#I didn't participate but I did walk around with my parents

[toiletpotato]

I'm so excited that Holi is starting to become a more widely celebrated holiday here. A few years ago Diwali was the only South Asian holiday that had a town sponsored event but now Holi is becoming more known and there are at least three different events that I can think of happening soon!!!!

[aestheticaltcow]

Family Ties

I love that the fandom sees Carmy as a girl dad who practices gentle parenting. Gentle parenting is a great parenting style, don't get me wrong. Personally, I can see him butting heads with his teenage daughter like he wants her to express herself- but he also knows that teenage boys are weird and would want to protect her at all costs. This was just a thought I had a couple of days ago, and once I started, I couldn't stop. More Dad!Carmy content to come...

A/N: I didn't realize until I copy pasted this from my Google Drive. This was 6 freakin pages. I like longer fics, I'm sorry.

The Bear Masterlist

Carmy was furious. It took a lot of effort for him to ‘gentle parent’ with you when the kids, Grace and Oliver, were little. Now that both kids are in high school, he wishes he had been harder on them. You reassure him that the two of you have great kids, both work hard in school, participate in extracurricular activities, and aren’t afraid to talk to them about anything - he insisted he should have been harder on them, especially when he gets calls from the school about Oliver getting suspended… again. 

Oliver was 15, and Carmy was convinced he was Mikey's reincarnation. Like you had, he did well in school, but he was Mikey in every other aspect of life. He just needed to get his head out of his ass before out-of-school suspension became stints in jail. 

As Carmy walked down the hall to the principal’s office, he saw Oliver sitting on a bench talking to Grace- Grace, his little girl, granted she wasn’t as little anymore. She’s 17 and looked exactly like you when you were her age- except she had gotten his eyes. “Oliver.” Carmy barked, getting his attention. 

Grace looked at her brother nervously. Carmy wasn’t the kind of Dad to ‘approve’ of her clothing, but he’d fight her on it occasionally, especially regarding crop tops and dresses. It came from a place of caring and not wanting his little girl to get hurt, but Carmy could take it too far.

 Carmy noticed Grace turning the opposite way to get away from the Berzatto boys,

“Grace? Shouldn’t you be in class or somethin’?” Carmy questioned; she stopped in her tracks, knowing Carmy wasn’t in the best mood. She turned around and hoped he was too mad, Oliver, to notice the cropped corset she’d worn to school that day. It’s not like she’d worn it to get a guy to notice her; she’d just liked the contrast of its light green color with her baggy jeans, and she was supposed to match outfits with the rest of the dance team that day so he couldn’t be mad at it- especially since he’d encouraged her to join the dance team freshman year. “Someone texted me that Oli was out here- just wanted to make sure no one beat my baby brother’s ass.” she laughed. Carmy shot her his classic ��I’m your father, I know when you’re lying look’ but shook his head; he was not ready to deal with that. “Put on a sweater.” Grace nodded at Carmy’s casual dislike of her top, “Yes, sir.”

Initially, Carmy was going to let it slide. He knew Grace was 17, she was going to college next year, and he wouldn’t be able to encourage her to make the right decision anymore, but while she was under his roof, she’d live by his rules. You laughed when he brought it up to you that night in bed. “Carmy, she’s a good kid. Gracie has good grades. She has good friends. She works; if she wants to wear a crop top, she can wear a crop top.” Carmy sighed. He saw the point you’d been trying to make with that explanation but wasn’t happy.

Grace hoped Carmy wouldn’t bring up her wardrobe, but unfortunately, she was wrong. Carmy had hired an older brother of one of Grace’s friends at The Bear- that’s how he’d found out about Grace’s non-family Instagram account. She hadn’t posted anything too scandalous; there were some pictures from parties where she was holding a red Solo cup, a few from a dance competition after-party where she’d been wearing something Carmy wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house in, and of course the soft launch of her relationship. He was seething; you hadn’t known about the account either- you’d heard Grace talk to her cousins about a boy she liked, but the drinking and parties also surprised you. 

“Carmy, you neeeeed to be careful with how you speak to Grace about this,” you emphasized through the phone. Of course, this would come up when you were out of town. “Baby, I’ll handle it.” “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Do not, I repeat, do not shame our daughter. You can tell her you’re unhappy-” “I’ll handle it.” he hung up, and you knew you’d be walking into a shit storm when you returned home.

“Fuck off, Dad!” Grace screamed as she slammed her bedroom door. To say Carmy mishandled the situation would be an understatement; he stood outside Grace’s door, immediately regretting what he’d said about Grace. He questioned her character; he knew she was a good kid; he wanted to knock on her door and apologize, but Grace didn’t want to hear it.

Oliver sat in his bedroom and heard Carmy and Grace yell at each other throughout the weekend. He laughed when he realized Carmy double-downed on what he’d initially said about Grace ‘not being that kind of girl.’ and how people would ‘never take her seriously’ when he dropped the word ‘whore’ he knew there would be hell when you came home. The front door slammed, and he heard Carmy yell ‘fuck’ and slam a door. He looked out his bedroom window to see Grace running up the street. Oliver sighed and fished his phone out of his pocket; “Oli fuck off.” Grace huffed before immediately hanging up on him. He rolled his eyes and dialed your number. “Hi baby, everything okay?” “Nope.”

The house was antagonistic. Carmy was pissed at himself, you and Grace were also pissed at him, and Oliver managed to sink into the background. The family dinners you’d shared were typically full of conversation and life, but tonight was awkwardly silent. Oliver decided he’d take a crack at making it better, “Uncle Richie got to 100 Instagram followers. He’s pretty excited about it.” no one took the bait. He poked at the chicken on his plate, “Good dinner, am I right?” he grinned, looking around the table. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Grace?” you called after her. She ignored your question and went upstairs. “Well, I think it’s a good dinner- conversation wasn’t the best, but… we’ll get through it.” Oliver tried to lighten the tension in the room, but he inevitably failed, and Carmy told him to go to his room. Oliver obliged, taking his and Grace’s plates to the sink before shuffling upstairs. He walked past Grace’s room on the way. He paused and stood before the door; it was too quiet. He knocked softly before opening the door; she was gone.

“I just don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed.” Grace vented as she lay beside Eva in the park by her apartment, “My dad was the same way, except he threw my clothes away. My mom ripped him a new one over it.” “Should I accept his apology and move out as soon as possible?” Eva shook her head and laughed at the suggestion. “Gracie, you know what you need to do.” Grace sighed, knowing her cousin was right. She sat up and pushed her hair back. “I’m gonna hide out at Danny’s house. Cover for me?” “Of course. Don’t get pregnant.” 

“Gracie girl? Can I come in, honey?” you asked outside her door, but there was no response. “Baby, please?” you asked again. “She’s not home,” Oliver said, walking past you to the bathroom. “What do you mean she’s not home?” he shrugged. “I guess she snuck out after dinner.”. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before walking into your and Carmy’s bedroom, “You have to fix this, Carmen.” you scolded in your best mom voice he’d heard a thousand times, granted it was typically directed at one of the kids. “Baby, how can-” “Carmen. If you ever want to be inside me again, you’ll fix this.” Carmy leaned back against the headboard; he didn’t think something like this could be fixed. 

“Oh, hi, Grace.” Danny’s mom greeted her when she realized she was sitting on the couch with Danny. “Hi, Mrs. De Luca.” she smiled back, “How are you, sweetheart?” Grace shrugged at the question, “Been better.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” she frowned before turning her attention to her son “Danny. I need you to take Annie to school tomorrow morning, okay? I’m doin’ an overnight.” Danny nodded in acknowledgment. She smiled again and quickly ran out of the house, leaving Danny and Grace in the living room and Danny’s sister Annie upstairs, tucked into bed. 

“So. What’s goin on with you?” Danny finally asked. He wasn’t mad that she’d come over unannounced, but it was obvious that Grace had been crying. Grace shrugged at the question, “Guess I just wanted to see you.” Danny scoffed. “Grace. Com’ on. You only come over on weeknights when you’re upset.” “Do not.” Grace challenged, leaning into his side. “I will tickle it out of you, baby. You should just tell me what’s up.” he insisted, sitting up slightly. Grace groaned and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She told him that she and Carmy were fighting about her ‘secret online life that everyone can see’ and how ‘she’s not that kind of girl,’ so why was she pretending to be? She was hesitant to include the part where Carmy had called her a whore, but as she looked at Danny’s sympathetic face, she couldn’t hold back. “The house is awkward- Oli tried to make a joke out of it, but it was just so fuckin’ annoying. I’m just disappointed in myself… he’s never mad at me, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I get that. What me to beat him up for callin’ you a whore? You know I will.” Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Carmy sat outside on the porch smoking when he saw headlights coming in his direction; it was almost 2 in the morning. He sighed and took a final puff before ashing his cigarette. He assumed it was Grace, and he was correct. He heard her say her goodbyes to whoever dropped her off and waited for her to come up the driveway. “Hi, Grace.” he greeted, his lips pulling into a tight line due to their growing awkwardness. “Dad,” she responded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Where were you?” “With Eva.” Carmy nodded. “Can I talk to you?” Grace shrugged and moved closer to Carmy. “I want to apologize, Gracie. I shouldn’t have said that about you. You have a good head on those shoulders- but I don’t want you to get hurt. Girls who posted stuff like that online when I was 17… you know what happened. Rumors and shit- I just don’t want people doin' that to you.” he explained, scratching at the back of his neck. Grace nodded, taking in what he’d said. “I understand, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can handle myself; if I can’t, Danny has my back.” Carmy nodded, “We good?” he asked, looking down at Grace. He smiled when he saw her pulling her sleeves over her hands like when she was a little girl and felt uneasy. “We’re good.” Grace agreed. Carmy brought her into a lazy hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, always.” Grace smiled and hugged Carmy back, “I love you too, Dad.”

As the two went inside, Carmy remembered something she’d said, “Who’s Danny?” Grace stopped and looked up at Carmy cautiously. “Uh… he’s my- my boyfriend…”

[purplecoffee13]

Dangerous Love*

Summary: You know Harry’s dangerous, but isn’t that what makes it all the more exciting?

Wc: 5.3k

Tropes: POSSESSIVENESS, mafia!harry, friends-with-benefits-to-lovers, forbidden love

Warnings: degradation, slight BDSM, daddy!kink, edging & overstimulation if you squint

A/N: Yeah… about this one. I- I’ll just be in the corner, thinking about my actions…

THIS HASN’T BEEN PROOFREAD, I’LL DO THAT LATER!!!

#####

You had sworn off Harry months ago. When you found out he had been participating in some... illegal activities, it was over.

Your family was powerful, important, and most of all very clean. Harry Styles had been trying to make it in the real estate business as well, but there had been talk going around, talk of odd situations and fishy circumstances.

Your family had told you to not interact with him or any of his family on a voluntary basis, and to not hold the conversation on too long if confronted with his family anyway.

Now, you were never one to listen to your family. You had always advocated against prejudice and you firmly believed that one should never judge a book by its cover. And out of all people, you really didn't expect Harry to be the person to prove her wrong.

In the months that you had gotten to know each other at events, it had become clear that you were attracted to each other, so you two set up a relationship. A friends with benefits relationship, that was. Knowing that anything else would be too complicated, this was the best option.

It was thrilling, doing something that was wrong, while feeling so right.

But when one day you found a huge stash of coke in Harry's basement, you retreated your entire relationship with him. You couldn't have the demolition of the family weighing on your shoulders, purely out of sexual needs.

You had held up this attitude on for quite a while. It had been three months. Sure, you hadn't shared the bed with anyone because you were secretly afraid that no else would ever live up to Harry, but that was besides the point.

It was besides the point that he knew every one of your kinks and the perfect way to play into them. And it certainly didn't keep you staring at him during the entirety of this charity gala that was held at his mansion tonight.

Nope, didn't bother your at all

Despite what you had seen, Harry had built legitimacy in the last months and people had started to slowly learn to trust him. Your parents were still skeptic about him (rightfully so), but the rest of the community had already warmed up to the Styles family.

It hadn't been easy to keep your eyes off Harry, especially with him dressed in that all black suit of his. It was certainly a sight to see and you had almost spilled champagne on yourself the first time you got lost in his eyes. You didn't miss the way his mouth quirked up. He knew.

The entire evening went slow, and you tried not to look to disinterested when your date, a guy that your parents had tried to match you with, asked you to dance. You politely accepted and did your best not to yawn as he talked about some 'impressive' business deal he made.

Then, suddenly, someone tapped on his shoulder and asked to borrow you for a dance. Naturally, your date accepted the request from none other than Harry, and soon you found yourself dancing with him.

You'd tried your best to keep your distance, but it was really hard, mainly because he had a really tight grip on your waist. His face was leaning against the side of yours, and you heard him inhaling your perfume. You didn't dare close your eyes, you were afraid someone would see how much you were secretly enjoying this moment.

When the dance came to an end, Harry whispered something to you.

"Meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes."

Without another word, he kissed your hand and let you go, walking away to entertain some guests. You returned to your family, who asked if everything was alright and you confirmed that it was.

After five minutes of eagerly waiting, you excused yourself from your family, claiming to visit the ladies room and then step outside for some fresh air.

Instead, you took a different route and quietly headed upstairs until you had reached the bedroom. You sat down on the king sized bed and waited in agony, but soon enough the door clicked open.

For a second you were afraid it was someone else, but those worries flew out the window the moment you saw Harry's satisfied grin at the sight of you sitting on his bed.

"I knew you'd come." He stalked towards me. "You'll always come back to me."

You just looked up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. You still weren’t sure what you were doing here, all you knew is that you needed to see him again.

"Did you come here with a date?" He asked in a soft tone, caressing your cheek as he leaned down to be on eye to eye level with you.

You didn't say anything, simply leaning your head into his hand and closing you eyes. There was no one to see you now, so it was safe to enjoy his touch.

"Answer me."

"Yes... I did."

"And yet, you're here. Sitting in front of me, knowing what I'm going to do, now that I have you to myself." He kept his tone sweet, but the contradiction of his dominant words made your heat throb.

"Harry–"

You were cut off by his hand flying to your neck, slightly choking you before you could finish your sentence.

"I don't remember that we agreed on that name, now did we?"

Dramatic ass.

"Sir... please. I've missed you, I've felt so empty without you." You immediately began to plead, automatically playing into his sexual preferences. Harry liked to be in control and you liked to give it to him. There was no one who could do it like he could.

"Poor little thing, have you been so deprived?" He rhetorically asked, to which you immediately started to nod. He gave a little squeeze with his hand, tightening his grip around your neck before resuming to the looser grip it had before. There was no stopping the whines that fell from your lips, they just happened.

"Yeah, you fucking did that to yourself, didn't you? When you walked away from me." Harry's tone had lowered and he sounded very frustrated, he sounded angry.

"Didn't you?"

"I did, sir." You complied, your submissive side taking over completely. It was very easy for you to give into him, especially because you knew what you'd get in return.

"So?" He pushed further, wanting you to apologize to him for making the both of you suffer for so long.

"'M sorry, sir." Your doe eyes met his blown pupils, and you felt yourself getting wetter with every passing second just from the feeling of his rings against your neck. Harry chuckled at your apology, and you could have expected the words that came out of his mouth next.

"I don't think you’re sorry, darling." He smirked at you, letting go of his hold on you and walking to the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He sat himself down, spreading his legs wide open and rubbing over his thighs.

"I am!" You turned your head towards him, annoyed with the fact that he was discrediting your words.

"Then take off your dress, get on your knees and show me you're fucking sorry."

You couldn't have possibly been quicker to take off your clothes. Harry leaned back in his chair with lit up eyes as you sank to the ground and got on hands and knees. There was no missing the bulge that grew more painful with every inch that you came closer.

You loved these kinds of moments, those were you knew you affected him just as much as he did you.

He simply waited as you un-did his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Only when you pulled his pants down a little bit did he shuffle along to get in a comfortable position. His cock sprung out of his underwear, and from the looks of it he was painfully hard.

You had missed his cock. You had missed the way it felt in your hands, in your mouth, in your pussy. The ragged sigh that fell from your lips was one of desperation. You couldn't wait to have him inside of you again, but you knew you had to work for it.

With a desperate expression on your face, you darted your eyes up to Harry, waiting to see if he had any instructions you should follow. You practically melted at the way when sat there, leaned back with his head resting on his palm.

"Go ahead." He encouraged, and that was enough for you to spit on your hand and start stroking his length. Harry's jaw clenched in an instant and his body shifted just a tiny bit at your touch, but you noticed it nonetheless.

A breath of relief came all the way back from his throat, and it induced every bit of your confidence to see him crumble at your touch. You kept stroking him for a bit before you decided that enough was enough, you needed him in your mouth.

Reaching closer, you softly planted your lips  against his throbbing erection, and heard him gasp at the feeling of it. You spent the first few moments focusing on his sensitive tip and massaging his balls before pulling away from his hard shaft completely.

He had only opened his eyes halfway when you licked a stripe all the way from the base of his cock to the tip, and then took him in your mouth. His sudden body spasm caused his cock to dig deeper into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You moaned loudly, knowing you'd be completely drenched through your panties if he'd repeat his actions.

Harry hadn't missed your extremely loud and arousing reaction to him accidentally shoving his dick further up your throat. He had always just let you suck his dick. Out of the many things you'd tried together, he had never fucked your face before.

He was satisfied to hear you yell against his cock when he did it again.

"Do you like choking on my cock, sweetheart?" He questioned, bucking his hips when you squeezed his balls a bit. In retaliation, he gathered your hair together and wrapped it around his head.

"Let's see how well you can get me off, huh?" He grinned before pushing your head down on his cock. You focused on breathing through your nose as he used you as if he was using his own hands, and you loved it.

The noises that came out of your mouth were desperate and almost embarrassing. You looked up at Harry, who had his head thrown back as he went crazy with working himself up to an orgasm.

"You're such a fucking desperate cock slut. J-Just for me..." He talked to you, but mainly to get closer to his orgasm. You kept on touching his balls and let him use you to work himself to his high.

"Ah, I'm gonna cum– Fuck!" In the middle of his sentence, Harry's tight grip on your hair loosened and you felt the first spurts of his cum shoot through your throat. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling proud of yourself for making him come so fast.

He pulled your head away from his cock and stroke his hand over your hair until it looked slightly less messy.

Without so much as a word, he put on his pants again and got out of his seat. He grabbed your wrist and guided you to his bed, where he ordered you to sit with your back leaned against the bed frame.

You patiently waited as he rummaged through his drawer and turned around with two ties in his hand. You tried to hide the grin that formed on your face, you knew this meant you were going to have great sex.

Whenever Harry did anything that involved bondage, it meant that you were going to have a great orgasm. You both got so turned on from it, and you had no idea why.

You obeyed him sweetly when he ordered you to hold your hands up, and looked at him with fond eyes as he tied your to his bed and blindfolded you. After the knot was secured, you heard his footsteps walking towards what you assumed to be the end of the bed.

"You look so pathetic, totally at my mercy. Be a good girl and stay still for me until I'm back." He bragged, drenching your core with his dirty words, until you realized what he was saying.

"Until you're back–" You couldn't even finish your sentence before the door slammed to interrupt it.

You couldn't believe it. Was he going to make you wait here? Tied up and blindfolded? What a fucking dick.

The wait was excruciating, especially considering your lack of knowledge about when he'd be back. It felt like hours, even though you knew it wasn't, maybe one hour. Nonetheless you suffered as you waited until Harry was choosing to come back to make you feel good.

You did realize how wrong it was to be so aroused by the fact that he used you like a rag doll, but you were also aware that your kinks didn't define anything about you in your day to day life. It was a sexual preference and it didn't say anything about you as a person.

The relief was insane when you heard the bedroom door open and a pair of footsteps graced the wooden floors.

"I got your phone, love." You heard Harry's footsteps stalk towards you. "Texted your mother and said you went home early because you were feeling sick."

"Thank you, sir."

At this point, you'd do and say anything for an orgasm, including thanking him for everything he did.

"Such good manners, darlin'. I think you should put those to use and inform your little date that you're not interested anymore, or ever were in the first place."

You hummed in agreement. You had never liked Dylan, and this was a good excuse to get him out of the way. Harry took your blindfold off, and though the soft light was harsh on your eyes, you were glad you could finally see him.

What you hadn't expected, though, was for Harry to actually call Dylan with your phone and lay the device next to you. You instantly started freaking out.

"Right now?!" You exclaimed, stressed and hoping Dylan wouldn't pick up.

"Yes." Harry answered like it was the most logical thing in the world.

"But–"

"Tell him or I won't let you cum." He barked, and just as he finished his sentence, Dylan picked up, and Harry went down.

His mouth touched your heat the second you heard a 'hello' through your phone's speaker.

"Dylan, hi!" You said breathily.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere. Where are you?" He asked. The worry in his voice made Harry roll his eyes. He might have thought you couldn't see it, but during sex you would never keep your eyes off of Harry for even one second, and that included today.

"Oh.. I-I went home early. 'M not feeling so good!" You shrieked when Harry suddenly started to kitten lick your clit. The fucker really wanted you to slip up.

"Are you okay?"

"No! Yes! I mean, I almost tripped but I'm fine." You quickly made up an excuse. You couldn't tell if your cheeks were red from extreme embarrassment or plain arousal. Probably both.

"Okay. D'you want me to come over?"

As soon as those words left Dylan's mouth, Harry pulled away and spanked your clit, making your hips buck and let out a yelp.

"Hello?"

"N-no! I wanted to talk to you about that..." you said, and the whiny tone in your voice sounded like you were getting emotional over it, when in reality you were just frustrated with Harry teasing you so much. "I don't think we should date anymore."

"What? Why not? Did I do something?"

"I just–" I looked down at Harry, who raised his brows at me, which meant 'go on, tell him'.

"I'm... with somebody else."

"Wait what?" The aggression in Dylan's voice made Harry stop in his tracks. He got off the bed and sat next to you before slipping in two fingers without warning. You let out a gasp, quite literally crumbling at his touch, but he was focused on the phone call, a deep crease between his brows as he listened to Dylan.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me that three dates ago?"

Harry's eyes darted towards you, waiting for your answer. It seemed like he was genuinely curious about what you had to say.

"It's complicated, okay? I just– I can't date you anymore, I belong to someone else now."

You couldn't bring yourself to keep your eyes open as you answered Dylan. It was true, you did belong to Harry. You could pretend all you want but at the end of the day he was right, you'd always come back to him. Dylan could listen for all you cared, you just needed Harry inside of you.

"I don't think it's complicated, I just think you're a slu—”

Suddenly, the phone call stopped.

Your eyes shot open, and you were met with the sight of Harry throwing your phone on the chair next to the bed.

With a bit of tension in your stomach from the words you'd uttered just before, you watched as Harry pulled his fingers out of you and made his way back to his former position, with his head between your legs.

He didn't say anything, he just put his tongue on your clit and started flicking mercilessly while simultaneously shoving three fingers inside of you. You screamed out at the sudden motion, giving your wrists a hard tug against the knotted tie around them.

Your back arched as you felt your high nearing. You didn't think you would have the ability to wait until you got verbal permission from Harry to come, but the way he was attacking your clit seemed like permission enough.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm gonna cum, 'm gonna– oh my god! Please!" You rambled on and on, feeling the need to beg for a release anyway. It was like your body didn't allow you to do anything unless he said so.

"Please, please... daddy, please!" The desperate cries made him moan out, the vibrations on your clit sending shocks through your body. He ripped his mouth away from you and replaced it with his finger which rubbed dizzily fast circles on your clit.

"C'mon, soak my fingers baby."

His taunting voice was the last thing you heard before a high pitched ringing took over, and you could've sworn you blacked out for a second. The pulsating waves of pleasure took over your entire body from head to toe, and soon enough you realized what was happening.

You had just squirted all over the bed, and Harry.

Your entire body felt exhausted from this orgasm alone, and you found yourself wondering how the hell you were going to survive tonight because you knew it wouldn't be the last one.

"Fucking hell." Harry breathed a soft chuckle of pride, taking off his now wet dress shirt. "I've never been able to get you to do that before."

"I've never been able to do that before, ever." I laughed along, flabbergasted at how good that felt. Harry just smiled, a real smile, before he crawled over you and undid the knot that tied you to the bed. He threw the tie to the side and leaned forwards to cup your face before kissing you. You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him against you even more. As your tongues circled around each other, Harry slowly switched positions until he was laying besides you .

The kiss lasted a while, and it held a newfound passion to it that you hadn't experienced in your previous times kissing Harry. When he pulled away, he kept himself quiet, scanning every feature in your face while his thumb stroked your cheek.

"Did you mean that?" He finally spoke up.

"What?" You slightly tilted your head, confused with his soft tone all of a sudden. You weren't used to this version of him.

"That you're mine."

"Harry, I—"

"Because I want you to be. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours, if you'll have me." He confessed, and you could've sworn you felt yourself melt into the bed.

Your parents were going to disown you. You were going to get kicked out of the house and have nothing left but the words of an unpredictable man.

There had never been a clearer, better answer for this, and yet you found yourself still wanting to say the exact opposite.

"My parents hate you, Harry. And for the right reasons. Your life... it's dangerous. I shouldn't be getting sucked into that." You began talking, and saw the way he lost hope for a positive answer.

Suddenly, you rolled over so that the both of you were flipped, and you were sitting on his lap. He laid there, eyes a bit wide at you suddenly taking charge. He was obviously curious to see where it was going, otherwise he wouldn't have let you.

"I know all of this..." You leaned forwards stroking your hands through his hair. "And I still can't keep my hands off of you."

With those words you pulled at his roots, making Harry wince under you. His jaw was slacked, and he felt confused with how arousing this was. Harry had never been in any other position than the dominant one, nothing else had ever turned him on before, except for this, for you.

"I know I shouldn't, but I still can't stop myself from craving your big, sweet cock." You continued, taking off your bra and smirking at the way his tattooed chest rose up and down quickly sight of your bare breasts. You lifted yourself up a bit, getting your pussy in line with the tip of his cock.

"And I can't help but–" you cut yourself off with a loud moan as you sank on his hard and long shaft. Slowly but surely, you began to grind back and forth, getting comfortable with his length again as it had been a while.

"Oh! Mmm, fuck!" You cried out.

"Look at you—" Harry leaned on his elbows, looking up at you with fond eyes. "fucking yourself with my cock. Does that feel good, baby?"

"Mm.. ah– it feels so good sir." You were panting now, overwhelmed with how good it felt to have him inside of you again. You started bouncing yourself on his dick to get some tempo into it.

"Such pretty tits." He mumbled, fondling them and pinching your nipples. "All mine, baby?"

He couldn't help but ask, you didn't finish your little speech after all because you were too desperate for his cock.

"Tell me." He encouraged, spanking your ass with his right hand, which made you sink down on his cock very swiftly. "Are you mine, now?"

You moaned and cried and whined, but still managed to conjure a slight smirk on your face as you looked at him.

"Make me yours, daddy."

That was enough for Harry, and before you knew it, you were pulled off his cock and thrown on the bed, laying on your stomach.

In an instant, you felt your lips being lifted up and his cock being sunk into you again. Harry leaned forward to grab your worst and hold them on your back, before nearly pulling out and then ramming himself into you at an ungodly pace. It caused a high pitched scream to leave your mouth, something which did not happen often during sex for you.

"That's right, take it." he kept his quick pace steady as you gasped from under him. "Whose fucking pussy is this, hmm? I wanna hear you say it."

Your sounds were slightly muffled by the pillow and therefore incomprehensible, so he leaned over and grabbed your neck, choking you as he pulled your head up.

"C'mon, who owns you?"

"You do! Fuck! You own me, daddy, I'm yo– oh! 'M yours!" Your answer came out like it was word vomit. You couldn't stop saying everything he wanted to hear, and he loved it. He got off on your submission to him, on the way you let him be in control. He'd never admit it, but the main reason he took such a liking to it is because it showed that you trusted him despite what you knew about him.

He kept pounding into you, and smirking when he felt your core clenching against his cock already.

"You gonna cum already?"

"Mm.. yesss!"

"Pathetic little cock slut... you just love getting used, don't you?"

When you didn't answer, he spanked you, hard.

"I do! I do, sir!" You quickly replied, your ears ringing from the stinging pain on your bum.

"You know you're nothing more than a hole for me to use at any time I want. My filthy little whore. All mine, forever." It was now Harry's turn to start rambling, and he almost lost himself, but quickly regained traction. He wasn't done with you, and he couldn't permit himself to cum yet.

You did cum, though. The moment the word 'forever' left his mouth, you exploded, in every way possible. You entire body was spasming and Harry slowed himself down as you creamed his cock. The sounds of your intercourse become more adamant now that there was more... liquid involved, and hearing Harry's cock in your pussy was the definition of arousal for you.

Harry didn't exactly let you ride out your high, instead pushing you fully down on the bed and flipping your body so you were laying on your sides. He held his hands firmly on your hips as he went to lay down behind you.

You were quite surprised with the position, it was something you two had never done before. Harry always deemed positions like that to be too intimate, so it felt out of the ordinary for him to have you like this, but now that you were being really intimate it also felt way better.

The groan leaving Harry's throat when he pushed himself inside you again confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. Your jaw was slacked, euphoria shooting through your body at the feeling of the new angle and a certain spot he managed to hit very easily.

"O-oh my..." The half-sentence escaped your lips before you could even think about what you were saying.

"Did I hit your sweet spot, baby? Is that right?" Harry taunted. His body was entirely pressed up against yours, and you could hear him panting against your neck.

"Yeah— Fuck!"

Your response was interrupted by Harry, who decided that it was the perfect timing for him to get in an extra hard thrust. Solely that action had almost made you come, and while you felt it slowing down quickly afterwards, it didn't take long to rise again when he started kissing your neck.

You turned your head around with the energy you had left, and pleaded for him to kiss you, to which he happily obliged. The taste of him against your lips, the feeling of him inside of you and the sound of his skin slapping against yours proved too much for you to bare, but you desperately wanted to try and come undone at the same time. And so, you pulled away from Harry's soft lips to whisper some dirty words right back to him.

"Harry, baby..." you said in a whiny voice, causing him to moan. You knew he wouldn't approve of you just calling him Harry between the sheets, you were taking a risk with this, but luckily he didn't mind.

In fact, he was going mad. Those words sounded so good coming from your mouth, especially now he knew that they were directed to him.

"Wh-what is it, darling?" He tried to keep his composure, almost exploding at the mere sight of you looking so fucked out.

"I want you to cum, daddy... with me. Please? I've been so good." You requested, putting up your best puppy eyes. Harry winced at your words, knowing there was no holding him back now.

"I'll fill you up, baby. Get yourself there again, then." He managed to say, rocking into you more slowly, but with more impact. It was easier to keep up at least some rhythm this way.

You guided your hand to your sensitive clit and started rubbing it ferociously. You're were aware of the fact that Harry wasn't going to be able to hold it in for much longer. With how aroused you were, you didn't think it to be much of a problem. Harry's right hand had traveled to your tits in the mean time, massaging them harshly while he resumed rocking into you. And just like clockwork, you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm again.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy! Ahh!!" You screamed out shamelessly, unable to stop yourself from rubbing your clit. It was as if your fingers were glued to your vagina, you couldn't deny yourself from this orgasm. The way your pussy was pulsating was also noted by Harry, who was growling like an animal. He became more and more aggressive with how hard he was fucking into you, the entire bed shaking from the impact.

"Jesus fuck— I'm coming, I'm— argh!" the string of incoherent words left his mouth as your body bounced along to his slamming thrusts. Soon enough, you heard some exhausted moans coming from Harry as he fucked himself through his orgasm. The beautiful sounds from your now-boyfriend were the final thing that brought you to your third climax of the night.

You screamed out in ecstasy, as the pulsating waved of pleasure took you away for a second. It felt like all your sense had shut off for those moments, and that there was nothing else but immense pleasure.

Harry came inside you, filling your walls with his cum. It felt too good to be true, especially combined with the guttural grunts coming from the back of his throat as he buried his head into your neck. When you noticed the grip on your hips had become less firm, you knew that he was slowly coming down from his orgasm. You both were both still panting, and kept silent as Harry carefully pulled himself out of you.

The empty feeling you had was made up for by a ton of kisses to your neck and your cheek, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Are you okay, baby?" Harry asked. No matter how many times you guys shared the bed, you would never not get butterflies from his attentiveness after the sex. He'd do everything you asked. Hell, he'd run around town looking for everything you need if he had to.

"Never been better." You turned your head to look at him; you wanted him to know that it wasn't some sarcastic comment. In fact, you were ecstatic with the fact that whatever was going on between the two of you was now settled.

"Can't believe you're mine now." He sighed, his face painted with a smile so big that you could see his dimples from miles away. He planted a kiss to your swollen lips and ran his hands through your messy hair.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me forever." You teased, your hand now also finding his brown locks.

"Hmm, best life sentence I could ask for."

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 7.8k words]

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

In which, even after he broke your friendship, Ominis can't get you out of his head.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, Scriptorium quest, Muggle culture, Your Scent in the Amortentia, Going Feral when You're Hurt, Comforting You When You're Sad.

[PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

2: When Everything Changed

You didn't speak to him for a long time.

Justifiably, Ominis knows. It's one thing to insult, degrade, demean someone, but something else entirely to diminish their very existence, to reduce them to flesh and bones and happenstance. You were Muggle-born, he was pure-blood. Your friendship together was as tenuous as life itself.

You didn't deserve risk, so he steeled his heart, his mind. He moved through the struggles of fourth year silently, like a wraith, participating only when needed. A clock was ticking for summer – he couldn't spend the entire holiday at Feldcroft, though he longed for it, though Sebastian offered. When the dread of it came, thick and drowning, it was the thought of you, what he was doing ultimately to protect you, that eased the pain. He didn't realise how deeply you had planted your vines inside him, so that everything he did now, anything he felt, or touched, or tasted, reminded him of you. You were ingrained, and no matter how hard he tried to uproot you, you would not wither.

Perhaps this was his reality now. Perhaps he would never speak to you again.

Naturally, fifth year changed everything.

The new school year rang with tension. A goblin tyrant, Ranrok, sought vengeance against wizardkind, with his influence strongest around the Scottish Highlands, scattered around the hamlets around Hogwarts. His plans were unclear, just another thing Ominis worried about, massaging his temple on the walk up to school for the first evening.

Sebastian wasn't in a talkative mood. He'd come to verbal blows with his uncle that afternoon, when Ominis was packing and keeping Anne company. Their voices were so raised they could be heard in the entire village.

"Stop getting her hopes up! For goodness sake, she's cursed. At least let her enjoy however long she has left in peace, without your meddling!"

"Meddling?" Sebastian scoffed. "She's my sister! I'll find a cure for her—"

"If St Mungo's Healers can't do it, no fifteen year-old boy will either."

"You might've given up, but I haven't."

"I've stopped trying to fill her head with false hope and nonsense!"

Anne's lethargic sigh had pulled Ominis away. "I'm so tired."

"You should rest."

"No." She fell back against the pillow. "I mean, of their arguing."

Truthfully, Ominis was tired of it too. He heard enough hatred at home, the few lonely weeks he had to spend there before absconding to Feldcroft. For the most part, his parents ignored him, though there were days they dragged him to dinners or parties with the other pure-blood families. He made sure to give the Malfoys as wide a berth as possible, even though Peregrine didn't bother him again.

"Can you promise me something, Ominis?" Anne had asked.

He'd pursed his lips. "That depends on what it is."

"You'll keep an eye on Sebastian this year." A wry laugh. "A metaphorical eye, that is."

He always intended to. The darkness was offering Sebastian solace, and he feared his best friend was diving down a path from which there was no return. How far would he be willing to go for Anne?

"I'll do my best."

"And... and talk to Gibby."

He hadn't heard your name all summer. It sent a frisson through him, equally terrifying and pleasant, and made to leave before an inevitable interrogation—

"Please," she said, stopping him. "Sometimes family isn't blood. Sometimes family is heart. And she is as much a part of yours as the rest of us are."

Yet, when he left with Sebastian an hour later, he adamantly reminded himself why he made that pact in the first place. He could not— would not talk to you, and rub raw a healing wound. Things were simply too dangerous to risk it, if not from Peregrine Malfoy, then from one of the other pure-blood families, the Lestranges, the Blacks, or the Fawleys.

When he and Sebastian arrived at the school, sun hushing the horizon, Ominis paid no mind to the knowledge that you were there, somewhere at the Hufflepuff table, enjoying the start of term without him. He took his seat next to his best friend and expected the same opening speech, Sorting Ceremony and feast.

Only there was one thing different.

Missy was what everyone called her. The nickname was sparked by rumour, as thick as honey – unlike yours, spurred by your actions, your quirks, Missy's had come before her, on the train up to Hogwarts, where all the fifth years spoke of a new student starting this year under the mentorship of Professor Fig.

Staring school so late, with the support of a prominent Hogwarts professor? That was unusual, she was unusual. A mystery.

Only when she appeared at the Sorting Ceremony, late, it was apparent she was anything but.

"There she is," Nerida crowed in the hum of chatter. "The new girl!"

"Her hair is amazing," said Violet, awed.

Ominis heard the new girl – like you, she had a distinctive set of sounds he could use to distinguish her from others. But unlike you, however, there was no naivety, no jolliness or upbeat wonder. There was only purpose, strong with each stride and levelled breath. Even as the interloper, and a late one at that, she acted like she already belonged.

His heart ached suddenly – the memory of the Undercroft tore at him, and he fought to keep it down, push away the strange sensation that came with thinking of you.

When the new girl was sorted into Slytherin, she sat next to Sebastian. "Hello." Her voice was distinctive too, well-spoken, eloquent, from wealth.

"The mystery student," Imelda said, clearly more impressed than she let on. "The whole year's been talking about you."

"Have they?" She didn't seem bothered by this at all. "Is that what I am? A mystery?"

"A real lady of mystery," said Sebastian, equally intrigued.

"Oh," said the mystery student, chuckling – Ominis caught threads of a sinister undertone. "I'm no lady. Miss is just fine."

"Well, then, Miss Mystery," Sebastian teased, "welcome to Hogwarts."

Ominis was too polite to ask what her real name was. It was too late now, anyway. The nickname stuck like mud, too fitting for a girl with an air of something otherworldly and powerful to be displaced. Your laughter bubbled in his head – maybe she would come to love the nickname as you did.

But there was no point thinking about you anymore. No point imagining what the future beheld for you.

Later that month, Ominis asked after what Missy looked like, if only to build a better picture of how different you were to one another, but Sebastian had only laughed.

"I'd tell you, but she changes her hair and eyes every day. Always in Snelling's Emporium. And her robes – she's never wearing them! Every class we go to she just puts on capes and hats and all sorts. It's a mismatch."

A very strange girl indeed, but not in the same way you were, in the same way you still are.

As the air began to chill, Ominis felt the change in his friend like frigid air on bare skin. He was warming to the new girl, more rapidly than Ominis expected – she invited him to Hogsmeade, joined his secret duelling club, stole him for night-time escapades and thirsted for knowledge only he could give. It seemed harmless enough at first, but the new girl had a particular sway, popular but not needy with the attention, mysterious but still generous with her time, and genial with her friends. Especially with Sebastian.

Worst of all, you were becoming her friend too. She was like the replacement for what you'd lost.

"Amortentia." Professor Sharp's voice carried through the Potions classroom one day, as October crept up the front lawns. "I'm sure you're all familiar with this, but for our new student's sake, could someone please refresh us on its properties?"

Unsurprisingly, Garreth spoke up. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells different to everyone according to what most attracts them."

"Very good. This is a potion we will be learning to brew in seventh year. As Mr Weasley has said, this is the most powerful love potion in the world." The last part he emphasised seriously. "It is not to be trifled with. Today, we will be brewing weaker love potions, but I am allowing you all to see for yourself the properties of Amortentia, so that you may recognise it outside the classroom. Dare I say, so you can protect yourself should anyone try to use it on you."

Sharp allowed them to gander at the potion as they brewed their own. The fifth-year girls were most excited, and as Ominis prepared his ingredients, the Hufflepuffs plus Missy headed up to the main station to have their turn.

Of course, you were amongst that group.

"Well, Missy?" you asked, as eager and animated as he remembered you to be. "What does it smell like?"

Missy took a whiff, then laughed.

"Secrets."

"Secrets don't have a scent," said Lenora haughtily.

"They do to me." She stood back, let you go ahead. "Go on then, Gibby, your turn. What does it smell like to you?"

Ominis struggled not to listen.

"Sweets." Of course it did. "Magic. You know, just the general scent of it. And..." Your voice turned tart. "Oil."

The giggling ceased. "Oil?" asked Adelaide.

"Oil," you confirmed, in a way that brooked no space for discussion.

What an absurd thing to find attractive. Did oil even have a scent? He pondered on this for a while, trying to untangle its meaning until their potions were neatly bubbling and Sebastian nudged him out of his thoughts.

"Want to go up next?"

They went after Everett declared his favourite scent to be broom handles ("Probably because that's the closest thing he'll ever get to a girl's touch," Sebastian muttered). Already the aroma was drawing him closer, a pleasant tickling like a silk robe on freshly bathed skin.

Sebastian inhaled deeply.

"Hmm."

"Well?"

"Old parchment," he said, "and hair dye."

Hair dye? "I've been told you were starting to grey."

"Funny. No idea why it smells like that."

But Ominis did. Just an inkling, anyway.

"Your turn." His friend stepped back. "You more than most anyone to know what it smells like."

Perhaps nothing, he thought in vain. It was a folly to think himself above such emotions. In fact, though his family may have tried to beat it out of him, it took strength to admit he had such a weakness at all. Since his sense of smell was more acute than most, it would've been strange, perhaps concerning, if there was no scent to the Amortentia at all.

So Ominis leant forwards and inhaled. The aroma was so heady he could get drunk on the smell alone.

"Honeysuckle," he murmured, probably because they grew around Feldcroft, and the memories were something he cherished. "Polished wood, like in a wandshop. And something... sweet." It was a sudden overwhelming note, and his voice grew hoarse. "It's very sweet. Something like—"

He iced over.

Strawberry laces.

"Something like...?" Sebastian said. "Your face has gone red."

"What?" Ominis drew back, willed the scent to disappear. "I— I don't recognise it."

Sebastian didn't say a word at first. Then came the insufferable chuckling beneath his breath.

"Ah, wait. Sweet, was it?"

"I said I don't recognise it." And when Sebastian went to speak again, Ominis quickly snapped, "Not another word."

But he knew, when his friend lapsed into contented, smug silence, this was by far the last time they'd have this conversation.

Without meaning to be, without even being there, you were a cruelty, vivid and sweet, and no matter what he did, he was powerless beneath your spell.

But with tensions rising in the world, he could not afford to think about you. He couldn't afford to think about what your scent in the Amortentia meant for his confused, muddled feelings.

By chance, he got the opportunity to think elsewhere the next day, when a letter arrived – from Gringotts, of all places. The braille glided beneath his fingertips, and he realised it was a will, his Aunt Noctua's will. It was getting to the point where she'd been missing longer than she had not, and his parents had finally bowled through solicitors and admin to snatch the last of the pittance from her vault. With no next of kin, she had given most of it to Ominis, though the money wasn't actually his until he turned seventeen.

Truthfully, the worst part was he could barely remember Noctua's voice anymore. He wondered constantly where she had gone, why she'd left him with her horrible brother and family. Once when he was eight, when a hopeful innocence still sang through him, Noctua had come to watch over him as his parents and siblings attended a society event in London. A pure-blood ball, he was told. Adults talking about adult things, how dull. As the youngest, Ominis hadn't been permitted to go, but he didn't mind so much when he got to spend time with his whacky aunt.

He was practicing his braille as Noctua tidied about the room.

"They'll be back after sundown," she was saying, "so make sure you're finished before then."

"Isn't it midday?"

"It's one."

"So I have lots of time."

"Yes," she said mirthfully, "but I want to take you to the village later today."

The village? "That's the Muggle place, and Father says I shouldn't go near them. They're all stupid anyway. Like pigs."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yes."

A creak as she sat on the bench next to him. Her hand ran down his back.

"You should know, Ominis, that not everything your father says is true. Muggles aren't anymore stupid than wizards are. They're hardly different from us at all."

The comment, harmless in retrospect, felt like an affront to everything Ominis knew. "But they don't have magic. That makes them stupid."

"It doesn't make them stupid. You don't have your sight. Does that make you stupid?"

"No," he said at once, indignant.

"So you understand. What we have and do not have doesn't matter. It is how we choose to live that does. In the end, we all return to the earth in the same way, flesh and skeleton."

That didn't make sense to him. "But how do they do anything if they don't have magic?"

"Well, you're learning your braille now, aren't you? They find ways to do things that work for them." She stood. "Tell you what, why don't we go to the village now? You can finish your work later."

Ominis agreed. He wanted to know, after all, if what Noctua said was true. She dressed him down for it, cotton and breeches and a woollen coat that drowned his arms, and they headed out before the clock struck two, Ominis clutching her hand as the wind bandied playfully with his hair. It didn't take them long to walk, though he detected so many new scents, new sounds. Wheat fields susurrating within musky spruce fences, crackling bonfires and burnings that pumped smoke into the sky. They reached a low stone wall that bordered the village river, cold against Ominis' hands, before Noctua hushed him.

"Do you remember the rules around Muggles?"

"No talking about the M-word," he said diligently, "or that we are the W-word."

So Noctua took him on a stroll through the market. He was surprised at the atmosphere, busy but not bustling. Horses clattered against cobblestone, ivy rustled against houses with rooves made of thatch. Knives slammed down on meat and fish, and there was bartering, so much bartering, for the best cuts and lowest prices.

"Come off it, Dave. Two shillings for that? You must be joking."

"Ain't no joke. Gotta' keep the lights on somehow, don't I?"

They chuckled, even though Ominis didn't understand why, until he remembered Muggles simply couldn't call upon light whenever they wanted. They had to rely on candles and hearths and gas lanterns. They had to rely on their own labour to make ends meet and provide for their children.

A thread of something fresh caught Ominis' nose then, and he turned towards the scent. Warm bread, just baked.

"Want some?" asked Noctua.

His family teachings came to him. Make no disturbance of your betters. "No thank you."

"Are you sure?"

It did smell nice, but he worried about whether Muggle bread was poison for wizards. Still, Noctua took him into the bakery, and thought terror laced through his fascination, he took the bread Noctua paid in their strange Muggle money and eagerly bit into the crust. It was warm and buttery and filled his belly to full – and best of all, it tasted like regular bread. No poison.

"Ah, born like that, was he?" said the baker.

Noctua seemed so at ease with them. "Yes, he's practicing braille at the moment."

"Oh, now, that's wonderful. Keep at it, lad. You'll do great."

"Thanks," Ominis managed. He'd never spoken to a Muggle before. He didn't know Muggles learnt braille too.

Noctua took him back outside as he finished the last of his bread. "Well? What do you think?"

The general mood was buoyant and hopeful. Not everyone was affluent, yes, but there was something wonderful in the way they worked tirelessly to get what they wanted. If the air smelt the same, the food tasted the same, the people merry and sad and angry the same...

"It's a bit like Hogsmeade," he admitted at last, because that was all he had to compare it to.

"So you see, then," said Noctua, a twinkle in her voice. "Not so different after all."

Only when they got back to the house, Ominis not entirely convinced but probing for more, he felt a shift in the air like claws on his shoulders. His parents had arrived home early, as had Marvolo and his noisy sneer.

"At the village, I see," his father barked. Then, "Ominis, to your room. Now."

Ominis knelt to the ground and pressed an ear to the crack under his door so he could hear the argument in the foyer below.

"You will do well to remember that he is my son, and I will not have you traipsing him around in Muggle slums!"

"Do you want him to be so completely unaware of the surrounding world? He'll have to live outside these walls one day."

Marvolo scoffed. "The boy is blind, Noctua."

"In sight, not in head," she retorted. "Though he will be if you all keep treating him this way."

It was nice to hear her support him, and from then on he enjoyed her company a lot more. She had so much wisdom to share, about the Muggle world, about his family, about the dark secrets that followed the Gaunts like shadow. When she went missing, he despaired in his bedroom alone, knowing all too well no one but him would care. It was only until that will arrived, balling up any last hope that she was alive, that he decided to shut the door on her disappearance once and for all – by chasing the information she'd last shared with him.

Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium.

It hadn't been an immediate decision. Once he told Sebastian of the Scriptorium, and his aunt's futile quest to find it, Sebastian hounded him for weeks, desperate to seek it himself. Ominis shut down his questions, even though, secretly, he wanted answers himself.

Missy managed to convince him – if only because she reinforced how important it was for Sebastian to find a cure for Anne, something that was possible with the secrets of the Scriptorium. And, well, to sate his own curiosity Ominis wouldn't be moved, but for Anne, whom he loved as much as Sebastian did, he agreed to make an effort. He would put aside his distaste for the Dark Arts for closure.

"Don't mistake my agreeing to go as thinking this is a good idea. I'm only going to ensure you don't get into some sort of trouble."

Missy's voice turned upwards with agreement. "You've made the right decision."

On the other hand, his was rueful. "I hope we don't regret this."

They waited until nightfall. It should've been no trouble to get there for the three of them, since the Scriptorium's entrance was next to their common room – but come the clock chimes at midnight Missy was nowhere to be found. Sebastian paced in wait as Ominis pressed a heel to the wall where the secret door lay, trying to sense any vibrations beneath. Boot steps heading towards them snagged his attention.

But there were two pairs. The first, Missy's forceful strides. The second—

You.

Instantly he recognised it. The bounce of your curls. The clatter of your glasses. The shoes, merrily clacking against stone. The scent of you, so sweet and innocuous, and yet like pure ecstasy.

You startled at the same time he did, standing upright.

"Gibby—"

"Ominis—" Hearing you speak his name after so long, in a tone that wasn't revulsion, was like music. But the shock was gone when you turned to Missy, aggravated. "I-I didn't know he was coming."

"Yes," said Missy coolly, "this information comes from his family."

"And therefore it is my quest," he reiterated. "You cannot invite whomever you want."

"I thought the more people, the better." So composed and unperturbed. "Why? Will this be a problem?"

"Yes. She cannot go."

"And why not?" you challenged indignantly.

So damn naïve. "It's dangerous."

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"There's a first time for everything."

"You can put your wounded ego away, Ominis. There's no way I'm not going exploring with you all."

He swore steam erupted from his nose, but it took Sebastian, of all people, to step in and play middle man. "We'll all go— and no, Ominis, unless you're planning to hex her, I don't think you can stop her."

"Don't tempt me." He grinded his teeth. "If you get hurt—"

"You wouldn't care," you said coldly.

And you were right. He shouldn't have cared. He'd severed your bond almost a year ago now. But there was something in him helplessly clutched in your grasp. Something that wouldn't let him let you go.

"If we're ready," said Missy, elongating her words in a poor attempt to smooth the tension, "then you can tell us the first step into the Scriptorium, Ominis."

Lighting the braziers was the easy part. Other students had done it, lit the things to light their way through the dungeons and accidentally unveiled the door. But no one had got further. A dead end, it was declared.

Instantly, he knew why.

Whispers seeped through the chamber walls. As the others explored, and Missy repaired a broken relief, Ominis wished he could clap his hands over his ears. There was something terribly wrong with this place. Something dark.

"Wait— a journal entry! Under the broken pieces!" Sebastian snatched a crusty parchment from the ground. "Ominis— it's signed from your aunt."

"What?" He couldn't believe it. Then had she... succeeded? "What does it say?"

Sebastian read. "Wow... she tried to convince your father she'd found the Scriptorium. She came down to get proof."

Noctua was here. And, perhaps worse, his father knew. His father knew and never said a word.

Tears came unwilling to his eyes, and he fought to bat them back, but it was like the susurrations heard his pain, strengthening their efforts to unsettle him.

"What's wrong, Ominis?"

Your voice was a balm, even though Ominis hated himself for it. His throat ran dry.

"I— I can hear hissing."

"Hissing?" asked Missy.

"I'm a Parselmouth," he explained, and for some reason, admitting it in front of you filled him with more shame. "I can hear and speak to snakes."

"Wow, that's incredible."

The awe in Missy's voice disconcerted him. "All descendants of Salazar Slytherin have the ability."

"So what's it saying?"

Ominis swallowed and focused on the sound. It pulled such a deep fear from him, to use this ability he hadn't in so long. The worst of it was, it was like he'd last spoken it yesterday. Like he'd never stopped at all. He'd sworn a year ago to lock away all the darkness of his family bloodline and throw away the key, and yet here he was, standing in his predecessor's lair, the translation effortless.

For Aunt Noctua, he tried to convince himself. But it was much harder to pretend the ends justified the means.

"Speak to me," he murmured.

"The relief depicts a person facing a snake," said Sebastian. "And this door... well, it's covered in snake motifs."

Ominis felt it, if only to fuel the hope that his friend was wrong. Of course he wasn't.

His heartbeat was a wild stag in his chest. "But I— I can't. I haven't spoken it in years."

"I think you know it's not the sort of language you forget."

No. It wasn't.

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

Everything in this place was overwhelming. His father's deliberate silence, the darkness that fettered him when he thought he was free... He didn't realise he was shaking until a hand came to steady him. You. Because of course you knew about his aunt, and how fond of her he was. You knew how much this meant to him, even if you didn't know the horrible things he'd done to get here.

He hesitated pulling his arm away – a foolish mistake. Your touch lingered like your soap.

"Take your time," you said softly.

He tried to gather some lost mettle. For my aunt, he told himself, again and again, until the whispers didn't seem so scary. It was difficult to centre himself when three people were waiting on him, but knowing that behind this door were the answers for his aunt's disappearance, and potentially the answers for Anne's illness, lit the spark of courage he needed. All that was left was to speak.

So he took a deep breath. Forced it out again.

And he spoke.

The tongue was guttering and unnatural. Rusty. Yet the door recognised its own flesh, and as the snakes undulated along the door's surface, and it opened with a cold draught of wind, Ominis knew he'd never escape his family legacy. No matter how much he wished it.

The others cast Lumos and set about exploring the space. Even so many years here and there was still some wonder in discovering the new, the unwritten. Salazar Slytherin did not make it easy to enter his Scriptorium, as the enclosed stone hallways, suffused with the cold, were riddled with puzzles, most of them involving the use of sight. Missy managed to solve the first, a memory test that required her to twist dials to match symbols on the gates.

She clicked the first one. Something sharped sliced the air besides him, and Ominis flinched.

"What the—"

"The gate came down," Sebastian said, terrified but also in awe – a worrying amount. "Between the archway."

"So there's no way back."

You huffed a breath. "So there's only forwards."

Regardless of your optimism, that was not a comforting thought, and the group stayed closer together, firing Lighting charms into the darkness. Dust swirled beneath Ominis' nose, and yet the place had a damp, mildewed feel, unpleasant and uncomfortable, but as the others continued to solve Slytherin's riddles, a rising worry eschewed his fear. This was too easy. His ancestor, he hated to admit, was one of the greatest wizards of all time, and too clever to find entertainment in shallow puzzles. There had to be something worse.

"I don't like this," he murmured into the humming din at one point, as Sebastian and Missy searched for the next symbols.

He didn't mean to talk to you, but he had.

"We'll be okay," you said, even though you moved a little closer to him, closer than he'd expected. "Salazar Slytherin is your direct ancestor?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

A pause.

"He hated Muggle-borns, too."

On anyone else's tongue, the words were a jab. On you, they were only full of pity.

I don't hate Muggle-borns. I don't hate you.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it, and the silence that followed devoured him.

"I think this is the last one," said Missy, when they entered yet another identical stone corridor, the echo of her voice a small comfort in the confined space.

Sebastian had already turned this into a game. "Race you?"

She let out a single chuckle. "You couldn't keep up."

"Try me."

You laughed along to their competitive scrabbling. When the air rippled, and stone quaked, revealing a corridor that seemed to lead nowhere, you patted your cheeks twice and marched forwards on Sebastian's heels.

But Slytherin enjoyed games too.

The gate almost sliced Ominis' nose when it descended in front of him, cutting him off from you and Sebastian. A mere breath separated you, and yet the gap felt infinite.

Behind him, Missy spluttered. "Damn it!"

That meant— he was trapped.

Powerless.

He grabbed the gate, unyielding beneath his fingers. "Sebastian, what's going on?"

"I—" Sebastian startled. "Oh no."

He heard your intake of breath then.

"What's going on?" Ominis demanded.

"Bones," you said quietly. "And a note. I-It's from your aunt..."

She died here. You read it aloud, confirming Ominis' worst fears. Grief tore through him, swelling behind his eyes.

"This is the last puzzle," Sebastian said, voice firm. "There's a door, but it's sealed. It says Crucio on the floor..."

"No!" Ominis rattled the gate. "No, you can't. This is madness, Sebastian! Please—"

"Please what?" Sebastian said, frustrated. "The Scriptorium wants a price for entry. This is what we must pay."

But you didn't know any Dark Magic.

Sebastian did.

The realisation chilled Ominis down to his heart.

"Don't you dare!" he screeched. "Don't you dare use that curse on her!"

You stammered. "Ominis—"

"We're stuck!" Sebastian barked. "Your aunt died because she came alone. She didn't have anyone to use Dark Magic on. So unless you want to die like her, we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice!"

Even though he didn't know what that was, even though it was Slytherin's nature to demand obedience or death. None of that mattered. What did was that you were the last person who deserved such pain, when you'd already been through so much. When he'd already caused it.

He tried with all his might to break the gate, bend it, cast the Exploding charm, whatever it would take to get him in the chamber.

"It won't work," Missy said, softer than he thought capable.

"I have to try—"

"It's okay," you mumbled, cutting him off. "I-I can take it."

The tremble betrayed your fear. Sebastian offered a compromise, that he could teach you and you'd use it on him, but even if you wanted to learn the curse yourself, which you didn't, there was no way you'd ever find the intention to use it willingly, and to use it willingly on Sebastian, no less, who'd done you no wrong since you'd known him.

Ominis banged his hands against the gate. "Damn it, Gibby—"

"I said I can do it," you snapped. "I'll be fine."

"I told you it was dangerous!"

"I knew the risks."

"Did you?" he challenged. "You came down to explore!"

"I'm not naïve, Ominis!" You came closer. "Of course the Scriptorium of Salazar Slytherin wouldn't be easy to get into. Of course I knew there was a price!"

But for you, and only you, to pay it? Was it by fate, that you walked in second, or was this what Slytherin wanted all along? For Muggle-born blood to pave the way for the rest of wizardkind?

His hands shook as he clutched the gate, so tightly his veins bulged. Once, you were the most naïve person he knew, but that day in the Undercroft had changed you as much as it had changed him.

You spun away, back to Sebastian. A deep breath.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

Presumably you nodded, because you didn't say the words.

And Ominis was helpless to listen as Sebastian raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

Your pain seemed to last for hours. For a second, a wink in time, you were silent, only that fizzing noise, that horrid, burning stench of the curse any indication anything was happening at all. But then you cried out, you wept,  you mewled, howled – then it was pure agony, screams that arced through Ominis in ways he would never forget.

Something shifted. It was a softer noise than your screams, like mud, or honey almost, sinking into the ground. As the blockage melted, Sebastian ceased the spell, but your pain did not end, and when the gate shot back up, Ominis stumbled over himself to get to you.

"Gibby," he fell to your side, cradled you, ran hands over your shoulders and face, breathless. "You— I— are you—"

Your ragged breaths calmed. Your quivering eased. Tears ran down his own, probably splattering onto you, but you said nothing, only remained still in his grasp as he held you, comforted you.

Something warm drew up his temple then, and it took a second to recognise it. Your hand. Your thumb, combing back an errant lock of hair, skimming the mole on his temple.

"So you do care," you croaked.

He didn't know how to respond.

"I-I'm sorry," he said instead, failure washing through him. "I... I should've—"

"Don't," you whispered. "Not here. Not yet."

So he didn't. Instead, he wordlessly helped you to stand. Sebastian and Missy asked after you, and their awkwardness brought a new flush to Ominis' cheeks, but when you gave a shaky thumbs-up and an audible smile that warmed even this terrible place, the four of you headed into Slytherin's Scriptorium impeded no longer.

Sebastian and Missy got to work searching each nook and cranny of the cavernous chamber of stone walls, busy with the scattered remnants of Slytherin's work: parchment, scrolls, ancient tomes on shelves that seemed to hum with magic too ancient to describe. Ominis held onto you for the entire time, emotionally spent. You clutched his arm in return, and he felt the tremble of your grip, the vestiges of the curse. He should've helped to search the place, really, but he didn't trust that Slytherin, the most famous pure-blood supremacist in the history of Hogwarts, wouldn't have any last surprises for you.

Missy eventually found Slytherin's spellbook, and the exit, which chucked the four of you back out into the dungeons. You huddled behind the columns until you were sure there were no teachers or prefects, and only then did Ominis allow himself a moment to press his head to the stone, process everything he'd heard, felt.

His aunt was dead, bones lying cold in that corridor.

Sebastian had used Dark Magic like it was second nature.

You had been hurt. And you were owed an explanation.

But so close to the common room entrance was risking too much. If not Peregrine Malfoy, then another pure-blood, a painting, a ghost, a teacher bribed. Someone else, trading with secrets that could ultimately slither its way back to his family.

"Ominis," Sebastian sounded genuinely contrite, "about your aunt—"

"Oh please, Sebastian," he snapped, the anger sudden but healthy. He swung on his friend, teeth bared. "We were lucky we escaped at all."

"But I'm grateful that we did, because maybe now Anne—"

"And if you'd have died in there? How could you have saved Anne then?"

You startled. "Wait, let's—"

"Swear to me." He didn't bend under the weight of your gaze. "Swear to me, right now, that we will never engage with Dark Magic ever again. That— that we will never cause that pain again."

Sebastian was speechless. "But—"

"Swear it, Sebastian!"

"All right, all right." He took a breath. "Understood. And I... I really am sorry about your aunt."

Admittedly that closure was nice, to know Noctua was gone. He didn't voice anything, his feelings too raw and churning, and Sebastian headed towards the common room, Missy in tow.

"We'll go. You two... have a lot to talk about."

When the common room door slid shut, and it was only the two of you, alone, a new sort of worry seeded in his stomach. You said nothing for a while, the last moments that had passed between you as palpable as stone.

"I— I'm sorry," he forced out, this apology much harder than the last. "The Cruciatus Curse—"

"I'm okay," you repeated. A shuffle of your boot. "Are... are you going to talk to me again now? Are you going to tell me why you turned on me?"

But he found the words impossible and unmoving. He needed time, space, to heal from today, before he was ready to open another old wound.

"I-I can't. Not yet."

You paused. It was long and hard to bear, like a rake drawing down his chest.

"All right," you said quietly. "When you're ready, find me. You know where."

He did know where. Back in the early months of first year, when you were green and hungry, there were times when you weren't tagging in Ominis and Sebastian's shadows, times when they didn't know where you were at all. Once he decided, on whim, to search. The castle was huge and he wasn't optimistic, but he checked your favourite places: the Hufflepuff common room, the library, the front lawns and the sitting area outside Charms. When you weren't there and no one had seen you, he concluded he was just missing you, and hurried towards the Great Hall before his absence at dinner was noticed.

That's when he heard you, far above.

The hallways of the Viaduct Entrance were quiet – everyone was at the feast – and even still, your voice was barely a whisper. He halted, pausing to make sure, and there again was your sound, high-pitched and squealy and very you. Brow furrowing, he followed the noise up the stairs until he found himself squirrelled between the wooden joists holding the ceiling.

Whilst Ominis and Sebastian had claimed the Undercroft as their own, this was your space. He didn't know when you'd discovered it, or how, but here you were, curled beneath the beams.

Crying.

It surprised him. You, crying? When you were always so upbeat? When everything seemed to make you laugh? He approached you like you were a unicorn, easily spooked by noise. Still, you noticed him anyway.

"Oh! Ominis! I— I didn't see you there."

"That makes two of us."

But you didn't laugh, which meant something was very wrong.

He swallowed his pride. He'd never dealt with someone crying before, least of all a crying girl. "What's the matter?"

"You're going to think I'm silly."

"I already think that."

Another heaving breath. Another jab that didn't land. "Then— I don't know. You might laugh."

"Why would I—?" He stopped himself. That wasn't what you needed to hear. Instead, he sat next to you. "I won't laugh. Promise."

"Okay." You shuffled a little closer. "I-I miss home."

Ah. You were homesick. Frankly the concept was foreign to him – he'd never once missed his family. Even then he rejoiced every second he got to spend away from home. Still, it seemed to be eating you up.

"I-I'm not ungrateful," you said quickly. "I'm really happy to be here. And I really like magic. It totally makes sense – one time I exploded my brother's washing basket and we never knew how—"

"Exploded—?" He sighed. Just you things. "Never mind."

"But I miss them. My mama and papa run the confectionary. My brothers are supposed to take over when they're older, but Connor met Matilda Asher at church and everyone reckons they'll marry soon and he'll go into lumbering, and Ellian doesn't like sweets a lot, and he's much better at business and numbers anyway, and who knows how little Tam will grow up— oh no, I'm going to miss him growing up!"

Now you were weeping and hiccoughing. "Slow down. You're getting tears on my robes."

"Sorry. Is that... am I a wally?"

He didn't have the heart to ask what a wally was.

"Everyone gets homesick sometimes."

"You don't."

So you noticed. "I grew up in the magical world. You didn't. If I was suddenly dropped into the Muggle world, I'd be sad too. It's overwhelming to suddenly be in a different place with different people, let alone find out you're actually a witch, but you'll get used to it."

"What if I don't?"

"You will." It wasn't a guess. It was fact. "And your friends will help. Sebastian and Anne, and Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur too."

"And you?"

"Yes," he said, managing a smile for your sake, "and me."

You took a deep breath, a sign that meant you would be okay.

"Do... do you have a tissue?"

"No."

"A... face-cleaning spell? Dryus Tearus?"

"You can't put -us at the end of words and expect it to be a spell. Just stop crying." It came out as a demand, even though Ominis didn't mean it to. He lifted the hem of his robes and wiped away the tears. "You'll get to go home at Christmas, which is only two months away."

By which point, he knew, you wouldn't feel so homesick anyway.

You squirmed when he drew the robe across your nose again. It was snotty, which made him grunt in disgust, which then made you giggle, and then use the sleeve of your own shirt to wipe the rest away.

"Thank you." You sniffled again. "I must look terrible."

"Awful."

A sharp pause – then another laugh, this one more like your usual self. "You are funny, Ominis Gaunt."

Funny was, perhaps, the last word he would ever ascribe to himself. It was, however, the perfect word to assign to his feelings a few days after the Scriptorium debacle, when he was finally ready to share the truth.

He didn't find you under the joists in the Viaduct Entrance's ceiling. Instead, where you were sitting that first time he caught you in first year, and where you sat in the subsequent times since, he found a note. Cleverly it was in braille, and he suspected there was no written words. He drew his thumb across the print.

Below astronomy deck, 8pm.

You had been waiting there, every day like clockwork. Waiting for him.

Ominis climbed the winding stairs. He didn't come up here often – without his sight, he couldn't read the stars, though he did still partake in stargazing theory and discussion. The floorboards croaked. So high up, the wind teased the tips of his ears, and he fussed with warming them until the deck was before him.

He thought he was alone, that he'd missed the chance today.

But you were here, coming up to him steadily. "Are you ready to talk?"

He nodded, voice scarpering deep into his throat. You waited. You weren't going to prompt him or give him any tools to help. You were as hungry for answers as you were before, but you would not make it easy. He would have to work for your trust.

He didn't know how to start.

"I— my family—" How did he tell you about the pain he went through, without diminishing yours? How could he articulate the horrors he'd experienced home, that he'd subsequently thrown back at you? "Some... things happened, when I was at home that summer after third year."

You waited still, not saying a word.

The beginning, then.

"You know my family hates Muggles. Hates Muggle-borns. It's an old pure-blood notion that Muggle-born magic is weaker, that it's stolen. I realised it was wrong when I met you, and regardless of my family's opinions I thought it was okay to be your friend."

"Opinions," you retorted. "You mean prejudice?"

"Yes," he agreed hoarsely, realising his error too late. "Yes, prejudice."

Silence again, as you waited for him to continue. He didn't know you could be so blunt.

"Peregrine Malfoy found out in third year we were friends. He— he told his father. Who told mine." Now his heart raced, his pulse thrashed, a cold clamminess prickled up and down his skin in disgust, shame, fear. "M-My parents, my brother Marvolo, they... they were displeased—"

Your hand found his arm then to steady him then.

"You don't have to continue."

"You deserve to know—"

"It's okay. I... I already know."

"You— what?"

"I've known since the Scriptorium."

"How?" he demanded, then seethed. "Damn Sebastian—"

"Not Sebastian," you mumbled.

Anne.

"It wasn't her place to tell either."

"No," you agreed, "but I wrote her a letter and she told me anyway, since you were being a dummy."

"But you know why, then," he reiterated, clutching your shoulders, hoping, begging to make you see. "You know why—"

"I know I lost my best friend," you said, angry tears snuffing your voice. "I know you suffered. I know your family are the vilest, most evil people on earth. I know that nosy Malfoy should mind his own business. Sebastian said he talked to him. He won't say a word about you now."

What the hell did Sebastian do? "It's too risky."

"I'd rather live in risk with you then not have you at all."

"You don't understand. My family will stop at nothing to protect the sanctity of the bloodline. If they are capable of hurting me, they will hurt you. Maybe— maybe worse. They might've tried something already if you weren't protected here, at Hogwarts."

"I'm not afraid of them."

"You should be. They can do so much worse than... than the slur I called you, Gibby."

"Mudblood. I know."

"Don't say—"

"Why? That word means nothing to me – it only meant something when it was coming from you."

He didn't know how to respond, speechless.

"Your family can continue to live their lives in hatred, but I won't ruin mine for their sake. If I have to keep my friendship with you a secret to keep you safe, fine." Your voice was fierce, incredible, beautiful. "But I am not losing you, Ominis Gaunt. Not again."

You knocked the breath from him then. Those were words he would never forget; you planted yourself deeper into his heart, where your flowers bloomed even in the shadows of his past.

You were his family, too.

It had taken him a long time to realise you always had been.

[PREV][NEXT] [Divider credits]

[ro-is-struggling]

Halo, I would like to request james potter × slytherin!reader with this lyrics “Just because it won't come easily // Doesn't mean we shouldn't try” (Easily by Bruno Major) when you're a pureblood prince/princess, and you and james are secretly in love. But of course, there have plenty of problems along this journey. But in the end, you guys end up together. Massive angst in the beginning and fluff in the end. Thanks!

Hi beautiful💜 Thank you so much for participating in the celebration!! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request, but better late than never, I guess. This one came to me so quick I'm kinda pissed it took me so long to sit down and write it. No kidding, I wrote it in like 2 days wich is really fast for my overthinker ass lol I hope that you like it 💕

Easily || James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Your social status and the expectations of your parents don't allow you to date someone like James, so you keep your relationship a secret. However, when he decides he can't go through with the act anymore, you find the courage to stand up to your family.

Warnings: angst, secret relationship, fluff, fem!reader, slytherin!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4000

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

James watched you from his place at the Gryffindor table, sad eyes glued to your figure. You were with him again, chatting over breakfast as if you were best friends. James knew the boy's true intentions, the whole school did, but he could do nothing but stare with hatred at the way he 'accidentally' touched your arm.

There was nothing he wanted more than to run up to you, take you in his arms and kiss you in front of the whole Slytherin table so that everyone would know that you were his. But he knew he couldn't. The only thing that making your relationship public would do for you was bring you more pain and suffering. Your parents were very strict, pureblood wizard royalty who looked down on most of the wizarding community. They had a well-planned future for you, with everything and a partner included, and James was far from that ideal. He knew that you hated it, that you felt trapped in a life you didn't want and that you loved him above all else. That was the only thing that kept him sane when he had to see you sucking up to that slytherin boy your parents adored, knowing that you were only really you when you were with him. But lately it was getting hard for him.

It was hard for him to live on stolen moments, sneaking around the castle just so he could be with you for a little while. It was hard to pretend to be indifferent when he saw you walking through the corridors, holding hands with that guy like you really liked him. It was hard to love you in secret, knowing that your relationship was disapproved of by everyone you knew. James wanted to shout from the rooftops about how much he loved you and how happy he was with you, but he couldn't do more than whisper to his pillow every night about how much he wanted to be with you.

He had been wondering lately if all the pain was really worth it. He loved you, but that wasn't enough to help him bear the weight on his chest anymore. He wondered what was the point of holding on to something that hurt him so much for just a few minutes of happiness. You had no possible future, at least not a happy one. Maybe it was better to end things before it got any harder. Maybe the heartbreak of having to let you go now would save him a lot of pain in the future. Maybe it was time to face reality, put aside his desires and accept that his love was nothing more than a forbidden dream.

Doubts were going around in his mind at all times, not leaving him a second of peace for himself. At least that was until you appeared, your smile emerging in the darkness of the hallway as you ran into his arms. And as he held you close, all questions were silenced by the intense love he felt for you, heart beating hard against yours. All you had to do was kiss him and he fell, surrendered to the softness of your lips, loving the way you whispered his name and told him how much you missed him. 

For a moment, everything was right again. You were with him, where you belonged, and the world seemed to be a better place. It was a fantasy, a fictional world you created every time you snuck out at night to see each other, but it was your world at last. A bubble of happiness, away from the sad reality outside. There were no parents or social mandates, no expectations or hatreds to separate you, just you, James and the love you had for each other.

He allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, losing himself in the softness of your lips and the warmth that your delicate touch awakened in his skin. But then he felt it. That guy’s perfume lingered on your skin, like a constant reminder that you weren't his —not really, not like James wanted you to be-and that you never would be.

"Wait, stop!" He murmured against your lips, lightly pushing your shoulders away from him. 

"What's wrong?" you frowned at him, confused by his sudden rejection. Did you do something wrong?

James looked at you for a moment, but remained silent, watching the concern in your eyes as he wondered if he really was about to voice his concerns. You tried to approach him again, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. But to your surprise he pulled back, giving your hand a light squeeze before removing it from his body. Then he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"This... w-we... I can't do this anymore." James struggled to say, unsure of what were the right words to communicate what he was feeling.

"What do you mean?" You spoke cautiously, hoping he didn't mean what you thought he was getting at. 

"I can't keep hiding us, our love, what I feel for you... It's too hard, I can't do it anymore." Your eyes glistened with accumulated tears and James felt his heart break into a thousand pieces once again. He hated to be the cause of your pain, but he had to be honest with you. The situation surpassed you and the love you had for each other was no longer enough, not for him at least.

"I know it's hard, it always has been. But we can get through this, James. I know we can." You reached out once more and this time he didn't reject your touch. You cradled his cheek with your hand and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I love you, Jamie."

"I love you too, but I'm afraid that's not enough. Not anymore." 

When James opened his eyes, you saw tears in them. He was hurting as much as you were, so why was he doing this? From the very beginning you two knew that your relationship would not be easy. You warned him countless times, rejecting his advances over and over again to protect him. He had assured you that he didn't care, that he would put up with anything to be with you. His insistence was the only thing that persuaded you to accept his advances, thinking that he would really support you and fight for your love. But now that seemed to be nothing more than empty promises.

"So you're just going to give up?" You asked, taking a few steps back as your sadness mixed with anger. James was supposed to be different, that's why you had opened your heart to him. "Just because it won't come easily doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"But we did try and it's not working." James sighed, leaning against the wall with slumped shoulders. "I can't keep seeing you with him. I can't keep pretending that it doesn't kill me to see him being all over you, thinking that you're his. I can't stand to see the indifference in your eyes every time we're in public. It hurts too much."

“Do you think that it doesn’t hurt me?” 

Your voice broke. Tears rolled down your cheeks, unable to hold them back a second longer. James felt even worse. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to run and hug you, to hold you close to him and never let you go. But he held back. This was a difficult but necessary conversation. He could no longer ignore his own pain —or yours.

"Do you think I like to be with him?" you continued, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Do you think I like ignoring you all day? You're the only good thing in my life, James."

"Then why do we keep hurting each other?" James said, almost whispering. There was a clear sadness in his voice that made the knot in your throat tighten. "Love is not supposed to hurt this much."

Your gaze softened as you noticed in his eyes just how deep James' pain was. A fresh wave of tears rolled down your eyes as you realized your mistake. All this time you had been asking so much of him, thinking he would be okay because you were. Your life was hell, but it all got better if you could just get five minutes alone with him. He was what made your days tolerable, he was the one who put a smile on your lips. James was the light at the end of the tunnel, a ray of hope for your future. But he didn't have your life, so your relationship probably didn't mean the same to you as it did to him.

James had wonderful parents who adored him and supported him in everything. He had friends who loved him and whom he could confide in. He wasn't lonely like you, he didn't need to cling to your love to feel a little happiness. He was happy with or without you because he had the freedom to make whatever he wanted with his life. Hiding and having to lie about his feelings probably hurt him more than it hurt you because James didn't have much to gain in your relationship. You were the one that would lose everything if he wasn't by your side. The suffering you were putting him through probably wasn't worth it to him, not in the same way it was to you.

You had been selfish. All this time you had thought only of yourself, how happy you were when James wrapped you in his arms, how easy it was to get out of bed in the morning knowing that at night you could be with him. James gave you a purpose, a glimmer of hope of escaping the perfectly planned future your parents had planned for you. But you offered him nothing but animosity and suffering that was only rewarded with a couple of hours of intimacy and happiness a day —if you were lucky. All this time you had been hurting him more than you knew, ignoring his pain for your happiness. And realizing that made you feel horribly bad about yourself.

"Maybe you're right." You spoke after a long silence. "Maybe it's better to stop this before it goes too far. We both knew it was just a dumb fantasy anyways." You let out a bitter chuckle, wiping away your tears as you took a step closer to James. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I never wanted to hurt you, James."

"I don't regret our relationship, we were just trying to make it work. And I don't regret my love for you, I... I just can't do this anymore."

"I love you," you murmured, reaching out to caress her cheek once more. You gave him a smile —trying to pretend you weren't falling apart on the inside—, but it quickly turned into a sad pout. "And that's why I have to let you go. I can't keep hurting you like this. I'm sorry, James. I truly am."

He rested his hand on yours, keeping you from removing it from his cheek. If this was your goodbye, James wanted to enjoy your touch at least for a little while longer, to remember the softness of your hands and the warmth of your skin against his body. He knew that what he would miss the most were your kisses and the sound of your laughter, but he had to get used to it. This was for the best.

"I love you too."

You shared a kiss, one last goodbye kiss. Your lips moved slowly over James', trying to drag out the moment as long as possible. You were going to miss his kisses, the taste of his mouth and the way his lips molded to yours, as if they had been specially created to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. 

You didn't want the moment to end. You didn't want to face the cruel reality that would come as soon as he parted. You wanted to get lost in the sweet taste of his lips and make a refuge out of his warm embrace. But that was impossible. You had lost your chance with him and now you had nothing left to do but watch him go. It broke your heart, but it hurt more to know that it was your love that caused him pain. Hopefully James could heal now, forget about you, find someone who could make him happy. And you... that didn't matter. What mattered to you was that he was happy.

Two weeks.

Only two weeks had passed and you were totally miserable without James by your side.

You were used to the pain of seeing him walk through the halls without being able to even give him a smile, but it had never felt like this. This time it was much more intense, visceral. A tug at your heart that paralyzed you every time you saw him laughing with another girl. It was the pain of knowing that his heart no longer belonged to you. The pain of his absence, of the lack of his soft touches and gentle words of love whispered in furtive encounters. You missed him and, no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to hide it.

All your 'friends' knew something was wrong with you, but they didn't care enough to do anything about it. They would make a few teasing comments when they noticed your absence in a group conversation or ask you curiously what it was that you were staring at with such intensity —unaware that your eyes were fixed on James—, but nothing more than that. You were essentially a ghost, a shell of your former self. You moved about the castle and went about your routine as usual, but there was no real emotion behind the fake smile you forced yourself to put on in front of the others. Nothing made sense after losing James. 

You had given up on life completely. You had no more energy or motivation to keep fighting anymore, it was too hard. Maybe it was time for you to accept your fate, just like all the women in your family had done. Maybe you had to give up and face the cruel reality: you were not meant to be happy. It made sense, the one time you had pursued your own happiness, away from your parents' wishes, you ended up hurting the only person who had ever truly loved you.

James deserved someone so much better than you. He deserved to be with someone without having to hide, someone who didn't have to think twice before holding his hand or kissing him in public. He deserved someone who wasn't afraid to say he loved him and show it in front of a room full of people. And as much as it hurt, that wasn't you, so you had to give up and let him go. You had to accept that maybe the fact that things didn't go so easily for you was a sign, a message from destiny telling you that you shouldn't be together. 

It was the best thing for both of you, you knew that, but that didn't make things any easier. It hurt you to see James talking to Lily, flirting with her in a not-so-subtle way when you were only a couple of feet away. You knew that the best thing for him was to find someone else who could make him happy, but seeing him do exactly that broke your heart.

Why couldn't you be the one for him? Why couldn't you enjoy your love in public like everyone else? Why couldn't you hold his hand as you walked down the halls or kiss him without fearing what others would say? Why couldn't you be happy with him?

You realized then what a big mistake you were making.

You could do all those things with James. The only thing that was really holding you back was your family and the opinions of a bunch of people you didn't care about in the slightest. You were letting them influence you, believing the story that you couldn't be happy unless you followed the path they wanted you to follow. You were giving up your power, your autonomy and your future as your parents expected. You were letting them break your spirit and get away with it by giving up so easily.

Maybe that negative voice in your mind was right and James deserved better, but so did you. You deserved to be happy and have the chance to explore and discover your own destiny. And right now that happiness, that path you wanted to follow, included having James by your side. So you got up from your seat at the Slytherin table —ignoring the looks of confusion from your study group— and ran in search of that destiny.

Finding James wasn't difficult, he was chatting with his friends in the courtyard under the shade of a tree. Lily was with them, but you tried not to let that affect you, taking a deep breath before approaching them. The closer you got, the more you felt the stares of everyone around you. You were the Slytherin princess and everyone was well aware of your parents' position on blood purity. They also knew the opposite position of James, Sirius and most of the Gryffindors. There was no reason for you to be approaching them, so people couldn't take their eyes off you, mumbling under their breath as they watched you walk by.

But you didn't let that get to you. You were determined not to let it bother you ever again. People could talk all they wanted, your parents could get angry and your Slytherin friends could isolate you, none of that mattered to you anymore. All you cared about was James.

"Can we talk?" You cleared your throat both as a way to get noticed as well as to make sure your voice sounded loud and clear. 

Everyone looked at you with wide eyes full of surprise, not understanding what it was that someone like you could want to discuss with one of them. Knowing that James hadn't even told Sirius, who was like his brother, about you gave you a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, it was nice that he had been so willing to keep your secret that he hadn't even mentioned it to his best friend. On the other hand, it made you feel bad to know how alone he had been in all this, and made you wonder if maybe there weren't other reasons why he hadn't told his friends. Maybe he was also afraid of them finding out he was in love with you. Maybe his friends hated you and wouldn't accept James going out with you. Maybe...

"Here?" James spoke, interrupting your thoughts. He looked around, noticing the many eyes glued to your back. "Are you sure?" he insisted, and you nodded. There was not going to be any more sneaking around.

James walked a couple of steps beside you, seeking to get a distance from his friends so that you could have a private conversation. However, when he tried to take advantage of a tree to hide from the prying eyes of the other Hogwarts students, you stopped him, opting to remain in plain sight. 

"What are you doing?" He said and you didn't have to ask him what he meant to understand that he was confused by your attitude. The rules had always been clear, no one could see you together because it would raise suspicions and could reach your parents' ears. So he wondered why you were suddenly approaching him to talk to him in a public space.

"I don't care if they see us together!" You spat without hesitation, deciding it was best to get straight to the point. "Not anymore."

"What?" The surprise was clear in James's expression —eyes widening and lips trembling as he spoke. He definitely wasn't expecting you to say that.

"I've been thinking a lot these past few days and I realized how wrong I was. I put you through so much, made you sacrifice everything for me and the moment you told me you had enough I just gave up."

"Y/n, it's okay, I-" He tried to say, but you interrupted him, taking a step towards him and taking one of his hands. James' eyes rested on your intertwined fingers for a moment, before returning to your face.

"Let me finish, this is important." you told him and he simply nodded. "It wasn't fair, the way I treated you. I isolated you and hurted you just because I was scared of my family, of what they might do to me. I made you sacrifice everything for me and when it was my time to do the same I just let you go instead... and that was wrong of me, and I'm here to make it right."

"Y/n, what are you saying?" James asked cautiously, waiting to hear from your own lips what he believed was what you were referring to —that which he had been waiting to hear since the day your relationship had ended.

"I'm saying that I'm sorry. I'm saying that I love you and that I want to fight for us if that still is what you want."

"A-are y-you sure?" It wasn't that James wasn't happy to hear you say that. It was literally a dream come true for him. But he didn't want to force you to do something you would later regret. He hadn't broken up with you to manipulate you, he had done it because he really needed a break. He didn't expect his decision to change your mind, even though he really wanted to. There was nothing in the world James wanted more than to be able to make his love public, but at the same time he didn't want to hurt you. And he knew that your relationship would only bring you trouble.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." you told him with a smile that made all his doubts and built up sadness disappear. "I want to be with you, Jamie. You are my happiness, and if my parents can't see that...well, that's their problem, not mine."

James smiled, taking a step toward you to close the distance between you. He reached out his hand with the intention of caressing your cheek, but stopped halfway, his eyes looking over your shoulder at the people watching you curiously. At his hesitation, you took his hand in yours and brought it up to your cheek, closing your eyes for a moment as you enjoyed feeling the warmth of his skin against yours once again.

"Can... can I kiss you?" James muttered, his voice an almost inaudible whisper. His eyes were focused on your lips, admiring them with need. He knew it would be best for you to go slowly, but he missed your lips so much that he couldn't contain the need to kiss them again.

"Please."

James looked into your eyes one last time before closing the distance between you, bringing your lips together in a long awaited kiss. It was quick, his lips moving delicately over yours, but no less intense for that. It was just what you both needed at that moment, to feel each other's love, which remained as strong as the day you said goodbye. 

Neither of you cared about the looks of the others around you as you pulled away from the kiss. You were too happy for that. All you had to do was look into James' warm eyes and all your worries disappeared. You knew things wouldn't be easy and that you'd probably be hearing your parents' scolding in no time, but you were ready to face it. You could face anything if James promised to stay by your side.

[satoshy12]

Tiny Percy

Tiny demigod Percy did beat up bigger bully in School. And the thing is, no one believes the bullies when they go to the teacher to snitch (many bullies are that way). The victim fights back! I will make him a bad person!

The situation worsened as Percy confronted Ethan Thompson after he attempted to grab his lunch once more. Percy beat up the taller bully.

After the event was reported via email, Principal Matthews called Ethan, his parents, Karen and David Thompson, and Sally Jackson.

Percy was immediately accused by Karen, who said, "Your son assaulted my baby boy, Ethan." 

Sally Jackson, Percy's mother, responded with disbelief, "I don't believe it. It can't be true."

At the same time, Percy's home teacher and swimming and gym instructor, Coach Anderson, weighed in skeptically, saying, "I find it hard to believe. Perseus has a lot of athletic potential. Let's avoid drawing hasty assumptions." The suggestion is that, given young Percy's ability, he would simply ignore it even if he did participate in such an activity.

David Thompson chimed in, "You've seen how Ethan is." Ethan has several bandages prominently around his head and limbs, indicating that there are several wounds or abrasions below. There appears to be a fracture to one arm, as indicated by the cast, which is kept immobile by a sling. His face is rather bloated, and the bruises that have caused his skin to become purple and yellow are a few days old. Patches adhere to various body areas, perhaps masking minor wounds or scratches. "My child is an MMA fighter! Explain this!!

Sally was unwavering in her belief that Percy was innocent, saying, "It just can't be Percy."

David brushed off Sally's justification, saying, "Don't try to excuse it!!"

Principal Matthews stepped in and called Percy into his office, recognizing the gravity of the issue. He hit a button on his radio. "Perseus, could you please come to the principal's office?"

Shortly after, there was a very young voice that said, "It's Percy, and you all know it." 

The parents saw that Percy was considerably smaller than Ethan as he walked in.

This even made some kids and professors chuckle, as it finally made the Thompsons' parents understand why their assertions appeared improbable to others.

The parents, bewildered as to how their small child could have surpassed their strong son, were left to wrestle with the possibility that their son's story could not be credible. To hide a friend who had committed this, he just told lies.

"We would just now depart, and it would be best if we forgot about this whole thing," David Thompson said as he got to his feet. "It seems like I noticed the error."  Karen quickly got to her feet as well and dragged her son out. Already, this was too much for her, and she was terribly ashamed. She didn't even look aside as she dragged her son, Ethan, along.

"Can I stay here till math is done?" Percy asked Principal Matthews as the three of them were outside and heard the two parents scream at Ethan.

Sally gave her son a look and said, "No." Percy simply turned and walked out the door. "Drat."

[jerzwriter]

Kaycee reflects on how life turned out exactly as she imagined it and how it didn't when she and Ethan dropped their daughter off at college for the first time. When they leave, they know their journey will lead them back to Boston, but will it lead them home?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan x Kaycee (Past) Rating: Teen Words: 3,800 (sorry!) Summary: Please see above. A/N: This really took on a life of its own! @tessa-liam asked for two prompts from this list, and I merged it in with an anonymous ask from the same list. The three prompts are highlighted below, and they made for an angsty story! I hope you enjoy it!

This is not part of my HC - but a one-off, one-shot.

Participating in @julychallenge Pink: Love, Black: Loss.

Kaycee raised a cup of hot chocolate to her lips and smiled. It didn’t matter that she was now in her forties; she’d always prefer its silky, sweet taste more than coffee, and she didn’t care who knew it.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Ethan's parked car, she closed her eyes to listen to the sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves outside; the moment felt almost perfect. It was exactly the day she had envisioned when she imagined dropping Emma off for her first semester of college. But as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she heard Ethan’s voice and was reminded – it wasn’t exactly as she had planned.

She stepped out of the car as they walked down a tree-lined path toward the car, Ethan’s arm wrapped protectively around their daughter’s shoulder.

“Now remember, you do not go out alone at night, no matter what. Wait for your roommate, another friend, or call campus security.”

"Yes, Dad," Emma said rolling her eyes. "You seem to forget I grew up in Boston – I have street smarts, Dad.”

The young woman looked to her mother, desperate for a save, and Kaycee reached out to embrace Emma one last time.

“Ethan, I don’t want to leave her either, but it’s getting dark, and it’s a long ride back to Boston.”

Ethan smiled tenderly as he stared at his “little girl.”

“It’s funny. I always imagined it would be me dragging you away, not the other way around.”

“Well,” Kaycee smiled curtly, “life has a way of surprising us.”

It had already been three years. Three years since their assets were divided, custody was determined, and with the scribbling of two signatures on a lifeless document, a marriage of almost twenty years came to an end. They’d come a long way since that painful day. Being in each other’s presence no longer elicited queasiness. The sight of each other didn't lead to dampened eyes or a feeling of guilt that consumed them. Still, it wasn’t easy. But today, they did what they always did best – they showed up for their daughter.

It was a two-hour drive from Boston to Hanover, New Hampshire. Ethan had hoped she’d pick his alma mater, Brown, where she’d only be 52 minutes away. But Kaycee reminded him that Emma’s top pick was originally UCLA. All things considered, Dartmouth wasn’t that far. But when Emma asked if they could all drive her to campus together, that two-hour journey suddenly felt much longer.

They were all surprised at how pleasant the ride up had been. Emma was a ball of nervous energy and chattering non-stop. The joy of heading off to college was mixed with the fear of being away from both her parents for the first time was familiar to her parents, and they both offered reassurance. They marveled over how it felt like it wasn’t so long ago that they were off to college – beginning their adult lives – at the starting line of all their dreams. They hoped Emma would realize as many of hers as they had, but they hoped other dreams would have happier endings than theirs.  

“...and I’m thinking I might double major,” she said without taking a breath. “Because Poli Sci is what I want to do... that’s my passion... but if I want to get into a top-tier law school, I think double majoring in English would be beneficial.”

“Sweetheart,” Kaycee smiled from the backseat. “Why don’t you get through your first semester? Then you can make that call.”

Ethan shook his head with a gentle chuckle. “Can someone tell me how a child with two parents who are renowned in the medical field is hell-bent on becoming a lawyer?”

“Dad,” Emma exasperated. “You always told me to pursue whatever I wanted to...”

“And I meant it,” he interrupted. “But you have to admit, this was unexpected.”

They arrived on campus and unpacked Ethan’s Porche Cayenne – the SUV Kaycee insisted was his mid-life crisis, even though he had already passed that point when he bought it. They could have left as soon as all the boxes were in the dorm room, but they refused to leave until her new bedspread was in place, the matching curtains hung, and little fairy lights twinkled around the perimeter of the room.

With no excuses to stay left, Kaycee turned to her daughter, her voice cracking with emotion. “Well, I guess this is it.”

“Mom!” Emma scolded. “We said no crying.”

“I know. But my baby’s all grown up. I’m entitled to a tear or two.”

The mother and daughter were wrapped in a hug when Ethan returned to the room holding a cardboard tray with two cups of coffee and one hot chocolate – he was elated that his daughter had his refined tastes in hot beverages.

“What did I miss here?” He asked.

“Mom’s starting to get weepy,” Emma smirked.

Kaycee wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just finishing our goodbyes,” she said. “I’ll go to the car to give you two some privacy.”

“You don’t have to leave...” Ethan started, but when he realized his ex-wife was about to burst into the tears she had promised Emma she’d hold back, he understood. “Fine,” he said, handing her his keys. “Why don't you wait in the car?”

Kaycee adjusted the passenger seat, admiring the soft leather. Ethan had always preferred to drive, and she’d spent a good portion of her life sitting beside him, but it was the first time she sat in this car, purchased right after their divorce. Remembering a life now lost was already difficult, but her mind rushed to places she had no desire to go.

Ethan had never been forthcoming about his relationships since their split. Of course, she had heard the rumors... some said he was dating the new Director of Nursing, others swore he and Harper had rekindled their old flame. But she never asked Ethan about them; it wasn’t her place. Their conversations revolved around Emma, and that’s how she kept it. Still, as she sat in a seat she once coveted, she couldn’t help but wonder if others now filled that space.

The sound of the driver’s door opening quickly ushered her back to reality, and she was grateful she could blame her tear-filled eyes on Emma.

Ethan turned to her with a tender smile that Kaycee hadn’t seen in some time. “She’s going to be OK," he reassured.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” she replied, dabbing her eyes. “It’s me that I’m worried about.”

Ethan had to chuckle. “I know that feeling quite well.”

An awkward silence fell between them. At another time, they would have hugged and offered each other assurances. He would have told her their new chapter was beginning, too. They could focus on the dreams they had planned together, but now, he just fumbled to find a classical music playlist as he started the drive.

“Thank you for agreeing to drive up together,” he finally spoke.

“Of course. Emma wanted both of us here. I’d never deny her that.”

“No, but if I’m being honest, I half expected you to tell me you were taking a Greyhound on the return trip home.”

A slow smile spread on her lips, and she confessed. “I did price them.”

“I bet you did,” he laughed.

The conversation turned to the other comfortable topic between them: Medicine. He lauded her recent article in the New England Journal of Medicine, and he told her when he planned to retire. Kaycee reminded him that Emma embracing law wasn’t too odd; after all, it had been her second career choice, too. He quickly reminded her that he remembered. He remembered more than she knew.

They drove for about an hour when a pinging sound began getting louder and louder. Kaycee tried not to chuckle when the expensive car came to a halt, knowing her trusty old Toyota would have never stranded them like this. Ethan looked under the hood, then returned to the car with a sigh.

“Tripple A will be here shortly,” he informed. “There’s a Porche dealer a few miles away, but of course, they’re closed until the morning.”

“Of course,” she half grinned.

Ethan turned to her with a smirk, and she couldn’t decide if it was one of annoyance or amusement, so she decided to believe it was a little of both.

“Are you enjoying this?” He said sarcastically.

“I always told you that simple was better when it came to cars. There’s no need for the expensive bells and whistles.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled sadly. “You told me a lot of things.”

“I’d tell you what Greyhound could get us back to Boston, but the last one left forty minutes ago... “

“Yep! I think we’re stranded here for the night, too. Not just my car.”

When the Tripple A driver arrived, Ethan and Kaycee hopped into the cab of his tow truck.

“There is a hotel nearby,” the man said. “I’m happy to bring you there. But there might not be any vacancy. A lot of local colleges are welcoming students this weekend, and a lot of parents who aren’t letting go stay nearby.”

“Yeah,” Kaycee barked out a laugh. “We’re familiar with that!"

“Oh, I see,” the man grinned. “You’re those parents. Well, as someone who has been through this, I can tell you it gets easier. Just think of it as the start of your second honeymoon.”

“Oh, no, we’re not...” Kaycee started but decided to skip it as they pulled up to a Comfort Inn. “You know, never mind.”

“This is the only place around here,” the driver informed. “If you can get a ride, there are more places about twenty miles down the road.”

Ethan looked at his watch. “The vacancy light is on, and it’s been a long day. This will do just fine.”

Kaycee ran to the restroom in the lobby while Ethan went to the front desk to secure rooms. When she stepped back out, she saw him grimace.

“Before I tell the desk clerk yes, are you sure you don't want to get an Uber to another hotel?”

Kaycee scrunched her nose. “An Uber in these parts? At this time of night? Unlikely. What’s the matter,” she chuckled. “Did you check the reviews and find out it’s not a five-star rating?”

“No, wiseass,” he smiled, enjoying the banter that used to be part of his daily life. “The problem is, they only have one room left.”

“Oh,” Kaycee said with a fallen face.  

“Exactly.”

“Well,” she laughed nervously. “We’ve round ourselves in this position before, haven’t we?”

Both their minds drifted to the conference in Miami during Kaycee’s intern year.

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But that was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”

“Ethan,” Kaycee shrugged. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for decades. We have a child together. We can share a room for one night unless...”

Unless there is someone in your life who would prefer you didn’t, she thought as Ethan asked her to continue.

“Uhm, never mind. We’ll be fine for one night.”

The walk to their room was peppered with small talk in an attempt to break the tension. But they were both so tired that they really didn’t care. They’d fall asleep, wake up, and find a way home. Everything would be back to normal. That's what they thought until Ethan opened the door.

“There’s only one bed?” Kaycee gasped.

“The front desk said there were two queen-sized beds!” Ethan insisted.

“Well, by my calculations, there is only ONE.”

“Obviously, they were wrong.”

“Noooo!” Kaycee mocked to Ethan’s chagrin. He looked around the tiny room; the only other furniture was an uncomfortable looking chair and desk.

“I’ll sleep in the chair,” he declared.  

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Kaycee insisted. “Ethan, it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”

“Yeah... that was the norm for us... until that... changed.”

They exchanged an uneasy look, and both understood the best thing to do was go to sleep quickly. After kicking off their shoes, they both lay perched on the edge of the mattress, facing away from the other. Though they weren’t touching each other at all, their presence was obvious, and as exhausted as they were, suddenly, neither could sleep.

“Kaycee, are you still awake?” Ethan whispered.

“Yes.”

“How is our little girl already in college?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “The years just flew by. And it’s odd because some of those days and weeks felt like an eternity, but I turned around twice...” she audibly gulped. “... and they were gone.”

The room went silent; all Kaycee could hear was her ex-husband's breathing. “So many precious days,” he lamented. “I know I haven’t thanked you enough."

“Me?” a startled Kaycee replied.

“You’re the only one here,” he chuckled. "Emma is a remarkable young woman, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my daughter."

“I know she is,” Kaycee laughed, rolling on her side to face Ethan, who had already turned her way.

“Well, that’s in large part because of you, and I should thank you more often.”

“You’re just as responsible,” Kaycee insisted. “You’re an amazing father, Ethan. You always were.”

He fell silent, hoping the darkness of the room would prevent Kaycee from seeing the emotion in his eyes, though there was no way to conceal it in his voice. If I had been an amazing father, I wouldn’t have let our family end. If I had been an amazing father, I would have fought harder for us to work, he thought, but all that came out was a broken.

“Thank you. You know, when you walked into Edenbrook all those years ago, I had no idea how much my life was about to change,” he smiled as Kaycee shifted uncomfortably.

“Ethan... it’s probably best if we don’t talk about this. I think we should just....”

With that, the lights flicked on, and Ethan was sitting upright.

“Why not?” he asked. “Not making time to talk is where everything started to go wrong for us.”

“It was,” she concurred. “But the time to fix that passed a long time ago. The ink on our divorce papers is long dry, Ethan. This isn't how it works.”  

“It can work anyway we want it to,” he countered. “Kaycee, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a part of each other’s lives.”

“We’ll always be a part of each other’s lives. We have Emma.”

“I don’t mean because of Emma. I want you to be a part of my life because, with the exception of our daughter, you've been the single most important person in my life. For the past three years, I’ve felt like a stranger in my own soul without you. I miss hearing your voice. I miss your laugh. When I have exciting news, you're the only one I want to tell it to. I want you to be more than the person I arrange drop-offs with, and now that Emma is grown, we won’t even have that.”

“Are you telling me you want to be friends? She asked.

No. I don’t want to be friends. I want us to be so much more, and I wish I had the nerve to say it.

“Ethan,” she repeated after an extended silence. She saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he reached over and pushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Friends.... or something,” he choked.

Kaycee’s head fell into her hands, partly because she was tired, partly because she was trying not to cry.  

“Ethan, where did it all go wrong?”

Their minds drifted back in time to the days of trying to manage two busy careers with the needs of their child, long days filled with demands, exhaustion, and the feeling that they could never get it right. Sometimes, they fought; sometimes, they held it all in. Sometimes they turned the guilt inward... they weren’t good enough, they were failing, they should be better at this... and sometimes, they projected it onto the other... "You never...", "You used to...", "I can't believe you..." In time, they learned being alone isn't the worst feeling in the world, being in a relationship, but feeling alone was, and when the loneliness became too much to bear, they decided it should end.

“Why did we let it go?" Kaycee sniffled. “There was no affair, no hatred, even our fights weren’t all that bad. Our marriage was like a boat, just drifting away as we watched, and neither of us thought enough to help it change its course.”

“We were focused on work,” Ethan sighed with regret. “Focused on Emma. Then we had elderly parents to care for... it took so much of our time that in the end, we forgot to focus on each other.”

“But we knew what we had was special. Why the hell didn’t we fight for it!”

“You wanted to,” Ethan whispered. “You wanted to. I... I blame myself.”

“Ethan, you weren’t the only one responsible for our marriage ending.”

“I’m the one who stormed out of counseling, telling the counselor that it was absolutely useless. I’m the one who began to withdraw. You begged me to try.”

Feelings they believed to be long buried began to rise to the surface again, and the pain was as raw as it had ever been.

“You withdrew... but I never asked you why you did. I let my imagination get the better of me and...”

“And?”

“Did you stop loving me?” She asked, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

“No!” Ethan gasped. “Oh, God no, I never once stopped loving you.”

“I allowed myself to believe that you did,” she said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “I felt like an obligation... like if we didn't have a piece of paper decreeing that we had to be together, you'd be long gone. And I swore I’d never be in a marriage like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I thought I did,” Kaycee replied. “Maybe not with words, but with actions. I tried to give signs, but..."

“Kaycee, I never learned to read  your mind.”

“I know that... and that’s why I’m as responsible as you for letting our marriage die.”

“I wish I would have fought harder,” Ethan wept as Kaycee’s floodgates opened.

“Me too,” she shuddered. “Me too.”

Ethan instinctively reached for her hand, surprised when Kaycee fell into his arms. His arms encircled her and held her close. Both were overwhelmed by the warmth and familiarity, a feeling of comfort from a time long gone when they were each other’s port in a storm. When they were each other's home.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan cried. “I’m sorry I let it end.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Kaycee cried into his shirt. Ethan went to pull away, but she refused to let him go.

“Please... can you hold me just a little longer?"

“Of course,” he whispered, resting his head on hers as she nuzzled into his shoulder.

Comforted by his touch, Kaycee fell into a deep sleep and slept better than she had in a long time. But Ethan found no such relief; he remained awake all night, never letting her out of his arms until he got up in the early morning hours.

The sun was shining through the window, and Ethan was seated at the desk with an abysmal cup of coffee in hand when Kaycee woke up with a startle.

“Hey, are you OK?” he asked, as she groggily nodded. He moved to the edge of the bed and sat beside her. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing... you’re here,” she replied.

“Did you forget? The car broke down, we had to stay here, there was only one room...”

“No... no,” Kaycee stopped him. “I remember all that. I just had a bad dream. I dreamt that you left me during the night, and I woke up alone.”

“Well, you made sure I couldn’t do that, even if I had wanted to,” he smiled. “You basically slept on top of me all night.”

“I did!”

“You did," he smiled. "Did you at least sleep well?"

“Like a baby – and you?”

“I slept OK,” he fibbed, pointing to the paper cup on the desk. “That cup of swill parading as coffee should help wake me up a little more.”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I think I’ll make myself a cup, too. If you have to suffer through it, I should, too.”

She flung her legs over the side of the bed, but Ethan grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the mattress.

“Kaycee, I have to tell you something before I lose my nerve.”

A line formed between her brows. “What... what is it?”

“I need to tell you what I should have said three years ago. That I’m sorry. I took us for granted and allowed life to come between us, which was so foolish because you... you were my life. I've felt like a stranger wandering in a strange land where he no longer belongs for the past three years. See, I love you, Kaycee. I never stopped, and the biggest regret of my life is that I let you go. So, I know the answer is probably no, maybe you'll think I’m crazy, and I could be... but is there a chance... any possibility that you and I could try again. If we can, I promise, I'll get it right this time."

He sat in nervous anticipation in every silent moment that followed. Kaycee’s eyes were wide, and her lip trembled, but he wasn’t sure why. It was taking too long. It was taking too long, and he braced himself for rejection... the rejection he now realized that he had feared so desperately that he found it easier to let her go. But it only took a moment for all that to change.

Kaycee threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight as she peppered him with kisses and pushed him back on the bed. Her lips found his, and they came together; their hearts raced as it deepened, their hands caressing the curves they still knew by heart. At long last, they were home.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled breathlessly.

 “What gave it away?” she giggled, kissing him again. “But we have to take it slow. You’re the love of my life, and I want this to work more than anything, but we have to think of Emma. The divorce was hard on her, and we can’t let her know about this until we’re sure... 100% sure... that we’re forever.”

“I agree,” he smiled, his hands running through her hair. “You take all the time you need, but I know... if you’ll have me... this is forever. I don’t want to know a day without you again.”

“Can I have a week or two?" she grinned.

“As long as I can see you during every one of those days.”

After another lengthy kiss, Ethan reached for the hotel phone.

“What are you doing?” Kaycee asked.

“Calling the front desk.”

“Why?”

“Because check out is in a half hour, and we’re going to need this room longer.”

"Are we," she grinned. "I'm not on the schedule tomorrow; what about you?"

“Me?" Ethan beamed. "I’ll be calling out.”

"Good," Kaycee smiled, "Because we're going to need this room for another night."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

That song "Loser Baby" from Hazbin Hotel has been on my mind ever since I watched the video, and I'm like, ooooh, prompt idea ✨️✨️

Basically, Jason and Reader are both members of the Titans, Jason's going through some shit, thinking he's alone to deal with it because the other members never cared about his problems, so Reader is there to sort of comfort him!

WARNINGS: mentions of suicide, drug use, weaponry use

Notes: Based on HBO Titans, timelines are mixed, idk how a molotov cocktail works, just go w it, unrealistic gun use

Another day, another failed mission. Why? Jason took the impulsive decision to dive in, head first, into the first danger he saw, which led them to be ambushed by other criminals. Sure, they got the majority locked up, but now the others are spread around Gotham now trying to get backup.

And like most times, when Jason messes up now and again, the members start pointing fingers while Dick was at GCPD.

"We went through the plan a million times, kid," Hank grunts. "You wait for Dick's signal!"

"Yeah, yeah! I heard you the first time," Jason spits back. He's been hearing this ever since the whole fiasco ended up until now as everyone got back to the tower. "Get off my back, will you, at least I fuckin' tried, asshole."

"And we would've completed the mission successfully if you tried after Dick gave the cue," Kory chimes in. "You need to work on your patience."

"Whatever," Jason mumbles storming back into his room.

Just as he was, you were exiting your own room, located just beside Jason's.

"Hi, Jay, how was the- oh...kay?" Just as you were greeting the young vigilante, he ignored you, slamming his door shut.

You walk into the lobby. Though you were a member of the Titans, you didn't participate often in missions. You design and create weaponry for the other members, especially Dick and Jason, as they don't have any powers. You excused yourself from joining the missions because although you knew how and when to use your mechanics best, your combat and stealth skills aren't as advanced.

You picked up this interest of building and experimenting after a few downfalls earlier in your life before Dick found you and took you in.

You grew up on the not so upper class side of Gotham City, and you were not an intentionally planned kid. Your parents made bad decisions, weren't married, and both were struggling in their own way. But your dad soon realised that it was all too much for him. He couldn't take care of himself, let alone take care of a kid, his kid. Soon enough, he reached his limit and swallowed a few too many pills.

That's when your mom went spiralling into her own depression. She smoked more cigs, snorted more coke, and drank more alcohol. And when you were old enough to comprehend the profanity she spat at you, she figured that you were smart enough to live life on your own. So she kicked you out. Later that night, when you came back, just to double check if your mom was just on a high and didn't mean what she said, she was gone. The only evidence to prove she was there were the smashed bourbon bottles and and cigarette butts scattered across the floor.

You sat yourself on the couch, legs tucked into your chest as you wrapped your arms to secure them in place and waited patiently for your mom to come home.

But she never did.

Some bad people were after you, claiming that your mother had owed them a shit ton of money. When you told them you didn't know where she was, they said that you'd have to continue to pay back her debt. You had nowhere else to go. So every time they'd come knocking on your door, you'd bolt out through the fire escape.

You had a molotov cocktail in your hand, a little something you saw your dad do once when he was in a difficult situation such as yours. This is the first time you've tried to use it before. You're scared that saving the bottle would be a waste of time. What if you threw it and the fire just went out? What if it wouldn't have the effect you'd expect? What if it would hurt you too in the process??

You just prayed. Prayed for some sort of miracle. In your other hand, spray on deodorant that you stole from the grocery store a walk away from your apartment.

There's a recently abandoned one-story house just down the road.

Lure them there, spray the room, blow 'em up.

You repeated the plan to yourself. So many things can go wrong. You couldn't do anything but pray.

Your chest ached when you got to the building. You covered your face as you choked, inhaling the deodorant that you sprayed around the room.

"There they are!" One of the men yelled towards your direction. You waited. Just a couple seconds.

You ran out the back window as they crashed through the door. Looking back, you waited as much as you could, making sire as much of the men entered the house.

Now.

You lit the cloth on fire, using your mom's lighter, one of the things you kept, and threw it through the window. And just like that, the fire caught onto the particles of the deodorant, and as the bottle smashed to the concrete floor, the building as a whole burst into flames, the painful screams of men remaining in the house.

"Oh my god, it worked!" You said to yourself, panting as you continue to run away.

From then on, you experimented with other, easier ways to create the same kind of effect. You used scraps of metal, lead wires from lightbulbs, plus lightbulb shards to create explosives to protect you.

Soon, your knowledge of weaponry expanded. You managed to steal a gun from one of the men that were after you. You liked to know how things worked. And you liked to manipulate how they worked.

You spent your time disassembling your new gun and eventually created a new weapon of your own. You'd pretend to be too scared to use it, bad man grabs it off you, aim it at you, pulls the trigger, and boom. The bullet blows to the other end, towards their face.

Too bad luck wasn't completely on your side for long.

You screeched as you walked past an alley, your hair being grabbed and pulled by a large man. "Think you can get away from me, bitch?" A gruff voice spat.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, grasping as your scalp that's burning your skull. You heard the glint of a knife as the sharpness poked at your side.

"Please, please, no, please," you whispered, begging for your life to be spared.

"You better pray for a miracle, cunt," the man said, jabbing the knife into your side, then throwing you against the wall, leaving you to bleed out.

Your vision blurred and came to the conclusion that you were going to die.

That is... if some random stranger found you and decided to bring you back to what you found out to be "Titans Tower." Learning his name to be Richard 'Dick' Grayson understood you had no one to take care of you and that you were the one who caused that explosion. He also found your little gun, and the great detective saw how it's been rearranged.

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar area. You were bandaged up well, but you were still scared. You hissed, trying to sit up. At the same, Dick walks into the room, a trya with soup, a glass of water and a small tablet next to the glass all prepared.

Dick smiled, introducing himself and apologising for bringing you unconscious. He offered you a shelter, but also wanted to know more about you. How you ended up in the situation, who was after you, and how you managed to rearrange the gun.

He then took you under your wing, giving you your own room and even your own materials to create more weapons for yourself. These ranged from melee weapons, explosives, and hand to hand combat weapons.

Dick tried to train you in physical combat, but you admitted that no matter how hard you tried, your fighting skills won't really improve. So you offered to just create new defence weapons for the team and operate missions from the tower as the team went out.

A couple of months later, you met Jason Todd. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive, and his flirtatious attitude didn't help with your attraction towards him.

You also admired how skilled he was in fighting. Fighting a person while blindfolded? Fighting two people while they're all blindfolded? You wished to be just like him. But you were too shy to talk to him.

Jason speaks before thinking, and you were scared that he'd make fun of you for being part of the Titans without knowing basic combat and stealth skills. So you avoided him as much as you could.

But your guard was down as you had your headphones on, sitting on the couch in the lobby, sketching out a design for new throwing blades that could inject a liquid into the body to knock someone out for around half an hour.

"Why do I never see you around?" A curious voice chimes. One of your headphones laid off your ear, so you flinched when you heard someone begind you.

"Uhm, I.. I don't know what you're talking about," you quietly say, not sure how to confidently talk to the attractive boy.

"You're never out on missions or in the training room. Why are you here?" He says, arms leaning on the back of the couch, face dangerously close to yours

You shrugged. "I kind of make the weapons, I guess. I got those Rs of yours to send a shock wave of electricity," you replied, trying to identify yourself.

Jason tilts his head. "So, how come I never see you around training or missions? With weapons like them, I assume you would be useful out there."

You shake your head. "Fighting isn't really my forte. And my aim is never accurate," you explain, bracing yourself for the taunts.

"Huh. Want me to teach ya?" He offers.

Your head shoots towards him. "Uhm. Thanks, but Dick already tried training me. Trust me, I'd just be wasting your time and be a pain in your ass," you say, fidgeting with the pencil in your hand, kooking away from him.

"Nah, you trust me. I can teach you way better than Dickwad can. And if you still think fighting just isn't a thing for you, we can stop."

You stare up at him for a few moments before sighing and agreeing.

Surprisingly, Jason was able to teach you the basics, but that was as far as you could learn. Nonetheless, you were grateful that Jason taught you something that you could learn. You couldn't thank him enough. In return, you designed weaponry specifically suited for his fighting style.

From then on, you and Jason developed a beautiful friendship. Unfortunately, your crush on him only grew more.

But you and Jason were always there for each other. You never ran out of stories and fun talks to chat about. And eventually, little by little, the two of you opened up about your not so different pasts.

So when Jason stormed into his room after coming back from the mission while making absolutely no contact with you, it got you worried.

"Jeez, what happened?" You say as you walk to where the other members stood.

"Jason being Jason as always," Rachel mumbles.

"Uhh, Jason was just being eager. He's been trying to solve this case for weeks," Gar tries to reason out.

"If that little shit just stuck to the plan, his case would've been solved," Hank raises his voice as Dawn tries to calm him down.

"Just be patient with him. He didn't mean it," you try to calm everyone down.

"We can't be patient with him if he himself can't be patient," Donna calls out from the fridge, grabbing a drink.

"Listen, he's been through enough already, cut him some slack," you begin to get pissed off.

"If you're referring to when he got kidnapped, that was his fault too," Rachel says, sitting down on the couch.

"You know what wasn't his fault? Drawing crosses on your mirror, Rach. And that made all of you blame him for the other shit planted in your rooms. Do you know how much that shit hurt him? And none of you didn't even apologise! So, sorry, on behalf of him, that he wanted to show he was still strong enough even after he was kidnapped and dropped from a skyscraper. But have a little decency and time to understand why he acts the way he does," you ranted, not letting anyone reply as you stormed away.

During your times spent with Jason, you didn't miss his ADHD meds lying around, and eventually, he opened up to you about his therapy talks with Leslie, and you're glad it's somewhat helping. You just wushed you would be as much helo to him.

You knocked lightly on the door. "Jay?" You called out to him. You sighed when you were met with no response. You know he didn't tell you to come in, hut you were so worried for your best friend, so you entered his room.

His rock vinyl was spinning, and you took the pin off, making the loud mhsic stop abruptly.

Staring out the window, Jason turns to you, glaring at you.

"C'mon, it's just me, Jay. You can talk to me," you say.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, sure. Then you'd think of me like the others do," he says, his gaze returnint out the window.

"And how do they think of you, Jason?"

He shrugs. "Like a fucking loser," he croaks.

"That's because you are a loser," you deadpan. Jason's brows furrow in confusion as he looks at you once more. He honestly thought you'd start to go on a long, petty rant about you thinking otherwise.

You sighed, walking over to him, hding his hands and bring him over to his bed, sitting him down.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Jay. Your life sucks and I don't know if it's going to get better. There's a chance that it's not. You are a loser. You're spontaneous, make dumb decisions that don't always go well. But, you know? It's not entirely your fault. Your childhood sucks, your current family sucks and most of your teammates sucks. And you're just doing your best. You may be a loser, but guess what? I am, too. I can't fight, I can make weapons, but my aim is shit. My dad died, and my drug addict mom left me. I'm always alone i the tower because everyone else is out doing cool, superhero shit. I understand your pain, Jason. That's why we tell each other the shit we've been through. Because that load might be too heavy for only ourselves to carry. But I'm sure as hell it would be light as a feather if we carry both of our problems together," you choose your words carefully, your hands remaining on his, your thumb stroking his scarred skin.

Slowly, you move your hands, shifting them to link your pinky with his while he remains silent. "Jason, I promise you. I'm always going to be here to listen. I'm always going to be here for you. To help you in any way I possibly can."

Jason doesn't verbally reply. What he does, though, is nod and lean his head against your shoulder, tightening his grip around your hands.

[mrsshabana]

honestly i need a story time about the cult? also the link to that podcast, im intrigued now lol

𝐌𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭

Ok children gather around. It's story time 🤓

Note: Now I won't provide a link because I talk about a lot of personal stuff including my name and location, and I don't want so many people having access to that. But I don't mind telling my story here.

Content warning: Mentions of religious trauma and eating disorders

Ok, so let me set the scene. I was 18 and moved out of my parents' house. I lived in a ghetto apartment near my university where I was studying art.

Now when I moved out my parents stopped talking to me. So I really felt alone, I had no family, no friends, and I was in a new place so I was very desperate to have a connection with someone. So really I was the perfect victim for a cult because I was vulnerable.

One day I was walking out of the mathematics building when a student stopped me and asked me if I would like to read the bible with her. She was a Korean international student and she was really nice so I was like sure why not. Now at this point, I wasn't super religious but I did consider myself a Christian. But I never knew the bible very well and my family was the kind of family that only went to church on easter and Christmas.

So anyway, I read the bible with her and she explained it to me. The way she explained the passage was insinuating that there was a female version of god. That was something I had never heard of before but it was interesting to me so I decided to come with her to her bible study.

Long story short it ended up being this organization called "The World Mission Society Church of God." I went to their church and spent hours with them every Wednesday and Saturday because they made me feel accepted. They welcomed me and became like my family which I didn't have at the time.

Something I really loved about them was that their church was so diverse. There were so many different kinds of people there, I really felt welcome. Because growing up churches seemed so segregated. I'm biracial, my mom is white and my dad is black so growing up we either went to the white church or the black church. And at both I felt like people would stare at me and my family and that I wasn't welcome there.

So it felt really nice to have such a diverse church where I felt truly welcomed. Anyway, I ended up making a lot of friends there and I stayed with them for about 6 months. Then I figured out they were actually a cult. It's a long story but I won't go into it because this isn't even the main part yet.

After leaving the World Mission Society I felt really lonely again because I lost the only friends and sense of belonging I had. But I had to just keep going.

Maybe about 3 months later this random Korean guy approached me on campus and he asked me if I'd like to participate in a survey thing about the bible. I was skeptical at first because my previous church had told me that every Korean person was a part of their church. (Which obviously is NOT true). But my mind was thinking, "Oh no, what if they are trying to get back to me."

But I decided that it's not right to assume that this man is a part of that cult just because he's Korean. So I agreed to participate in this survey and I gave him my phone number.

Basically, a professor was writing a book where she'd answer people's most common questions about the bible. And she was surveying students to collect questions for the book. It sounded pretty cool to me so I was very interested.

I met up with the professor at a Starbucks on campus and I answered her questions about things I've always wondered about the bible. We'll call this lady Anya.

During our meeting, I expressed to Anya how I felt discarded by god because of my previous cult experience. I felt like I wasn't worthy of his love and I was very ashamed of what I did. Because we would literally pray to a human man who claimed to be god. After leaving I knew that wasn't true, and I figured god no longer loved me for what I did.

Anya was so encouraging and kind. She told me that is it 100% untrue, and that god does love me. That he put me through that experience for a reason and it only made me stronger.

Then she offered to do some bible study lessons with me so I could learn things the right way and start to feel a little bit better about my situation. And of course, I agreed. I was desperate to redeem myself and make friends again.

So I started going to this bible study once a week. Which turned to twice a week. Which turned into me going to some woman's house to have lessons. We'll call this woman Cara.

Cara was from Korea and so was her husband, they were extremely nice and welcomed me into their home. They would feed me ramen and cool snacks, and I honestly felt like a part of their family. There were lots of people in this bible study too and I made a ton of friends.

So fast forward, I had been studying the bible with them for about a year now. And nothing crazy, I was learning about the parables of the bible and the meanings of all those things in the bible that make no sense. It was very informative and interesting but nothing outlandish.

They sit us down for this big "reveal" about who the 2nd coming of Jesus is. Now they hyped it up so much and they told us that we can't judge this person no matter what. This whole time I thought it was going to be someone crazy like Kanye West or something. But no, it was an old Korean man.

He seemed unassuming enough? I had never heard of him so I didn't know why they made such a big deal out of it.

Now at this point, you are probably thinking, "Why the hell would you fall for this again?" Listen, trust me I was frustrated with myself when I left but you have to understand these people love-bombed me when I had no one. They became my family when I had none. They lied to me for an entire year so I'd trust them and get close to them before they revealed who they really were.

And they were a church called Shincheonji.

And I had no problem accepting this because these people had been my family and my best friends for an entire year. They'd feed me, watch movies with me, do anything to help me out. So I trusted them wholeheartedly. But really I was just being brainwashed.

So after I found out that they were Shincheonji they put me in their group for advanced students. And I'd begin studying multiple times a week at Cara's house and Anya was always there too. I would join the twice-weekly sermons via zoom as well. Where one of the Korean tribe leaders would give a sermon about something. I was in the Mathias tribe by the way, though that doesn't really matter.

I would do so so much with them, we even all went on a road trip to Houston where the other branch was. They even got me a birthday cake and surprised me for my birthday too. It was honestly great, and I loved them a lot.

We were basically encouraged to recruit as many people as we can because if we don't they will go to hell. They put so much pressure on us for this. They'd say things like, "Don't you want to save them?" And I am a very empathetic person so I felt like omg I want to save everyone! But on the other hand, ever since I joined Shincheonji my anxiety and depression went through the roof. The pressure to save the entire world is a lot for a 21-year-old girl. So I never recruited anyone myself because I didn't want them to have to struggle with the same mental health issues I did when I joined.

I also had some physical health issues arise as well. Their teachings would always preach how "The word of god is all the food we need." How spiritual food was more important than physical food. And that really stuck with me, especially when I got food poisoning and I couldn't eat solid food for two weeks. Something about not eating made me feel good. Like I didn't even need food because the word of god was enough, so why not just not eat at all? Not eating felt like the only thing I could control, so I clung to it. And I became anorexic. Being with Shinchenji was the only time I was ever considered underweight.

Anyway, I have so many crazy stories to tell about my time with them but I'll save those for another day.

I had been with them for about two and a half years before I started to question things.

We got a new teacher from Korea to replace Cara because she was going to have a baby. And this new teacher was a lot different and a lot less loving and nurturing than Cara had been.

She had said some things that I didn't agree with, and it started putting some doubt in my mind.

Ok so, on a side note I used to work at the library at my school doing data entry in the basement. And I would listen to podcasts a lot throughout the day as I did my work.

One day I found an interesting podcast about cults, where the host would bring cult victims onto the show and they'd tell their story. Well I was listening to an episode about the Moonies and I thought to myself, "Huh, they sound very similar to Shincheonji in some ways..."

But I knew I could not think such thoughts and that if I did any research then the devil would poison me through the internet. And I needed to strengthen my spirit for even thinking of such a thing.

So I went to reddit, and I found a subreddit called r/Shincheonji. I was like, "Oh yes! Now I can talk to other Shincheonji members and we can strengthen each other's faith!"

But it wasn't a subreddit for believers. It was a subreddit for ex-members and people who were against Shincheonji.

And at this point, I had already seen enough to plant that seed of doubt in me. I read more and more even though Shincheonji warned me I'd be poisoned if I ever researched them. But I couldn't stop myself.

I went through so much inner turmoil, you guys have no idea. My reality was crumbling so hard and I felt like my world was ending. It's hard to explain, but I was so indoctrinated and brainwashed by this point. This really ruined me.

I had to mourn the loss of all of the family and friends I gained these past years. I would cry almost every night because I missed them, and it was so hard to accept that they never truly loved me at all. To be honest, I still think about some of them to this day and I hope they got out and found peace in their lives.

No one in my life had known I was a part of Shincheonji. My closest friends nor my family, who had slowly started talking to me again. But I had to tell someone so I told my childhood best friend, we'll call him Blaine.

I got in a Playstation party with Blaine and I just cried. I cried so so much, and he was so confused. But eventually, I told him everything. And he was really supportive and gave me no judgment at all.

My main issue was, how could I leave? I have quite literally been living a double life this entire time and not having that scared the shit out of me. But Blaine advised me to cut them off completely and just leave without saying anything. Because his concern was that if they got the chance to talk to me, they would most certainly be able to pull me back in. And I know them well enough to know this is true. So that's exactly what I did, I left and went cold turkey. I even went as far as changing my work schedule too.

And here's where things get creepy.

I hadn't spoken to them for about a week now, and I'm at work. I'm working as usual in the basement on the computers and low and behold, three girls walk in. Girls from my cult, girls that I was close to.

Now students aren't allowed to just waltz into this room so they had some big balls to do that. But the weird thing was, I had completely changed my schedule and I was working on a day I normally had off. They should have had no idea I was there.

But here they were, holding a large cup of boba from my favorite place. And in my favorite flavor too, winter milk cap with mango popping bubbles.

They came up to me and said, "Hey girl, we noticed you haven't been coming to worship lately. Is everything alright?"

I said, "Oh uh yeah everything's fine! I've just been super busy with work and a ton of projects for class..."

"Ok, well we got this for you," they handed me the boba, "We were hoping to talk to you. We can wait for you outside and talk to you when you get off."

I started panicking so I said, "My mom is actually picking me up as soon as I get off so I won't be able to, I'm sorry! Maybe another time though, I'll text you."

They were convinced by my response so they left. And boy did I RUN so fucking fast after I got off work. I even called Blaine so he could talk to me in case they came after me, but luckily they didn't and I got home ok.

He started yelling at me for drinking the boba saying, "YOU IDIOT! THEY PROBABLY POISONED IT!"

But hey, free boba is free boba.

Anyway, after that event I knew I had to text that girl and tell her I was deciding to leave Shinchenji because I didn't want them to show up at my job again or follow me around.

So I texted her, trying to be as nice as possible and explain to her that I just couldn't do it anymore. I told her how this affected my mental health and my physical health. How I developed an eating disorder from being in Shincheonji too.

Her response was really rude and condescending. She said my mental health issues and my eating disorder were my fault and the work of satan trying to blame them. She told me that once I leave I can never be accepted into heaven, that I'm damning myself to hell as well as all of my family members. I'll be honest, she made me feel incredibly guilty and selfish for leaving. Their teachings were still ingrained in me. But I knew that I could never return after everything, so I blocked her and never spoke to her again.

Oh yeah and that book the professor was writing in the beginning, that wasn't real and she wasn't a professor. It was just a ruse to lure students in.

I will admit I could never get their teachings out of my head. And to this day, even though I know they were wrong, a part of me believes I am going to hell for what I did and all of my family will suffer because of me. So now I can't even look at a bible, and I no longer consider myself religious.

And after this experience, I reached out to that cult podcast that helped me realize I was also in a cult, and I got an episode of my own where I got to tell my story.

So yeah haha that's my story!

Today only my close friends know, and I never told my parents. They still have no idea and honestly, I don't know if I will ever tell them.

I'm still really plagued by a lot of things they did, and my worldview has never been the same. My life has never been the same. But I've been cult free for about 2 years now so I'm just taking it one day at a time.

I'm sorry this was so long. But if you read the whole thing I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading my story. And if you are a college student, please be careful because cults like this are rampant on college campuses, especially in the U.S.

After leaving the cult, I needed something to obsess over, something to make me feel normal. And that was Gyutaro! And I gotta say, obsessing over him is much healthier than obsessing over the teachings of a cult.

Anyway, I want you all to know that this blog has been an escape for me and helped me to feel normal again after this experience. And I don't need a cult to make me feel loved anymore. Because I have all of you :)

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 4/8

Summary - After a traffic accident reader is left with no memory of her life with Ruben, who desperately tries to get her to remember him.

Enjoy!

You walked into the lecture hall, heart racing as you took a seat. It had been months since the traffic accident that left you with no memory of your life. Returning to university you hoped that familiar surroundings and familiar faces would help you regain some of your lost memories. But as you looked around the room, you realized that you didn't recognize anyone.

A sense of panic washed over you. Who were you before the accident? What had you been like? What were your interests? You glanced down at your notes, hoping to find some clues, but they were all blank. You had no memory of ever taking the course before, let alone studying for it. As the lecture began, you felt like an outsider, watching the other students as they took notes and participated in discussions. You longed to be able to do the same, but you just couldn't remember how.

After class, you approached one of your former classmates, hoping that maybe he could help you. "Hi, do you remember me?" You asked hesitantly.

The boy looked at you blankly before shaking his head. "I don't think so," he said kindly. "I'm sorry."

You felt a sting of disappointment, but you didn't give up. You approached another classmate, and another, but no one recognized you. It was as if you had never existed before the accident.

Back home you trudged through the front door, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. You could feel the weight of the day dragging you down, like an anchor tied to your ankles. Luckily Ruben wasn't home from training to ask you how your day went. What would you even tell him?

You locked yourself in your bedroom , throwing your purse and phone onto the bed before collapsing onto the soft pillows. You could call your parents but then again you didn't want to talk to anyone. You didn't want to think in general. All you wanted to do was to remember.

You closed your eyes for what felt like a minute, waking up to a light knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" It was Ruben, knocking on the door. You didn't respond. He tried again, his voice a little softer. "Dinner is ready if you're hungry."

"I'm not hungry." You groaned.

"Oh, okay. Have you eaten already?"

"Yes." You lied.

Ruben was only trying to be supportive, but you just couldn't bring yourself to talk. Not yet. Maybe never.

The minutes ticked by, you heard Ruben wander off to the kitchen. You could hear the sound of the fridge opening, the clink of dishes being set down. Your stomach growled, but you didn't have the energy to get up and get a snack.

Maybe an hour had gone by when you heard the sound of the door opening, and Ruben's footsteps approaching. He sat down beside you on the bed, his hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, I brought you some food," he held up a plate of crackers and cheese. "I know you're not hungry, but I thought you might want something to eat."

You looked up at him, feeling a lump form in your throat. You knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You took a deep breath and let it out in a rush.

"It was a rough day, but I don't want to talk about it."

Ruben just nodded, his hand still on your shoulder. He handed you a cracker. You took a bite, the salty flavor filling your mouth.

"I'm here for you," he said. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here."

You nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

You sat up in bed.

"Were we happy?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

"In our marrige, were we happy, like before my accident?" You never imagined you'd be married at the age of twenty four. What you and Ruben had together must have been special.

He looked at you a bit taken back. "Yes. I'd say that we were happy. Very happy actually."

"How do you know?"

Ruben's eyebrows furrowed.

"Did I tell you that I was happy, like with words?"

"Y/N, whatever happened today..."

"Forget about that." You waved. "I just want to know if there was ever a time in our relationship that I wasn't happy and if I ever told you the reason?" Like the fact that nobody in your class knew of you.

Ruben sighed, looking to try his best to give you an answer that would satisfy you. "There was a time not long before the accident..."

"Yes?"

"You were often tired and struggling with food. But it wasn't necessarily because you were unhappy. You were also..."

"What? I was what?"

Ruben hesitated. "Y/N what really happned today? Please, you can tell me."

You shook your head. "I went to class and it wasn't what I expected, that's all."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I still think I have to go back there. For my memory."

He nodded. "I understand."

You tilted your body, letting it rest against Ruben's. For the moment he was all you had. The only thing about your past and present to hold on to.

"Another question." You said.

"Shoot."

"Do you have any fears?"

You looked up to see Ruben pondering the question.

"Yes." He said. "Many fears, actually."

"Oh, yeah? What's your biggest one?"

Ruben chest rose and fell as he let out a deep sigh. "My biggest fear is probably that you'll do remember me someday. But that you'll realize that I'm not enough for you, that you'd want to leave."

"Oh."

Not the answer you expected from him. It was deep and honest.

"My biggest fear is that I'll do remember my life before the accident. I'm afraid I'll remember it and not be satisfied with who I've become as a person."

"Compared to...?"

"Who I was as a child."

Ruben nodded. "Well, I've also had that fear. But I've realized that growing up isn't somthing worth fearing, especially if you are surrounded by people you love and people that love you."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"What?"

"Surrounding yourself with people that you love and people that love you. It's the same thing, no?"

Ruben shook his head.

"It's not? Elaborate please."

"Well, right now I'm sitting next to you, right? I'm surrounded by you."

"Right."

"However, that doesn't necessarily mean that you love me."

"I guess not." You thought about it, how you felt about Ruben. He made you feel safe, yes. And there was definitely more feelings to unfold within you, but love... you weren't sure if you were ready to express those words exactly.

"I'm so sorry Ruben."

"For what?" He frowned.

"I can't imagine how confusing this must be for you too."  Here you were feeling sorry for yourself. Forget about strangers in a classroom not knowing who you are. You couldn't imagine having your loved ones forget about you.

"We're in this together right?" Ruben said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Right." You nodded. "Together."

[alyswritings]

Don't Hit

Request: Hi I love your work! Is there any chance you could make a JJ maybank x sister reader? The reader is young, 8 years old, she makes JJ mad and she thinks he is going to hit her so she screams like ‘I’m sorry, please don’t hit me’ and he instantly feels bad. Then she apologises and runs out of the chateau to John B and pope

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: JJ accidentally scares his baby sister.

Warnings: mentions of abuse

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

When JJ was seven, his dad somehow managed to hold down a girlfriend for a few months. What anybody would see in Luke Maybank, JJ didn't know. He was always drunk or high and he's scary when he's mad.

By time JJ was eight, Luke's ex-girlfriend had dropped a baby girl off at the Maybank family's doorstep. All that came with her was her birth certificate and a note explaining that she was Luke's kid and that her mother couldn't handle it, so she left her with Luke.

JJ wasn't sure about keeping the baby. Sure, he always wanted a sibling, but he knew that if she stayed there was a chance he'd have to go through what he did. And he wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even some stuck up kook.

Luke always talked about giving her away, but he never actually cared enough to drop her off somewhere. Despite always saying he'd take her to a fire station or orphanage or something, it somehow ended up never happening, and before they knew it, Y/N was officially growing up in their care. Well, JJ's care.

Luke didn't do anything, JJ taking on all of the responsibilities. He went to the chateau and got Big John to teach him how to change diapers, what babies can and can't eat, tricks to help her fall asleep when she's fussy.

Big John let JJ and Y/N spend the night whenever they needed. As Y/N started to grow up, JJ got help from both Big John and Pope's parents. It was much easier when she entered school so that JJ didn't have to worry about where she'd be while he went to school.

He missed a lot of school days, passing by some weird miracle. Luke only participated in the whole procedure to get Y/N into school since he knew it meant she'd be out of the house more.

While Luke often says mean and vile things to Y/N, she's only been a victim of his physical abuse a handful of times. JJ always manages to protect her and makes sure he takes any hits that could be given to her.

All of the pogues treating Y/N like their own little sister. The only time she's really not with them is when they go to keggers.

JJ and Y/N are currently at the chateau, like they usually are. Aside from John B, Pope is the only other pogue there. The three guys are outside while Y/N is inside.

Y/N is playing with her toys, dressed up in a princess dress. Y/N is trying to make a fort and needs the blanket. She pulls it off a bit and shakes it, trying to flatten it out.

She hears something crash into the wall and then a thump on the floor. Y/N drops the blanket, walking around the other side of the bed, finding JJ's phone on the floor.

Y/N nervously picks it up, her heart dropping at the big crack on the screen. Y/N tries to turn it on, but doesn't get anything.

"No, no, no." She mumbles. JJ usually doesn't get too mad at her for anything, understanding she's still young and also that mistakes happen. Even when he does have to be stern, he still doesn't really scare.

Y/N hears the door to the house open and then slam shut and footsteps move closer to the room. She stands upright, holding the phone behind her back, watching JJ walk in.

"Hey, Y/N. Have you seen my phone? I gotta show the guys something." JJ says, not really giving her a look as he continues to rummage around for his phone.

"Um..." She mumbles, trying to think of how to tell him.

"Why is the blanket all fucked up?" JJ asks, but sees the chairs, realizing she wanted to make a fort. "Oh, cool. You need help with the fort?"

"Uh..." She whispers nervously. JJ turns to her, finally noticing the nervous look in her eye.

"Whoa, hey, what's wrong?" JJ asks.

"I... I didn't mean to." Y/N mumbles.

"Mean to what?" JJ asks.

Y/N looks down and she holds the broken phone out. JJ snatches the phone out of her hand, looking at the cracked screen. He tries to turn it on, tapping it a few times.

"Oh, come on, come on. No, no, no." JJ quietly whines. "What the fuck?" He harshly whispers, mostly to himself more so than Y/N. She glances up at him, anxiously fiddling with her dress. "What the hell happened?"

"I... I accidentally threw it." Y/N timidly answers.

"Accidentally threw it? How the hell do you accidentally throw something? Y/N, you know not to touch my shit! Especially if it's fucking breakable!" JJ yells. Y/N whines a little, tears gathering in her eyes. "I've told you, don't mess with things that aren't yours and you have to be careful with my phone! You know better than that!"

"I-- I'm sorry." Y/N says.

"I need this thing for work, but now it's freaking broken!"

"I'm sorry! Please don't hit me!" The eight year old sobs.

JJ freezes at her words, his face paling at the mere idea of him laying a hand on her. He swears he feels his heart shatter as he looks into her scared eyes full of tears which stream down her face.

While JJ has been able to save her from most of the abuse, he still hasn't been able to completely hide her from it. She's seen Luke hit JJ on multiple occasions, it scaring her almost as much as when he tries to hurt her.

"Kiddo, I'm not--" JJ holds a hand out to touch her shoulder, his heart dropping and tears springing to his eyes when she flinches away from him.

"I'm sorry!" Y/N hiccups, running out of the room, and a moment later, JJ hears the screen door fall shut. JJ takes the best deep breath he can. He feels anger at himself and he throws his phone across the room, it breaking.

JJ lets a small sob out, sitting on the bed, burying his hands in his hair.

Y/N runs out to where John B and Pope are sitting and she crashes into Pope.

"Whoa." Pope mumbles, making sure his beer doesn't spill on her. The two share confused looks before hearing her crying. Pope wraps his arms around her tightly, rubbing her back. "What happened?"

Y/N doesn't answer, only continuing to sob. Pope puts his beer down and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her more, trying to console her.

John B puts his beer down and gets up, rushing inside the chateau. He goes into the bedroom, finding JJ sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck happened with Y/N? She's out there, soaking Pope's shirt with her tears." John B says. "Dude, what's up?" He asks after JJ doesn't answer.

JJ finally lifts his head, John B noticing the rim of the blonde's eyes red. His eyes are glossy with tears and there tear stains on both his cheeks.

"Dude, what the hell happened?" John B asks, his voice both now holding confusion and concern.

"I didn't mean to." JJ mumbles.

"Mean to what?" John B asks, sitting next to his best friend.

"I... I scared her. I'm my fucking dad, man." JJ sniffles.

"No. No, JJ, you're not your dad." John B argues. "Look, just tell me what happened?"

"I... I came in, looking for my phone. And-- and I couldn't find it, and then she was holding it and-- and it was cracked. And I don't-- I mean, I was mad, but I wasn't that mad. I wasn't mad enough to snap at her, I-- fuck. I fucked up."

"She broke your phone?" John B asks.

"Accidentally." JJ says. "She-- she said she accidentally threw it." JJ says. "But she... I-I was yelling and-- and she was crying and... she asked me not to hit her." He says, his voice quiet as it breaks. "She thought I was gonna hit her." He cries, pressing his eyes into the palms of his hands to keep the tears in.

John B's not completely sure what to do, but places a comforting hand on his friend's back, letting him know he's there.

"JJ, you're not your dad." John B states, his voice soft but also firm so he gets his point across. "Sometimes people snap and they yell. You just have to apologize and she'll be okay."

"We don't know that." JJ says.

"Yes, we do. She loves you more than anything, JJ. And she knows you'd never hurt her." John B says.

"No, man, she flinched." JJ states. "I-- I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder or-or hold onto her hand, and-- and she flinched. I made her flinch."

"Kids can be jumpy." John B shrugs, trying to dismiss it.

"So it's just a coincidence she flinched at her brother who kept yelling after being traumatized by watching her dad hit said brother countless times?"

"Yes." John B nods. JJ gives him a look. "J, look, just-- just you know, calm down. Collect yourself so you don't break down in front of her or something, and then go talk to her. She'll forgive you, it'll be all right."

John B pats him on the back before leaving to let JJ have some time alone.

- - -

JJ managed to calm down eventually and he makes his way outside. He sees John B and Pope by the porch and they both point out Y/N who is on the hammock.

JJ walks over, seeing Y/N playing with a handful of flowers he knows she picked from somewhere around the chateau.

"Munchkin." He gently calls. Y/N looks up, quickly looking back down. JJ harshly swallows, doing his best to keep his emotions under control. "Can I sit down?" He asks, reaching out towards the hammock.

Y/N seems to consider for a moment before nodding. JJ sits on the hammock, keeping whatever distance he can from her so he doesn't scare her off.

"Look, sweetie, I... I am so sorry... for yelling at you -- for scaring you. I never wanted to scare you or-or yell at you. I should've been calmer about it. And I'm really, really sorry." JJ tells her.

"I'm sorry I broke your phone." Y/N frowns.

"Can you tell me how it broke?" JJ asks. Y/N nervously glances up at him. "It's okay. I won't be mad, I promise." Y/N stares at him for a few seconds, comforted by the reassuring, soft look in his eyes.

"I... I wanted to make a fort. I needed the blanket and-- and I shook it so I could get it flat. And then I... I heard something hit the wall and it was your phone. I got... I just got really scared and I didn't want you to hate me or hurt me like dad does." She sniffles.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. It's okay." JJ reassures. He goes to hold her, but stops, remembering how she flinched last time he reached out. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, I'm not mad. I'm not mad. I don't hate you. I'm not gonna hurt you." JJ promises.

"I'm... I'm sorry I flinched." Y/N says, a few tears falling down her face.

"It's okay. It-- I should've known better. The emotions were too high for physical contact. It's okay." JJ says.

Y/N puts the flowers down and gets up, tightly hugging JJ. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her, feeling relieved she's not scared of him enough to not let him hug her. He holds onto her as tightly as he can without hurting her.

Y/N buries her face in his shoulder and starts to sob making JJ tighten his grip.

"It's okay, munchkin. I got you. I got you." JJ soothes.

"I don't-- I don't like daddy." Y/N sobs.

"I know, baby. I know." JJ says quietly. He closes his eyes, trying to keep his tears in so he doesn't start crying. He strokes her hair, kissing the side of her head. He wishes she didn't have any experience with their dad. Part of him wishes her mom would've kept her because then she'd never know Luke or the pain he's capable of causing.

"I got you, munchkin. I got you." JJ continues to comfort.

After a while, Y/N's cries start to cease and she cuddles into JJ's chest. He keeps his arms around her, his head resting on top of hers as he plays with the ends of her hair.

"Hey." JJ quietly calls, lifting his head. Y/N looks up at him and he cups her face. "You need to know that I would never, never, ever hit you. I will in no way ever cause you any sort of injury or pain. As you get older, and with me responsible for you, we'll probably fight sometimes, but I will never hurt you. Okay?"

"I know." Y/N nods.

"You do?" JJ asks and Y/N nods, giving him a small smile. "Okay." He whispers. He kisses her on the forehead, bringing her back into another hug, swaying them back and forth a little.

Y/N pulls out of his hold and grabs her flowers. She picks a yellow daisy out and smiles as she places it behind JJ's ear.

"What's that for?" JJ asks.

"You look pretty." Y/N grins, patting his cheek. JJ chuckles.

"Okay." He mutters, grabbing one of the purple flowers. He tucks it behind his sister's ear, making sure it says. Y/N giggles, hugging JJ again.

"So... you still wanna go build a fort?" JJ asks. Y/N gasps, excitedly nodding. JJ softly smiles, glad to see her usual happy grin and sparkling eyes.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @itsmaneskinbitch @ironmaiden1313

[hoeforhao]

Chipmunk Cheeks 🍥🧁🍡🍧|| Joshua Oneshot ||

ꔫ pairing: husband!joshua × wife!reader

ꔫ summary: your arranged husband takes care of you in your period pain.

ꔫ genre: pure fluff,mentions of blood and pain, reader sort of has body dysmorphia

ꔫ series: svt as boyfriends

ꔫ author's note: walking into the traffic if i don't find myself a joshua hong cuz am dying from period cramps atm!!

Masterlist

Marriage was never on your book of life and wouldn't ever be your cup of ale. Did your parents know this since the very beginning? Yes! Yet they absolutely went out of their capacity to defy your choices and arrange your betrothal to none other than the Hong Joshua.

Mrs Hong was your mother's colleague, more specifically her best gossip buddy. They were literally known as the gadgets of their office. And when both the women saw that their little ones are getting old with no potential chance of finding their partners by themselves, they settled upon the dreaded agreement.

All your pleas about not wanting to get married to someone you have barely had three to four conversations with, someone whose entire personality, preferences literally everything was unknown to you, were completely left unheard by your parents. Apparently they wanted their daughter to have a "secured future". Literal BULLSHIT.

The most terrifying day of your life was just two weeks ago and here you lay whimpering in pain on the bed of someone you've barely spoken to or looked at since the wedding.

"What a nice time for you to pay your visit, you bastard" you internally curse at your periods.

Yes you're basically dying from period cramps. You didn't know where the nearby medical shop was around here neither did you've the energy to go downstairs and get yourself a hot pack. You were quite literally awaiting your death from organ crumbling pain in your ''husband's room". Too dramatic for just period cramps? Yes! But why react to anything normally when you've the option to absolutely lose your mind over it.

You were so damn lost in your nonsense rantings to the walls of your room, that you failed to register joshua being back from work already.

Finding the house engulfed in absolute silence made his nerves falter for a moment. Usually it would either be filled with loud tv noises of you watching cinnamoroll on the couch or clanking of the utensils as you baked yourself another new dessert recipe.

He quickly throws his coat over the armrest and hops towards your room with those little bunny legs of his ; only to find you completely curled up like a boba ball under the blankets as small painful moans echoed through the walls.

"Y/n, w-what's wrong?" you jolt up from your little coocon as Joshua's warm hands grazes against your forehead.

"Are you okay? You don't seem to have a fever. Did you've a bad day? Did anyone make you cry? Are you missing your parents? If so let's go to their place right now" he grabs your arm gently to pull you out of the bed.

"Would you let me answer or just assume things by yourself Josh!" you unwrap your hands from his while literally burning holes into his face.

"Y-yeah sorry. I was just wo- umm worried." his face hangs low from embarrassment or maybe even a bit of hurt? Not being able to understand what's bothering his wife.

"It's okay. I was j-just having really bad p-period cramps" your face now starts turning crimson, not because talking about periods with a man makes you uncomfortable but because it was h-him...your 'arranged husband'.

"Oh my god Y/n why didn't you call me!!!! I would've run back home from office immediately and brought you treats. Did you eat anything? Where is your hotbag!! Goddamn girl why aren't you taking care of yourself" you wonder if joshua participated in speed talking competitions earlier judging his ability to blurt out sentences without a single pause.

"Calm down Mr Bunny Teeth!!! It's nothing special. I've these every month. The pain will ease out gradually." you nod at him trying to reassure the man that you're infact, not dying.

"No no no way you can talk this so lightly!!! What if you burst from the pain huh! I can't clean up a bloody mess. Hell No" Joshua's last remarks ends up earning him a hard smack from you, making both you chuckle lightly. Dang your husband was even more dramatic than you!

"No seriously tho, you need to take care and pamper yourself during these days. Wait I'll get you some treats" he stands up from the end of your bed to leave towards the kitchen when your arms grabs his from the back.

"I-i don't e-eat sweets or rather I umm can't" your face droops low trying to fight the stray tear making its way onto your lap.

Joshua turns towards you in a swish and bends down to the floor, not caring about bruising his knees on the cold marble; both of his palms reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Why y/n?" a two word sentence was enough to make you break down into a crying mess.

"I - i was a-always told that I'm f-fat and s-so i stopped e-eating my favorite food w-which was s-sweets" you were talking like a five year old, words mixed up with your sobbing and face stained with snot and tears at the same time.

Joshua's firm hands gently grazed over your face as he wiped the mess off of it with his satin white shirt, while the other refused to leave your cheeks.

"You will eat as many sweets as you want love, as you buckets of ice cream you wanna feast on. And I'll be sitting right here infront of you so that each time you think about stopping yourself because of what the world thinks, your face will be planted with a kiss." you've turned completely red by the choice of his last word, the pain in your belly now mixed with a tingling sensation.

"You are perfect the way you're y/n! I can't even imagine a single milligram of you leaving this world. Like omg just think what a great loss will this universe face then!!! I want to see you eat to your heart's content, enjoy each and every meal. Do you even know how bright that smile of your glares when you munch on your food like a happy raccoon, cheeks stuffed up like a smol little chipmunk."

"S-shua you-"

"Sshh! No more words love. Sit here 'til I bring all the food from downstairs and then we'll sit together and watch sanrio, okay chipmunk?" Joshua's slender fingers draw against your lips, sending a flutter of butterflies all over your bones.

Sitting on the bed like an obedient wife you wait for him to arrange a literal feast of sweet treats infront of you, alongside tucking you into the duvet with the hot bag on your belly, making a literal cinnamon roll out of you ; wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your head now rests on his, taking in the sweet scent of his lilac cologne as you two draw yourselves into solace while watching tv together.

"Marriage isn't that scary afterall"

[timomoe]

What are your thoughts about the split between the immortal personification as an individual and the immortal personification as a symbol of the state? I read your post about Sweden's (the character) cruel behavior in the past and can't say I agree with it. I think there should be a clear separation between the actions of the state and the personification. It's more reasonable that a personification is a representative of the culture and people, not a state's authorities alone. It's also vulnerable to historical bias when certain sources can cast historical events in a very positive or negative light, for instance the idea that Swedish authorities were exceptionally cruel to Finland, which is unusually negative and not a fair representation of the relationship between them in my (Swedish) experience.

Besides, making the personification carry out the actions of the state also means that the fictional character affected real-life historical events. The unfortunate implication is lessening or excusing the actions of the real people who planned and carried out those events.

See, the thing about this is that while Sweden is a personification of the people, and I typically think of nations as such, they're still people. People who can and probably have fallen prey to propaganda, lies, "re-education" in Sweden's case, and other such things.

To be more specific, I'll share more of my hcs regarding him with you.

I like to think there's a 50/50 split between a nation first being a human, dying, and becoming a nation, and a rep just appearing one day. Sweden was the former, born around 900.

He was a very weak and sickly child born to the old Norse - and this is a very bad thing. You may know that Spartans would abandon sick/weak/disabled kids to die, but did you know that the old Norse did the same thing? When Sweden was about 4, his parents abandoned him in the woods, and he died. And then he came back, as he was "chosen" to be the nation of Sweden. His parents then tried to get rid of him 3 more times (abandoned him in the woods one more time, and threw him in the ocean twice).

No one really knew what to make of him or what to do with him. Was he a god? A demigod? An evil entity? Half jotun? No one really knew, so they kept a distance between him and the rest of the group. They kept him busy with menial labor they didn't want to do.

Sweden went unwanted and unloved by his people for the ENTIRE TIME he was a child. And then the kingdom of Sweden properly formed, and he was taken to live with his royals. He was fed there, clothed well, given medical care, education, everything he could ever want. And he began to internalize the idea that he owed his existence to the royalty, NOT the people, as the people had been his biggest antagonists since the day he walked back out of the forest and back to his family. And the government took full advantage of this. Who wouldn't want an undying soldier to do everything they asked?

I would also like to note that I explicitly (/lh) stated that Sweden's cruelty and Finland's abhorrent treatment were not due to any exceptionally horrible history between the two; while Sweden DID colonize Finland, it wasn't as nasty as my out of context headcanons would lead you to believe. As said in that post, Sweden's cruelty towards Finland came from their personalities being exactly opposite, Sweden being hungry for control and dominance, being under intense pressure, and Finland taking the blame or covering for mishaps by other nations in the house, making Sweden believe that he was simply the worst behaved and most in need of a harsh lesson.

As a side note, we also have characters being forced to do things by their government canonically (such as mass killing as a specific example, Russia participated in Bloody Sunday, despite not wanting to) so to me it also seems correct that a government would also take advantage of a young and frightened boy and try to turn him into a soldier fit for whatever purpose they need him for. Even if they are a representative of the people, the government can still force them to do what they want, and probably could make them believe that they do represent the government.

Note that your last point is specifically why I never mention what events, what battles, or other such things Sweden is involved in. It does separate them a little. And I understand that this sort of thing isn't for everyone, and that's perfectly fine.

[xoxoavenger]

When You Are Young

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: Vintage tee, brand new phone/High heels on cobblestones/When you are young, they assume you know nothing/Sequin smile, black lipstick/Sensual politics/When you are young, they assume you know nothing

word count: 1862

warnings: reader has uncaring family (no physical abuse)

cardigan masterlist

12 Days of Christmas main masterlist

She was sitting nicely at the Country Club, head resting on a closed fist and pretending to be interested in what her father was saying. He wouldn't let her be on her phone, a lesson she learned the hard way when she went to text JJ back and her father had gotten so angry they left immediately and she couldn't have her phone for a week.

She moved her eyes to roam slightly, taking in the beach and the perfect green grass and the workers all in their suits and JJ and the flowers and-

JJ.

Her eyes widened and she sat up slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. He was sneaking around the grass, staying out of sight of all the other kooks who laughed delicately and sipped their wine and didn't have anything better to do.

"I have to go to the bathroom." She said suddenly, ignoring the way her mother glared. She winked at JJ before walking into the building, hoping her parents didn't see him following her but not caring at all if they somehow did.

She was barely in the girls bathroom when JJ attacked her in a hug, kissing her neck and cheek as she giggled and put her arms around his neck. She had seen him only yesterday, but this seemed like forever ago after practically living together the first part of the summer. She told her parents she was staying with Kie while Kiara told her parents she was staying with Y/N, which caused problems when after not coming home for two and a half weeks they finally talked.

Y/N tripped over her heels, JJ holding her to himself around the waist and causing them both to fall a little bit before JJ stopped them. He grabbed the bottom of her dress and lifted it up to palm her ass, picking her up and putting her up on the counter.

"J, this is a public bathroom." She was mostly teasing, because she knows that they'd hear the high stilettos of anyone who wanted to come into the bathroom long before they came in.

"Does it look like I give a shit?" JJ asked, sighing as she hooked her ankles behind his back, pulling him close.

"I have never known you to give a shit." She chuckles, causing him to smile as he leans in and kisses her deeply.

"Why are you here?" She asks, almost regretting it because she knows that they have a minute left.

"I haven't seen you in too long. I want you to come back to the Chateau." He whines, and she frowns.

"I can't believe I let my parents catch me." She lets JJ help her down, fixing her hair.

"It'll be okay." She lets herself look at his face while soaking in the last couple seconds they have.

When she goes back to the table, her parents are talking to different people. She doesn't really know what to do, either not liking or not knowing anyone her age there. She watched JJ run away, trying to evade security, but once he was gone she was alone.

She walks up to her mom, who pays no attention to her. They're talking about some type of magazine and it's contents this month, and it isn't until her mothers friend turned to her that she was finally allowed to participate.

"Y/N doesn't know about these things yet." Her mother laughed, and Y/N felt her face heat. How could her mother embarrass her like this, especially in front of her own friends? And what was she supposed to say to that? She didn't know that much about what was 'in season' or what she was supposed to wear. She put on what her mother told her to when she was forced to attend outings with her family, but otherwise she didn't really care.

This led to her acting out at Halloween, deciding to stray from her mother's theme of Disney. Her family always won the group costume, and this year she knew her siblings would be dressed as princesses and princes - despite their annoyed sighs and the fact that they would change as soon as they left the Country Club - and her mother would be a queen, her father a king. Y/N was staring at the beautiful dress on her bed, mourning it for a moment. She would even be inclined to wear it if her mother's words didn't replay during every moment of her routine during the day. So instead, with the help of Sarah and Kie, Y/N went for the most opposite thing she could find, making sure she could match JJ.

They would be Sandy and Danny. But not from Summer Nights, where she wore a flowy skirt and a blouse. No, she was wearing tight jeans and an even tighter shirt, her black leather jacket popping against them.

Her mother was going to hate her.

"Y/N, we have to go!" Her mother called out, but Y/N knew she couldn't leave with her mother; she'd just be forced to change.

"I'll take my own car! Just gotta finish up!" Timing was perfect, it seemed, as just that moment JJ climbed through her open window, rolling on the floor and standing quickly, a strand of gelled back hair falling into his eyes. She smiled, taking in his matching costume.

"You look," JJ said as the door downstairs slammed shut and everyone headed to the car.

"Not as good as you." Y/N smiled as he pulled her close, hands around her hips and her's around his neck.

"Better." He leaned forward to kiss her, smudging her lipstick slightly while she messed up his hair.

"It would be better if you would just come with me to the Club." They had talked about it before, how she would either be kicked out or leave early to go to the party the Pouges were throwing after.

"I think that'd just speed run the process of you getting kicked out." JJ laughs, kissing her once more. "Now, fix your makeup, and then you can show up in real style - on the back of my bike." Y/N throws her head back in laugher and moves away as JJ releases her, letting her fix her makeup as he fixes his hair over her reflection. A couple minutes later they're on his bike, her arms tight around him. When they get to the Country Club, music is blasting.

"I'll see you soon." JJ tells her with a smirk as she takes the helmet off, smiling at him. No one has noticed her arrival, not yet, but they will. Y/N thinks she can't wait to see what Kiara and Sarah have planned to leave early, or if they'll even show up.

Y/N strides in, heart racing slightly, but she doesn't feel regret. She smiles at the bouncers, who hide their surprise well. She knows they recognize her - they do let her in anyway. It's once she gets pass them that people begin to stare openly. No one drops their drink or gasps, it's not that dramatic, but she knows they all whisper as soon as she walks past.

It's once she gets to her mother that she thinks maybe, just maybe, she should have gone along with the theme during this one part and sneak away later.

The lady her mother is talking catches Y/N's eyes and her smile drops slowly, her eyes widening. When her mother notices, she turns and looks at what could cause her friend to frown so quickly.

Her face goes from shock to anger so quickly that Y/N for a moment lets her smile falter.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Her mother seethed through her teeth as soon as Y/N was close enough to hear.

"I'm Sandy," Y/N starts, trying to stand tall. There was a reason she was doing this. Her mother didn't listen, treated her like a child even though she was well past that. A thought ran through her head, that her family could kick her out. For a moment, before she remembered that her family was only about saving face, she wondered if her mother would do it.

"What happened to the dress that I had made for you?" Y/N feels sorry for only a moment, because that dress was truly the only reason she wouldn't want to go against her mother.

"I'm sorry, I must not have understood." Y/N smiled sweetly, making her mother even more angry. "Too much of a child, apparently."

"Go home and change." Her mother plasters as smile on her face, one that matches Y/N's own.

"Gladly." She struts out, and for a moment she wonders if it would have been better to not show at all, since she's not coming back anyway. But then her eyes meet Kie's, who's dressed as a mermaid, and Sarah's, who's dressed as a space cowboy. The two smirk and follow her out, slipping away from their parents easily.

"Your family is gonna murder you." Kie whispers as they run to her car.

"Worth it." Y/N smiles, her lips stretching and cracking her lipstick.

She has to sleep at the Chateau for a week, with only the extra clothes that others can scrounge for her, waiting for her parents to text her and tell her that they were being dramatic, of course they want their daughter to come home. By the time they do, Y/N doesn't care much, and only comes home to get her things. JJ helps, but her mother comes back before she can leave, just as she's carrying the last box into the car that JJ already started.

"What are you doing?" Her mother admonishes, seeing the Twinkie loaded with all her shit.

"Moving." Y/N shrugs. If her parents don't bother to check up on her a week after leaving her to fend for herself, she doesn't care about their money. She doesn't have to pay rent at the Chateau, she can split groceries, she has her own job. She throws the last box into the Twinkie, closing the door.

"You can't do this to us." There goes her mother, making everything about herself. Y/N doesn't care about saving face, walking into the Twinkie without so much as a wave. She knows she'll still see her siblings; what she doesn't know is if her parents will make her look bad to save themselves or just troubled.

"Bye, mom." She mutters, shutting the door and looking straight forward as JJ turns the radio up to drown out the shouts of her mother. She still hears it, though, the stinging words that started the whole thing.

"You think you know everything? You don't know shit. You may not be in school, but you're still a little girl!"

And maybe her mom is right, in a way. Maybe she doesn't know everything. But as she looks at JJ, one hand on her thigh and the other on the steering wheel, softly singing along to the radio and bobbing his head, she wants to scream that her mother is wrong. She knows that JJ is her love, and that there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other.

She knows JJ.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[perfectprofessorloverapricot]

AMATERASU | Jujutsu kaisen

Prologue

Summary: This is the story of the sun and moon's child. A, not at all, normal kid that found himself participating in the world of sorcery and under the guidance of the strongest sorcerer. Sort of.

Character: Male OC

Warnings: Mentions of death.

A/n: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.

Masterlist - Next chap

They called him "The sun and moon's love child"

Amaterasu, goddess of sun, and tsukuyomi, god of the Moon.

Born from non-sorcerers parents and during a total eclipse, the town where he was born easily noticed the new addition in the small place. But what made the news spread like wild fire was the baby's appearance.

Born from a brown haired mother and a black haired father, the child appeared with red flaming hair. And the moment he opened his eyes everyones breathe hitched. Gray almost white eyes like milk with a crescent withe moon 🌙 underneath the pupil almost surrounding it. Eyes that seemed to glow even in darkness.

The birth of the child brought great expectations. And the most religious people ironically considered him as the chosen one. The reincarnation of their God. The one they have been expecting for years.

The child became the messiah of the town. The family became rich from all the people coming to seek guidance even from a baby or just the opportunity to see him. And the jujutsu world took notice of the event.

The elders of the jujutsu world kept an eye on the baby for the first two years but lost interest when they realized that the kid was not especial in any way. The people where the only ones that belived so.

At first everyone in the town was delighted with the child. He brought prosperity to the town, wealth and recognition. But not everyone agreed with the idea. Those who didn't like a child basically having everyone trapped around his little finger stared spreading rumors. False rumors of the devil hiding in sheep's clothes.

Little by little, people believed those rumors to be true and the town divided in two. Those who believed in the messiah and those who thought him the to be the devil.

Everything got worse when in one of his walks with his 'servant', the child of 8 years stoped with his veré hands a fast rolling cart from hitting a younger girl in the middle of the road.

Every possibility left of the kid being normal was thrown out the window and the people believing him to be the devil were enraged.

They decided to act before the child could gain any more strength.

In a normal night were the people of the town slept peacefully, the 8 year old child laid wide awake on his futon. He had a bad feeling. Like something was about to happen.

His hunch was proven right the moment his 'servant' (someone he considered a Nani and a better parental figure than either of his parents) came barging in his room with urgency only to halt on the doorway by a katana piercing through her chest from behind.

Moon eyes open wide in horror watched everything and every ditail posible. From the fear in her eyes to the katana moving in slow motion towards him ready to cut his own head off his shoulders.

He doesn't know how but the next thing he knows he's in the middle of a burning old traditional Japanese house. The flames danced fiercely around him but none burned him like they did to all those in the house with the intention to kill him.

The survival of the child scared most of the residents in the town. None of the killers survived. His parents didn't survive. The servants didn't survive. No one but him lived.

Fearing the rage of the powerful child the elders looked for a way to take the childe away from the town and free them from the anomaly.

Looking everywhere they found a contact that assured them they had a way to take the problem from their hands. Unknown to them, the contact was none other than Nanami Kento, a student from jujutsu highschool, and he had just the right thing in mind.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Ugh. Why am I here, sensei?" asked a very displaced 17 year old, white haired jujutsu student with his hands behind his head. The Tokyo's school principal and his student paced with calm towards their destiny. "I'm a sorcerer not a babysitter."

Yaga sighed heavily. "It's because I consider you the best one to talk to the kid." And to concentrate in something else than getting depressed, he thought.

Not finding anything that could convince his teacher to let him go Gojo grumbled under his breath about how all of this is a waste of time.

Faster than he would have liked, Gojo found himself walking along the halls of a traditional Japanese house, a big one at that, following a non-sorcerer man.

"Has there been a change in the boy?" Asked Yaga, concentrated in the reason they traveled so far.

"None, sir." Answered the man in a clam voice. "Have you come to a veredict about what happened?" He asked.

Yaga nodded once. Since the town didn't have the resources to find an expert forensic and jujutsu technical college was kind enough to send Nanami and Shoko to investigate. "It seems that one of the servants from the Kimura family may have thought that all the members of the family were dead and blew up the kitchen, starting the fire." He said in a calm tone. "That's as accurate as we can be considering most of it was unrecognizable by the fire."

Gojo rolled his eyes behind his shades. Any decent sorcerer would be able to recognize the signs of cursed energy in that place. And considering the damage, the signature of cursed energy they are approaching and knowing the only survivor, the child's probably a second grade or semi-first grade level. But it's not like they can say.

'Hey, did you know that your good for nothing small town produced a stronge sorcerer child?'

Just like always, they have to hide to cursed world from normal people.

"He is in here." Announced the man nodding to the sliding door in front of him. "He is calm boy not really that energetic, so don't expect much. But he is a good kid."

Gojo was slightly surprised by the honesty behind the man's words. After he heard that the elders of the town wanted to get rid of the child he expected hatred from everyone towards the young sorcerer.

Yaga nodded again before turning to Gojo. "Can you keep the kid some company while I talk with Koshi-San?"

The special-grade sorcerer understood the silent message. Yaga had nothing that should be keep private from him, but the reason he dragged him all the way to the town was to talk to the kid. "Hai hai." He answered nonchalantly.

Yaga stared at him for a moment before turning to Koshi. The man understood the 'need' to look for somewhere to talk alone and guided him to another room.

Finally watching them turn around the corner Gojo, grumbling under his breath, slammed the door open. "Hey kid." Announced his presence with a loud voice.

He already expected the boy to flinch and try to stay away from him. It's already happened before. His height, loud voice and sometimes even his eyes scare people away. But he was surprised by what happened.

In the room there lay an unused futon, the child was sitting in the engawa at the other side of the room, leaving the other sliding door open for everyone entering his room to find him watching the backyard. The child didn't move a single muscle nor did he appear to have notice his presence, but Gojo already suspects that the child knew he was there even before he opened the door.

The next thing that happened left Gojo speechless and with a sense of Deja vu. The kid turned his body slightly to the side and turned his head to see the intruder.

The moment the kid reveled his eyes Gojo was brought back to his own childhood (if he could call it that), the same eyes that used to look back at him trough the mirror were looking at him from the child now in front of him. Those light grey and glowing orbs had such an intensity that Gojo feared for a moment his own cursed eyes wouldn't stop the kid from inspecting his soul.

He was like him.

And yet not.

The kid's cursed energy flowed through his body the same way blood did in his veins. But his six eyes could easily see that by the amount of energy alone the kid was already a first grade sorcerer. The only reason Gojo didn't sense it before was because he was suppressing it. He doubts the child is aware of it, or had any kind of training to learn it, and the fact he is doing it unconsciously speaks of innate talent.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?" Asked the boy in a soft yet firm voice.

Okay, maybe the child wasn't that much like him. Gojo wasn't respectful with others at his age. (Who is he kidding? He isn't, even now as an already grown up man)

Just like with his domain expansion, Gojo processed all his thoughts in a second and made his decision right then and there. He won't let people do to this child what they did to him.

Gojo took off his shades walking towards the boy before lowering himself to the child's level and looked at him in the eyes.

Glowing blue meet slightly surprised glowing light grey.

"Actually, I'm here to help you." He said with a smile in his face. It wasn't smug nor was it fake. It was completely genuine.

"Help me?" Asked the boy rising a red eyebrow. "How?"

Gojo extended his hand prepared for a hand shake. "If you take my hand I can show you."

Completely confused now, the Kimura boy looked at the withe haired's hand then at the owner's eyes. He didn't sense any kind of hostility or deception from the older.

Maybe he was a little naive to believe the stranger in front of him, but a hunch told him to take the hand. Who knows what could happen. Maybe he'll regret it... or maybe he won't. There's only a way to find out.

The moment the read haired boy took the stranger's hand he end up sealing his fate.

Everyone will know the power of the sun goddess and moon god's child's power.

And they'll either respect him or fear him.

Tell me what you think.

[goodboywritings]

hello! could you write a billy x m!reader where the reader it's the new kid and takes billys throne and reputation. billy goes all 😡😡 and they fight at a party. i leave the rest to you! I'm sure you'll make a great work! (maybe smut if you feel like it?)

Knocking down the king.

sub!billy/dom!reader smut (no real sex)

oh it's always gonna be at least a lil smut if im the one writing it <3 sry for taking so long with this one! writers block :')

cw: graphic depictions of violence, blood, light degradation and exhibitionism (like its mentioned once), no actual sex

He'd been there for a month. A month. And Billy was already left in the dust.

High-school wasn't easy for anyone, nonetheless Billy Hargrove. He had moved, changed schools and changed classes (plus an annoying new "sibling" and being stuck with his shitty dad). There were so many new things in his life, so many obstacles he had to get through. So school? That was the one place where he wanted to feel confident.

Billy pushed everyone down. Everyone were ants beneath his shoes, his playthings. Girls were toys, boys were enemies. He could practically flirt or threaten his way out of any situation, no matter how serious.

So after a while? He had quite a reputation. The other boys knew not to get too close to him during gym, unless they wanted to get tripped or hit. And the girls? They mostly swooned from a distance. Billy was known as a heartbreaking destroyer, far above everyone else.

Until him.

Y/N started at Hawkins High a few months after Billy did. The new kid always gets attention, everyone knows that, but no one had as many eyes on them as he did. Good looks, a party animal and a mean smirk. A deadly combination, all mixed together to make a sexy cocktail.

He pushed even further than Billy did. Y/N skipped loads of classes, barely participated in gym (and everyone were thankful for that) and mostly talked to people and partied. The gossip going around was that he had cheated on his old girlfriend, but she had stayed with him because he was just that hot. Some even said that he had multiple girls, some of them older. Or that he went to juvie for almost killing a guy.

All this; the rumours, the good looks, the neverending invitations to parties he seemed to get... It infuriated Billy. Y/N had grown an empire in an even shorter time than he had. He acted as he was God, didn't even look or talk to Billy most of the time. He grouped him together with everyone else, a background character that wasn't worth his time. Billy fucking Hargrove, a background character!

And it made him so. Fucking. Mad.

So Friday night, things escalated. There was a party going on, some random kid in school with a big house and his parents gone had invited everyone at school. So Billy and Y/N were bound to meet.

Red cups and bottles littered every surface. People were pressed tightly together, bodies sweating. It was hot and loud, the way every party should be. Billy walked through the crowds with a feral grin, a choir of voices yelling at him.

"Kegstand! Come on!"

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. He couldn't deny them, of course not. The crowd had to be pleased.

He walked outside into the cold night air. The herd followed him, all eager to see. The kegs stood on the lawn with a group of people already surrounding it. They were loud, cheering for whoever was currently drinking.

Billy stopped dead in his tracks. Of fucking course.

Y/N got down from the keg, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He was soaked in sweat, grinning from ear to ear. There was that same feral glee that Billy had in that smile. Something that rialed him up.

At the sight of the blonde he chuckled, shaking some beer out of his hair.

"Hargrove! Here to challenge me?" He asked.

Billy put on that same cocky smile as always, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hardly a challenge with you L/N."

The other boy rolled his eyes playfully.

"Come on, don't trashtalk me when you haven't even seen my skills!"

Well he was definitely going to see his skills now. Billy walked up to the keg next to Y/N's, rolling his shoulders in preparation. More people gathered around them, all eager to see how this would end. Some kid started counting down as to make things fair, staring at his watch to time them.

"3, 2, 1... Go!"

They both flipped upside down. Balancing on the keg was the easy part, drinking the beer was harder. Billy chugged as much as he could as he tried not to fall. Y/N did the same, the boys trying their hardest.

There was always some sort of competition between the two, everything a pissing contest. They did all they could to one up the other. To prove themselves. Yet neither of them knew if it was friendly competition or if the other actually hated them.

Billy was the first to fall, yelling angrily as his feet hit the ground. He could feel the familiar buzz of alcohol under his skin. Y/N laughed in sadistic joy, the crowd cheering around them.

"Sucks to lose Hargrove! Come back when you can actually handle it." He taunted, glaring Billy down.

That's it.

Soon Y/N's back hit the ground, Billy on top of him. The blonde saw red, adrenaline pumping through his body, pushing him even further over the edge. He punched him straight in the nose. Blood smeared all over the others face, wide blown eyes looking up at Billy. The crowd buzzed in excitement at the display of violence.

Y/N quickly punched back, moving Billy's face with the force of it. In his disoriented state he barely even noticed when Y/N flipped their positions, straddling his hips and keeping him down on the ground.

"You're fucking pathetic!" He growled, glaring down at Billy. His hands grabbed his wrists and held them above his head, the blood from his nose dripping down his chin. He punched him again in the face, making him wince.

Billy on the other hand was rock hard beneath him. The situation was just too perfect — Y/N fully in control, cock against ass, degrading him in front of everyone. He could almost cum from just this.

If Y/N noticed his rialed up state he didn't know as he just glared at him, making sure he'd submitted to him, before getting off of him. To make sure he stayed down he received a final kick to the stomach.

"That's right, you're beneath me. Stay down."

Billy just groaned, covered in the others blood and sweat, pitching a tent.