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perfectlyvalid49 · 7 months

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On being Jewish, and traumatized (It’s been 5 months and I want to talk):

Judaism is a joyous religion. So much of our daily practice is to focus us on the things that are good. I know that there’s a joke that all our holidays can be summed up as “they tried to kill us. We survived – let’s eat!”, and you might think that holidays focused on attempts at killing us might be somber, but they’re really not. Most are celebrated in the sense of, “we’re still here, let’s have a party!” When I think about practicing Judaism, the things I think about make me happy.

But I think a lot of non-Jews don’t necessarily see Judaism the same way. I think in part it’s because we do like to kvetch, but I think a lot of it is because from the outside it’s harder to see the joy, and very easy to see the long history of suffering that has been enacted on the Jewish people. From the inside, it’s very much, “we’re still here, let’s party” and from the outside it’s, “how many times have they tried to kill you? Why are you celebrating? They tried to KILL YOU!”

And I want to start with that because a lot of the rest of this is going to be negative. And I don’t want people to read it and wonder why I still want to be Jewish. I want to be Jewish because it makes me happy. My problem isn’t with being Jewish, it’s with how Jews are treated.

What I really wanted to write about is being Jewish and the trauma that’s involved with that right now.

First, I want to talk about Israeli Jews. I can’t say much here because I’m not Israeli, nor do I have any close friends or family that are Israeli. But if I’m going to be talking about the trauma Jews are experiencing right now, I can’t not mention the fact that Israeli Jews (and Israelis that aren’t Jewish as well, but that’s not my focus here) are dealing with massive amounts of it right now. It’s a tiny country – virtually everyone has a friend or family member that was killed or kidnapped, or knows someone who does. Thousands of rockets have been fired at Israel in the last few months – think about the fact that the Iron Dome exists and why it needs to. Terror attacks are ongoing; I feel like there’s been at least one every week since October. Thousands of people are displaced from their homes, either because of the rocket fire, or because their homes and communities were physically destroyed in the largest pogrom in recent history – the deadliest single day for Jews since the Holocaust ended. If that’s not trauma inducing, I don’t know what is.

And there is, of course, the generational trauma. And I think Jewish generational trauma is interesting because it’s so layered. Because it’s not just the result of one trauma passed down through the generations. Every 50-100 years, antisemitism intensifies, and so very frequently the people experiencing a traumatic event were already suffering from the generational trauma that their grandparents or great grandparents lived through. And those elders were holding the generational trauma from the time before that. And so on.

And because it happens so regularly, there’s always someone in the community that remembers the last time. We are never allowed the luxury of imagining that we are safe. We know what happened before, and we know that it happened again and again and again. And so we know that it only makes sense to assume it will happen in the future. The trauma response is valid. I live in America because my great grandparents lived in Russia and they knew when it was time to get the hell out in the 1900s. And the reason they knew that is because their grandparents remembered the results of the blood libels in the 1850s. How can we heal when the scar tissue keeps us safe?

I look around now and wonder if we’ll need to run. We have a plan. I repeat, my family has a plan for what to do if we need to flee the country due to religious persecution. How can that possibly be normal? And yet, all the Jewish families I know have similar plans. It is normal if you’re Jewish. Every once in a while I see someone who isn’t Jewish talk about making plans to leave because they’re LGBTQ or some other minority and the question always seems to be, “should I make a plan?” It astounds me every time. The Jewish answer is that you need to have a plan and the only question is, “when should I act?” Sometimes our Jewish friends discuss it at play dates. Where will you go? What are the triggers to leave? No one wants to go any earlier then they have to. Everyone knows what the price of holding off too long might be.

I want to keep my children safe. When do I induct them into the club? When do I let my sweet, innocent kids know that some people will hate them for being Jewish? When do I teach them the skills my parents and grandparents taught me? How to pass as white, how to pass as Christian, knowing when to keep your mouth shut about what you believe. When do I tell them about the Holocaust and teach them the game “would this person hide me?” How hard do I have to work to remind them that while you want to believe that a person would hide you, statistically, most people you know would not have? Who is this more traumatic for? Them, to learn that there is hatred in the world and it is directed at them, or me, to have to drive some of the innocence out of my own children’s eyes in order to make sure they are prepared to meet the reality of the world?

And the reality of the world is that it is FULL of antisemitism. There’s a lot of…I guess I’d call it mild antisemitism that’s always present that you just kinda learn to ignore. It’s the sort of stuff that non-Jews might not even recognize as antisemitic until you explain it to them, just little micro-aggressions that you do your best to ignore because you know that the people doing it don’t necessarily mean it, it’s just the culture we live in. It can still hurt though. I like to compare it to a bruise: you can mostly ignore it, but every once in a while something (more blatant antisemitism) will put a bit to much pressure on it and you remember that you were already hurting this whole time.

On top of the background antisemitism, there’s more intense stuff. And usually the most intense, mask off antisemitism comes from the right. This makes sense, in that a lot of right politics are essentially about hating the “other” and what are Jews if not Western civilizations oldest type of “other”? On the one hand, I’ve always been fortunate enough to live in relatively liberal areas so this sort of antisemitism has felt far away and impersonal – they hate everybody, and I’m just part of everybody. On the other hand, until recently I’ve always considered this the most dangerous source of antisemitism. This is the antisemitism that leads to hate crimes, that leads to synagogue shootings. This is the reason why my synagogue is built so that there is a long driveway before you can even see the building, and that driveway is filled with police on the high holidays. This is the reason why my husband and I were scared to hang a mezuzah in our first apartment (and second, and third). For a long time, this was the antisemitism that made me afraid.

But the left has a problem with antisemitism too. And it has always been there. Where the right hates the “other”, the left hates the “privileged/elite/oppressors.” It’s the exact same thing, just dressed up with different words. They all mean “other” and “other” means “Jew.” It hurts more coming from the left though. A lot of Jewish philosophy leans left. A lot of Jews lean left. So when the left decides to hate us, it isn’t a random stranger, it’s a friend, and it feels like a betrayal.

One of the people I follow works for Yad Vashem, and a few weeks ago she mentioned a video they have with testimonies from people who came to Israel after Kristallnacht, with an unofficial title of “The blow came from within.” The idea is that to non-German Jews, the Holocaust was something done by strangers. It was still terrible, but it is easier to bear the hate of a stranger – it’s not personal. But to German Jews, the Holocaust was a betrayal. It wasn’t done by strangers, it was done by coworkers, and neighbors and people they thought were friends. It was done by people who knew them, and still looked at them and said, “less than human.” And because of this sense of betrayal, German survivors, or Germans who managed to get out before they got rounded up, had a very different experience than other Holocaust victims.

And I feel like a lot of left leaning Jews are having a similar experience now. People that we’ve marched with or organized with, or even just mutuals that we’ve thought of as friends are now going on about how Jews are evil. They repeat antisemitic talking points from the Nazis and from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and when we point out that those ideas have only led to Jewish death in the past they don’t care. And if someone you thought of as a friend thinks of you this way, what do you think a stranger might think? Might do?

The Jews are fucking terrified. I’ve seen a post going around that basically wonders if this was what it was like for our ancestors – when things got bad enough to see what was coming but before it was too late to run? And we can see what’s coming. History tells us that they way people are talking and acting only leads to one place. I’m a millennial – when I was a kid the grandparents at my synagogue made sure the kids knew – this is what it looked like before, this is what you need to watch out for, this is when you need to run. I wonder where to run to. It feels like nowhere is safe.

I feel like I’ve been lucky in all this. I don’t live in Israel. I have family and acquaintances who do, but no one I’m particularly close to. Everyone I know in real life has either been sane or at least silent about all of this (the internet has been significantly worse, but when it comes to hate, the internet is always worse). I live in a relatively liberal area – there’s always been antisemitism around anyway, but it’s mostly just been swastikas on flyers, or people advocating for BDS, not anything that’s made me actually worry for my safety. But in the last 5 months there have been bomb threats at my synagogue, and just last week a kid got beat up for being Jewish at our local high school. He doesn’t want to report it. He’s worried it will make it worse.

I bought a Magen David to wear in November. At the time it seemed like the best way to fight antisemitism was to be visibly Jewish, to show that we’re just normal people like everyone else. Plus, I figured that if me being Jewish was going to be a problem for someone, then I would make it a problem right away and not waste time. I’ve worn it almost constantly since, but the one time I took it off was when I burnt my finger in December and had to go to urgent care. I didn’t think about it too much when I did it, but I thought about it for a long time after – I didn’t feel good about having made that choice.

The conclusion I came to is that the training that my elders had been so careful to instill in me kicked in. I was hurt, and scared, and the voice inside my head that sounds like my grandmother said, “don’t give them a reason to be bad to you. Fight when you’re well, but for now – survive.” It still felt cowardly, but it was also a connection to my ancestors who heeded the same voice well enough to survive. And it enrages me that that voice has been necessary in the past. And it enrages me that things are bad enough now that my instinct is that I need to hide who I am to receive appropriate medical care.

I wish I had some sort of final thought to tie this all together other than, “this sucks and I hate it,” but I really don’t. I could call for people to examine their antisemitic biases, but I’m not foolish enough to think that this will reach the people who need to do so. I could wish for a future where everything I’ve talked about here exists only in history books, and the Jewish experience is no longer tied to feeling this pain, but that’s basically wishing for the moshiach, and I’m not going to hold my breath.

I guess I’ll end it with the thought that through all of this hate and pain and fear, we’re still here. And we’re still joyful as well. As much as so many people have tried over literally THOUSANDS of years to eradicate us, I’m still here, I’m still Jewish, and being Jewish still makes me happy.

Am Yisrael Chai.

#antisemitism #judaism #venting #jumblr #long post #I'm not kidding it's like 2300 words #and it's a rambling mess #but i needed to vent #so help me god #if you show up in the notes and are being antisemitic I WILL find you and I WILL bite you

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timetravellingkitty · 8 months

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KASHMIR MASTERLIST

Background

History of Kashmir from 250 BC to 1947 [to understand Kashmir's multi religious history and how we got to 1947]

Broad timeline of events from 1947 to the abrogation of Article 370 of the Indian Constitution in 2019 (BBC) [yes, BBC. hang on just this once]

Human Rights Watch report based on a visit to Indian controlled Kashmir in 1998 [has a summary, background, human rights abuses and recommendations]

Another concise summary of the issue

Sites to check out

Kashmir Action - news and readings

The Kashmiriyat - independent news site about ongoings in Kashmir

FreePressKashmir - same thing as previous

Kashmir Law and Justice Project - analysis of international law as it applies to Kashmir

Stand with Kashmir - awareness, run by diaspora Kashmiris (both Pandit and Muslim)

These two for more readings and resources on Kashmir: note that the petitions and donation links are from 2019 and also has explainers on the background (x) (x)

To read

Do You Remember Kunan Poshpora? - about women in the Kashmiri resistance movement and the 1991 mass rape of Kashmiri women in the twin villages of Kunan and Poshpora by Indian armed forces

Until My Freedom Has Come: The New Intifada in Kashmir - a compliation of writings about the lives of Kashmiris under Indian domination

Colonizing Kashmir: State Building under Indian Occupation - how Kashmir was made "integral" to the Indian state and examines state-building policies (excerpt)

Resisting Occupation in Kashmir - about the social and legal dimensions of India's occupation

On India's scapegoating of Kashmiri Pandits, both by Kashmiri Pandits (x) (x)

Of Gardens and Graves - translations of Kashmiri poems

Social media

kashiirkoor

museumofkashmir

kashmirpopart

posh_baahar

readingkashmir

standwithkashmir and their backup account standwithkashmir2 (main account is banned in India wonder why)

kashmirlawjustice

kashmirawareness

jammugenocide (awareness about the 1947 genocide abetted by Maharaja Hari Singh and the RSS)

To watch

Jashn-e-Azadi: How We Celebrate Freedom parts 1 and 2 - a documentary about the Kashmiri freedom struggle (filmed by a Kashmiri Pandit)

Paradise Lost - BBC documentary about how India and Pakistan's dispute over the valley has affected the people

Kashmir - Valley of Tears - the exhaustion with the conflict in the post nineties

In the Shade of Fallen Chinar - art as a form of Kashmiri resistance

Human rights violations (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Land theft and dispossession (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

A note: I know annoying Desis are going to see this and go "Oh but Kashmir is Pakistan's because-" and "Kashmir is an integral part of India because-". I must make my stance clear: Kashmir belongs to the Kashmiris, the natives, no matter what religion they belong to. Neither Pakistan nor India get to decide the matter of Kashmiri sovereignty. The reasons given by both parties as to why Kashmir should be a part of either nation are bullshit. The United Nations itself recognises Kashmir as a disputed region, so I will not entertain dumbfuckery. I highly encourage fellow Indians especially to take the time to go through and properly understand the violence the government enacts on Kashmiris. I've also included links to learn more about Kashmiri culture because really, what do the rest of us know about it? Culturally and linguistically Kashmir differs so much from the rest of India and Pakistan (also the amount of fetishization of Kashmiri women...yikes). This is not just a bilateral issue between these two nations over land, this actually affects the people of Kashmir. And if you're still here, thank you for reading

#this took a month of my life i'm not even kidding #ANYWAYS. hi. here you go.#kashmir #india #resources #important #history

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hurthermore · 6 months

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Hi,dear!i really really love your writings like a lot! Can i maybe request a human alastor x reader who's a sister in a church,but also a killer like him?if that's okay for sure! have a good day/night:)

»»------► 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚞𝚗

Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙽𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warnings: 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍

A/N: 𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙺𝙺 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞! 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 >.< 𝙰𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚗𝚒𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍!

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!

Ever since Alastor was a child, his mother made it compulsory for him to attend mass every sunday, which he always did with a fabricated smile on his face; just to make his mother happy. It was a boring occurrence that Alastor found redundant; he was partial to the practice of voodoo, and therefore preferred not to partake in the catholic religion, especially once he started to grow into his adult years.

Even when Alastor began his career in the broadcasting profession, and moved out of his family home, his mother demanded that he was still to attend mass with her; she didn’t care if they rota’d him in for sunday, he was to decline performing his broadcasts that morning of the week, or he’d have his ear shouted off. And Alastor was, and never had been the type of man to let his beloved mother down, even if it were something as mundane as church. He’d attend for her.

On one particular attendance, he noticed there was one more nun designated among the monastics of the church. She stuck out like a sore thumb due to the almost sinister way her smile etched upwards on the beautiful features of her face. He’d only seen that type of smile on one other person; himself. And he’d be a fool not to be intrigued by it.

He found himself thinking more and more about the secrets hidden behind that stretching smile as the weeks passed by, his glances against her only intensified the more he attended church. He often contemplated approaching her, but she never left the stage where the pastor spoke passages from the bible, and once the sermons ended, she was always gone in the blink of an eye.

It became an agitating occurrence as the want to converse with her, to discover what type of person she was seemed almost impossible. But eventually, he finally found a chance to finally introduce himself when the church hosted a function for the annual celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. as she stood among the attendees, handing out beverages; still attiring the same smile she always did.

Yet before he could approach her, his mother dragged him in another direction, telling him he had to greet the pastor before he dabbled in the crowd. So he obeyed, slightly irritated, but complied with his mother’s demands. As he greeted and made small talk with the Pastor, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of nuns gossiping behind him.

“Why has the Pastor put her on the beverage stand?��

“A menace to society that girl, I can’t believe he’d allow her to prattle among the votaries.”

“I know, especially with the rumours about her burning her last church down too; I swear he’s going to get us all killed.”

Alastor couldn’t help how his eyebrows raised in interest as he focused on the tittle-tattle behind him. It made him wonder; was this girl like him? Did she also have the same refined tastes for murder? With how the only reported murders in New Orleans being his own, he was doubtful of the prospect.

As he continued to attempt to approach the woman throughout the event, person after person kept interrupting his goal. His sense of murder was becoming heightened. People were always vermin, always in the way. And by the time he finally advanced toward the place he last saw her, she had been replaced with another nun. Turning his head in different directions, he attempted to find her among the crowd; but she was nowhere to be seen. Most likely confined to the bedding area of the church.

It was as if God himself was preventing him from acquainting her.

Grunting to himself, he made his way toward his mother, informing her that he was going to get some fresh air before he made his way outside. Plucking a cigarette from his pocket, he lit it up with a match as he rested his back against the outer walls of the church.

He was pissed to say the least; furious how the numerous sacks of living meat kept disturbing his plans.

All he wanted was to acquaint himself with that god forsaken beautiful smile.

As a puff of smoke vacated his lips, he perched as he heard rustling from the heavily wooded area to his right; eerily similar to how a caught rabbit would struggle as it attempted to leave the confines of its new found prison. Squinting his eyes, Alastor began to make his way into the wooded area to investigate the noise.

The further he moved through the forage and trunks of trees, the louder the rustling became; he swore he could start to hear grunts and strangled coughs. Pausing as he finally came across a sight to behold, his eyes landed on the nun that had been consuming his mind for months now. Her robes and apostolnik were covered in splatters of dark red blood as another nun laid underneath her; her neck sliced almost in half, clearly done moments before he had arrived due to the small amount of blood that squirted from her open neck; saturating the two women in red.

As he looked at the face of the corpse, he noticed it was one of the nuns from earlier that had whispered tales of the subject of his thoughts. Offering a smile, he made his presence known to the murderous nun who had caught his attention long before; taking a heavier step than usual as a way to alert her.

Her face fully faced him, and his smile only stretched in glee as he witnessed her blood soaked face attire that same smile she always did. If she was interesting before, then she was absolutely fascinating now. As the nun gazed at him, she didn’t attempt to run or attack him, only watching his movements.

“Can I help you?”

That voice. Alastor couldn’t help but adore how angelic her tone was; a wolf dressed in sheep's clothing. Just like him. Taking step after step toward her, Alastor offered her his hand as she sat atop the limp corpse. Placing her bloodied palm in his, he pulled her up to stand, kissing the back of her hand before she could pull away.

“Perhaps, but first, let’s get you clean, dear.”

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert

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thesovereignsring-if · 1 month

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Welcome everyone! Lili here <3

Read the update here

NOTE: YOU WILL NEED TO START A NEW SAVE FOR THE NEW CONTENT.

The time as come to celebrate the new year with the Festival of Eostre. It will be your first one without your mother, but at least you will have your friends and family with you. Today will be filled with good memories. This will be part 1 of 3 updates for the prologue.

NOTE: The Festival of Eostre is the second prologue that takes place between the introduction and Chapter 1. Until this section is complete, players will not be able to read Chapter 1 anymore. You will also need to start a New Save otherwise your game will break and miss content. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Update Log:

Story:

13+ word update.

Prepare for the festival with your friends and family

Spend sometime with them in 2/4 routes.

Go boating with Alberich and Finn or visit the Markets with Thea and Sieghardt.

Meet Grand Cardinal Lior, the leader of the dominant religion in Nibelheim.

Gameplay/UI Changes:

Dark Theme colours have been slightly adjusted. (If people have a colour theme they wish to see, I'll be more than happy to add them)

Character Creation has been updated and streamlined: (Gender/Pronouns and Sex are separate categories for both adult and child character creations. Attributes chosen during Child Character Creation will be stored as different variables in the event I choose to do anymore flashbacks later on in the story.)

Please note, that choosing after your sex (as an adult) I will assume your character will have the corresponding equipment down there.

Music Credits have been updated.

Fixed typos.

What to expect for the next update:

The remain routes with Linnet and the Empress.

Some Codex Entries + childhood artwork of characters

Have fun! The Festival is only beginning :)

#tsr #the sovereign's ring #devlog #game update #twine if #twine wip #twine interactive fiction #twine #update #interactive ficition

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literaryvein-reblogs · 28 days

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Writing Notes: World-building Questions

How long has your world existed?

How many major cultures exist in your world? (You can answer the following questions for each of them!)

How did your world originate? Do the people who inhabit this world/culture have a creation myth, or a scientific explanation for how it came to be?

If your world/culture has religion, is there one main religion, or many religions? Are the main religions of your world monotheistic or pantheistic?

What resources are in your world/culture? What are the imports/exports? Which resources are rare and valuable, and which are necessary or common?

What are some important historic events in your world/culture? How did they contribute to the geographic or social structures that exist in your world’s present day?

What holidays does your world/culture celebrate?

What is considered a curse word in your world/culture? What is considered sacred, and what is considered profane?

What is the geography and climate of your world/culture?

What are the distances between important places in your world? Draw a map if you want to!

What is the structure of your world’s/culture’s government? Are they at peace or in conflict with neighboring worlds/cultures?

What language(s) do your characters speak? Is language ever a barrier to communication?

What are some of the main dishes the people in your world/culture eat? Where does the food come from, and how is it prepared?

What are the limitations of power, energy, or magic in your world/culture?

What kinds of objects or ideas are familiar to the people of your world/culture? What kind of objects or ideas are strange or outlandish to them? Note: the answers to this might vary depending on the culture your various characters (and readers) come from! What’s familiar to you or your main character might be wildly unfamiliar to someone else.

What are some details you can use from real-world places that are similar to your story world to make it feel more believable? (Think concrete: Sights, sounds, tastes, smells, textures)

How does your main character feel about the world/culture they grew up in?

What does your main character’s home look like? You can describe their room, their house, their neighborhood, their city.

Does your main character most often interact with people who share their experiences, worldview, and upbringing, or do they most often interact with people from very different cultures and life experiences from themselves? What are some of those similarities or differences?

Where does your main character fit into the class/social status of your world/culture? What are some specific things about their location or appearance that indicate wealth, status, profession, etc.?

Source

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thebestofoneshots · 5 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.8 K Warnings: ANGST! Prompt: Meanwhile, on the other side of the line... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 45: Hold the Line

Love isn’t always on time

Tuesday, December 24th

Christmas at the Potters was always a blast. Sirius had learned that when he turned 12 and got invited to their house to celebrate Christmas after he got a dreadful howler about being a disgrace for the Noble House of Black and getting detention for the prank they had done to the Slytherins.

James had overheard Sirius cry at night over the fact that he’d have to spend Christmas alone in the school and decided he had to do something about it. He wrote a letter to his Mum and Sirius got officially invited to their home for the break. Now, the Potters sent the invitation to Sirius and Sirius only, and he got on the train as if he were going home without telling anyone about it. He got another howler when Walburga found out, but it had been worth it.

He hadn’t been allowed to the Potters for Christmas next year, and he made sure to make a show out of it, wearing muggle clothes to the family dinner and acting so irreverent that Orion locked him up in his room, after giving him a scold, slashing him with diffindo, and making him write “I will behave,” over and over again with a black quill. It didn’t work, Sirius made sure to behave even worse on the New Year’s event and he got officially banned from December celebrations by Walburga.

Next year, he was back at the Potters and happier than ever before. The scars he’d gotten (already long gone) had been worth it. Since then, he’d spent Christmas with them, and every year had been better than the last. Effie was always nice to him, and even with how much she was like James, she was still motherly, especially in comparison to Walburga.

And she had treated Sirius like her own boy since they met. In fact, there was never a difference in the way neither Monty nor Effie treated the two boys, they were their kids, and they treated them as such. Sirius appreciated it deeply, he’d found love, care, and appreciation there and he considered Effie more his mom than Walburga ever was. BIood be damned, family isn’t about what’s running through your veins but about the way you care and treat each other, and if anyone was family to him, it was his brother James, and his parents Effie and Monty.

This year had been no different, from the moment they arrived at the house, the smell of Christmas filled the air. Effie had prepared cookie dough for their yearly making of gingerbread houses. It was a small competition –Effie loved competitions– but they all had to build elaborate creations (with a magical twist) and then they’d set them all on the counter and have the house elves judge and pick the best. Whoever won the contest got an extra gift on Christmas.

Sirius had won once, but Monty was always adding clever new magical things onto the houses, like last year when he made a snow globe house, with magical snow –actually sugar– that would swirl around in the air sending positive Christmas words like “Joy” and “Mirth” and even “Happy Hannukah!”, which according to him, was a muggle tradition from a different religion than the one Christmas had spawned from.

This year though, Effie’s recreation of the Big Ben, alongside the magic stars she had made float all around it had gotten the best of both Mellie and Picksie, the Potter’s house elves. And they had unanimously voted her the winner. She had been really pleased about the results, so pleased she had made a little victory dance, showing off her creation and making it the centre of the table.

Sirius saw the adoring look Monty had given her as she danced around, boasting her triumph, and he thought he’d never met a couple more loving than the two of them, but he wanted to match it, he wanted to make you feel the same way Monty made Effie felt all the time, but then he remembered Remus, and felt a pang on his chest, since he too wished he could make him as happy, which was obviously a contradicting thought to the first one.

“Darling, are you all right?” Effie asked when he noticed his frown. Sirius had relatively subtle expressions when he wanted to hide his feelings, something he had learned to do at home, the Stony Black look, but Effie knew that look well enough, and she instantly knew something was up with her boy.

Sirius turned to her with a short “Hm?” as he got driven away from his own thoughts. “Yeah, I was just thinking if she’ll like the gift I made her.”

Effie smiled softly at that, she’d been one of the people to encourage him to draw something for you, especially since she knew you’d been one of the first people he’d shown his art to. James had been very offended when he found out Remus had seen his art before he had and complained to his mother about it while they were making the gingerbread houses, which is how she’d found out.

“I know I’d love it if Monty made me a drawing, and he’s terrible at it, so I’m certain she will,” she reassured him, “If you want we can go out later and you can get her something else, though.”

Sirius shook his head, he didn’t want them to spend even more money on him than they already had, “No, don’t worry about it, I’m probably just self-conscious.”

Effie smiled, there was something heartwarming at seeing Sirius like this, he had never been nervous about a girl, in fact, she wasn’t sure he’d even bothered to get a gift for one before, he looked like a love-sick puppy, it reminded him an awful lot of James, except you liked him back, unlike that Evans girl. Talking about that Evans girl. “So, James is dating Lily now?”

“He somehow convinced her to go on a date,” Sirius said with a shrug, “they went to the Slug Party together.”

“Really?” Effie asked with raised eyebrows.

Sirius nodded in return, “But I cannot give you any more details.”

“It’s all right,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I can pry them off of him later.” She then turned back to Sirius, “You’d think she’d come if we invited her over for dinner with everyone or something? Maybe on New Year’s?”

Effie knew Lily, she had seen pictures of her and she had crossed a few words with her on those occasions she visited the school for a quidditch match. She thought she was a nice enough girl, but she had never had an actual conversation with her and she certainly wanted to do it now. Although, with how much James talked about her, she felt like she knew a good deal and she considered her a delightful young lady, except for the fact that she kept rejecting James.

“I’m not sure, she might if Vix comes,” Sirius responded with a shrug, “they’re really good friends.”

Effie smiled in a sort of devilish way, the same smile Prongs had when he had a good idea for a prank, and gave a short pat in the head to Sirius (which she had gotten a habit of doing back when he was much shorter than her) and walked towards the kitchen.

Sirius decided to go for a broom ride to clear his mind, James and Peter tagged along with him and they ended up racing around the house at insanely fast speeds, fast enough for Sirius’ hair tie to loosen up and leave his hair flowing wildly behind him, and somehow also fast enough to have his mind be cleared of those thoughts he kept having of both you and Remus. Peter left early since his parents called for him, while the other boys decided to play a game of Magic Chess back in the living room.

By dinner, both of them had already eaten half of the gingerbread houses they had made, and some other fancy treats Monty liked to cook for the smaller Christmas Eve dinner they always had. Sirius thought it was fantastic since they almost had two parties instead of one. The first time he stayed at the Potter’s he had been so thrilled that he had accidentally blown up some of the decorations. Effie taught him an advanced version of reparo, and the two of them fixed the place together after that.

This time, Monty had asked for their help with the cooking, since Effie had gone out with the elves to buy more stuff for tomorrow’s dinner. It would be rather small, very few people had been invited due to the war and the fact that not many wizards knew which side the other was on, but Effie was set on having the place be as nice as ever.

Monty loved cooking, he had at some point mentioned that it was like making potions and that there was something oddly satisfying with how a bit of heat and a few spices could make even the most boring of dishes get filled with flavour, and he was set on teaching James, and by extension Sirius, how to cook.

“Perhaps you could make a cake for Lily,” he said as he passed James the measured flour for him to add, “your mother loved it when I sent her homemade cupcakes.”

“You did that?” Sirius asked with raised eyebrows.

“Mhm,” Monty nodded, “beat that a bit faster,” –he said politely as he pointed at the egg whites Sirius had been tasked with fluffing up– “She said she liked men with cooking skills and I asked my mum to help me with it, she sent me a bunch of cooking books and here we are now. James, have you added the cinnamon?”

“Eh…” James thought about it for a second and looked around the counter. The cinnamon was pretty far from where he stood, “don’t think so,” he admitted.

“That’s all right, I’ll add it for you,” he said and waved his wand, in an instant the cinnamon container was lifted up and after shaking softly three times and after dropping some cinnamon over James’ dry ingredient mix, it went back to its place on the table. Then Fleamont went back to cutting the apples into small pieces. “When you’re done with that James, please add some butter to the pans.”

“Okay,” James said with a nod and got busy with his task. The three of them were surprisingly efficient in the kitchen. They hadn’t been like that the first time around, but Monty decided they had to know how to –at least– make soup if they were ever going to live alone one day and had them take an intensive course a couple of summers ago. Both James and Sirius had gotten much better grades at potions after that, especially because Monty, being such an expert potioneer, had taught them to cook with potion-making techniques.

He hadn’t done it intentionally, but he was pretty satisfied with the result, especially when Effie praised him for being so clever and entertaining the kids with cooking while also teaching them something. He took the credit for being slick with a smile.

By the time they were done with the cake preparations, the food was ready to pull out of the oven. Monty and Sirius took the stuff out and passed it to James who took it to the table that Effie and Picksie were setting up while they focused on revising the temperature and placing the cakes in the oven. They had made three cakes, a chocolate cake that was James’ favourite, a carrot cake that Monty loved and an apple crumble one that both Sirius and Effie were mad about.

Effie had gotten some extra treats for the boys, and she had even gotten some Shepherd's Pie from a muggle place called “The Wingmore” that Monty loved. They had a delicious family dinner together, with cookies, pie and baked potatoes. They caught up with each other, and both Monty and Effie teased James about Lily mercilessly. Then Monty mentioned something about having “The Talk” with James and Sirius had to cough it in order to hide a cackle.

Prongs had kicked him under the table while Effie had appeared a glass of water for him so he could take a drink, and Sirius had thanked her with the soft charming smile of his that made all the girls swoon, James glared at him for it, and the other boy winked at him brazenly. If it went something like the talk Monty had given him 2 years ago when he started dating around, James might not survive it.

Sirius walked back to James’ room and decided to wait there for him to tease him once his talk with Monty was over, but Sirius was pretty tired from a day filled with fun, and he fell asleep pretty much the second he hit James’ bed.

He woke up a few minutes later when he felt a heavy leg over his own. He opened his eyes confused, thinking it was warm, but also that it smelled weird. Or perhaps not weird, just… not the way it should smell. It smelled of cedar, firewood, mint and summer breeze, not like books, parchment, chocolate and you. He blinked his eyes open and spotted James’ arm draped over his chest and his leg on top of both of his own. He was cuddling Sirius like he cuddled his pillows.

“Prongs,” he said softly, but the boy just snuggled deeper into him. “Prongs!” he repeated. “Prongs, what the fuck!”

James frowned and looked at Sirius as if he had been wronged, “What do you want?”

“Why are you cuddling me?”

“You’re in my bed,” the boy responded with a shrug.

“So what? Don’t you know about personal space?”

Bold fucking words for Sirius Black, James thought.

“Just shut up, I’m tired.”

“No, get off me!” Sirius said as he tried to pry James’ legs off of him, but James was heavier, and at this point, he was determined to piss Sirius off after being so wrongly accused.

“Pads!” James complained. “Just let me sleep, mate.”

“Not until you get off.”

“You never tell Remus to get off,” James huffed and tightened his grip.

What?

You never tell Remus to get off.

YOU NEVER TELL REMUS TO GET OFF!

Sirius opened his eyes wide as he looked at the ceiling, completely in shock as he let the words sink in. He looked to the side, trying to hide the panic, “That’s different,” he managed to muster.

“How is it different? I’m your best mate anyway, if you’re giving hugging concessions around, it should be to me.”

How is it different? Yes Sirius, HOW IS IT FUCKING DIFFERENT?!? He wondered to himself. “It’s because of the smell of the pack?”

“Is it? Really?” James asked, he was annoyed, and sleepy, and not quite thinking what he said, let alone how much it was affecting Sirius.

“Of course,” Sirius said defensively and pushed James off of him, turning his back to the boy as James rolled his eyes and did the same.

Prongs knew Sirius would be fine in the morning, but it would be a lie if he said he hadn’t been a little offended by the way he got pushed off, he had seen how close he was to Remus lately, and it wasn’t that he was jealous, but since when was Sirius closer to Moony than to him? Vixen he understood, he was head over heels for you, but Remus?!?

Since when was Pads so close to him?

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bed, Sirius had started to PANIC. There was something so raw about the words half-asleep James had said. Is it really about the smell of the pack? Was he using you as an excuse to cuddle Remus? Was he using his girlfriend… to cuddle his crush?

Perhaps he was a Black after all, it ran in his bIood, all wicked and malicious, cunning and devious. How could he shamelessly cuddle into Remus while you were right next to him? As if he didn’t have a crush on his friend? As if he hadn’t already admitted to himself that Remus was bIoody handsome? With his big broad shoulders and his intoxicating smell of books and chocolate, and a hint of you. With his messy brown hair and his kind smile, it was unfair really, for him to be so pretty and for Sirius to only have realised it now, now that he was happy, now that he had found someone.

When Sirius woke up, there was a pile of gifts on his side of the bed. James had decided to let him sleep in since he had been kind of annoyed at night and he didn’t want to deal with cranky Sirius on Christmas, which is why he was quietly opening his gifts on the other side of the floor.

Sirius leaned over and threw him a look while peeking his head over the bed. When he noticed he smiled. “Look at this” – he pointed at a box of muggle Christmas-themed chocolates– “Lily sent it, they even came with a small note, look,” he said as he passed the note to Sirius.

Sirius eyed him incredulously and took the small card in his hands before turning around on the bed to get himself comfortable, he cleared his throat, “Dear James, I was walking along this Christmas market and they had these chocolates, the adorable elf on the side that looks way too excited to be in a box kind of reminded me off you. Hope you have an amazing Christmas. Love, Lily.”

“You read that? She said ‘Love’.”

“Mhm,” Sirius said with a smirk and turned around again to pick the box from the floor, “Oh god is this the over-excited elf?” he said as he spotted a green-dressed short man on the side, he was wearing a very muggle Christmas outfit and had funny features, although his smile and eye colour did kind of match James’, it was like a bootleg version of him. Sirius couldn’t help but cackle.

“Oi! Don’t make fun of it! She sent it with love.”

“Not laughing at the gift, I’m laughing at the resemblance,” Sirius added while he tried to catch his breath, James had snatched the box from him and carefully placed it next to his leg.

Sirius was still laughing when he saw some light coming from a small hand-held mirror he had placed on his nightstand. It was reflecting a small beam on the ceiling. It was an enchanted mirror he had stolen from his parents back when he still lived with them. He had used it to communicate with James on the longer summers, even if he couldn’t actually talk through it.

Sirius frowned, “You have the sister mirror to someone?”

“Remus,” James said as he stood up and leaned across the bed, “since he was going to be alone this Christmas,” he added. Sirius rolled to the side and then on the bed to reach the same belly-down position James was using and looked inside.

Remus, looking as handsome as ever, was on the other side, shirtless –to Sirius’ dismay– and with his hair slightly messier than usual. Even his smile was so wide it looked like it would burst out of his face.

He waved at the boys and then pointed at a card he had in his hand. It said, “Merry Christmas”.

Sirius looked around and pulled James’ box from the floor, showing him the exact spot where it said “Merry Christmas” as well.

Remus then picked up a small pen and wrote “Thank you for the gifts” on the side of his Christmas letters. Sirius winked in response, he knew Rem would like the book he got him. But he knew he’d especially love the drawing he made for him as well: it was a Wolf, a dog and a fox playing in the forest.

“You made him a drawing too?” James asked with a gasp.

“You’re telling me Mum got a drawing, Vix got a drawing, and Moony got a drawing, but I didn’t?”

“Didn’t have enough time,” Sirius responded with a shrug. Remus, who was trying to read the boys’ lips and kind of got that he was among the few to get a drawing, couldn’t help being filled with joy at the fact that Sirius had done something especially for him.

He then showed the boys all the music you had sent over and spent a while trying to sign something to James that neither he nor Sirius got properly, but he gathered something about you getting him a bunch of books.

“What did she get you?” James asked, turning to Sirius who frowned. He had been so busy looking at his friend’s gifts, that he had forgotten he had also received a few himself.

James placed the mirror at the end of the bed so Remus could see and they all finished unboxing their gifts. Sirius had gotten a CB radio from Remus. There were rather specific instructions on what to do with it, it had even been charmed so that it worked, even in Hogwarts.

“Hello?” he asked as he pressed the button.

“Hey!” Remus replied from the other side, he had a wide smile on his face, thrilled that it actually worked.

“Oh, that’s horrifying,” James said as he looked through Remus in the mirror and Sirius playing with the radio back in his room. “Like dark magic.”

“Just science,” Remus said.

“Didn’t you have to press a button so he can hear?” James asked as he took the radio from Sirius’ hand.

“I can read your lips, you dumbass,” Remus responded, and Sirius started to laugh.

James frowned and covered his mouth with his hands and turned to Sirius “Pretend I said something awful about him.”

“He said you’re a smartass,” Sirius said as he pressed the button, Remus gave James a look, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t–” he started and took back the radio, snatching it from Sirius with a lot more purpose, “I didn’t say that! He made that up.”

“Why would I make that up?” Sirius said innocently.

“To fuck with me.”

Remus started to laugh from the other side, and then pressed the button, “What else did you get?”

Sirius pulled another box while James started to play with the different buttons of the radio, “Read this first,” the longer-haired boy said as he passed the instructions to James who groaned but did as told.

Sirius had gotten a good deal of stuff. It wasn’t weird that he got a bunch of gifts since he stayed at the Potters, his mother used to reject most of the gifts, but he had gotten tons of chocolate from girls every time he stayed over with James. Most of them would end up with Remus’ stash later on. This year he didn’t get as many chocolates, but he still got a good deal of stuff, some from people he didn’t even know.

“I swear every year he gets more stuff,” James said as he shook his head in disbelief. He had been partly to blame since he had gotten him a massive quidditch gear kit for morning practices. Peter had gotten him a magic puzzle that changed every few minutes. Andromeda had sent him some other cool muggle things she’d found, and he was absolutely fascinated by the 8 ball she’d gotten him. It was a ball that you could ask things to and when you turned it around it responded, like a divination device, except with no magic involved. The best part was the ridiculous things it said: “Outlook not so good, try asking your cat”, “Ask again later, I'm napping”, “Signs point to tacos. Always tacos” and his personal favourite, and the main reason Dromeda had gotten it “Are you serious? (No, seriously, are you?)”.

She had also gotten both James, him, Remus and Peter, pet rocks. Now neither of them had a clue what that was, but Dromeda said all the cool kids had one of those with the muggles. The rock came in a box and had a rather detailed manual on how to take care of it, and even a back story claiming that it had been “trained” in Mexico by a pet handler named Pedro.

“You also got a rock?” Remus asked as he pulled one from the side and showed it to the boys through the mirror. Remus’ rock had his eyes slightly further apart than Sirius’. “I named mine Cornelius.”

“Cornelius?” Sirius asked with a frown as he stared at his friend’s rock through the mirror, “Now that you mention it, it does kind of look like a Cornelius.”

“Mine will be Lily,” James said as he took him out of the box. It was a red-ish rock.

“You can’t name your pet Lily!”

“It’s a rock,” James said with a shrug, “I can name it however I want.”

“What’s yours?” he asked as he pointed at Sirius’ rock.

“It’s… Bowie.”

“Hm… love it,” James nodded as he stared at his friend’s rock. The two of them carefully placed them on the side table, as if they were actual, delicate pets and not just, rocks.

They continued opening their gifts, Sirius was absolutely fascinated with yours. He loved the drawing books and pens and markers, the mixtape that you’d gotten him and the watercolours, but he was pretty much obsessed with the penknife. He loved that it had his name on it and he used it to open the rest of his gifts, then he pocketed it and kept it with him the rest of the day.

He was helping Monty peel some potatoes –with his penknife instead of a spell– when James decided to tease him about it.

“You’ve been carrying that around all day,” he said as if it were a throwaway comment while he tried to make a pile of oranges.

“It’s super useful.”

“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that it was a gift from Vixen?”

Monty eyed Sirius with a knowing smile and went back to his cooking.

“That’s just a bonus,” Sirius responded and placed the finished potato in the bowl. “It’s got my name on it, mate,” he said as he moved the knife to the side. “Also, she mentioned she charmed it, but she said I had to figure out what the charm is.”

“Maybe she just said that to have you think about it for ages, and it’s not actually charmed.”

Sirius stopped moving for a second, looking at nowhere in particular as he considered the possibility before letting a short breath out and shaking his head, “Nah, it’s got some kind of magic, I can feel it.”

James, just to tease his friend, further shrugged with an unconvinced air, “If you say so.”

Sirius just took another potato and started peeling it with a small frown. He was about 80% sure he could feel magic on the knife. But he was surrounded by magic, in an extremely magical household, literally every single person around him could wield magic, so it was possible the knife was just reflecting the energies from his environment.

By dinner time, there were some more people in the house. Andromeda, Ted and their daughter Dora had been invited by the Potters since they knew how much Sirius loved seeing his cousin, but she had to skip the dinner since Dora had gotten a fever from playing all day in the snow. The Weasleys had also been invited, Dumbledore had introduced them to Monty a few years back and they were rather fond of each other, even if Arthur was much younger. He had arrived with Molly and their 3 sons: Bill, Charlie and the newborn Percy.

Bill had followed James around the moment he spotted him, and James had shown him some of his old toys, and they all played a game of Exploding Snap with Sirius. There were other Wizards there too, Alastor Moody, who had a very animated conversation with Arabella Fig, Elphias Dodge and both Seraphina Nightshade and her boyfriend Roan Elmore, whom James had met at the party shortly after you and Remus did.

“That’s Roan, Seraphina’s boyfriend.”

“She’s dating someone?” Sirius asked, amused. Seraphina was beautiful, the entire school knew that, but he had no idea she had been dating someone.

“Yeah, he was at Slughorn’s party,” James said and snapped his fingers and took a pair of identical cards, the cards shuffled themselves back onto the table.

“Who’s Slughorn?” asked Billy as he snapped his fingers, Charlie just behind him, was attempting to do the same as his brother, but not quite managing to make a sound.

“The Potions teacher,” Sirius responded as he placed his wand on top of one of the cards and snapped his fingers as well. The rest of the cards on the table started to explode and then they shuffled themselves back together. “You probably won’t like him.”

“I won’t?” Bill asked, his red eyebrows furrowing just a little bit, Sirius thought he looked cute, and he didn’t like little kids all that much.

“He might,” James said with a shrug.

“He won’t if he’s one of the good ones,” Sirius retorted and then snapped his fingers and took a pair of cards.

“I don’t like him at all then,” Bill said with determination, he definitely wanted to fit in with the cool crowd, that obviously being the older boys: Sirius and James. He didn’t need to do much, both boys already liked Bill, if he were their age, he’d probably be part of their gang.

“Me neither,” Charlie added, “Unless he has a dragon.”

“Charlie, people don’t have dragons,” Bill said in a rather exasperated tone, as if it wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that and then snapped his fingers, taking a pair of cards.

Charlie tried to do the same and snapped his fingers, only for them to make no sound again. “But they could,” he insisted, sighed as if he too was tired of having that same argument with Bill and then walked towards Mrs. Weasley, she was talking to Effie about something in a rather hushed tone while Mr. Weasley struggled to get Percy to stop crying a few feet from them.

Sirius was about to snap his fingers again when he felt a sharp pain in his hand, “ah fuck,” he said as he pulled his hand from the table.

“You all right?” James asked, as he snapped his fingers and took the cards Sirius was going to take.

Sirius was staring at his palm confused, the scar from the scary witchcraft store had hurt almost in the same way it had when the necklace burned it on his hand. It was a lot less visible now, but the pain had been the same.

It wasn’t the first time it happened. It had sometimes bothered him back in the day, but it had never been as sharp as today. And it had kind of stopped since you came to Hogwarts. He assumed it must have been some kind of protean charm, but he had no idea how, and if he could use it at all. All he knew was that it hurt sometimes, and it reminded him of you, which he really didn’t like thinking back when you weren’t around.

“Yeah, I think I bit myself or something,” he lied and turned back to the game, snapping his fingers and taking another pair of cards.

James eyed him suspiciously and then the cards shuffled on the table again, completely stealing his train of thought, especially when Bill snapped his fingers and took the pair of cards he was about to take.

In the end, Bill won the game. He was awfully good for a six-year-old, and both Sirius and James were a bit out of practice.

“There you go,” Sirius said as he passed him 3 sickles.

“Thank you,” Bill said, by then Charlie had already come back and was tugging on his brother’s pants. “Charlie, I won them,” he complained as James paid up.

“If I could play, I’d win too!” Charlie complained, “I want to save for the toy dragon at Whimsy Wonders.”

“Well, technically, he helped Bill, didn’t he?” James asked, eyeing Sirius.

“Oh yeah, moral support,” Sirius agreed. “I feel like we owe him for that as well.”

Charlie’s face glowed looking at them. “No, he wasn’t playing,” Bill said.

“Oh, but he was,” James said and handed Charlie a sickle, Sirius did the same. “You wouldn’t have won without him, right?”

Bill frowned, as if about to say he was perfectly capable of winning without Charlie pestering him about dragons, but there was something on James’ gaze that had him hold it. He sighed, “Of course, Charlie helped…”

Charlie smiled widely and ran towards Mrs. Weasley. “Mom, Mom, Look!” he said. “We beat the older kids!” he repeated. James chuckled as he saw the small boy jump about, and then Monty called everyone towards the table.

The Potter’s party table was long and round, with different panels that rolled inside to have the food and snacks pass around and stay within everyone’s reach. Of course, wizards could just float whatever they needed their way, but both Monty and Effie thought it was annoying to have the salad dressing and bread basket cover the face of the person they were trying to talk to so they designed the table to be able to have a pleasant conversation.

Sirius was sitting in between James and Charlie, who was determined to sit with them even if he was meant to sit with his brother. Sirius didn’t mind it much, Charlie mostly talked about dragons, and for a 4-year-old, he seemed to have encyclopedic knowledge of them. While Bill, who was always listening to him go on and on about dragons, found it annoying, Sirius and James thought it was actually interesting.

He was telling Sirius about the Ukrainian Ironbelly and how he wanted to get a wand with a dragon heartstring core when he turned 11 when Monty stood up and thanked everyone for coming to the party, which prompted Charlie into silence.

Monty’s speech was heartfelt and honest, just like he was all the time, and while he didn’t explicitly say anything related to the war, he did mention that they were living in dark times, and for such reason, it was time to keep those whom you love at an arm’s length, to take care of each other and to check up on them as often as possible. He said that sometimes even the simplest of messages made the difference.

When his speech was done, there was a small toast, and then they got to eat. Sirius dived straight for the potato souffle since he had helped with the preparation and thought the amount of cheese they had added was mouth-watering, he also waited a couple of seconds for the inside panels of the table to spin around so he could reach for some of Monty’s special turkey. He had tried it the first Christmas he spent with the Potters and since then he always waited eagerly for dinner time to be able to eat it again.

He had even asked Monty for the recipe, but he had never gotten around to preparing it himself, although this Christmas Monty had him do some of the garlic mincing and spices blending for him, so he learned all the techniques. Sirius was more than happy to help, he found the kitchen to be a relaxing place (as long as it was the Potter’s kitchen and Monty was the head chef).

Effie was a lot more demanding in the kitchen, and if he had never dared to enter the one in Grimmauld Place, he was sure to come out as a roasted chicken instead of with one. Kreacher had always been awful to him, and the kitchens were his and Walburga’s territory exclusively.

Sirius was about to take another bite of his turkey, Charlie was talking about a Common Welsh Green and how elegant he thought they were when he felt another pang on his hand. Sharper and a lot more concentrated this time around. He dropped his fork and it clanged against the plate. He looked up, worried, out of habit more than anything, only to realise he was at home, and not with Walburga where he might have been awfully reprimanded.

With the Potters it was different, in fact, Monty gave him a short questioning look, clearly asking if he was all right, to which Sirius nodded. Monty went back to his talk and allowed James to check on Sirius instead. Meanwhile, Effie raised her voice just a little, covering up for the loud sound Sirius had caused and Molly laughed loudly at something Alastor said. Sirius looked around with a small smile.

Yeah, this is home, he thought as he pulled his hand towards him and placed his thumb over the already faded scar.

“Mate, that’s the second time today,” James said, looking at Sirius with a frown.

“I don’t know what’s with it either,” he admitted with a shrug.

“You wanna skip dessert? Go sleep?”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sirius lied, trying to push aside the unsettling feeling gnawing at his mind. It had been months since it last troubled him, and this time it felt worse, not even in the aftermath of Mexico when he discovered how annoying it could be, but back then he assumed it was just the healing process, he didn’t know about Protean charms and, even now, he didn’t know why it was happening, perhaps then he would have reacted faster.

Regardless of the uneasiness, Sirius intended to enjoy the dinner, and he did, in between eating, joking with James and hearing Charlie talk about dragons, he was distracted from the pain so often that by the time he went to sleep, he had almost completely forgotten about the discomfort. That was until he actually fell asleep.

In his dream, Sirius found himself in an eerie scene, surrounded by his family, yours, Evan, Arkalis, and even the Dark Lord. Regulus was speaking to him, then he cast a hex on his brother, and suddenly they were torturing Muggles. That’s when he realised he wasn’t himself; he was seeing things through your eyes as if you had lent them to him.

He saw his cousin Bella and then your friend, Nina who was being tortured with an unforgivable. That’s when you reacted, there was a fire. Not any fire, Fiendfyre. The massive Chimera you created was burning everything in its wake. Chaos ensued, lives were lost, and you fled.

He saw how you ran alongside Nina until you were further enough away, but Lucius showed up out of nowhere. You duelled him, almost won, but Nina was hit by a stunning spell and you lost it, throwing yourself over her and crying, desperate to bring her back, but she wasn’t responding. There was a blinding light and he heard Barty’s voice.

“Sirius!” a voice called from a distance. “SIRIUS!”

He jolted awake, with a confused gaze as if trying to get back to reality, “James?”

“You’ve been muttering Vixen’s name over and over, and you’re sweating,” James said, his hand on Sirius’s forehead. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

Sirius frowned, his pulse fast and his breathing short, still struggling to ground himself. The dream had felt so real as if he really had been you, as if he really had gone through all that stuff, perhaps he had drunk too much of that Dragon Wine after listening to Charlie go on and on about how the process of slowly heating the conserve with dragon breath was “so fascinating”.

It’s not that he didn’t think it was interesting, but no matter what you said, Charlie found a way to connect it with dragons and after a while, it did get dizzying.

“Yeah, it was awful,” Sirius admitted. “Thank Merlin it was just a dream.”

James nodded and threw himself next to Sirius, taking the rock Andromeda had given him and tossing it from hand to hand. Back when they were smaller, James would sleep with Sirius whenever he had a nightmare. It reminded Sirius of Reggie and he always felt a lot more at ease when he wasn’t alone on the bed. He didn’t do it much anymore, Sirius’ nightmares had decreased, and he had also gotten a lot better at hiding when he had some.

“I’ll go take piss,” Sirius said as he stood up. James threw him a side glance and watched his friend walk all the way to the bathroom attentively. He wasn’t sure when had been the last time Sirius had had such a distressing nightmare, and the fact that it had to do with you, must have been even more upsetting.

He understood it much better now that he had Lily, he wanted to protect her more than anything in this world and the thought of something, anything, happening to her was enough to make his bIood run cold. He was scared of things happening to her, and he assumed Sirius must have been just as scared of things happening to you. Especially with how things were now. At least you were a pure-bIood, not as much of a target for deatheaters as Lily was.

In truth, James had sent notes to Lily every day since he got home, not because he missed her so dreadfully that he couldn’t go a day without talking to her –which was also kind of true- but because he was terrified he wouldn’t see her again. There were rumours of death eaters going for muggle-borns now. And James had read about a student from 2nd year disappearing along with her family last month. Nobody knew where Jane Bishop and her parents were.

Sirius walked towards the bathroom as quietly as possible, he didn’t know the time, but he didn’t want to wake up anybody by accident either. He went straight to the sink and tried to wash the sweat off his face, letting some of the water pool in the sink to be able to clean his neck better. When he dug his hand into the water, is when he realised things hadn’t been just a nightmare.

He felt like he had been hit in the stomach and stumbled back a couple of steps until his back crashed against the back wall, then he saw Barty right in front of him, throwing a stunning spell at his face. He didn’t move, but the bathroom dissolved behind him and he appeared to be sitting in the snow, looking up at the Shrieking Shack, completely surrounded by snow. His eyes, although actually opened, slowly closing and opening again.

One moment he was there, and the next, he saw James crouching right in front of him, with a concerned expression.

“It wasn’t a dream,” Sirius managed to mumble.

“What?”

“It wasn’t a dream!” he repeated a little louder, grabbing onto the towel rack to stand back up again, James helped pull him up and he bolted out of the bathroom.

James looked at his friend and waved his wand over the mess, all things slowly going back into place, the faucet closing and the sink emptying as he walked behind Sirius.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I think shit went down at Rosier’s Christmas party,” Sirius muttered as he paced around the room, “And it was because of Vixen.”

“When you say shit went down…”

“I mean Fiendfyre and dеad people,” Sirus said looking up at James with a stony expression. “But that’s… she somehow ended up in the Shack, Barty stunned her just outside-”

“Sirius–” James said in a comforting tone.

“We need to do something, she might get hypothermia if she stays out for too long, she–”

“Sirius!” James called again, a lot more stern now, grabbing onto his friend’s shoulders and shaking him to get his attention. “Are you sure it wasn’t a nightmare?” Sirius swallowed thickly, his eyes watering as he nodded. James took a deep breath, “Okay, I’ll talk to my parents, we can confirm with–”

“No!! Sirius said, snapping out of James. “It was real, and she’s alone, in the snow, pretty much passed out, we have to do something. Maybe I can apparate there or–”

“You’ll splinch.”

“Damn it, James!” Sirius snapped. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“Remus!” James said, looking up at Sirius.

“Remus?” Sirius asked, confused.

“He’s at school, he can take the passage and–” Sirius didn’t even let James finish, he had already run towards the mirror and the radio, flashing the mirror with lumos and shouting at the small microphone.

“Sirius?” Remus asked confused from the other side of the line.

Sirius was quick to fill him in, and Remus had put a coat on in seconds.

“Wait!” James said as Remus pocketed the mirror and walked towards the door. Remus took the mirror out and looked at the two boys. “What if it’s a trap?”

“If Vixen’s in danger, I don’t care if it’s a trap,” Remus said, with the same determination as Sirius when he was about to risk splinching.

“Remus?” Sirius said, doubtful.

“Yeah?” the boy responded through the radio.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I will,” the boy reassured and pocketed the mirror again.

After that, there was radio silence.

Sirius paced around the room, Monty and Effie had woken up and walked towards them. Effie had a note in her hand and seemed to be hesitating to speak.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

Effie looked to the side and wet her lips before looking back at her boy. “It’s her mother, Avis” –she hesitated– “She’s dеad.” Effie said as she let out a short breath, “there was dark magic that went out of control, Rosier Manor was badly damaged. No one knows where she is.”

“She’s not there,” Sirius reassured.

Effie frowned and James explained to both of his parents what had happened. Monty went to place a hand on Sirius’ back as they sat on the bed. The boy’s leg kept bouncing, but there was no news, neither from you nor from Remus. All he could see was the dark fabric from Remus’ pocket through the mirror.

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oceandolores · 1 month

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 8

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"The fates already fucked me sideways,"

summary: the secrets out

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 8

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter 7

next | chapter 9

The sun filtered through the church windows, casting a soft glow over the sanctuary where the girls' dance troupe had been practicing for hours. Tomorrow was the big day—the fellowship celebration—where all the church elders, members, and their families would gather to witness the performances. The pressure was on, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on your shoulders. This was your first time leading something, and the responsibility felt immense.

Jemima had been a godsend, helping you organize the routines, going over each step with the girls until everything was perfect. Her calm, reassuring presence had been a balm to your nerves. Joel had been equally supportive, his quiet encouragement easing the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm you. Just thinking about him brought a smile to your face, even in the midst of all the stress.

During a break in the practice, you and Emma headed to the back of the church to grab some snacks and drinks. The two of you chatted idly, the tension from the rehearsal melting away with each laugh you shared. It was a rare moment of calm, one you desperately needed before the whirlwind of tomorrow’s event.

But then, as you reached for a bottle of water, a familiar, unwelcome presence loomed over you. Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat as you turned to see Jamie standing there, his eyes dark and malicious.

“Hi, Jamie,” Emma greeted him casually, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”

Jamie ignored her, his gaze locked on you, a twisted smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you tell him, hm?” His voice was low, taunting, sending a chill down your spine.

You froze, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach. “What are you talking about, Jamie? Just get out of here.” You tried to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the snacks, hoping he would just leave you alone.

But Jamie wasn’t finished. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I know about you and him.”

Your body went rigid, the blood draining from your face. Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, hoping to deflect his insinuations.

Jamie chuckled darkly, leaning in closer. “Don’t play dumb. You think I wouldn’t find out? I knew you were always a dirty slut, but damn, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Emma glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s going on?"

You didn’t answer, your mind racing, trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation. “Jamie, just leave me alone,” you repeated, your voice shaking.

But Jamie wasn’t done yet. His eyes glittered with malice as he continued, “If you say anything about us, I’ll make sure everyone knows about you and Joel.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure Emma could hear it. The mention of Joel’s name made you freeze in place, terror gripping you like a vise.

Emma’s eyes widened as she processed what Jamie had said. She looked at you, then back at Jamie, horror dawning on her face.

Jamie grinned wickedly, relishing in your fear. “Oh, she didn’t tell you, did she? The saint preacher's daughter over here has been fucking around with good ol’ Joel Miller. Isn’t that right?”

Emma’s face went pale, her expression a mixture of shock and disgust. “Jamie, stop,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. But he ignored you, his cruel words cutting deeper with each passing second.

“He’s old enough to be your dad, for God’s sake,” Jamie sneered. “He should be in jail for what he’s done to you, and you…you should be ashamed of yourself. But then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always such a little whore.”

Jamie’s words hit you like a slap to the face, the weight of his accusations crashing down on you. Emma stood frozen beside you, her eyes wide and filled with disbelief.

“I…” You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Jamie’s threats hung in the air, and the reality of what he could do, the damage he could cause, made your head spin.

Without another word, Jamie turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Emma standing there in stunned silence. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, everything spinning out of control as you tried to process what had just happened.

"Emma..." you said. you are scared, scared to death.

Emma’s eyes were wide, her face pale with shock as she pulled you into the small storage room, slamming the door shut behind her. The dim light barely illuminated the cramped space, casting long shadows on the walls. The sound of your heart pounding in your chest echoed in your ears, drowning out the faint hum of the air conditioning unit.

“What the fuck?” Emma’s voice was a harsh whisper, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair. “Joel Miller? Ellie’s dad?! Are you fucking crazy?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Panic seized your throat, making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. You felt trapped, cornered by both Emma’s piercing gaze and the weight of the secret that had just been exposed.

“I…I can explain,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you said it, you knew how hollow it sounded. How could you possibly explain something like this? How could you make her understand the connection you felt with Joel, the way he made you feel safe, loved, and cherished in a way you had never experienced before?

Emma’s expression softened for a moment, as if she could see the turmoil in your eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Explain? What’s there to explain? This is crazy! He’s twice your age, he’s Ellie’s dad and YOUR DAD'S BEST FRIEND!, for God’s sake. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

"This could ruin everything. Do you even realize the danger you’re in? What will happen if your dad finds out? If the church finds out?” She said again.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to break down. “I know how it looks, Emma, but it’s not like that. It’s not just some fling or something… I love him, and he loves me.”

Emma stared at you, her mouth agape, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Love? You think this is love? He’s a grown man, He should know better!”

“He does know better,” you shot back, your voice rising in desperation. “But I’m not a child, Emma. I know what I want, and I want Joel. He’s not taking advantage of me. It’s real. He protect me, he...he's always there for me,"

Emma shook her head, her face a mix of anger and hurt. “You’re so blinded by this…whatever it is that you can’t see how wrong it is. What do you think is going to happen when people find out? What about your dad? He’ll go ballistic. And Joel…he could get in serious trouble. You’re both going to get hurt.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation crashing down on you. You knew she was right, but the thought of losing Joel, of being torn away from him, was unbearable.

“Emma, please,” you begged, reaching out to grab her hand. “Please, don’t say anything. I know this is a mess, but I can’t lose him. I love him, and I don’t care about the consequences. I just…I just need you to understand.”

Emma looked down at your hand clutching hers, her expression torn. She was silent for what felt like an eternity, and you held your breath, praying that she would somehow find it in her heart to forgive you, to keep your secret.

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I don’t know what to do. This is so messed up. You both will get exiled! Or worse, he could be in jail for molesting you!”

Her words struck a nerve, the idea of Joel being painted as some sort of predator made your blood boil. “He did NOT molest me!” you snapped, your voice rising with a fierce intensity that startled both of you. Emma’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t hold back the torrent of emotions any longer.

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Emma,” you continued, your voice trembling but steady. “He didn’t force me into anything. I wanted this. I wanted him. Joel is a good man, and you don’t understand—he’s the only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m worth something. He’s been there for me when no one else was, not even my own dad.”

Emma’s face softened, but there was still a deep conflict in her eyes. Don’t you see how wrong this is? It’s not just about love or how he makes you feel. This could destroy everything—for both of you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I know it’s complicated, and I know it’s not what people expect. But it’s real, Emma. What we have is real. And I don’t care if it’s wrong in the eyes of the church or society. All I know is that I can’t lose him. I won’t.”

Emma shook her head, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. “You’re not thinking straight. This isn’t just about you. It’s about him too. If this gets out…if people find out, it won’t just be your life that’s ruined. Joel could lose everything. His reputation, his business, his freedom. Is that what you want?”

The weight of her words hung heavily between you, but you couldn’t back down. “No, of course not,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “But I can’t just walk away from him. I love him, Emma. I love him in a way I’ve never loved anyone else. And I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Emma’s eyes searched yours, as if looking for some sign that you might change your mind, that you might realize the gravity of the situation. But she didn’t find it. Instead, she saw the depth of your resolve, the unyielding determination in your gaze.

“Then you better be prepared for the consequences,” she finally said, her voice tinged with sadness. “Because this won’t end well. Not for you, not for Joel. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you faced Emma, your heart pounding with the weight of the truth you were about to unveil. “I’m already hurt, Emma,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Every day I have to pretend that I’m okay, that I’m fine living this life. But I’m not. Joel is the only thing that makes it bearable. And I’m willing to risk everything for him.”

The desperation in your voice hung heavily in the air, and you saw Emma’s resolve begin to waver. Her eyes softened, the anger and judgment in them slowly being replaced with concern and fear for you. “Please, Emma,” you begged, your voice cracking, “please, I'm begging you, don’t tell anyone. Joel’s not the bad guy. He’s not who you think he is. He saved me.”

Emma hesitated, her face torn between wanting to protect you and not fully understanding the gravity of the situation. You knew there was only one way to make her see, to make her understand why you couldn’t let go of Joel—why you couldn’t go back to the way things were before.

Taking a shaky breath, you let the words spill out, words you’d kept buried deep inside for so long, words that had been eating away at you like a poison. “You want to know the truth, Emma? The real reason why I’ve been avoiding Jamie? Why he’s been threatening me like that?”

Emma’s eyes widened, fear creeping into her expression as she shook her head slightly, as if not wanting to hear what you were about to say. But you couldn’t stop now, not after holding this secret for so long.

“Because he raped me,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the word, the shame and pain you’d been carrying for so long finally breaking free. “He took my virginity by force, Emma. He didn’t care about me—he just wanted to prove he could have me, no matter what. And when he was done, he left me there, feeling like nothing.”

The tears finally broke free, streaming down your cheeks as you saw Emma’s face pale, her eyes filling with horror and disbelief. “He—he did what?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your voice wavered as you continued, the weight of your confession bearing down on you like a cross too heavy to carry. "I felt so dirty," you whispered, your words trembling in the still air between you and Emma. "So broken. I wanted to end it all, to just disappear and never have to feel that way again. I started drinking, hiding bottles in my room, sneaking out at night just to numb the pain. I even went to church drunk, praying to God to take this all away, but no one ever noticed.”

The words tumbled out like confessions at a confessional, your voice cracking under the strain of so much pain. "Every night, I would whisper to God, pleading for mercy. I’d pray for the angels to come down and take this burden from me, to carry me away on their wings to a place where I didn’t have to feel this pain anymore. And if no angel would come, I begged for death, for the final peace of oblivion, because I couldn’t keep fighting. I was drowning, Emma, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break the surface.”

You took a shuddering breath, your hands shaking as you clutched Emma’s arms, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood. "I prayed for deliverance, for a way out of this darkness. I asked God to send me someone, anyone, who could make me feel whole again, who could remind me that I wasn’t just a vessel for shame and sorrow. And then Joel came into my life, like a beacon of light in a storm. He made me believe that maybe I wasn’t beyond saving, that maybe there was still something left in me worth loving."

Emma’s eyes were filled with tears, her face a picture of grief and understanding. She didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, as if trying to shield you from all the pain you had been carrying alone for so long.

“And now, I’m terrified, Em,” you admitted, your voice breaking completely. “Because I’m afraid that if I lose Joel, I’ll lose the last bit of hope I have left. I don’t want to go back to that darkness, to that place where I prayed for death. I don’t want to feel that way again.”

Emma’s arms tightened around you, her tears mingling with yours as she whispered, “You won’t go back there. I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. I’ll help you through this, whatever it takes.”

The weight of your confession hung in the air like incense rising to the heavens, a prayer of desperation and sorrow. And in that moment, you felt a glimmer of something—something like hope—begin to take root in the cracks of your broken heart. Emma’s embrace was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on for so long.

"I can't lose him, I can't," you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking the words too loudly might shatter the fragile hope beginning to bloom within you. The thought of a life without Joel, without the one person who made you feel seen and loved, was unbearable. You clung to Emma as though letting go would mean slipping back into the darkness that had once consumed you.

Emma held you tighter, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You're not going to lose him," she murmured, her voice firm yet gentle. "We’ll figure this out, okay?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in Emma's shoulder, her words offering a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed so desperately. It was the first time in a long time that someone had promised to stand by you, no matter the cost. "Thank you, Emma," you managed to choke out, your gratitude overwhelming.

Emma pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her expression serious. "You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere."

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes. The fear still lingered, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. With Emma by your side, the path ahead seemed a little less daunting. The darkness that had once felt all-consuming now had a small, flickering light within it—a light that you were determined to hold onto.

But as the two of you stood there, the reality of your situation pressed in on you once more. Jamie’s threats echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the fear of what he might do. The thought of him exposing your relationship with Joel sent a shiver down your spine.

“What if he tells?” you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety. “What if he goes to my dad, or the church? Joel could be ruined, and I—I don’t know what would happen to me.”

Emma shook her head, determination hardening her features. “We won’t let that happen."

You swallowed hard, feeling a renewed sense of resolve. Emma’s faith in you, in both of you, gave you strength.

As you stood there, side by side, the weight of the world felt just a little bit lighter. The storm was far from over, but at least now you knew you didn’t have to face it alone.

***

The night had settled in, wrapping the world in a cloak of darkness as you and the other girls finished your practice. The church hall was now empty, the echoes of laughter and chatter fading away as everyone headed home. The dance routine had been drilled into your muscles, each movement precise, every step aligned with the rhythm. You had pushed yourself hard, knowing that tomorrow would be a day of judgment—not just for your performance, but for the life you had chosen to live in secret.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air kissed your skin, a welcome relief from the heat of the practice room. The streets were quiet, almost eerily so, with only the occasional flicker of streetlights breaking through the darkness. The silence was a stark contrast to the noise in your mind, where thoughts swirled like a storm.

Emma offered to drive you home in her new car, her concern evident in the way she lingered, keys in hand. "Are you sure you don’t want a ride? It’s getting late," she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. "I’ll be fine, Emma. I just need to clear my head a bit. I’ll walk."

She hesitated, searching your face for any sign of doubt. "Alright," she finally said, though her eyes still held a trace of worry. "Just… be careful, okay?"

You nodded, reassuring her with another smile. "I will. See you tomorrow."

With that, you both exchanged goodbyes, and you started your walk home. The night seemed to press in around you, the darkness heavy with unspoken fears and unvoiced hopes. Your footsteps echoed on the pavement, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of your heart.

You clutched your backpack a little tighter, its weight grounding you as your thoughts drifted. Tomorrow was supposed to be a big day—your dad would be home early, the church event would be in full swing, and all eyes would be on you. But all you could think about was Joel. The way he made you feel alive, seen, and cherished in a world that often felt cold and uncaring. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of having that light snuffed out by the darkness that threatened to consume you.

The streetlights cast long shadows on the road ahead, their glow flickering like the doubts that gnawed at your mind. What if Jamie followed through on his threats? What if your dad found out? The thought made your chest tighten with fear. You had built this delicate web of secrecy, each strand woven with care, but it could all unravel with just one word, one misstep.

You tried to push the fear away, focusing instead on the warmth Joel had given you, the way his presence had pulled you back from the edge time and time again. You repeated to yourself that you couldn’t lose him—not now, not ever. He was your anchor, your sanctuary in a world that had so often felt like a battlefield.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the figure lurking in the shadows until it was too late. As you rounded a corner, a rustling sound from the bushes made you pause. Your breath hitched, and you stopped in your tracks, your heart pounding in your chest.

Then, like a specter emerging from the darkness, Jamie stepped out from the shadows, his presence cold and menacing. His lips curled into a twisted smile as he saw the fear flash across your face.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. His presence casting a dark shadow over you. You took a step back, a chill running down your spine. “Get the fuck out of my face, Jamie,” you demanded, your voice trembling but resolute.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he advanced. “You told Emma about me, didn’t you?” His tone was cold and accusatory. Fear tightened in your chest, but you tried to hold your ground.

“If you ruin me, I’ll make sure I ruin you,” he sneered, his threat hanging heavy in the air. “I’ll make sure they take him away from you.”

Desperation and anger flared inside you. “What the fuck do you want from me?!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion.

Without warning, Jamie’s hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you toward the bushes. You struggled against his grip, trying to scream for help, but his strength overwhelmed you. The world seemed to close in as he shoved you down onto the dirt, his actions abrupt and frightening.

In a surge of panic, you tried to push him away, your heart racing as he started to unzip his pants, “No, Jamie, please!” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t!”

Jamie’s voice was cruel and mocking. “Did he make you feel good, huh? You should thank me. I brought out this slut hidden beneath you, didn’t I? I should be the one who fuck you good, not some old fucking ass like Joel Miller.”

His words cut deep, and you felt a sense of helpless dread. The stars above seemed to spin as you tried to escape, your heart pounding with fear and sorrow. But Jamie’s hold was unrelenting, and your pleas seemed to fade into the night, swallowed by the dark.

"Please, don't, please," you try your best to shoved him but he pull your skirt down, "Help!" you scream and Jamie punch you again, "Be quiet, you dirty whore,".

As Jamie’s grip tightened, he enters you by force, and the world seemed to tilt, your mind sought refuge in the distant twinkle of the stars. You closed your eyes, trying to escape into the silent comfort of the night sky. Each star above was a distant beacon, a reminder that somewhere, beyond this moment, there was still a world of light and hope.

You tried to focus on the stars, their cold, indifferent light providing a fragile sense of calm. In the midst of your torment, you held onto the hope that this night would end, that the dawn would break and with it, bring the promise of a new beginning.

The beauty of the celestial expanse above seemed to offer a quiet solace, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is still a universe beyond, filled with unspoken promises and untold stories.

As Jamie’s actions continued, the pain and fear seemed to blur, becoming a distant echo compared to the clarity of the stars. You imagined yourself drifting among them, free from the terror below, where the hurt could not reach and the darkness could not touch.

Just look at the stars, you'll be fine

As the tears running down your face, you bit your lips to hold the pain, Jamie's moaning on your ear. You tried to focus on the stars, their silent brilliance a reminder of a world beyond this moment. You whispered a prayer to the universe, to any higher power that might be listening, to make it stop, to take away the suffering and grant you the strength to endure.

"Jesus Christ, please, make all of this stop, I'm tired," you prayed, your voice a desperate whisper that mingled with the night’s silence. The tears streaming down your face were a testament to your exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

Jamie, lost in his own world, was too consumed by his actions to hear your plea. His mocking laughter echoed through the night, a cruel reminder of the powerlessness you felt in this moment. His words and actions were a stark contrast to the gentle night sky above, where you tried to find solace.

Despite the overwhelming pain, you continued to gaze at the stars, seeking refuge in their distant, unchanging light. They were your silent witnesses, a reminder that there was something beyond this immediate suffering, a world where this moment of anguish would eventually fade into the past.

With final thrust, he finally reach his climax, he came inside you.

The night was a tapestry of silent suffering and shattering despair. When Jamie finally finished, he lay beside you, breath ragged and labored. The stillness of the night contrasted sharply with the turmoil of your heart. You lay there, numb and tearful, as though the ground beneath you was a cruel reminder of your helplessness.

Jamie eventually rose, zipping his pants with a contemptuous smirk. His words were a chilling echo of his earlier cruelty. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead,” he threatened, his voice cold and indifferent. With that, he walked away, leaving you alone in the dirt, a broken figure beneath the indifferent stars.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you lay there, struggling to gather yourself. The pain was a relentless tide, overwhelming and unyielding. The stars above, once your silent witnesses, now seemed distant and cold, a vast expanse that mocked your suffering.

You slowly sat up, the weight of the night heavy on your shoulders. Your dress was torn and stained, your hair a tangled mess. Every movement was a reminder of the agony you had endured. You tried to fix your appearance, but the effort felt like an exercise in futility. The blood staining your legs was a harsh reminder of what Jamie had done.

As you walked through the night, your steps were unsteady, your mind clouded with despair. The questions swirled in your head: Why had this happened to you? Why did life have to be so painfully cruel? The burden of your suffering seemed almost unbearable.

Desperate for solace, you made your way to Joel’s home. Each step was a struggle, your heart aching with the need for his presence, for his comfort. When you reached his door, you knocked, hoping against hope that he was home.

Ellie opened the door, her eyes widening in shock as she took in your disheveled and bleeding appearance. Her voice was filled with panic as she called out, “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”

With tears brimming in your eyes and your voice trembling, you asked, “Ellie, is… is Joel home?” The words were barely a whisper, but they carried the weight of your desperation.

From inside, you could hear Joel’s voice from inside, “Ellie, who's on the door?"

Joel’s eyes widened with alarm as he saw you standing there, a vision of distress and anguish. Without hesitation, he bolted to the door, his face etched with fear and concern. As he reached you, the dam holding back your tears finally broke.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your strength crumbling. You collapsed into his arms, the sobs wracking your body uncontrollably. The dam of your grief had burst, and you clung to him with all the strength you had left, your tears soaking into his shirt.

Joel’s expression shifted from panic to a fierce, protective concern. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you close as though he could shield you from the world’s cruelty simply by being there. “What happened?” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

Ellie watched in stunned silence, her hands covering her mouth as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Joel guided you gently inside, his movements tender yet urgent, as if every second mattered. He led you to the living room, helping you sit down on the couch, his touch both steady and soothing.

“Joel... he... he did it again,” you said weakly, your voice barely more than a whisper. The words felt heavy on your lips, each one a painful reminder of what had happened.

Ellie’s confusion turned to alarm as she processed your words, her face pale with concern. Joel, however, understood immediately. His anger was palpable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. “That son of a bitch,” he cursed slowly, his voice low but seething with fury.

He moved you gently, laying you down on the couch with careful hands. As he began to check you for injuries, his touch was both deliberate and compassionate. When his fingers brushed against your legs and he saw the blood, his expression shifted from anger to a deep, heart-wrenching sorrow.

Joel’s face contorted with grief as he realized the extent of Jamie’s cruelty. He shouted “FUCK!” in a voice that shook the very walls, causing Ellie to flinch and step back in shock. The raw emotion in Joel’s outburst was a stark contrast to his usually composed demeanor.

With a trembling hand, Joel placed his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin mingling with your tears. For the first time, you saw him cry—silent, heartbroken tears that spoke volumes. His voice was a whisper as he spoke, “I’m going to make sure he pays for this. I promise you.”

You looked into Joel’s brown eyes, feeling a mix of fear and sorrow. The pain in your body was overwhelming, and you could barely comprehend what had just happened. “Joel, it hurts,” you managed to say through your tears.

“I know, baby,” Joel said, his voice filled with tender sorrow. “I know it hurts. We’re going to fix this.”

He turned to Ellie, his voice now frantic. “Ellie, get a bucket of warm water and a napkin, now!” His desperation made Ellie’s hands shake as she hurried to follow his orders.

Returning to you, Joel’s eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and determination. “I need to know, baby,” he said softly, “Did he... did he...”

“Inside of me, Joel,” you sobbed, “He came inside of me.”

Joel's world had never felt so fragile, so perilously close to shattering. The weight of your words bore down on him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in a sea of grief and rage. His heart twisted with a pain so fierce it felt as though it might break him in two. Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance, but right now, his only focus was you—protecting you, comforting you, holding you together when you were on the verge of falling apart.

His breath came in ragged bursts as he fought to control the storm inside him. He pressed his forehead against yours, the gesture tender and desperate, as though he could transfer some of his strength to you, even as his own reserves were dangerously low. His voice, usually so steady and composed, wavered with emotion as he whispered, "He will pay for what he did to you. I swear it."

But your voice, so small and broken, cut through the darkness of his rage. "Joel, I'm scared," you whispered, and the fear in your voice was a knife to his heart.

In that moment, Joel’s protective instincts surged to the forefront. All thoughts of vengeance were pushed aside by the overwhelming need to be there for you, to make sure you knew you weren’t alone. “You’ll be okay, I promise you,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “I’m here. I got you, babygirl.”

Ellie returned with the warm water and napkins, but she paused in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the scene before her. Joel’s forehead was still pressed against yours, his eyes closed, as he murmured soft words of comfort. There was a raw, unguarded tenderness in his expression that Ellie had never seen before—an intimacy that spoke of a deep, unspoken connection between the two of you.

She felt a pang of confusion and something else, something she couldn’t quite name, as she watched the way Joel held you. He was always protective, always looking out for her, but this... this was different.

As she handed Joel the bucket and napkins, she kept her gaze on the two of you, trying to reconcile this new reality with the Joel she knew. He was always a guardian, a protector, but this... this was a depth of care and love that shook her to her core.

Joel took the supplies from Ellie with a quiet “thank you,” but his attention never wavered from you. He dipped the napkin in the warm water, his hands gentle and sure as he began to clean your wounds. His touch was reverent, almost like he was handling something sacred, something fragile that he couldn’t bear to see hurt anymore. Each movement was careful, deliberate, as if by caring for your physical wounds, he could somehow heal the ones buried deeper within you.

You watched Joel through tear-filled eyes, seeing the pain etched into every line of his face. It was as if the roles had been reversed—where once he had been your protector, now you saw how deeply he was affected by your suffering, how much he needed you to be okay, not just for your sake, but for his.

Ellie stood by, watching Joel taking care of you, her heart heavy with the weight of this new understanding. She could see the fear and hurt in your eyes, the way you clung to Joel as if he were your lifeline. And Joel... the way he held you, the way he whispered reassurances, it was clear to Ellie that this wasn’t just about protection. This was love, fierce and consuming, and it terrified her as much as it comforted her to see it.

She began to replay moments in her head, memories that had seemed insignificant at the time but now took on a new meaning. There were the sudden, unexplained changes in Joel’s behavior—the way he’d started going to church more often, sitting quietly at the back but always there, as if he were trying to keep an eye on someone.

She remembered conversations she’d had with him, And then there was that offhand remark from Tommy at work, about how Joel had started to “smell like a woman.” At the time, it had just been a joke, something Ellie had brushed off as Tommy teasing his brother. But now, it struck her differently.

And then there was that conversation with you and Emma, the one where you had hesitantly asked Emma and her about falling in love with someone. older. Ellie had laughed it off at first, not thinking much of it, but now those words echoed in her mind, each one slotting into place like pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t even realized she was solving.

The realization hit her like a freight train, knocking the breath out of her.

***

When they reached your home, the quiet of the night wrapped around the small house like a blanket. Joel and Ellie helped you inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. Your mother, who had been waiting anxiously, rushed to the door as soon as she saw you, her face pale with worry.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she took in your disheveled appearance, the bruises, the blood. Her hands fluttered helplessly as she looked to Joel for answers.

“There was an accident,” Joel lied smoothly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “She got caught up in a fight between some kids from out of town. It wasn’t her fault, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Your mother’s eyes widened in horror. “A fight? But—”

“It’s okay,” Joel interrupted gently, his gaze steady and reassuring. “She’s going to be okay. I took care of her, and she just needs some rest now.”

You clung to Joel, your hand gripping his shirt as if he were your lifeline. The pain and fear still echoed in your chest, but with Joel there, you felt a small measure of safety. “Please stay,” you whispered, your voice small and pleading.

Joel’s heart clenched at the sound of your voice, and he stroked your hair gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I have something to do, baby,” he murmured. “But I’ll be right back, I promise.”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy as sleep began to pull you under. Joel waited until you were settled in bed, your breathing evening out as you drifted off. Only then did he stand, his eyes lingering on you for a long moment before he turned to your mother.

He walked over to her, his expression serious. “Please,” he said quietly, “don’t tell your husband about this when he comes home tomorrow. She doesn’t need him getting worked up over it, and it won’t help her. Just tell him she had a fall, or something like that.”

Your mother frowned, confusion and concern etched into her features. “But why? He needs to know—”

“Trust me,” Joel cut in, his tone firm. “It’s for the best. I’ll be back in the morning to check on her, I promise.”

After a few more reassurances, Joel finally left with Ellie. The drive back to their house was silent, the air between them thick with unspoken words. When they finally arrived home, Ellie could no longer hold back.

“Joel,” she started, her voice tense as they walked into the house, “what’s going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's going on between you and her?"

Joel froze for a moment, his back to Ellie as he hung up his jacket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, trying to sound casual, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“Don’t lie to me,” Ellie shot back, her voice rising with frustration. “I have eyes, Joel. I saw how you were with her tonight. And it wasn’t just about protecting her—it was more than that."

"She’s... she’s barely older than me! What the hell are you doing?”

Joel finally turned to face her, his expression pained. He knew there was no dodging this, not with the way Ellie was looking at him—like she was trying to make sense of something incomprehensible, something that felt like a betrayal.

“Ellie,” Joel started, his voice low, laden with the weight of his guilt. “I can explain—”

Ellie cut him off, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. “Explain what, Joel? That you’re sick? That you’ve lost your fucking mind? How could you do this? How could you even think about her like that?!”

Joel’s heart ached at the venom in her words, the disgust that he could hear so clearly. “It’s not what you think—”

“It’s exactly what I think!” Ellie shouted, her hands shaking as she tried to comprehend the man standing in front of her. “How could you, Joel? How long has this been going on?"

Ellie’s voice wavered, the anger boiling over as she struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. “How long, Joel? How long have you been doing this behind my back? Behind everyone’s back? She’s just a kid! How could you even think about her like that?”

Joel swallowed hard, his mind racing, searching for the right words, but everything seemed wrong. “Ellie, it’s not... I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just... it just did.”

Ellie’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she processed his response. “We both knew her father beat her, Joel!"

Joel’s heart skipped a beat as Ellie’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Ellie... how do you know about that?” he asked, his voice low, almost fearful of the answer.

Ellie’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’m not blind, Joel. I have eyes. I saw the bruises, the way she flinched when her father was around. And I saw the way she looked at you, the way she leaned on you. That night, dinner at Tommy's I noticed how she clung to you. She was scared, Joel, and I thought you were stepping in to be the father figure she needed. Like you were for me.”

Joel’s chest tightened, the guilt of Ellie’s words cutting deep. He had been so caught up in his own feelings, in his need to protect and care for you, that he hadn’t noticed Ellie was watching, understanding more than he ever gave her credit for.

“But you weren’t just being there for her, were you?” Ellie continued, her voice trembling with accusation. “You were supposed to protect her, Joel. Instead, you... you took advantage of her.”

Joel’s breath hitched, the weight of her accusation pressing down on him like a physical force. “Ellie, no... it wasn’t like that. I protect her,"

Ellie shook her head, disbelief etched into every line of her face. “Protect her? By doing this? By crossing a line that should never have been crossed? How could you, Joel? How could you do this to her?"

Joel’s patience snapped, the fury and desperation he’d been trying to keep in check finally boiling over. “BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE HER!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the house, raw and unfiltered.

Ellie froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at him, wide-eyed. The intensity in his voice, the sheer force of his confession, left her reeling. Joel’s chest heaved with emotion, his eyes wild as he finally let the truth out, the words he’d been too afraid to admit even to himself.

“I love her,” Joel repeated, his voice breaking as the weight of it all crashed down on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. She’s not just some kid to me, Ellie. She’s everything. And I know it’s wrong, I know it’s messed up, but I can’t help it. I love her, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to her.”

Ellie stared at him, her mind racing to process what she’d just heard. The Joel she knew, the man who had become her family, was now a stranger to her in this moment. She could see the pain in his eyes, the sincerity, but it only made it harder to reconcile.

“You’re out of your mind,” Ellie whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fear. “This isn’t love, Joel. It can’t be.”

Joel shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “It is, Ellie. I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I love her, and I’m gonna protect her, no matter what. Even if that means keeping her safe from me.”

She didn’t know what to say. "And I will make sure the person who did this to her pay," Joel said again.

Ellie stared at Joel, her emotions a tangled mess of fear, love, and resignation. Joel had been more than just a guardian to her; he was the closest thing to a father she’d ever known. The thought of losing him, or of watching him spiral into something dangerous, tore at her heart. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a path that could only lead to disaster.

“Joel,” Ellie began, her voice shaky, “I don’t want to lose you. You’re my father, and I love you. But this… what you and she are doing… it scares me. What if her father finds out? He’s not just going to let this slide. What if Tommy finds out? What if the whole town finds out?”

Joel’s face tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right. The risks were enormous, and the consequences could be devastating, not just for him, but for you, for Ellie, for everyone involved. But despite all of that, he couldn’t turn away from what he felt.

“I know, Ellie,” Joel said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I know what could happen, and it scares the hell out of me too. But I can’t… I can’t lose her..."

Ellie looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and something like acceptance. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Joel. I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. And I don’t want to see her hurt either.”

Joel nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll do everything I can to protect her, Ellie. And I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too. I promise.”

Ellie sighed, the fight leaving her as she came to a reluctant acceptance. “If she makes you happy, Joel… then I guess that’s what matters. But please, be careful. This could blow up in your face in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Joel reached out, this time placing a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you,"

note: FUCKKK i think chapter 7 and 8 are shit, i promise i'll be better

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