.

“Here,” you say bitterly, turning your body. “Is this what you want to see?”

His stomach churns violently.

Ellie hadn’t been exaggerating about the size of it.

The painful mark starts at your hip, and it goes up the entire length of the side of your torso until it feathers out beneath your bustline.

“I fell.” Your voice is flat, emotionless. Because you don’t know how else to react now that he knows the truth.

You don’t know what to do or what to say.

So, you turn the dial back to numb.

“The kid didn’t believe that bullshit lie and I fuckin’ don’t believe it either. We both fuckin’ know Luke did this to you.”

He almost expects you to deny it, but when you don’t, it’s all the confirmation he needs. He starts off towards the residential side of town, prepared to yank Luke out of bed and rip him to fucking shreds.

“Joel, where the hell are you going?” you huff as you start following behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Joel seethes. He lifts a hand and starts clawing at the strap of his sling to take it off. “For puttin’ his fuckin’ hands on you—”

You grab his arm. “Joel, please! Don’t!”

Refusing to stop, he drags you along behind him.

“Joel, stop! Please, can you just wait for one fucking minute?”

Digging your heels into the dirt, you yank at his arm, and plead for him to listen to you.

“Joel, just give me the chance to explain!”

Finally, he comes to a halt and whirls around, his nostrils flaring. With furiousness in his dark eyes, he faces you.

“You promised me! You fuckin’ promised me you’d come to me if he did somethin’ to you—” Realizing he’s shouting at you, Joel stops. Seeing your bottom lip quiver, he softens ever so slightly. He knows you’re not the person to take his anger out on. No, that person is fast asleep in his bed. “How long? How long has he been doin’ this to you? And don’t you lie to me.”

“Two years,” you admit in a whisper.

Joel’s face pales.

Swallowing dryly, you shake your head. “Joel, he’s the only doctor in this town. There’s so much pressure that he carries on his back. He’s responsible for all of the people in this community,” you begin to explain. “It’s a lot to handle for one person, he’s always stressed—”

“And so beating you is the way he fuckin’ unwinds after a long day of work?” Joel, for the life of him, can’t fucking believe you’re attempting to defend Luke.

“He just loses his temper sometimes. It gets the best of him and then I’ll say something or so something to piss him off even more—”

Joel catches your hand in his. “Baby, fuckin’ stop that right now. Stop fuckin’ makin’ excuses for him. He’s fuckin’ hurtin’ you, and if something ain’t done, there’s a good chance he’s gonna wind up killin’ you.”

“I have everything under control, Joel.”

“No, you fuckin’ don’t. He’s fuckin’ hittin’ you.” Joel’s voice breaks as he speaks. “He’s hurtin’ you.”

“I can fix it,” you say, though you sound more helpless than anything else. “I just need time, but I can fix this, Joel.”

“No, peach. You can’t fix it. But I can—all you gotta do is let me.”

You look down at your shoes, feeling tears glaze over your eyes. “No. Jackson needs him, Joel.”

“But what ‘bout you?”

“I’m just one person,” you whisper. “You have to look at the bigger picture here. I’m just one fucking person.”

“One fuckin’ person who means everythin’ to me,” he says, squeezing your hand. “If you won’t let me handle him, then we go to Tommy and Maria—”

“If he gets locked up or thrown out, we won’t have a doctor, Joel. Don’t you fucking understand that?”

Joel’s beginning to lose his patience.

He knows you’re only trying to look out for the rest of the community, but at what fucking cost?

Your own life, possibly?

Maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t care about everybody else. He cares about you.

Dropping your hand, he steps back, shaking his head. “I ain’t gonna let him keep on hurtin’ you. I’m gonna put a stop to it.”

“Joel, you’re just going to make things fucking worse! I will handle it—I will fix it. I don’t need your help. I don’t need you stepping in trying to play the hero. It’s all under control, okay?”

“Like hell it fuckin’ is. First thing tomorrow, I’m gonna pay Luke a visit at the clinic. Have a little talk with him, man to man, or whatever he fuck he is—”

Your stomach sinks at the mere thought of it. “No! Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn him. “Don’t you even think about it, Joel.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? Stand around with my fuckin’ hands behind my back and just let him keep on hurtin’ you? Ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen.” Realizing your stance on the matter is firm, Joel comes to his own decision. “Listen, sweet girl. If you ain’t gonna give me permission, then I’m just gonna have to ask for your forgiveness.”

You glare at him and left your chin. “Well, I won’t give it to you.”

He stares at you, completely taken aback by your sudden coldness.

“If you do anything to hurt him, or tell Tommy and Maria about this, I will never forgive you,” you threaten, a warm tear slipping down the side of your face as you prepare to shatter both his heart and yours. “I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

Before Joel can even think about uttering another word, you turn around and walk away.

You break down as soon as you make it home.

Sinking down onto the porch, you pull the collar of your shirt over your mouth and nose in an effort to muffle the sounds of your sobbing. That look of hurt on Joel’s face and in his eyes when you’d told him to stay away from you, it would be burned into your memory forever. It would haunt you for the rest of your damn life.

It wasn’t what you wanted.

This wasn’t what you wanted.

But there is no other choice.

There never has been another choice for you.

The sound of gravel road crunching underneath a pair of old, tattered red low top sneakers fills the silent night air, prompting you to look up.

“Do you hate me?” Ellie questions you softly.

The remorseful expression on her face sends another sharp, stabbing pain through your chest.

“Oh, Ellie. Of course I don’t hate you.” You pat the empty spot beside you on the porch. “Come here.”

Ellie walks over and sits down beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest.

You wrap an arm around her, reassuring her, “I could never hate you, Ellie. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I know I swore to you I would keep my fucking mouth shut, but I had to tell Joel about Luke. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry.” She sniffs, dabbing at her eyes as they fill with frustrated tears.

“It’s okay. I would have done the same thing if I were you.”

“Really? You would have?”

You nod, wiping at your face with your opposite hand. “Absolutely.”

“You’re only saying that to make me feel less like a big pile of dog shit, aren’t you?”

“Mostly no, but partially yes,” you joke dryly in an effort to cheer her up.

Ellie flashes you a small, watery smile. “I’ll fucking take it.”

She leans her head against your shoulder and for a while, the two of you sit there in melancholy silence.

“What’s going to happen with you and Joel?” Ellie finally asks, her voice small.

“I don’t know, Ellie,” you admit quietly. “I really don’t know.”

#fic: ash #fic: a safe haven #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x y/n #tw domestic violence #tw: dv

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pansy-picnics · 7 months ago

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A vat7k related question.

What do you think is Hugo's gender identity? Cus I want to hear what you think Hugo's gender is and the story behind it.

EHEHEHE personally i think she’s genderfluid and uses he/she/they pronouns…….I think he was kind of an uncracked egg up until the trials though. like, he’s been in survival mode for so long that he’s never had the time or luxury to really think about himself or his identity….i think he’s had a lot of different disguises over his career though, and those personas are either male or female depending on what the situation calls for so he’s not a stranger to dressing femininely either.

but yeah…i think for a long time hugo just identified as male by default cuz like…what else would he be LOL. if he had any doubts at all they weren’t significantly hindering him or anything so he just buried them with all the other of the emotions he doesn’t want to feel. but like the closet is made of GLASS and this becomes especially obvious when she teams up with 3 other teenagers who are also transgender so sometimes she’ll just Say Shit and they all turn around and look at her like “…….🤨”

i have this very vivid scene in my head where varian comes out to the gang as trans and hes clearly really uneasy abt it. and hugo doesn’t know what to say so he just tries to relate by saying the first thing that comes to mind and goes “oh yeah i get it i mean. sometimes i wish i was a girl but like not all the time yk” and nuru and varian both just stop and stare at him

hugo, getting nervous: …Sorry that’s probably not the same thing forget i said anything

nuru: No i think we should talk about this?

anyways yeah….other than her traveling party giving her some weird looks nothing actually really came of these conversations bc hugo would refuse to think about herself even if you put a gun to her head

fast forward to post-trials though, and hugo’s been living in the castle with varian for about six months…it was REALLY messy for both of them while she was adjusting, but at this point shes finally started to let her guard down a little, and all of a sudden she has SO much free time and she has no idea what to do with any of it. she’s stealing collecting things, tinkering with all kinds of useless little gadgets, rapunzel is teaching her tons of little arts and crafts projects. overall shes pretty content despite everything. So anyways then the gender crisis hits them like a fucking freight train

honestly i’m like half joking when i say i think it started bc they just kept forgetting to cut their hair. like one day they looked in the mirror and they’re like “wow my hairs getting so long i kinda look like a girl lol. Wait”

AND AS FUNNY AS IT IS ITS SO. WILDLY UNFAMILIAR TO THEM. like all of a sudden theyre SO insecure for as far as they can tell, NO reason and it drives them CRAZY. i dont even think that hugo dislikes their masculine features after coming out, i think they embrace them if anything but its just like…going from 0 to 100 so fast and suddenly being so hyper aware of themselves in a way that they NEVER were before…having to realize that they’re definitely Not cis. it’s fucking TERRIFYING!!!

not to mention it hits him all at once during a time when he’s still frankly really paranoid about him and varian’s relationship, and he’s kinda walking on eggshells bc deep down he’s convinced that var’s just gonna get tired of him eventually and kick him out. its like he’s just waiting for the final nail in the coffin despite the fact that there is literally no coffin.

All that being said i think it takes him a while to work up the courage to talk to varian about it. and he knows he won’t like. hate him for being trans or anything (I sure hope he wouldn’t, at least, seeing as he is literally also trans) but varian’s already done SO much for him and helped him through literally everything already….he doesn’t want to burden him any more than he already has. he also cant comprehend that someone can just Like him, like, as a person, so he’s convinced himself that varian must see something specific in him right now and he’s afraid that if he changes himself drastically in any way then whatever varian saw in him just. won’t be there anymore. If that makes sense

as for who he actually goes to first- honestly i think it’d have to be lance. at least in my head lance was the first person hugo really started to bond with aside from varian….he didn’t start letting his guard down with rapunzel until quite a while after that. also i think he’s worried that if he tells rapunzel she’d end up accidentally spilling something to varian (which is like. Valid bc she’s a horrible liar) he’d definitely write a letter to nuru, too, but nuru is also in another kingdom, and that message takes a while to get to her, so it’s more something they talk about after the fact

when he finally does get a letter back after dumping this revelation on her it’s just like

“dearest hugo. upon reading your letter i desperately wanted to tell you that i told you so, but i realize that would be in poor taste, seeing as you are clearly struggling right now. Moreover,-“ /j

regardless of who she tells first, they obviously all support her and encourage her to talk to varian as well…And ofc varian hypes her up to no end when she finally does. i wanna say it’s a sweet emotional scene but i feel like varian was also under the assumption that she figured out the gender thing like a year ago /j

hugo: ,,,,so like. i don’t think i’m a guy

varian: . yeah?

hugo:

hugo: TFYM “YEAH”?????!!!!???

varian: D. DID WE NOT ALREADY KNOW THIS?

hugo: ,???? NO???!!???!

jokes aside though as soon as hugo does decide he wants to explore his presentation more varian immediately consults rapunzel who gets WAY too excited about it and it kind of scares hugo a little bit. /j like Do you want to cut your hair? Dye it? Do you want new piercings? TATTOOS????

they eventually just settle on getting her a few new pieces to add to her wardrobe and that works out fine. varian sees his girlfriend in a dress and loses his mind etc etc. All is right in the world

#vat7k #varian and the 7 kingdoms #tangled ask #varian and the seven kingdoms #varigo #varian #tts headcanons #pansy rambling again #pansy-art #i first answered this like two weeks ago but i lost the entire post and i got so mad that i just didnt bother writing it out again #until now i guess #hugo rottewange

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queerprojectionist · 5 months ago

Text

I Saw The TV Glow

As always, a little housekeeping to start things off. This is not a “review” in the traditional sense but a discussion of the themes and the experiences of a film. It is not impartial or impersonal, and there are lots of spoilers though I will try to leave you some reason to watch for yourself. Queer and trans people are deeply affected by the media that does include us, because we’ve fought for so long just to have that. As such, my experience of cinema and my identity cannot be fully untangled and must be presented in it’s gnarled, multifaceted whole. Here there be trauma, folks. Tread lightly and enjoy. I Saw The TV Glow

Jane Schoenbrun, A24 Films, 2024

It is rare within recent queer cinema that a film doesn’t end with some variation on the lesson of you can choose this, if you want to. Coming out of the closet is a choice, just like the bigotry and intolerance queer people face just trying to live an authentic life. The predominant thinking towards coming out is that the independence of that discovery is sacrosanct; we may suspect our friends, family, or lovers are queer, but we can’t make them acknowledge that, before they’re ready to see it for themselves.

I Saw The TV Glow doesn’t agree. It is a burning ice-cream truck of hard truths, about the urgency, the utter consuming need to let our true selves live. A beautifully shot, sumptuously themed fever dream soaked in neon and teenage dysphoria, Schoenbrun’s latest demands that we reconsider; that not only can we choose our true selves, we must.

The backdrop for this proposal, The Pink Opaque, is a television show in the vein of Are You Afraid Of The Dark? (how’s that for a reference, 90s kids?). Tara and Isabel are summer camp friends who share a psychic connection, which they use to confront the forces of Mr. Melancholy, a terrifying celestial god who wants to drag them back to The Midnight Realmand bury them alive. Crucially, it’s their connection with each other that is the force that keeps the Realm at bay, a connection that is deeply sapphic coded. The show takes place across a ghostly, always-night surburban hallucination, an eerily perfect backdrop for Mr. Melancholy’s monsters. It feels deeply and directly queer in a way most shows of the era couldn’t be.

Owen becomes fascinated with the show after seeing advertisements for it, but the show airs after his bedtime, so he isn’t allowed to see it. He then meets Maddy, who he spots reading a book about the show, and strikes up a conversation, despite being in Grade 7 to Maddy’s Grade 9. He convinces his mother he’s gone to a sleepover at a friend’s and joins Maddy and her friend to watch the show one night, altering his life forever.

For two years, Maddy tapes the show’s episodes and leaves them in the darkroom at school for Owen to take home and watch, which he does surreptitiously, fearing that at any time his parents might find them and ask him questions he doesn’t have answers to yet. Isabel asks Tara how she knows things she shouldn’t, and if she’s going crazy, but Tara reaffirms her, telling her never to let anyone call her that. Their experiences are such because they are The Pink Opaque. In the following scene, Owen asks to join Maddy again to watch the show with her rather than on tape, and Maddy asks if he knows she’s only into girls, and who he’s into, which Owen can’t answer. He tries to describe how it feels like where that should be, there is only empty space where someone has carved out his heart with a shovel.

When they meet again to watch the show, there are the beginnings of recognition, understanding why Isabel, Tara, and the Midnight Realm feel “more real than real life”, in Maddy’s words. She suggests they run away together, to escape their own version of the Midnight Realm, and to better understand themselves, but Owen isn’t able to, and within a couple weeks, not only has Maddy left, but The Pink Opaque is cancelled.

The depths of Owen’s fear of who he is, something so many trans people experience, is not subtly suggested; they loom over Owen’s dissociative state much like Mr. Melancholy looms over the suburban terrors of The Pink Opaque. Maddy comes back for Owen years later, when he’s settled into a dissatisfying job and a nondescript life as a ghost of himself. She explains that she disappeared into the show. And there she makes it plain: they are Tara and Isabel, one of whom can’t look at himself long enough to allow that truth to escape. One of the most beautiful and brilliant sequences in the entire film is Tara’s impassioned plea to realize that Isabel is not lost; Owen is she.

But before Owen can fully accept Isabel, he bolts, pushing Tara to the ground in fear and running for home. It is rare for me to cry out in pain during a film, through great big tears no less, but I did so right there. Isabel is so close to realization, but she can’t make it outside of Owen before he stuffs her back into a dark and dissociative corner of his mind. It’s yet another sequence that trans people who fought their own truths for so long will feel like a punch in the guts. Tara leaves for good this time, but leaves a message for Owen on the street outside his house in chalk.

There is still time.

Tara sends Owen one more tape in the mail shortly after their encounter, the Season Five finale, the last episode of the show. In it, Mr. Melancholy captures Isabel, forces her to drink a sedating formula, and buries her alive. He cuts out her heart and puts it in an industrial freezer. The Midnight Realm wins. And it breaks Owen to see the parallels between Isabel’s death in the show and her suffocating inside of himself. Once again, the dissociation is broken only long enough for Isabel’s pain to escape, which it does, viscerally and violently.

I have walked this very road, as a trans person who didn’t make it out until her 30s. There were several times where I tried to re-bury who I was, between flashes of recognition that were both painful and terrifying. We watch Owen try to get on with his life, hold down a job, “become a man” and a “productive member of society” in his words. Just like I tried to start over several times after massive breakdowns where my Isabel almost escaped.

Which is what makes the ending so brilliant. During an episode he later blames on his meds, Owen cuts open his chest to discover the TV’s glow emanating from where, all those years ago, it felt like someone dug out his heart with a shovel. It’s the film’s final message to us, not to be afraid. Isabel and Owen’s path after that isn’t clear, but the overwhelming emotional release Isabel gets after so many years in hiding is so evident on Owen’s face and in his body language that I truly believe this is finally her moment. Schoenbrun leaves that up to us to decide.

Being transgender in a world designed to exclude, demoralize, and devalue you is messy and painful. I often took refuge in my own fictional worlds, not unlike those of The Pink Opaque, and my truth, my Isabel, was so ready to emerge, only for me to stuff her back down before I’d even recognized who she was. Unlike Isabel, I didn’t have a Tara, or a Maddy. I didn’t have anyone who understood the hole in my chest or why I’d routinely dissociate in the middle of conversations or visits with the few friends I kept close.

And I really wish that I had. The true horror of Schoenbrun’s work here is not only what we do to ourselves through dysphoria and fear, it’s also the people we lose, our trans siblings, to the belief that everyone needs to figure this out on their own. How many Isabels are never found, and how many lives are only partially realized . Which is why Tara tries so hard to get to Isabel and turn her gaze inwards. When she reappears in Isabel’s life, she has gone through that death and rebirth, burying herself alive only to emerge, not Maddy, but Tara. And she knows that Isabel is trapped, that Mr. Melancholy is everywhere and is driving her into the ground. He drives us into the ground.

As queer folk, we often recognize other queer and trans people, before they recognize it themselves. We call that being an “egg”, and the realization that they’re not cisgender or heterosexual is known as cracking said egg. I Saw The TV Glow is going to crack some eggs for sure, but it won’t be the only thing that is required for some of us to get to that stage. We also need to start dismantling the decades of trauma that have lead us to the belief that we can’t hold space for and help other queers find themselves. Because our Isabels never truly die, but if they never truly live, then isn’t that the same as dying, in the end?

There is still time.

It was similar words that finally unlocked the closet door for me. I was depressed, scared of who I might be but hating who I thought I was. I had spent fifteen years living a persona I created in high school to cover up my Isabel such that she would never get out again, having been tormented in elementary and junior high schools for my effeminate nature and general distrust of boys. If I had to be one, I just had to make it livable, much like Owen says he’s “becoming a man” by sinking into his work and trying to ignore that everything that brings him joy is dying. I had been married, had several failed relationships, and had no schooling, money, or joy to my name. I was ready to give up for good.

But a friend of mine, a playwright, finally reached me through their art, and gave me the keys to my destiny, an experience that I’ll always be grateful to them for. Sometimes, the pain of dissociation and loss is too great for us to bear alone. And that’s what I Saw The TV Glow was for me. A call to action, to take up arms against the Midnight Realm with our Taras and our Isabels and be there for our trapped fellow queers. Because we can’t expect a world whose hatred for us deepens every day to provide all of the tools and clues necessary for self discovery. I know this won’t be a message that sits well with everyone, and I’m not suggesting the only solution to teenage discomfort is to be trans, but it may well be the only the solution for those of us trapped under the shovel and spell of Mr. Melancholy. That should be enough to try. There may still be time, but purgatory, the Midnight Realm, will sap us of all we have to live for, and as trans people, we deserve better than that, because we are The Pink Opaque.

#queer cinema #queer films #i saw the tv glow

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maybeimamuppet · 4 months ago

Note

i give you permission to ramble about any mean girls headcanons you like and why

PEOPLE KEEP ASKING ME ABOUT HEADCANONS AND I GET SO EXCITED BECAUSE I HSVE SO MANY AND RHEN THEY ALL LEAVE MY BRAIN AND I GET SO SAD!!!!!!! i need to update my list because the people that live in my brain now do not align with that so much anymore

anyway

1: i love when cady is absolutely fascinated by the most mundane american thing. i love it it’s fantastic and delicious. her favorite thing in the entire world is a shopping cart. how can you not love her.

2: i am OBSESSED with janis’ hair NOT being dip dyed (in american stage version tbc). it is blonde because she dyed it as a plastic and keeps it out of spite because she knows it adds to the aesthetic regina would absolutely despise. the anger is stored in the hair.

3: for some reason i’m obsessed with giving cady deceased siblings. the first one was literally just because i wanted laylas middle name to have some significance. that’s it. but the more i think about it the more she just seems like that fits? and i think i’ve done it at least three times so far

4: in a similar vein i’m so into having janis raised by a single parent. and also damian but his is canon

5: karen has so much untapped angst potential. “and how when coach carr tells me he has an ‘open marriage’ that his wife probably doesn’t know that they do!” BABYGIRL WHY IS HE TELLING YOU HE HAS AN OPEN MARRIAGE HM

6: i am very into (recently, still very unexplored) the idea of aaron and janis being stepsiblings or something like that and cady’s just like hhhhhthiswholefamilyishot

7: aaron is a drag queen as an adult. nuff said.

8: i’m also really into giving people the most mundane useless quirks that most of the time i don’t even mention. cady never wears matching socks. janis does yarn crafts when she’s angry. damian will not rest until he gets that one specific judy garland playbill from 1937 (i made up a year pls don’t yell at me). cady is the one who can’t cook in all of her relationships. janis hits the ceiling a concerning amount when she goes bowling. cady wears contacts. regina can juggle. gretchen is a closet tech nerd and loves programming. karen makes a killer fruit punch. regina is terrified of babies. damian kicked out janis’ baby teeth during a tap routine. the little things.

9: cadnis specific one but i LOVE when janis is the one who keeps begging for a pet and cady is like “babe do you have any idea how much work pets are. where did you even find that raccoon now we have to go get you a rabies shot”

10: and arguably the one i love most is cady being totally down for “weird” relationships. she’s got ideas of love that haven’t been altered by any western media. qpr? with the right person/people she’s down! dating a girl? hell yeah! enby? why not! she’s got a few questions but they’re still cute! polyamory? hell yeah more love to go around! i fully believe she just would love so hard she’s just willing to try whatever she can get and respects the hell out of more taboo relationships :) as long as it’s between consenting adults and whatnot ofc. safety and love are her top priorities

#i want to do so much more but ugh this brain is not working with me #anyway!!!#dear friend tysm for the ask <3333 #mean girls #cady heron #janis sarkisian #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #damian hubbard #aaron samuels

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (4)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, profanation, fluff ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When she entered her house everyone was already there. They came by carriage on the main passable road. She took off his soaked coat and hung it on the hanger. She thought she must remember to give it back to him along with the umbrella.

She tried not to think about the touch of his hand on her face. About how he probably almost kissed her. About what he had told her.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother, running out into the corridor, pale and terrified. Her mother was very easy to scare or upset. She felt like that was what her life was all about. Worrying about others and herself.

"Child, why did you go on foot in this rain? Come, you need to change immediately. Mathilda!” She called a girl who was their servant.

She entered her bedroom listening to her mother's complaints about her thoughtlessness and the likely illness she would cause herself in the near future.

"You've upset your father very much." She said under her breath as she pulled out her home dress, thinner and more comfortable, less ornate, from her closet.

She sat down in front of her dressing table mirror, pulling the pins out of her wet hair, completely unresponsive to this remark.

"Not to mention how you embarrassed us in front of Mr. Smith, Ser Criston and his friend." She said coldly, and she pursed her lips at the thought of the fair-haired man keeping her awake at night.

Ever since she'd come across him in the chapel she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. He scared her in a way. He seemed mysterious and hostile, but there was something about him that endeared her. His irony and sarcasm made her look at her life from a slightly different perspective. He surprised her with his words.

Her heart trembled at the thought of sharing a secret with him. She blushed slightly at the memory of herself kissing his cold hand. She had no idea what possessed her then. She just wanted to touch his skin. She wondered if he felt the same way too, and that was why he couldn't help but touch her again.

Her father didn't speak to her for the rest of the day, pretending she wasn't there. Whenever she did something he didn't like he reacted the same way. He acted as if she were air until she came back humbly, begging his forgiveness, acknowledging him as her father and superior. But for that she wasn't going to apologize.

When the pastor came to propose to her she was terrified and devastated. She immediately declined, saying she wasn't ready to get married.

Her father corrected her, saying that any bride her age was ready to get married and that her family would welcome him as a foster son. At that moment she lost what little respect she felt for her father. Her mother, as usual, did not come to her defense.

From then on, she escaped to the chapel every day to pray in silence and talk to God about her plan. She asked him in her mind what he thought about running away, about marrying someone else, about postponing the wedding, and many other things that crossed her mind.

She wanted him to help her understand what to do. Why, if God's providence had clearly intended her to marry Mr. Smith, had she felt so bad about it.

She prayed to God for humility, wisdom, patience, and all the qualities she thought she lacked. Or at least that's what her father thought. She wanted him to be proud of her.

She was torn apart. She knew that if her grandfather were alive he would have given her some wise advice. But her grandfather was gone, and no one in her family wanted to hear about the fact that the wedding might not take place.

"He's a great young man. Handsome, God-fearing, well-read, with values. What more do you want? Greed and intemperance are grave sins, child." He had said it once, and she had the feeling that she would burn with embarrassment at his words. She felt ungrateful.

That night Ser Aemond came to the chapel for the first time, terrifying her. She thought that this was her punishment for her lack of humility from the heavens - her bodily and spiritual humiliation.

However, nothing happened. He prayed, tense and aloof, his face like a stone sculpture. She thought, watching him out of the corner of her eye, that he was terribly pale and wondered if he was suffering from something.

From then on she came to the chapel every day, hoping to meet him again. She never did. Without knowing why, she felt disappointed.

She hoped that this man was her sign from heaven, someone who would help her make the right decision. One night she simply fell asleep, waiting for him. When she woke up and saw him in the pew far behind her, she thought she was still dreaming.

His behavior was secretive and withdrawn. Ser Criston himself aroused suspicion in the inhabitants, rarely appearing outside his estate. Her father told her that he did not understand at all how such a wealthy man could buy such a hovel.

She herself noticed that when she went to the chapel late at night the light was often on in the mansion. She wondered when this man slept.

Sitting by the fire, wrapped in blankets with a cup in her hand, she thought about tomorrow's tea that her father had spoken of. His position in society was extremely important to him, and he considered that he would only be able to maintain it if he socialized with high society. He had chosen Ser Criston, and the arrival of his friend only made his task easier, making the invitation even more important.

Her heart clenched at the thought of seeing him again. No one but them knew that they had already spoken to each other several times, so she couldn't be too direct with him.

In fact, she shouldn't have spoken to him in front of her father at all. According to him, she was a young, engaged lady who should humbly lower her eyes and listen.

She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing in her mind his face bent over her, loud rain all around them. She felt like time stood still for her in that moment.

She wanted to cry from the helplessness of the excess of feelings that he aroused in her, and which she could not release in any way. She thought that Mr. Smith had never made her feel that way. When he spoke to her she felt absolutely nothing.

She decided not to go to the chapel that night. She didn't have the strength to meet him again. She was afraid that she might do something she would regret.

She thought that he was a man with nothing to lose. Whatever happens, he will return to his city and leave everything behind. She, on the other hand, will remain with the effects of her every little decision.

She went to sleep, sad and discouraged, turning from side to side. She prayed for him with her eyes closed, asking God to grant him all his grace and forgiveness for his sins. She wondered if he was waiting for her.

***

Aemond felt uncomfortable looking out the window at the darkened park. She didn't come, and he knew he was the reason why. He guessed she didn't know what to think of him, and he might have missed his only chance to meet her alone. He thought he would go mad if he didn't taste her soon.

No matter how.

It didn't help that Criston had reprimanded him harshly after he had returned to the estate. He was furious that he was making him and himself suspicious by showing his interest in this girl so openly. Aemond knew he was right, but he couldn't help it.

He wanted her.

The next day they dressed for tea in silence. Criston still didn't feel like talking to him because of their late-night discussion. Aemond decided not to provoke him and let him calm down.

The weather, to their despair, was warm and sunny. They covered themselves as much as they could and moved ahead on horseback, wanting to save as much time as possible. Mr. and Mrs. Whatrefield greeted them at the door, smiling warmly. Mr. Whaterfield held out his hands to them.

"Gentlemen! I'm very glad you came. I invite you to my humble home. Here is my wife, my daughters and my son-in-law, whom you met yesterday." He said, and Ser Criston nodded, taking off his top hat.

Aemond couldn't help but glance at Mr. Whaterfield's youngest daughter. She glanced at him with an unreadable expression on her face, looking away. Mr. Whaterfield approached him, surprising him.

“Ser Aemond, I am very sorry that you witnessed a scene involving my disobedient daughter yesterday. Your umbrella and coat lie washed and dried in the hall." He spoke low and calm. Aemond nodded at his words, but said nothing. After a while everyone went inside.

Aemond and Criston were ushered into a small, pleasant, bright lounge with light, blue bird wallpaper. There were plenty of large, tall windows around them, letting in plenty of light. Aemond felt dizzy at the feeling. He and Criston looked at each other, knowing neither of them would last long there.

Aemond and Criston sat in large, soft, upholstered armchairs across from a small coffee table. Mr. & Mrs. Fuuse sat on one sofa, and Mr. Mrs. and Miss Whaterfield sat on the other.

Mrs. Whaterfield ordered tea and biscuits. After a while a maid brought pots of tea and cups, then brought snacks. Aemond allowed himself a cup of tea as a courtesy, but he had no intention of eating anything.

Human food tasted like paper to him now.

Mrs. Whaterfield shifted in her seat, smiling, feeling that it was in her power to start the conversation.

"How do you like our little village, Ser Aemond? There are definitely more attractions in the city than here.” She said with a slight laugh under her breath.

Out of the corner of his eye Aemond saw Miss Whaterfield sigh softly at her question, looking away in embarrassment. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his amusement.

“It depends on what attractions you are looking for.” He answered briefly and enigmatically, his words practically nothing but grunts. Mrs. Fuuse looked at him in surprise.

"And what attraction do you seek in our Mantfield, sir?" She asked flirtatiously, waving her long, black eyelashes. Aemond smiled as he looked at young Miss Whaterfield who also glanced at him.

"Peace of mind." He answered briefly, never taking his intense gaze off her.

He felt satisfaction when he saw her flinch slightly, lowering her eyelids, a blush on her cheeks. She knew he was interested in her. She knew he wanted her.

He crossed his legs, wanting to hide the manhood throbbing painfully in his trousers.

Her father, seeing this exchange of glances, cleared his throat quietly, wanting to change the subject.

"Ser Criston, when are you planning to renovate the property? It's gorgeous, but from the outside, please forgive me for the word, it's just a ruin." He said incredulously, taking a sip of his tea.

Criston blinked, not knowing for a moment what to say. He wasn't planning any renovation, because he wasn't planning to stay there forever. But he couldn't tell them that.

“Perhaps next year. I am looking for appropriate specialists for this purpose.” He lied, smiling warmly.

Looking at him closely, Aemond decided that he was an excellent actor. He took his watch out of his waistcoat and looked at it. He was getting hotter and hotter, his skin starting to burn. Ten more minutes, he thought, and they could end this courtesy visit.

“Oh, I know the right company, run by a proven, responsible man. I'd love to introduce you." Mr. Whaterfield replied, apparently sensing another opportunity to make a deal. Criston smiled at his words, trying not to show the tiredness and discomfort he felt, similarly to his companion.

"Thank you, I will be greatly obliged." He said to close the subject.

Mr. Whaterfield then invited them to see their modest home. He led them through the rooms, talking about his ancestors, hanging on the wall. Most of them were wealthy merchants or petty nobility. Aemond pretended to be interested.

He shuddered as he saw Miss Whaterfield standing a few paces away, pensive, her face sad and expressionless. He walked closer to her, pretending to get a better look at the books on the large bookcase he was standing in front of. Even with so many people in the room, all he could smell was her scent.

She was driving him crazy.

"Have you stopped praying?" He asked quietly, standing with his back to the rest of the company, so that they would not see that he spoke to her.

She looked at him, surprised by his words, and bowed her head humbly. She was embarrassed to think that he knew she hadn't been in the chapel that night.

That maybe he was waiting for her.

"No. I prayed yesterday for myself and for you in my bed." She said just as quietly.

He looked at her so intensely that she shivered. It took her a second to think about what that sounded like. She blushed, turning her head away. She stared at her hands, pressing her lips together tightly.

For some reason she felt the shivering and warmth between her thighs again, a sticky wetness that made her uncomfortable.

Her sister had once told her that when a woman was happy with her husband she got wet between her thighs, but she didn't understand what she meant. She was afraid to ask about the details, not wanting to be accused of impure thoughts.

For some reason she sensed, or rather knew, that he would like to touch her again. She didn't have to look into his eye. She could feel it in his body posture, hear it in his rapid breathing. She flinched when she heard his voice.

"I'm dizzy. Can you please take me outside?" He asked low. She looked at him shocked and nodded quickly. Her family turned, worried, Mrs. Whaterfield wanted to offer her company or herbs for vertigo.

"No need." He replied coldly. "I'll be right back. I just want to get some air.” He said as he left first, Miss Whaterfield followed him obediently. She led him down the hall and then they went out into their small yard.

Aemond leaned against one of the pillars in the shadows, exhaling softly. Their home was like a hot greenhouse. There was a nice breeze outside, which kept them cool.

Aemond glanced out of the corner of his eye toward the window. He smiled to himself, as he saw her mother watching them shamelessly, not caring that she could be seen. He turned his gaze to Miss Whaterfield, who stood before him, frightened, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Will you pray now only in your bed, miss Whaterfield?" He asked, a note of irony in his voice. She pursed her lips at his words, sighing softly. She knew he was teasing.

"I don't know." She said quietly, looking at her hands. A smirk appeared on his face.

"You don't want to see me anymore?" He asked feisty, his chin lifted high. He wanted to grab her hair and pull her to him. Make her look at him, then put his tongue between her shiny, swollen lips. She looked at him surprised.

"Why does it matter to you, ser Aemond?" She asked resolutely, frowning. He pursed his mouth at her words, involuntarily running his tongue over his lips. He smiled as he saw her gaze immediately fell there.

"On this I base my decision as to how long I will stay here." He grunted lowly, smirking, clasping his hands behind him.

He watched with delight as she froze all over, her mouth parted in disbelief. She didn't know what to say.

"You're playing with me." She said it more as a statement than as a question. He raised his eyebrows at her words.

"I have serious intentions towards you, miss Whaterfield." He said low, looking down at her with a look full of desire that terrified her. She flinched at his words, not understanding what he meant.

She didn't have time to react because her father came out to them, clearly preoccupied with his condition. Criston followed him out of their house, putting on his top hat, thanking Mrs. Whaterfield for her hospitality.

"Are you feeling better already, sir? Do you need anything?" He asked courteously, still pretending that his daughter wasn't even there. Aemond decided to skip both of his questions.

"I want to ask you for your daughter's hand."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsfavouritebastard @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @bellameshipper

Others: @talesofoldandnew @toodlesxcuddles @padfooteyes @iloveallmyboys

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limitless-haven · 5 months ago

Text

Those Ocean Eyes

Synopsis: When you’re called upon by Tokyo Jujutsu High for an opportunity to study under the renowned Shoko Ieiri, you gladly accept the offer, leaving behind your old school. Here you start your new adventure, excited to learn and see where this life will take you, but what you don’t account for is that here is also where you truly fall in love for the first time.

Satoru Gojo is a charismatic enigma that captured your heart right away. As time goes on, you come to truly understand the pain behind those ocean eyes of his. The scariest part? His truth doesn’t terrify you like he expected it to. If anything it makes you fall more intense for him. You want to help shoulder the burden of his pain for the man you’ve come to love.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: MDNI. Heavy flirting/yearning, male masturbation, mention of death

A/N: ***This is a slow burn. Eventually, there will be some spicy scenes but I will give a warning beforehand.

***This story does contain elements, scenes, and dialog from the manga/anime.

***This story was influenced by the song Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish. Every time I hear the song, I can't help but think of Gojo and what a complex character he is. He is such a lovable character who deserves the world.

***This is also posted to my AO3 account under the name “kookie0807”

Chapter 3: Kikufuku

You stayed up for quite a bit last night talking to your mom. You told her all about your interaction with Shoko, and how safe and heard she made you feel. You told her about the other students here and how they mesh well together, and how you think they have the brightest futures. You told her about Gojo, just leaving out the parts where he had you melted into a puddle of embarrassment. Your mom told you she was beyond proud of you. She told you that your dad would have stars in his eyes because his little girl was going to save so many people. You guys laughed and even shed a few tears. This is the first time you’ve been so far away from your mom. In Kyoto, you lived in the same dormitory hall as your mother, she being a teacher for the school and you being the resident healer.

It was about nine in the morning when your alarm went off. Reluctantly you rolled over and turned it off. You huff and just lay there on your back for a minute, not sure if you are ready for the day. After all, you’ll be training with Satoru today, and there’s no telling how that was going to go. You finally get up, go into the bathroom to put on some light makeup, do your hair, and brush your teeth. Feeling like a human now, you walk back into your room and stand there in front of your closet. You're debating on what to wear, a cute pair of leggings and sports bra or gym shorts and a tank top. You decide on the leggings and sports bra. The leggings are black and show off your toned legs and hug the material around your ass so, so tight. You didn’t have the biggest ass, but you did workout to make sure it was firm but jiggly in all the right spots, and perky. The sports bra is a ‘peek-a-boo’ type that is also black, it holds the ‘girls’ up but in a sexy way with a little bit of extra skin showing. You put on a pair of fully white high-top converses and look in the mirror. This outfit hugs you in all the right spots, showing off your hourglass figure. ‘Damn, I look good!’ You say to yourself. You wonder if a certain white-haired man would think the same. You put back a couple of things in their place and head out the door to the sparing room.

You get to the room first and knock on the door. You wait for an answer but hear nothing so you decide to head in. Once inside you see the room is quite bare. There are quite a few mats down on the floor, a couple of chairs along a wall, and a vending machine full of drinks. It’s your typical sparing room. You decide to grab a bottle of water from the machine, you scan your phone and click on the one you want, when you bend down to get it, the door opens to who can only be one other person.

Gojo walks into the room and sees that you're bent down in front of the machine. What he didn’t expect was for you to be wearing such tight, perfectly fitted black leggings. ‘Fuck, this is gonna be fun.’ He thinks to himself. Today was really going to test his ability to keep it together and not throw you down on the mats and have you squirming around from pure ecstasy underneath him. He notices you didn’t hear him come in so he starts to walk over to you. As soon as you get back up from grabbing your water and turn around, Satoru has you backed into the machine, one hand trapping your body between himself and said machine.

Your back presses against the cold machine causing you to gasp but then you realize who has you trapped. You look up to find Satoru smiling at you. “H-hi Satoru.” You say before he can say something first.

“Well hi, pretty girl. My, what an outfit you picked out for today huh?” He says with a smile that shows just how much he’s enjoying seeing you in said outfit.

“Oh, this? I-I thought we’d be working up a sweat today, so I-I put this on.” You look down at your body, now wondering if this was the right call. Of course, you felt confident but did you make Satoru uncomfortable?

Satoru bites his lip as he lowers his head to take in the sight of you again. “Oh, we will. But this outfit, it’s doin’ things to me. I’m not sure what kinda sweat we may end up workin’ is all.”

You blush at his suggestive comment. You would love nothing more than that, honestly but you have to stay focused. No matter how much you wanted Satoru to make good on that word, you wanted to take this seriously. You needed to at least be able to throw a good punch and dodge one too. “Satoru, stop. We’re supposed to be training…not…not that.” You say sheepishly, your cheeks are bright pink.

He can’t help but love this little act you put on, like you aren’t affected by his words. Like you didn’t put that outfit on to rile him up, he knows you did. He takes a breath and calms himself. “You’re right, we’ll save that for later.” He backs away from you and goes to stand in the middle of the sparring room. You take in his outfit. Why is he wearing his normal jujutsu attire? Why does he still have the blindfold on? You give him a puzzled look. “Why are you in your school uniform?”

He snorts. “Without trying to sound too cocky, this is all I need.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying you won’t break a sweat from training with me?”

He smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. If we’re being honest with each other here, I can promise ya, you won’t be able to touch me.”

You scowl at him. Was this guy serious? Did he seriously think that little of you? You want nothing more than to prove his arrogant ass wrong. “What about the blindfold?” You pause. “Come to think of it, why are you always wearing it?”

He chuckles. “Tell ya what, you ever manage to land a punch on me and I’ll let you in on the secret.”

‘A challenge? Oh, you’re on!’ You think to yourself. You take off in a full sprint towards Satoru and throw your hand out but right before you can land it, it feels like you’ve hit an invisible wall. Your hand stops a couple of inches away from his chest. You look up at him and he’s got that shit-eating grin you’ve come to know.

“Limitless,” that’s all he says with a smile. And then before you can blink, there is a flash of light and he’s now standing behind you on the other side of the room. You stumble but catch yourself and turn around to face him. Why did your hand stop in midair from connecting with him?

You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Limitless? I mean, I’ve heard you have it but what exactly is it?”

He just stands there smiling at you. “It allows me to employ the concept of ‘infinity’ in a way where I can manipulate and distort space at my will.”

So that bastard knew from the moment he said he would be training you, that you wouldn’t be able to land anything on him. ‘What a jackass!’ You think to yourself. “How the hell am I supposed to hit you then?” You huff out once again.

Satoru thinks you look so fucking cute when you’re angry like this. He wants nothing more than to tame the brat that you are. He puts his hands behind his head, stretching his long body. “Dunno, that's for you to figure out (Y/N).” He smiles. “C’mon try again. I promise I won’t move.”

You roll your eyes at cheekiness. Shoko was right, Satoru is very cocky but with good reason. How the hell was anyone supposed to one-up the guy? You sigh and take off towards him again, this time going for a kick. Like before, your foot never makes contact with him like you wanted it to. It’s just floating there a couple of inches from him. You look at him and grit your teeth. You then drop your foot and try to punch his stomach but you're stopped again. He bends down to your hand, floating inches from his body.

“Givin’ it your all?” He asks and brings his hand up to yours. They are still separated by the invisible barrier though. He then flicks his finger in the direction of your hand and you go flying back onto the mat below. It’s with enough force that you bounce a little bit but aren’t hurt, well you can’t say the same for your pride.

You stare up at him with wide eyes. What the hell was that? He then stands with his legs spread wide apart and starts to stretch placing one hand on either knee and twisting. ‘Oh please like this is exhausting for you!’ You think to yourself. You get up from the mat and straighten out your leggings and sports bra.

You look at the door and sigh. “There is no point in training with you if I can’t ever touch you.”

Satoru huffs now, like a toddler not getting a new toy from the store. “C’mon, I was havin’ fun.” He says. “Fine, I’ll turn my infinity off but I don’t think you’re gonna like that result either.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow and then roll your eyes. “Stop being so cocky. You said you’d help me train so let’s do this!”

Satoru frowns at you. “But I don’t wanna hurt such a pretty girl.”

“I’m tougher than I look!” You all but shout. Was he actually going to hurt you? He was a lot bigger than you in every sense of the way.

“Fine but don’t cry when I kick your ass.” He says with a smile.

You roll your eyes. ‘That’s it! If it’s the last thing I do today, I will punch you Satoru Gojo!’ You say in your head.

You take off at him again, throwing a punch for his face but he moves his head out of the way. He grabs your arm and brings it down to his side, holding you there. This is the first time he’s ever touched you and you feel sparks from where his hand is. His touch is firm but doesn’t hurt, he’s softer than you’d imagine and god does it feel magical. You yank your arm back out of his grasp and stare at him, holding your arm where his hand just was.

“See, it’s off but you’re still not gonna be able to hit me.” He smiles.

You rub your arm where he grabbed you at. ‘Now is not the time to be fantasizing about his big, strong hands!’ You say to yourself. “No, it’s not. I still couldn’t hit you.” You say matter-of-factly.

He can’t help but let out a sizable laugh. He grabs his stomach from his hard he’s laughing. You feel embarrassed, your cheeks turning red. Once he calms down he says to you. “With my limitless power, I have control of how close things get to me, and that in turn controls how close I’m able to get to things. I have to turn it off if I want to make contact with anything.” He explains as he steps forward towards you. “So by me grabbin’ ya, trust me, it’s off.” He then grabs you by the arm and throws you over his head and onto the mat below.

You hit the mat a little harder than the invisible flick you took earlier which causes you to grimace. You look up at him before gathering all your strength and trying to sweep-kick him. As if he can read minds now, he backs up just in time before you make contact with him. You feel an undeniable rush of rage go through you, and you jump back to your feet. You just start punching all over, not caring where you’d hit but wanting to land one. He dodges every single one with ease. Before you know it, you’ve backed him toward the end of the room against the wall. You think this is your chance and go for one last swing. This time Satoru catches the punch in his hand and twists your arm behind your back, putting him behind you now. He slams your body against the wall face first, like a cop arresting someone. Thankfully you turned your head so you didn’t take the impact to your face. When your body collides with the wall you let out a groan of pain, breathing a bit heavier now from all those failed punches.

Satoru holds your arm in his large hand. He can tell you’re pissed off now and he can’t lie, it turns him on. He leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Told ya.” He then presses his body into your back, squishing you against the wall even more.

You let out a gasp as you feel his toned, firm, massive body being pressed against you. You can’t be dishonest with yourself and say it didn't make you a little aroused with your current position with him. His mouth is right next to your ear, his body pressing into you. It all was starting to make you blush and feel lightheaded. You start to wiggle around, trying to free yourself from his grasp but it is no use he’s just too strong. You hear him breathe a little harder into your ear and grab you tighter, almost as if warning you to stop moving. It makes you blush all over.

“Careful princess, you might be in for a big surprise if you keep doing that.” He chuckles.

You bite your lip to stop the groan from escaping. Big surprise? Oh no, now you’re thinking about what he honestly means. Satoru is a very tall, athletic man. His hands were so large compared to yours, and his feet were massive, it made you wonder just how true his words were but you can just tell that Satoru Gojo isn’t lacking in the ‘big dick’ department, of course, why wouldn’t he be!? He was too perfect. Handsome face, nice muscular body, tall, arrogant, supposed big dick. ‘THAT'S NOT FAIR!’ You shout in your head. You decided to rile him up, if he could do it to you then why not do it back to him? “B-big surprise huh? Maybe I like big surprises.”

He chuckles moving closer until his lips come in contact with the outer shell of your ear. “Oh (Y/N), you’re playin’ a dangerous game. Believe me, I would love nothin’ more than to prove it to you but I know you’d have a difficult time handling me.”

You feel a deep throb down below, you can feel yourself getting more and more aroused by the second. The way he was leaning into you, the way his plump lips ghosted over your ear, the way his grip on your arm only tightened as he spoke. It was becoming too much but before you could say or do anything else, Satoru reluctantly let go of your arm and stepped back. You just stay up against the wall for a second, trying to catch your breath. When you feel like you do, you turn around to face him. He looks completely unfazed by what just happened, meanwhile, you're a little sweaty and your cheeks are flushed. You give him an annoyed look.

Satoru was turned on beyond belief, if he wasn’t careful, he’d be sporting a raging hard-on right now, he was already starting to chub up. He can’t remember the last time he wanted a woman so much, hell if ever. He wanted nothing more than to show you just how big he was, god he wanted to so badly but with being in the sparring room, anyone could walk in. He was getting too worked up. He takes a deep breath in, calming himself. “That’s enough for now. Shoko wants to see you in the lab.” He says as he turns towards the door and heads out without even looking back at you.

You were surprised and confused by his abrupt attitude change. What the hell is his problem? He came on to you and yet vanished when you teased him back a little? Was it too much? Was he uncomfortable? You push those thoughts to the back of your head as you grab your water and head out the door making your way over to the lab.

Satoru makes a b-line for his room. Once inside, he locks the door and heads into the bathroom. He turns the shower on but not to a hot setting. He sticks with a rather cool temperature. He takes off his clothes, throwing them down into a pile on the floor. He then takes off his blindfold, his snow-white hair falling in his face. He blinks rapidly for a second to adjust his eyes to the room. His bright blue eyes stare back at himself in the mirror. He looks at himself for a second before jumping into the shower. He stands there under the shower head, letting the water run down his ripped, tall body. His hands are on the tile in front of him, almost like he’s holding himself up. His mind immediately goes to you. He thinks about how fucking good it felt to have your teeny body pressed against him. How good you smelled. How your rapid little breaths made him want to make you do it more, made him want to turn them into pure, unadulterated moans. He feels his cock start to stir back to life. ‘Fuck, what are ya doin’ to me princess?’ He questions you in his head. He takes one hand off the wall and moves it down to grab his hardening member. He slowly drags his hand up to the head and squeezes. He lets out a sigh, he knows he shouldn’t be this affected by you but goddamn it you were so enticing. He starts to stroke himself faster, his grip tightening as he goes. He thinks about how different that little interaction could have gone. He wanted to spin you around and push you down to your knees. He wanted to watch as you ate those words when he pulled his cock out. He wanted to see the stunned look in your eyes once you saw just how massive his cock really was. He wanted to watch those pretty little lips wrap around the head of his cock and suck lightly before he pushed more into your hot, wet mouth. “Shit. Hah-,” he moans out as his hand slides up and down his cock at a quickened pace. He was so, so close to finishing already. He imagines how you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. How you would take it down your throat, choking on him inch by impressive inch. He wants to see your eyes get teary as you deepthroat him. At that thought he's panting heavily now. “Ngh, fuck, (Y/N)!” he moans out as he’s cumming in hot, white ropes all over his hand and the shower wall. He stays in the shower a bit longer, catching his breath. He then washes his body and hair before getting out and going about his day like he didn’t just cum to the thought of you.

————————————————

Before you know it, a month has passed. You’re still training with Satoru every day in the sparring room, although you haven’t managed to land a single punch on him. Principal Yaga has told you not to get discouraged, these things take time, and that he would rather you learn how to protect yourself than see you end up seriously hurt or worse. Things with Shoko are going well. You have a big ‘test’ coming up soon. She said that it’s going to be going over everything you learned in that book she gave you a while ago now. Shoko also said if you pass, she’s going to take you out for a night on the town, her treat! You studied it every night so you know you’ll pass with flying colors. You’ve been able to heal up some of the students as they’ve gone on missions but nothing too extensive.

Just like any other day, you walk into the sparring room to already find Gojo sitting on one of the chairs. You put your phone and water bottle down on the chair beside him. He looks up at you. “Ready to try and kick my ass again?” He chuckles out.

You roll your eyes at him already being annoying. “Sure am. I’m gonna hit you today, I can feel it.”

He tilts his head back and lets out a cackle. “Sure thing princess. Tell ya what, you manage to hit me today and I’ll take ya shoppin‘. Even let you use my card.” He says as an incentive.

Shopping with Satoru’s card!? You knew he was loaded being the heir to the Gojo clan but a part of you would feel bad taking his money. Nonetheless, you agree. “Deal but don’t cry when I rack up quite the charges.” You say smiling at him.

Satoru smirks back at you. “You won’t even be able to put a dent in my bank account princess.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. You take your stance on the mats and wait for him to join you. He gets up from the chair and walks over to you standing in front of you now. He’s the first one to throw a punch at you. He aims for your stomach but you back away. You drop down to the ground and try to sweep his lanky legs from him but he jumps over the kick. Once he lands back down he grabs your arm and flips you over his body but you manage to land on your feet. He still got ahold of your arm so you twist your body around so your fronts are facing each other. You use your legs to kick off his rock-hard stomach, flipping over in the process and landing on both of your feet. Satoru just smirks at you. “Not bad.”

You smile but don’t waste time getting caught up in his compliment. You charge for him but he grabs you by the arm again, this time you're being held against his hip. Just then the door opens and Yuji comes in. “Gojo-sensi!” He yells.

It takes Satoru by surprise, you can tell he’s dropped his guard so with all the strength you can muster up in your tiny body, you grab onto his arm and press your hip into his effectively hip tossing him down onto the mat below. Satoru is stunned for a moment too late because as soon as he hits the mat, he’s met with your first to his chest. You did it! You hit him! You actually hit him!

He stares up at you, your fist still on his chiseled chest. You look down at him and now, you have the biggest shit-eating grin on your face. “….i hit you…I FUCKING HIT YOU!” You shout!

Satoru can’t help but smile and laugh. You did indeed hit him. “Well, I’ll be damned. You sure did pretty girl.” He says. Something inside his heart starts to flutter. He can’t explain why but he is truly happy to see your reaction. It’s so pure, so refreshing, so goddamn cute. Spending every day with you for the last month has made Satoru realize just how much he genuinely likes you. You’re not afraid to give him shit back, you’re not afraid to voice your opinions, you’re determined to get better at being a sorcerer, you’re funny, kind, sweet, and did mention the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t help but smile up at you.

You straighten up and hold your hand out which Satoru takes it. You help him get back to his feet and then run over to Yuji, hugging him so tightly! He’s surprised but hugs you back, his little cheeks turning a pink shade. “What’s this for?”

You're still hugging him. “You were the perfect distraction Yuji! I finally landed a hit on Satoru!” You say excitedly and let him go looking at said man.

Satoru can’t help but smirk. ‘Damn kid.’ He thinks to himself. “Yuji, what the hell?.” He frowns. “C’mon I thought we were bros!”

Yuji just laughs and rubs the back of his head. “We are Gojo, sorry bout that! But I came to tell you that Yaga wants to see you.”

Satoru sighs. “Damn that old man…I’ll be right there.” He directs his attention to you now. “As for you, go get ready. I’m a man of my word. A princess deserves her shoppin’ trip.” He says as he passes you and heads out the door to find Yaga. You tell Yuji thank you even though he had no idea he was helping you.

You stand there smiling to yourself, feeling so giddy. You grab your phone and water bottle then rush out the door to your room. Once there, you take a shower and do your hair and make-up. You pick out a mini light blue sundress and pair it with some white wedge sandals. You hear a knock on your door and head over to open it. Your heart skips a beat when you see him. There stands the most handsome man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. Satoru is wearing a pair of dark wash slim-fit jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of white Converse. Your gaze finally reaches his face. For the first time since you’ve met him, he’s not wearing a blindfold but a pair of dark blue, almost black sunglasses. His white fluffy hair is down in his face, messy but still elegant. You still can’t see his eyes and it’s driving you crazy! He’s smiling at you. “(Y/N), you look- so beautiful.” He says.

You're blushing before you know it but smiling back at him. “T-thank you. You look very h-handsome Satoru.” You say stumbling over your words a bit. Who can blame you though? Anyone in your position would be stunned by this man’s true beauty too!

“Ijichi is waiting for us out front. C’mon let’s go.” You follow him out to the car, greeting Ijichi and thanking him for driving you there. Once you two get to the mall, you look at Satoru.

“You seriously don’t have to buy me anything, you know that…right?” You ask him.

He just lets out a little laugh and smirks at you. “And I thought I told ya, I’d be paying for this shopping trip.”

You shake your head. “No Satoru, I can’t just take your money. I was just joking with you earlier about racking up charges.”

He just smiles at you. “I really don’t care (Y/N). Money doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

You continue to shake your head. “I’m not going to let you pay for anything.”

Satoru lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes under his sunglasses. “Fine.” He then grabs your hand, locking his long fingers around yours. “This is a date. Let me be a gentleman and pay for my girl.” He smiles down at you.

Your heart skips a beat, there are so, so many butterflies in your stomach. You look up at him, shocked that he said that. Shocked that he called you his girl. You feel lightheaded. Your legs are starting to wobble a bit. He notices the change in your behavior and squeezes your hand. “Y’okay pretty?”

You nod your head, still staring at him. He’s just smiling down at you. You feel him squeeze your hand again and it brings you back down to reality. He turned off his infinity for you!? You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before. “Y-yeah, m’okay…” you say sheepishly.

He leans down getting close to your face. “Somethin’ wrong?” He questions.

You shake your head. “N-no not at all. J-just makes me shy when you say stuff…like that.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “The date part? Or that I called ya, my girl?”

Your cheeks flush red now. God, did he have to tease you? “…Sattoorruuu,” you whine. “It’s both…” you say.

He can’t help but smile at your reaction. “What? I’m jus' going on a date with my pretty girl.” He says.

You lean into his arm and hide your face. Satoru can’t help but grin at your adorable reaction. “C’mon, where do you wanna go first?” He asks as he starts walking, in turn making you walk with him.

You look around the mall at the different stores. You see a really cute boutique that sells cute girly things, you see a shoe store, a jewelry store, a book store, and a store that sells just lingerie. Satoru notices your eyes stop at the lingerie store for a bit longer than the others. “You wanna go in there? I won't complain once.” He says tilting his head in that direction and grinning.

You blush again and shake your head. “No, no, no. I can’t handle that.” You say shyly.

Satoru lets out a laugh and smiles. “Next time then? Let’s go into that store, yeah?” He says as he points to the cute little boutique. You nod your head in agreement and head off that way. You find a couple of cute things and true to his word, Satoru doesn’t let you pay for anything. You visit a couple more stores and find little things here and there, all of which Satoru pays for. After a while, you’ve accumulated a few bags and head off back to the car where Ijichi is waiting. Satoru takes the bags from you and places them in the trunk. You both get in the car and head back to the school but before you can get there, you notice the part of town you're in. ‘Wait, is this the place?’ You think to yourself.

“Ijichi, please stop the car now.” You say politely.

He does as you say, pulling the car into a parking space. “Is anything wrong Ms. (Y/L/N)?” He asks, a bit concerned about the sudden urgency to stop.

“No, I just really got to use the ladies' room.” You lie.

“Oh okay.” He says.

“Satoru, can you come with me?” You look at him and ask.

“You need me to go into the bathroom with ya?” He asks, confused.

You laugh and smile. “No, but could you maybe wait outside on those benches for me?” You say as you point to a bench just off to the side of all these little shops.

“Uh, sure.” He is still confused.

You thank Ijichi and get out of the car, pulling Satoru along with you. You make him sit at the bench and promise he won’t move. You tell him you’ll be right back and head towards the bathroom. You round the corner and there you spot it….it being his favorite Kikufuku mochi stand.

You walk up to the older grandma working the stand and order a box of freshly made Kikufuku. A couple of minutes later, she returns with your order and you pay, thanking her. ‘I hope Megumi wasn’t lying.’ You think to yourself as you approach Satoru from behind. You think he might have turned back on his infinity so you don’t put your hands over his eyes like you would like to. Instead, you step from around him with your hands behind your back, holding the mochi from his sight. He smirks when he sees you but is still rather confused. “What’s this about?” He asks.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth please?” You ask him sweetly.

He gives you a questionable look. “You’re not gonna put somethin’ phallic in my mouth are ya?”

You can’t help but let out a gut-busting laugh. “No, no I promise.” You say as you feel tears form in your eyes from laughing so hard.

Satoru cautiously closes his eyes. “Ok, they’re closed.” He says.

“You promise?” You ask.

He grins. “I promise princess.”

You trust him, you just wanted to give him a hard time because he would do the same to you. You take the box from behind your back and open it. You then unwrap one of the Kikufuku and move toward his mouth.

“Open.” You say to him. He opens that big, beautiful mouth of his and you place half of the mochi in. “Now bite down.” You tell him.

He follows your orders and bites down. He instantly recognizes that it’s Kikufuku, it just so happens to be his favorite thing ever. The chewy mochi paired with the not-too-overly-sweet filling is absolute perfection. He opens his eyes, not that you can see them anyway, and looks at you. His heart skips a beat. The pure joy on your face is making his heart beat fast. He’s never felt like this for a girl before.

You watch as he savors the mochi. You find it absolutely adorable how the smile on his face hasn’t gone away since he found out that he was eating. You find the butterflies returning as you watch him. “I take it you like them?” You ask him.

“Kikufuku is the best! How’d y’know these were my favorite?” He asks, looking up at the box in your hand.

“Oh I was talking to the first years one day and you came up in our conversation. Megumi said that those were your favorite mochi. I saw Ijichi driving by the one place that sells them so I had to have him pull over. I wanted to get you something.” You smile at him.

He just stares at you. He knows it’s just a simple gesture, but it means the world to him. Most people around him don’t really listen to him, they just think he’s being annoying. So the fact that you went out of your way to bring him here and buy him his favorite mochi, well Satoru Gojo feels like the luckiest man on the planet right now. He reaches out for what you think is the box but he grabs your arm and pulls you to sit on his lap. You're sitting sideways on top of his legs, your feet are dangling to the side of his calf. He wraps his long arms around your waist and holds you.

You can’t lie, it feels so nice to be this close to him but it also makes you nervous. You’ve caught feelings for this man in such a short period of time that it kind of scares you. He makes your heart flutter at the simplest things.

“I take it Megumi wasn’t lying to me.” You say with a giggle, enjoying the feeling of his big, strong arms around you.

“Nah, the kid knows me well.” He says as he takes another mochi from the box and pops it into his mouth. “These are heaven!” He says while grinning.

“And how well is that?” You ask curiously. You knew out of the first years, Megumi was the one who knew Gojo the longest but you had no idea what their relationship was like.

“Back when I was sixteen….” He pauses, about to open up to you for the first time. He feels comfortable enough to share. “His father was sent on a mission to kill this girl my best friend and I were protecting. He ended up succeeding in killing her.” He gets serious. “In the process, the bastard ended up almost killin’ me but on the brink of death I figured out how to use the reverse cursed technique and healed myself.” He says with a sigh. Satoru didn’t like killing people but it came along with the territory of being a Jujutsu sorcerer and the strongest one at that. “I…I killed him and in his final words, he told me that he sold his son to the Zenin clan. Knowin' how awful they would have been to the poor kid, I decided to step in. A couple of years later when Megumi was about six years old, a first grader, I found him and took him under my wing. I was only about eighteen or nineteen” He sighs. “Megumi needed someone to guide and protect him from this fucked up world of bein’ a jujutsu sorcerer.”

Sixteen!? This happened to him at sixteen? He was forced to kill a man at such a young age? God, you couldn’t imagine the mental toll that took on him. At that age, you were worried about failing your school tests and hanging out with your friends. Satoru was out here protecting people, having to kill some at that. “Oh wow. That’s a lot for a sixteen-year-old.” You say, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine what that was like and then to turn around and take care of a child at such a young age yourself?” You look at his face and give him a soft smile. “Megumi is very lucky to have you.”

Satoru smiles. “Nah, I’m nothin’ special. Just doin’ my job. This is what people expect from me. I’m the strongest after all. They don’t care if I live or die.”

You hate how nonchalant he is about killing a man at sixteen and then taking in his child at eighteen or nineteen...like this was a normal occurrence for everyone? You hated it even more that it seems people have never valued Satoru’s life, in turn making him not see the value in it either. You shake your head and then wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you. You felt this overwhelming heartbreak for him. How could anyone just treat him like he was just a tool like his life meant nothing? Why would the higher-ups ever send a kid on a mission like that?

“That’s not fair, Satoru. That’s not fair at all. When do you get to be weak? When do you get to say no? Why didn’t those evil people treat you like a human?” You start to spiral. “You’re fucking human, Satoru. Not some unstoppable monster for the jujutsu higher-ups. Your feelings matter, your safety matters.” You lean back out from hugging him and grab his face between both of your hands. You look into his eyes despite the sunglasses being in the way and you feel your eyes starting to tear up. “You matter, Satoru. You matter so much.”

Satoru is stunned by your words. Never has anyone in his life told him that he mattered. No one has ever acknowledged that he’s a human with feelings too. No one has ever cared for him like this. It’s a new experience for him and he’s a little overwhelmed. He looks at you and gives you a tender smile, his heart is fluttering. “(Y/N), I-I,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Stop.” You say and he closes his mouth. “You are so special Satoru. Not because you’re the strongest but because you’re you. This world would be a much darker place without you.” You say as a tear falls from your eye. You have never felt this emotional about someone telling you about their past, about how little the higher-ups have made him feel about himself. They made him feel like he was completely disposable.

He’s looking at you watching as the tear falls down your face. He can’t help but feel like at this moment in time, he finally matters. His feelings are valid. He reaches out for your face and wipes away the tear gently. This action makes you look at him. He then moves the hand that just wiped away your tears and moves it towards his sunglasses. You watch him intently. He then removes his glasses and you are met with the most beautiful pair of ocean-blue eyes ever created. He blinks a couple of times to adjust to the sudden intake of light and energy flow. You just look at him.

“Aw, c’mon. You don't find me attractive? Should I have left ‘em on?” He jokes with you. You watch his eyes crinkle up from him smiling.

“S-Satoru,” you say as you look into his bright eyes. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Your eyes are so beautiful.” Your cheeks are flushing pink.

Now here is a thing no one would ever have imagined to see, the Satoru Gojo is blushing. His cheeks are a dusty pink color. He feels very vulnerable right now. No woman has ever had him feeling like this. Is this love? He doesn’t know but what he does know is that you make him happy beyond his wildest dreams. He smiles a genuine smile and you watch as it reaches his eyes. He is so adorable right now. You think you could get used to this Satoru. Yes, you loved when he was joking and teasing you but you also loved that he was showing you this side of himself that was so defenseless, so free.

“Well thank ya, my pretty girl.” He says as he pinches your side causing you to flinch and laugh.

“Why have you been hiding them?” You ask.

“My six eyes? It’s the Gojo clan's inherited gift, not everyone is born with 'em though. It grants me an incredible perception of cursed energy. I can distinguish different people and curses from miles away. It also lets me control my cursed energy. That combined with my limitless technique and you have the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.” He says as he leans back on the bench. “If I have them uncovered for long periods of time, it can fatigue me a little.”

“I didn’t know it was that powerful Satoru, but always remember that you're more than just the strongest sorcerer.” You say to him with a soft smile. Having that kind of capability just from taking off the coverings from his eyes is astonishing. You can’t imagine the physical strain of seeing everyone’s flow of cured energy all the time must do to him. “Wait,” you say. “If you can see cursed energy from everyone around you…” your voice fades off as you think about earlier. Oh, this man…he-he…

“Let you hit me earlier?” He says with a smug grin. “Yes princess, I did.”

You look at him stunned and a bit annoyed. You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Satoru! Why would you do that? I thought I was getting better!” You speak like a scorned child.

He lets out a laugh and pinches your cheek. “You are gettin’ better. I’m just not the person who’s ass you could ever kick.” He says cockily with a wink. “You've been doin’ so much over the last month, I wanted to show my appreciation for all your hard work.” He says genially. “Plus, I wanted to get you all to myself for a bit.” He says grinning and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Before anything else can be said or done, Ijichi comes running up to the both of you. He stands behind the bench. “Satoru, there you are.” He says out of breath from running around.

Gojo lets out a groan, putting his sunglasses back on. “Ijichi, are ya related to Kugisaki by chance?”

Ijichi looks very confused. “No Gojo. Why would you think that?”

He sighs and throws his head back looking at Ijichi behind him. “Because you two have the shittiest timin' ever.” He says rather gravely.

Ijichi looks like he’s about to shit his pants. He hates it when Gojo gets serious, especially towards him. “imverysorrypleasedonthurtme.” He rushes out.

Satoru chuckles. “Expect a forehead flick. What did you want?”

“Principal Yaga called and requested you back at the school. He said there is a grade one curse he needs you to take care of.” Ijichi informs him, covering his forehead already imagining the pain of said forehead flick.

Satoru scoffs. “Like that’ll take any time at all.” He lifts his head back up and looks at you. “Sorry pretty, but we gotta go.” You hop off his lap and straighten out your dress. Satoru leans down to whisper in your ear so Ijichi can’t hear. “When I do finally get you to myself, I promise to show ya a real good time.” He says the innuendo like it was nothing which causes you to blush bright pink.

Satoru grabs your hand and you start walking back to the car with him and Ijichi. You all get in and head back to the school. On the way back you start to relive the day. It was such a fun time getting away from school and just being able to spend time with Satoru. You love that he is opening up to you. You can tell you're starting to fall for this man, and hard. Little did you know, Satoru Gojo was starting to feel the same for you, he was just too scared to admit it. He didn’t want to put you in the position of being worried about him all the time, even though he knew nothing would happen to him. After all, he was the strongest…but sometimes it felt nice to be weak in front of the right person.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #smut #gojo smut #angst #slow burn #gojo x reader smut

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michixoxo · 8 months ago

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"𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮?"

what is the unO main cast's ethnicity's and sexualities?

Sera

bi queen

the head of the bisexuals actually

perfect arc sera probably had a hint that she liked girls but shoved it so down into her soul that pretty much no one would've guessed

she probably tried forcing herself to like arlo but that lasted for like 30 minutes at best...

during cripple john, she probably didn't really care about her sexuality, only being able to finally admit she liked girls.

she's not in the closet anymore really, she just doesn't tell anyone about it unless they specifically ask.

she's never brought up anything sexuality related with her parents. leilah did once and it didn't go over very smoothly.

her childhood gay awakening was shego from kim possible

she's russian but lived in the U.S. for her entire life

she doesn't speak the language but can understand certain common words and learned multiple swear words from leilah when they were kids

John

omnisexual brat

he never really cared about the genders of people he liked

he'd just see someone and think they were hot, regardless of what they presented themselves as.

though, i think his kryptonite is most definitely boobs

he blushes pretty much whenever a pretty girl talks to him

when he was younger he had the teenest, tinest crush on zirian for like two months or so

but it quickly went out the window once he dethroned him

he also may have a thing for people stronger than him, both ability wise and physical wise

he was never really in the closet so to speak, he once asked his dad if it was normal to like both guys and girls and william was the most supportive dad ever about it all

he makes jokes that make it obvious he likes guys as well, but he'll only specifically state his sexuality when asked about it.

his childhood gay awakening was shang from Mulan.

he's half-german half-american, at least thats what his dad tells him

he only really considers himself american since he doesn't know his mom

william tried both learning german himself and teaching it to john but john got bored so fast that it was a complete waste of time

like sera, he knows a few swear words and will just shout them out randomly

Arlo

bi king

so far into the closet its actually insane

at least he's well dressed (unlike a certain joker cough cough)

he definitely didn't understand anything about being gay or whatever. his parents aren't too conservative but they definitely didn't teach nor tell him anything about same sex love, and not in a positive light anyway.

he barely had any girl crushes and almost never any guy crushes, so he didn't even think about his sexuality at all.

until he entered wellston and became a little too involved with a certain blue haired king (fly high rei)

he gay panicked so hard the first time he saw rei without a shirt on, like his entire body malfunctioned and started convulsing.

till tomorrow, he'll never come out. he might have some internalized homophobia and be concerned about how the people closest to him might view him, especially his aunt.

the closet is sealed shut and bulletproof at this point

his childhood gay awakening was both aladdin and prince eric

he's french and has all the audacity of a parisian

he speaks the language pretty fluently already and takes french class at wellston for the easy grade.

he lived in Paris until he was 7 and learned to suppress his accent a lot, though it comes out whenever he's extremely pissed.

he just screams in a raspy parisian accent and its either extremely hot or viscerally terrifying depending on who you ask

Remi

pansexual girlboss

she loves everyone with no preference at all

shes always just been really non-judgemental about everything and so kind

"omg he's so cute! wait he's non-binary? omg they're so cute!"

like John, she'd just see someone and think they were cute, regardless of their gender

she remembers having her first crush on a girl at 13.

remi: mom, can i start dating yet?

mama lightning: ABSOLUTELY NOT! no boys until you're 30!

remi: ...well do I have news for you

speaking of girl crushes, I think the wellston lesbians love her. like, she's friendly, pretty, and strong to the point where its intimidating but not absolutely terrifying.

evie probably wrote fanfics about her and posted them on ao3

this sweetiepie also might've had a crush on perfect arc seraphina for about a month, but she quickly got over it once she saw just how different their idealogies and personalities were.

her childhood gay awakening was calhoun from wreck it ralph

her parents are both canadians and she made trips to both vancouver and quebec to visit family very regularly.

she picked up a little quebecois and tried speaking it to arlo. she still remembers the absolute look of disdain he gave her.

Blyke

demisexual malewife

he never felt anything like love at first sight, even towards remi

it takes a lot for him to begin liking someone, even platonically. he isn't the nicest guy and wasn't all that interested in making many friends, especially very surface level ones.

that said, he didn't really think much of it. his sexuality wasn't ever really on his mind.

it wasn't until remi that he knew what it meant to really, truly like someone. from the way they blinked to the way they breathed.

it was like his eyes were opened for the first time in a long, long while.

that said, he was low-key kinda afraid to tell his mom about it.

he just didn't want it to change anything, didn't know if it was important enough that he should even waste his time on telling her.

but when he did finally, it didn't go how he expected.

blyke: mom, I think I'm like, demisexual... or something...

blyke's mom: demisexual and still can't get a boyfriend nor a girlfriend? bless your heart

blyke: that's not even what it's.... y'know what? idk why I bother

his childhood gay awakening was Danny from Danny phantom

WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER?!?!? 🦅🦅🦅

american born and raised in the mid-west

he was really confused the first time isen came over to his dorm and blyke slapped his hands on his knees and said "welp, guess it getting past my bedtime." and the dumbass responded with "it's like 7:00, are you a child?"

he then reverted to saying get the fuck out

Isen

queer prick

the most non-committal person to ever exist

went on a tangent about how "gender and sexuality constructs make people feel inclined to label themselves as something to fit into the boxes society sets up for them-"

blyke started fake snoring just to piss him off.

he's out of the closet only to his close friends like remi and blyke

his parents are conservative so he pretty much assumes that they wouldn't support him.

he isn't as upset about it as he was when he first figured it out, he guesses that's just how the world works, and he got the short end of a straw.

he's gay panic personified. he kinda thought arlo was hot after the fork incident, but it multiplied by like 100x when his growth spurt hit.

he's equal parts terrified and equal parts enamored.

same thing with cecile, there's no way he didn't show up to the press club on his first day, get absolutely berated by cecile for a shit article he showed her, and then came back for more the next day.

for some reason I always saw him as latino.

like he'd just randomly start cursing people (arlo) under his breath in spanish.

blyke will ask him for notes and he'll say okay just to write it all in spanish.

blyke: what the fuck is this dude. you fucking know I cant understand this shit

isen: sounds like a skill issue

#unordinary headcanons #unordinary seraphina #unordinary john #unordinary arlo #unordinary remi #unordinary blyke #unordinary isen #unordinary hcs #michixoxo #unordinary webtoon

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thatdruidgal · 12 days ago

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I lived in a haunted house when I was younger

and here’s some of what’s happened to my siblings and I

This house we lived in when I was ages 5-11 my parents had bought from my grandparents. It was built in 1910/1920 ish in East Coast, USA.

(I will preface this with I thought it was super normal everything that was happening — like everyone’s houses were all haunted — and then when we moved to the other side of the country I realized just how rare it is)

I heard mimicking voices

When I was seven, my mom called me from the upstairs bedroom, when I went to go see what she needed she was actually in the kitchen on the other side of the house, this hasn’t happened since

I convinced myself that this was the devil trying to trick me and play games so I scolded him that night before bed (I was a very particular child)

Me, my sister, and my brother saw multiple ghosts

A few times both my brother and sister saw the same young boy in a sailor uniform, he liked running across the halls and going into the guest room

Another few times, my sister and I saw a little girl who liked sitting at the top of our stairs

Once my sister woke up in the middle of the night crying because she saw “something like a snowman but not a snowman” trying to grab at her feet

There was always a creepy aura in certain rooms upstairs

Like my mom’s closet, the guest room, and the bathroom

This was the path the little boy ghosted liked to run though so maybe that was it

Surprisingly, the basement was not haunted

My cousin lived down there for a while with no issue, and once he left it became our “clubhouse room”

We were terrified of the basement, sure, but only as much as all kids are

Although my sister and I always had a weird paranoia that Dr. Facilier was going to grab us on the staircase

And I think once on the staircase down my sister saw a skeleton-like thing that disappeared

But the basement itself was fine

There was also a possible fairy ring in the backyard

Anyway that’s just some of what we experienced at that house

I’m sure there’s stuff I’m forgetting

Like I said earlier I thought it was totally normal to live in a haunted house and to feel such a strong connection to the spirits, and then we moved to the West Coast which feels empty and manufactured and like there’s no connections here at all, which is one reason I want to move back

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wen-kexing-apologist · 11 months ago

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7 Days Before Valentine Ep 6: Stray Thoughts

Sunshine

First of all, Sunshine, @respectthepetty and I are on the way, we've got bats with your name carved in them, so I'd advise you to start running.

Sunshine is one of the characters I hate the most this year, especially as a main character/protagonist. But I do think they are doing an incredible job with his characterization in that this is a man with no one in his life, he doesn't interact with his parents, he has no friends, and based off the way he behaves you can tell exactly why. This is the most impulsive, self-absorbed man I've seen in quite some time.

Sunshine reminds me of the guys in my life I've known who are deeply in need of help, but turn everything in to a joke and absolutely, willfully refuse to talk about anything real. Sunshine absolutely, willfully refuses to pause for long enough to actually think about how terrible of a person he is and how much he is harming those around him as a result of that.

I don't even think Sunshine knows what he wants. He had a chance in his previous wish to just completely try again, in the best possible scenario where marriage equality has been passed and Rain doesn't know who he is, Sunshine has a clean slate, but that isn't good enough, so he ruins society, and that doesn't work, so he hurts Rain in the most fundamentally cruel way by removing his best friend from existence. Sunshine is hurting Rain so that he can be in a relationship with Rain, which is all I need to know to decide that Rain and Sunshine better not fucking end up together in this.

The Flowers

gif by @save-the-data

Okay, I don't know why, but the way Jared talks about his flowers is making me this of this book I read years ago called Daughter of Smoke and Bone where the main character is like living in the real world but has connections to this other fantasy world, and she goes to her friend to make wishes (for example, she wishes that her hair would naturally grow blue) and she only learns way later that every time she makes a wish the wish is paid for with (I think?) someone's tooth. And she realized that people, creatures, etc had died or been tortured to have their teeth removed so that she could make silly little wishes.

I don't know that I want this, I don't know what it would do or what it would say, but for some reason I cannot get it out of my head that these flowers with names that Jared talks about so lovingly are actual people's souls. Especially after that one rose fucking screamed when Sunshine dropped it.

Metaphors

gif by @save-the-data

The back half of last episode and the first half of this episode were really heavy on the theme of conformity. And I don't think I have a lot of words for it right now, but it is feeling very much like metaphors for externalized/internalized homophobia and the closet. Like how the little girl draws this picture of herself in a pink dress and writes SOS, while walking neatly in a line, in the same boring uniform as all the rest of the kids. Like the vibrant ecclectically dressed property manager, also choosing to conform when she goes out in public because she doesn't want to be stared at. Like the busker getting hauled away/punished by the police for breaking free from society's order. Like Jared, bright, happily, bubbly, and (in my opinion) visibly queer man being terrified of being hauled away to be "corrected". And this is all stemming from snap decisions Sunshine is making out of petty bullshit with almost zero intelligent thought behind his wishes.

How I want this to end

gif by @pharawee

I think I want Sunshine to wish Q away from existence. Q's job is very clearly weighing on him, and he deserves rest. For fuck's sake, his clothing gets darker every episode Sunshine needs to accept that Rain is gone from him, that he fucked up and can't go back, and I do not want Rain getting together with someone that really seems to disregard the harm he is causing.

Anyway, I am really enjoying this show, but it is slow as fuck and if it wasn't filmed, written, and structured like a play I don't think I would have had as high a tolerance for it's pacing.

#7 days before valentine #7dbv

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ironychan · 10 months ago

Text

Scary Monsters

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @30spiders @sweatersexual @angrylittlesliceofpizza @writer652

Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet

Part 2/? - School for Monsters

Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family

Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans

Part 5/? - Hiding Places

Part 6/? - Nobody’s Fault

Part 7/? - Edge of Disaster

Part 8/? - Caged Monsters

Part 9/? - The Journey Home

Part 10/? - Portorosso

Harry didn't want to get back in the pram, so he scurried along the cobbled street with the rest of the group as they made their way downhill to the Pescheria and harbour. Luca and Alberto were busy telling their families about the monster world, but they did their best to keep an eye on their unwanted companion. This was not easy. Harry was like a curious puppy on its first walk, dashing back and forth across the street to take a closer look at everything.

“Mamma mia!” the woman who ran the laundromat exclaimed, dropping a pile of sheets as Harry dashed past her to look in the window. She stared for a moment with one hand over her heart, then took in the presence of Luca and Alberto and made herself calm down. “I'm sorry, young... man,” she managed. “You startled me.”

“I'm a monster,” said Harry smugly. “I'm supposed to be scary.”

“You certainly are,” she agreed, gathering up her sheets again – these had been clean, and were now covered with dust and would need to be done again. “Lovely to have met you. I'm sure I'll see you again.” She hurried back inside and shut the door.

A minute or so later, a man driving a truck loaded with boxes of fruit stopped to watch them go by. Harry grinned and waved to him. The man waved back halfheartedly, and waited until they rounded a corner to start his truck again.

“It looks like the humans here are scared of me,” Harry said suspiciously. “You said they wouldn't be.”

“They're not screaming and running away,” Alberto pointed out. “They're just not used to you yet.” Humans in Portorosso had mostly accepted the idea that just because something looked frightening didn't mean it necessarily was, but that didn't mean they liked scary things, even ordinary sea monsters.

“I think they're a little scared of monsters,” Harry said. “If they weren't, we wouldn't even have any doors to this town.”

“It depends on the monster,” said Luca. He glanced back over his shoulder at Rocco, who was still scowling into his gelato.

They arrived at the piazza. As usual there was a gaggle of children here, kicking an old volleyball in order to get around the local legislation that forbid playing football in the streets. Harry watched for a minute, bouncing up and down in excitement, then ran up to them.

“Can I play?” he asked eagerly.

The boy who had the ball snatched it off the ground and backed towards his friends, who gasped in horror.

Luca quickly reassured them. “It's okay! This is Harry. He's with us.”

Harry smiled hopefully.

One of the taller kids, a girl, spoke up. “You can't,” she said. “You've got... too many legs. Rules say only two is allowed.”

“Oh,” said Harry, though he looked at them suspiciously.

“Come on, Alberto lives over here,” Luca said, gesturing towards the Pescheria.

One of the teenagers in the town, a boy called Amerigo, had been hired to mind the shop while Massimo and Giulia were waiting at the train station. He smiled as the group approached, then his eyes widened when he saw Harry among them. Like the others, though, he reasoned that if this strange creature were with Luca and Alberto, then it must be all right, and that was enough to keep him from panicking.

“You've got a new friend,” he observed.

“This is the Pescheria,” Alberto told Harry. “Massimo catches fish, and Giulia and I sell them here or deliver them to people's houses.”

Harry examined a basket of bream on ice. “Weird fish,” he said. “They all look the same. Where are the ones with two heads?”

“We don't have any two-headed fish,” Luca said.

Harry moved on down the length of the shop, while Amerigo watched cautiously from behind the counter. “Oh, these look more normal,” said Harry, pointing at another creature. “What's that?”

“Those are squid,” Alberto said. “We cut them into rings and fry them. It's called calamari. Much nicer than eating them raw and getting ink all over you!”

“What about that?” Harry pointed to a black-and-white photograph of a group of people posing with an immensely long silvery fish, at least four metres, in the piazza.

“That's a regaleco,” said Giulia. “Papà caught it by accident. See, there's me.” She pointed to herself in the photo, a very small child of four or five standing by Massimo's side.

Harry continued to scuttle around the shop, examining the merchandise and decor, while people from the piazza began to gather in the doorway to stare at this new and bizarre arrival. Nobody said anything, as they did not want to be rude, but there was a general feeling of unease in the air. Luca and Alberto could feel it keenly, but Harry seemed oblivious, and upon noticing the crowd, he went up to greet them.

“Hi, everybody!” he said. “Wow, I didn't know there were so many humans. Kids' rooms only have maybe one or two at a time. Hi,” he said to one kid. “How are you doing?”

The girl gave him a sideways look and did not reply.

Not at all discouraged, Harry looked up at Old Tomasso, who was staring back down at him. “Hi! Do you need a son?” he asked.

“Ah, I'm a little old to be raising children,” Old Tomasso replied. “You might ask my daughter, Viola, though she and Giacomo already have a couple kids of their own...”

“Is she here?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Well, I'm starving!”s aid Alberto loudly. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and steered him towards the interior door. “Time for you to try some human food! We'll treat you to the most delicious thing our world has to offer – trenette al pesto!”

They dragged Harry up the stairs to the living spaces above the shop, leaving Amerigo to deal with the curious onlookers. There, Massimo and Alberto got to work on dinner, while Daniela, who'd been learning some human cooking, declared that she would make dessert. Harry had looked exciting as they climbed the narrow stairs, but the kitchen itself was obviously a disappointment to him. He looked around the cramped little room dubiously as people got to work.

“Do you live here?” he asked. “Or are you the servants?”

“This is our house,” Giulia said, insulted. “We don't have servants.”

Harry frowned. “Well, who cleans up after you cook?” he asked. “Who scrubs the floor and cleans the windows?”

“We do,” she told him. “We do everything ourselves.”

“Where do you sleep?” he asked next.

“Upstairs – there's one room for me and Alberto and one for Papà, and the bathroom.”

Harry examined her face, trying to figure out if she were joking.

“Nobody has servants,” Giulia added. “That's from, I don't know, medieval times.”

“Farmhands might count as servants,” Lorenzo Paguro mused. “Like those two boys Atinnia Trota has working at her place since her husband died.”

“Are all humans this poor?” asked Harry. “Where are the normal people?”

“We're not poor!” Giulia huffed. “This is normal! If you want rich people, the richest ones in town are the Visconti family, and even they don't have servants. They've got some employees who work in their vineyards, but that's not the same. Signora Visconti does her own cooking.”

Harry sat down on the bench below the stairs, where he watched thoughtfully as everybody else pitched in to get food on the table. He appeared to be re-thinking this whole expedition, as if he didn't want a new family if that were necessarily going to come with work. Luca kind of hoped that was true. Harry's father wasn't very nice, but Harry belonged in his own world and they needed to get him back there as fast as they could.

There was no room for so many people to sit down around the tiny kitchen table, so they headed out to the yard to eat as the sun set and the first stars began to come out. Daniela and Luca set the table, and Massimo brought out the extra-large pot that could hold enough pasta for everybody. Seeing all this made Luca so happy to be home he nearly cried – it reminded him of the evening after the race last year, when the sea monsters had first been welcomed to Portorosso. Even Alberto was getting a bit misty-eyed, although he'd never admit it. The two boys dug into their favourite dish with gusto.

Harry didn't look so excited about it. He tried the trenette al pesto, but just shrugged.

“We need to figure out how we're going to get back into the monster world,” Luca announced. That was a problem he wasn't sure how to solve. Any door they might go through was just going to lead into the factory, and that was the last place they wanted to arrive. He frowned, chewing on a mouthful as he considered it. “What happens to the doors when the kids get too old to be scared anymore?”

“They go to storage,” said Harry. “They check them out every couple of years, but you can't open them from this end. You need the equipment.”

“So we'll have to find somebody else who's got a monster and wait there... but then when we get into the monster world they'll grab us right away,” said Luca. That wouldn't work at all. Mr. Waternoose might even have a special watch on doors from Liguria in case they tried to come back.

“Aren't there any doors anywhere else?” asked Alberto. “I mean... there's other scare companies, right?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, mouth full. “And there's a few at universities and stuff for research purposes, but they don't lead to kids' rooms.”

That sounded promising. Luca seized on it. “What doors are those? How do you find them?”

“I dunno, they're closet doors,” said Harry.

“There are other kinds of closets besides bedroom ones,” Helena observed thoughtfully. “There's linen closets, storage closets, broom closets...”

“Signora Marsigliese has a storage closet in her grocery store,” Giulia offered. “It's where she keeps stuff when there's no room for it on the shelves yet.”

“Oh, they won't use one in a shop,” said Harry, “especially if somebody lives there. The researchers don't actually want to meet any humans. They just want to find ways to stabilize the link, make it more energy-efficient, improve door matching, that kind of thing.”

“So nowhere there's people at night,” said Luca. “Where's got a closet that's closed at night?”

“Somewhere like a museum?” asked Helena.

“There's no museums in Portorosso,” said Alberto.

“No, but they've got lots of them in Genova,” said Giulia. “There's the Museum of Natural History, and the Maritime Museum, and Mamma does work sometimes at the Palazzo Spinola, which is going to be a museum someday but they have to restore it first because it got damaged during the war.”

“That's the one I'm thinking of,” Helena said. “There's one of the former bedrooms where I've helped touch up the frescoes, and I've never seen anything myself but there people working there full-time who swear it's haunted. They hear footsteps and see lights in the middle of the night.”

Luca did not believe in ghosts, but if closet monsters were a real thing then they might well be the explanation. “That's gotta be it!” he exclaimed. “There's a closet in there, right?”

“There's one where they keep paint and tools,” Helena agreed. “It's got a big sign on it that says solo personale autorizzato.”

“A lot of the ones the researchers use have signs like that,” Harry confirmed.

“Perfect!” Luca grinned. “So we just have to go back to Genova!”

“Now wait a moment, young man,” said Daniela. “I'm not sure I like the idea of you going back there, no matter how you get in. This monster world is obviously dangerous. Back me up, Lorenzo,” she said to her husband.

Lorenzo nodded. “Your mother is right, Luca. This really isn't your problem.”

“Yes, it is!” Luca insisted. “Louise and the others need our help. We're the ones who got them in trouble in the first place. Right, Alberto?”

“Right!” said Alberto through a mouthful of pasta.

“Well, you certainly can't go by yourselves,” Daniela said. “You have to at least take a grownup with you.”

“Oh, that's a good idea,” Giulia put in. “Like I said, Luca, your Mom's scary. The monsters will respect her.”

It was hard to say whether Daniela had really meant herself when she'd said a grownup, but that didn't seem to have been the part of the suggestion that startled her. “I'm not that scary!”

“Yes, you are,” chorused Alberto and Luca.

“No, you're not,” Harry scoffed.

“You haven't seen her get mad,” Luca told him.

Feeling like they had at least an approximation of a plan made Luca feel much better, and although he wouldn't have said it he was very reassured by the idea of taking his mother along. They wouldn't feel nearly so adrift and terrified in that strange world if they had a proper grownup with them.

After supper it was time for the kids to get into their pyjamas. Harry didn't have any with him, and nobody else's would have fit him, so he was given one of Massimo's extra shirts. It was as huge and awkward on him as Louise's monster-sized nightshirts had been on Alberto and Luca, but he didn't seem to mind.

The person who did mind was Giulia. Although she was too polite to say so, she was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of Harry sleeping in her room, so the boys offered to also sleep over so it wouldn't just be the two of them. Luca had hoped this would avoid any arguments. It did not.

“You don't like me,” said Harry accusingly, as they rolled out sleeping bags on the floor.

“No, you're fine,” said Giulia, without looking at him.

“Alberto and Luca said you'd be cool.”

“I am cool,” Giulia insisted, annoyed. “It's just that I haven't known you very long yet.”

Harry wasn't at all impressed. “You're scared of me. They said you'd be fine, but you're scared of monsters. I bet you're scared of them, too. Everybody here is, even if they try to be nice about it.” He smiled to himself. “I bet I could be in charge of this place in no time.”

“Giulia isn't scared of anything,” Luca said loyally.

“Sure,” Harry said, “so why doesn't she have a closet, then?”

“Because there isn't room for one,” said Giulia. “This house is very small.”

“I noticed.”

“And I don't need one anyway,” she added. “I keep all my stuff on my shelves, and my clothes go in the drawers. My school stuff mostly stays at Mamma's house in Genova, because that's where I use it.”

Harry considered that as he built a little nest for himself out of blankets. “What do human kids learn at school? Do you learn about monsters?”

“No,” said Luca, “because humans mostly don't believe in monsters, not even sea monsters like us. Nobody knows about us except the people in Portorosso and some of the ones at school.”

“And a lot of them think it's a joke,” Giulia added. “I didn't even believe in sea monsters until I met Luca and Alberto, and I didn't believe in closet monsters until I met you today.”

Harry frowned. “See, that's what Dad says – he says humans shouldn't know about us, because what you don't know is always scarier than what you do.”

“That's probably true,” Giulia observed. “Now that I know about sea monsters, they're not scary at all.” She looked at Alberto and grinned. “In fact, Alberto is the least scary monster I've ever met.”

Alberto stuck his tongue out at her.

“I think he's scarier than I am,” Luca said.

“Now, I think if humans knew about us, they'd be even more scared,” Harry went on, “because then they'd know we could be lurking there, waiting to jump out at any moment.”

“Or we'd just take the doors off all our closets,” said Giulia.

That clearly hadn't occurred to Harry. He blinked, then scowled, annoyed at being outwitted.

Harry couldn't lie down flat like a human or a sea monster, so while the other kids bedded down, he nestled into the pile of blankets he'd built, looking rather like an egg in an Easter basket. Everybody else began to drift off, only to discover that Harry snored. It wasn't loud, but it was a whistling sort of noise that was impossible to ignore. Giulia had to stuff her head under her pillow in order to block it out.

Halfway through the night, Giulia woke up again, as she sometimes did, and rolled over to get more comfortable – whereupon she found herself looking into multiple glowing eyes that blinked in unison. She inhaled sharply and sat up, clutching at the covers.

Harry started laughing. “Boo!” he said.

“Harry!” groaned Luca from his bed on the floor.

“I knew it! I knew you were scared of me!” Harry cackled.

“It's the middle of the night,” Alberto scolded. “Go back to sleep!”

Harry continued to giggle to himself as he settled down in his little nest again. Luca gave him a disapproving frown and looked at Alberto, who wasn't going to stop at frowning and had gone all the way to a nasty scowl. The two silently agreed that the first thing they were going to do when that haunted closet at the museum opened was to shove Harry in, and after that they wouldn't take any more help from him.

In the morning, Giulia got up first, and noticed that Harry was still asleep. She crept over and knelt next to him, leaning in so her nose was only an inch from his face. It took him a moment to realize she was there, and then a couple of his eyes flickered open, and he screamed like Signora Brugnole did when she saw a mouse.

“Now who's scared?” asked Giulia, and got up to go brush her teeth while Harry sat there panting.

Luca and Alberto had already been half awake, but were jolted to full alertness by Harry's cry. They yawned and rubbed their eyes and looked at him, then both lay down and pretended to go back to sleep. He'd deserved that.

Helena had crespelle ready when they came downstairs for breakfast. They were thinner than Louise's pancakes but were served with ricotta and nutella, and she'd also sliced some bananas to put on top. The kids sat down and dug in, and Massimo came to sit with them and sip his espresso.

“Giulietta,” he said, as his daughter put bananas on her breakfast. “Your mother and I have been talking about money.”

“Uh-huh,” Giulia said, then whacked Alberto's wrist with her butter knife as he reached across the table. “How about pass the nutella?” she suggested to him, as he shook the stinging joint.

Harry, meanwhile, looked down at his own plate dubiously. “Is this it?” he asked.

“What more did you want?” asked Giulia. She passed the nutella and knife to Alberto, and gave him a plate for Luca.

“How about bacon?” asked Harry. “Or eggs? Or waffles? It's just tiny pancakes with cheese, and some coffee?”

“You don't want to eat heavily first thing in the morning,” said Helena firmly. “It's not good for your stomach.” She poured her espresso into milk, and added a little bit of cocoa. “As we were saying, kids, I didn't think we'd all be heading back to Genova. I have enough money to pay for my own ticket, but not for the boys or Signora Paguro.”

That wasn't what any of the kids had expected to hear, least of all Harry. “How can you not have money for train tickets?” he asked. “They cost nothing.”

“Obviously they cost something,” Giulia told him, “if they were free we wouldn't be worried about it.”

Luca was not discouraged. “We'll have to earn the money, then,” he said.

“How?” asked Massimo. “I cannot hire all three of you for extra besides your pocket money.”

“I've got some I've saved,” said Alberto. “And we can do odd jobs around the town. I've done that before!” Sometimes he'd even managed not to break anything.

“So have I,” Giulia agreed.

“And I can help,” said Luca.

“How much money will we need for the tickets?” Giulia asked her mother.

Helena did a brief bit of math for one adult and three youths, assuming Harry would go in the pram again. The figure she came up with wasn't too daunting, so after they were done eating, the kids got dressed and set out to do some work.

“I'm gonna head up the hill to where the older people live, and ask if they need anything done in their gardens,” Alberto announced. They almost always did, and while pulling weeds and turning over soil were tedious, there were very few ways he'd found to do them wrong.

“I'll do deliveries, and keep the tips,” Giulia said.

“I'll go with Alberto,” Luca said.

“Great!” Alberto nodded. “You can do your big eyes thing, and they'll pay us extra.”

“How about me?” Harry asked, scuttling out into the yard to join them. Helena had decided to wash his little sailor suit while the kids were out, but that left the problem of what he would wear in the mean time. Massimo had gone through some old things and found a shirt he'd worn as a child and had kept to use as rags someday. It was a bit too big on Harry and had to be pinned so he wouldn't step on the hem, but it was clean.

“You want to help earn money?” Alberto asked, a bit suspicious. Harry clearly wasn't interested in work – he seemed to think money was just something people had in infinite quantities.

“No,” said Harry. “I need to find a new Dad, remember? Where are these Visconti people you mentioned?” He had evidently decided that he wanted not just a new family, but a new family with money.

“They live over the hill in the vineyards,” said Giulia. She checked her list of deliveries. “They've ordered some naselli... they must be having visitors because it's quite a few. Signor Visconti likes to schmooze people who are thinking about buying his wine.”

“I'll go with you, then,” Harry decided.

Giulia tried not to groan. “All right,” she said, “but you have to help. Do what I tell you to do, and don't wander off, you got it?”

“You're not my mother,” Harry told her.

“Do you want to stay at our house, or not?” Giulia asked. “Because if you do, you have to do what I say, got it?”

Harry snorted. “Fine.”

The boys headed up the hill to find some work to do, and Giulia attached the cart to her bike while Harry, under her direction, brought out boxes of ice and fish for delivery. He made a face as he handed her the first one.

“It smells,” he said.

“It's fish,” she told him. “Don't fish smell in your world?”

“I dunno, I've only seen them when they're already cooked,” Harry said. “And the ones in the pond at the zoo, that you can feed. Those don't smell.”

“They're not dead,” Giulia said. She climbed onto the bicycle. “Keep up, I'm not slowing down for you.”

She wasn't training for the race yet, not so early in the summer, so despite her words Giulia didn't hurry as she cycled up the hill to the first of her day's deliveries. Harry scuttled after her, looking around at the town and the people as they went. His many legs seemed able to carry him quite quickly, so she sped up a little.

Their first stop was the home of Signora Tarasco, where Giulia knocked on the door with a box of fish in her hands. The door opened, and Giulia proudly held out her merchandise. “Sardines, as ordered!” she announced. “Fresh from Papà's nets!”

“Ah, thank you, Giulia,” Signora Tarasco said. She took the box from Giulia, and then her eyes went to the waiting bicycle and cart, and she saw Harry standing next to it. For a split-second she just blinked at him, trying to figure out what she was seeing, then she screamed. She almost dropped the box, but grabbed it at the last moment, only for it to tip and pour dead sardines all over herself. Giulia dived to catch the fish, but could not grab them all, and ended up with two in her hand while the rest splattered on the pavement.

“Oh, my goodness!” the woman exclaimed, with a nervous giggle as she clutched the now-empty box. “You gave me a start! Wha... um... is that another of your friends, Giulia?”

“That's Harry,” said Giulia, picking herself up. “He's the monster from Rocco Marsigliese's closet.”

“No, the monster from Rocco's closet used to work for my Dad, but he fired her,” Harry corrected. “But he's a jerk, so now I'm looking for a new Dad, like Alberto.

“I saved these,” Giulia added, offering the fish she'd managed to grab.

“Oh... oh yes.” Signora Tarasco reached out and took them, her eyes locked on Harry. “I just... oh, dear, I ruined the rest of them. Let me... let me pay you for those.” She fumbled for her coin purse.

“You don't have to do that,” said Giulia, looking at the rest of the order, scattered on the cobblestones.

“No, no, it's only fair,” Signora Tarasco said distractedly. She gave Giulia a handful of coins without bothering to look at or count them. “Keep the change, dear,” she added, and shut the door, her only objective being to put something between herself and Harry as quickly as possible.

Giulia scowled and shoved the coins in her pocket. “Okay,” she told Harry, “you're going to have to stay behind the cart while people answer doors.”

“Luca and Alberto said the humans here would be fine,” Harry said, arms folded. “I'm starting to think they lied to me.”

“People will be fine once they get to know you,” Giulia told him. “Until then, you're scaring them. You're never gonna find a new family like that.”

Harry just sniffed. Evidently he thought if the humans were scared, that was their own fault.

They moved on to the next house. Harry would stay back with the cart while Giulia handed over the deliveries, but he refused to hide behind it. In fact, he seemed quite interested in people's reactions to him. Giulia explained who and what he was over and over, and people were polite but clearly uncomfortable with his presence. At least he didn't go around asking people if they wanted a child, like Luca and Alberto said he'd done in Genova, but she suspect that was merely because he'd already decided who his first choice was. If so, he was destined for bitter disappointment.

Giulia saved the Visconti family's fish for last, partly because it was furthest from home, and partly because she dreaded what Harry might do. She was sure it would be embarrassing at best and catastrophic at worse.

Harry himself perked up considerably when he realized there was only one box left. “Are we going to the Visconti house now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Giulia. “Although... how would you feel about having an older brother?” Maybe she could discourage him in advance.

“An older brother?” he asked.

“Yeah, they already have a son,” Giulia said.

Harry thought about that a little. “What is he like?”

“He's the biggest jerk in the world,” said Giulia. “Even worse than your Dad, I'm sure. He kept this town under his evil empire of injustice for years.”

“He did? How?” Harry wanted to know.

“Because everybody was scared of him!” Giulia said. “You never knew when he was going to show up and make your life miserable, just because he could! We finally kicked his butt last summer, and nobody takes him seriously anymore.”

They crested the hill and coasted back down it into the valley, where the vineyards were spread out around the big house where the Visconti family lived and ran their business. The villa had originally been built in the 18th century by their wealthy ancestors, with yellow walls and big cypress trees out front. It was now in rather poor repair, with the plaster flaking and cracks in the wall from the earthquake that had happened before Giulia was born, but still imposing. Harry grinned when he saw it, and would have gone right up the double staircase leading to the front door, but Giulia shook her head.

“Deliveries go around the back,” she said.

She led the way around the gravel path to the back garden, where the kitchens were. Harry frowned.

“This looks like a servants' entrance,” he said.

“It used to be,” Giulia said, “but I told you, nobody has servants anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's snooty. It's like you're saying you're better than anyone else. The Viscontis don't need servants – they do that anyway.”

They passed the garage. Giulia had been hoping Ercole wouldn't be there, just because she didn't want to see him, but he was, checking the air pressure on his Vespa's tyres. He looked up as she passed, then did a double-take.

“Porca paletta! What is that?”

“Is that him?” Harry asked excitedly. “Their son?”

“Yes. Ignore him,” Giulia instructed.

But Harry scuttled right into the open garage. Ercole crab-walked backwards, then scrambled to his feet as if to flee. If that were his intention, he changed his mind when Harry got too close to his precious Vespa. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Don't touch that!”

“Are you the one who used to have the whole town under an evil empire?” Harry asked eagerly.

Ercole knew exactly where he'd heard that. “For your information,” he said, moving his Vespa aside so that it wasn't too close to this odd little creature. “People in this town used to love me until those sea monsters came along. Now it's sea monster this and sea monster that, and nobody has time for real people anymore.” He peered suspiciously at his visitor. “What are you?”

“Aren't you scared of me?” Harry asked.

“You can't be scary if you hang out with Spewlia,” Ercole replied. “You're just a little bug. You should mind you don't get squashed like one.”

Giulia rolled her eyes, but on the whole this wasn't as bad as she'd feared. She knocked on the kitchen door. “Signora Visconti!” she called out. “I've got your fish!”

#fanfic #pixar luca #luca 2021 #monsters inc #monsters university #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo #ercole visconti #scary monsters

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