#but fortunately my parents were willing to pay for this

[victorluvsalice]

My final Christmas/Birthday present (it was MEANT to arrive before Christmas, but shipping delays meant it arrived yesterday, after my birthday) -- an official The Smiler Scarf! :D It is surprisingly large, and very much on-brand, as you can see. I am quite pleased with it. :D

[areyoudoingthis]

people are nice!!!! don't let anyone convince you that people are evil

[dr5amatic]

MONSTER YOU CREATED ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from arcane season 1. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to violence. change verbiage as needed.

we're not gonna get caught. we'll be in and out before anyone notices.

thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this.

you could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do.

a bit of advice. don't threaten the guy who pours the drinks.

when people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.

you're gonna have to lay low for a bit, understand?

those who did this will be dealt with.

i ruined everything. i always do.

you have to believe me. i didn't do this.

i do love a good conundrum.

no great science should ever put lives in danger.

i believe i've discovered something truly incredible.

we look out for each other. it's the way it's always been.

all i see is a child meddling with things they don't understand.

i was trying to create magic.

arcane talents are something you're born with. they can't be fabricated.

you don't understand what's at stake, but how can you? that's a burden that only i carry.

if dangerous ideas didn't excite the imagination, we would never wander astray.

there's a monster inside all of us.

you're just a small man in a little hole the world forgot to bury.

i know you wanna hurt the topsiders for what they've done to us, but who are you willing to lose?

i saw it with my own eyes what magic can do, the lives it could save. you've no idea how beautiful it is.

when you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission.

what makes you different makes you strong.

you'll oblige a doomed man one last smoke, won't you?

you never did know when to walk away.

what have you done? this wasn't the deal!

you'll get people killed. for what? pride?

oh, i hated you for what you'd done, but as time passed, so did my hate. and i was left with an understanding.

the only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing to become what they fear.

you'll die for the cause, but you won't fight for one?

willing to risk exile for your endeavor. that's quite the conviction.

wait a minute, this isn't my bedroom.

another late night. the work just doesn't end.

you were supposed to guard the cargo.

it was your job to make sure things went smoothly. you failed. don't disappoint me again.

do you have any idea what you've done?

how do you intend to prove any of this?

did my parents pay you to let me win?

i don't need favors. i need you to do your job.

you've just made yourself everyone's common enemy.

that place looks like it has bodies buried in the basement.

you're a symbol of the future now, whether you like it or not.

how can i say no to such an auspicious offer.

if you really want people to talk to you, you have to let them think you have what they want.

what is truth, but a survivor's story?

if i'm discovered, we're both finished.

are you headed home soon? i thought we could walk together.

betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater.

loneliness is often the byproduct of a gifted mind.

do you contemplate death?

it's a sad truth that those who shine brightest often burn fastest.

i hate feeling so useless.

i know you have your reservations about me, but this only works if we can trust each other.

i just... want to feel what it was like... to be somebody. to make other people afraid.

how many problems can one girl cause?

you can fire that thing if you want, but i'm not going anywhere.

i'm not going to abandon you again.

i knew it was a mistake trusting you.

you look good for a dead girl.

that was a long time ago. people change.

nature has made us intolerant to change, but fortunately, we have the capacity to change our nature.

i know the look of a doomed man.

love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress.

i should have been there. for you. for everyone.

we came from a world where there was never enough to go around. that's why we fight. do you remember?

who found you? who cared for you? gave you a home?

i am your family. everyone else betrays us.

i'm only asking you to prepare to defend your people.

i'm worried i have to do something i never thought i would.

if you want to last in this world, you must learn to be both the fox and the wolf.

you'd give me a throne?

i'll give you the world if you prove you can take it.

sometimes, death is a mercy.

every time i think you can't get dumber, you dig a new low.

ego is one thing, brain is another.

weapons can't be unmade and they are always used.

that looks like more than a sprain. you need medical attention.

you have the passion of youth.

oil and water. wasn't meant to be.

we got a deal, pretty boy?

you've always been a part of this. you just never had to look it in the eye.

you really are fond of him.

i wanted to protect the city from people like you.

i can't believe you'd start a war just to cover your ass.

i would set the world ablaze to protect our family.

we lost ourselves. lost our dream. in the pursuit of great, we failed to do good. we have to make it right.

i'm trying to save you from annihilation.

i can't make a deal with a snake and cut off its head. we both have our shitty parts to play.

you'd be surprised what you can pull off when your life depends on it.

it's not enough to give people what they need to survive. you have to give them what they need to live.

is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

nothing ever stays dead.

the only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting back to you.

you're my daughter. i'll never forsake you.

remember who you are! i know you remember!

don't cry. you're perfect.

i thought maybe you could love me like you used to. even though i'm... different. but you changed too.

[penvisions]

dev's masterlist {joel miller}

I've somehow expanded my writing enough to warrant a whole separate masterlist for the one and only Joel Miller! He's so diverse and there are so many facets to his character, so it's been fun to explore writing for him ♡ Keep in mind my blog and online spaces are strictly 18+ Each fic has its own masterlist post with links to chapters, warnings, and supplemental content! Happy reading! ♡

back to -> navigation || main masterlist

*Series / Multichapter Fics:

Title: return the favor Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: With a past as rich as anyone in the times after the Outbreak, you find your medical and survival skills to be a valuable asset.You were dropping off some medical supplies that FEDRA was willing to pay big for when you got tangled up in a mission that involves a teenager with a mouth almost as smart as yours and gruff older man whose graying curls were his only redeeming quality. But the longer you traveled with them and the more that happened out in the open land of what once was, the more you find yourself connecting with them and wanting to protect them both at any cost.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: garnish Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader (a restaurant au) Staus: complete Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: zest Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents. But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: by the grit of sandpaper Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader (Artisan! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: complete Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: gone to the dogs Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: What happens when the world ends in such a violent way that it robs you of your very humanity? Do you submit or raise your hackles and fight back? The answer is obvious to Joel Miller, known for being someone to not to cross even in the most dangerous corners of the Boston QZ. The answer is obvious to you, too, who transformed in his likeness.

ao3 link || series masterlist

*One Shots / Drabbles:

Title: for the record Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend…and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: unexpected bloom Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader Summary: A single flower and a chance encounter brings color to your life.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: there's a place and time Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

ao3 link || direct link

{wristwatch}

{early morning filth}

{joel's morning wood}

*Construction Corner:

Title: black hole sun Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Waitress! Reader ; Jackson! Joel Miller x Survivor! Reader Status: under construction : to be posted soon! Summary: You carry memories of Joel Miller in your heart in the wake of the end of the world, someone who had once been a bright spot in the dull monotony of life. When you unexpectedly cross paths with him again, he’s no longer the young man you used to share moments with but an unforgiving dark spot that had been corrupted by the new world order. He’s gone in the blink of an eye once again, showing up months later to settle in Jackson as he’s turned into some convoluted mixture of each. Maybe time and circumstance will allow for you finally tell each other how you feel?

ao3 link || series masterlist

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Yandere Professors Bang Chan, Hongjoong, & Sangyeon) 5k, yandere, college professors, scolding, manipulation, aggression, yelling, dub-con, non-con, smut, fingering, penetration, creampie, gang bang, bruising (@starillusion13)

“Have you forgotten who we are?”

Ever since you were young you knew you wanted to be a star. You wanted to be on stage, you wanted to entertain, you wanted to be loved. It was fortunate your parents supported you in this dream, even before they realized how serious you were. They signed you up for dance lessons, as well as singing, and did anything else they could to help. You were talented, and that was obvious from a young age. So it was no surprise when you got accepted into a prestigious arts university. Your parents were so proud, and you were so excited to properly start building your career.

Of course you had actually had the chance to show your talents before entering uni. You participated in some singing competitions, and did a few shows here and there. Some people knew you, but you weren’t a celebrity. You may have already had a chance to be on a stage, but that wasn’t gonna make you think you were better than others. At uni you were just another student, and maybe you wouldn’t even make it as big as you wanted to be, but being here was a great step. You wouldn’t bring up your past achievements, and do your best to get along with others. After all, in this industry it’s all about connections.

With that in mind you were quite surprised when some of your professors offered to privately tutor you and help you with your studies. They didn’t really do tutoring in general, but it seemed they were willing to make an exception for you. It had already been a few weeks, and by now they had all seen what you could do. You figured it was a good sign, so did your parents and they agreed to the tutoring. It was something you took seriously, but it was certainly more than you expected. Now you always stayed late with your professors. 

After your classes you’d spend a few hours with either professor Bang, professor Lee, or professor Kim in the dance studio. They had their own classes so it tended to be someone different each time. You’d practice your dance moves and work on developing your own style. It was quite exhausting, but fun nonetheless. Once you wrapped that up you took a bit of a break and then headed to the studio. You were already quite talented with singing, but that wasn’t the only thing they wanted you to focus on. If you really wanted to be a star, you had to be incredible, and they believed you were capable. 

So besides singing and dancing you were being taught about lyrical structure and music composition, then they even threw rap lessons into the mix. You weren’t studying all of these things on your own, this was certainly extra work they were putting on you. Still, they always assure you that you were capable, and you certainly felt you were learning. All this would give you an extra edge when trying to get a foothold in the industry, but there was something about this whole thing. After all, nothing is free, especially not in this industry.

“So, there’s this new place that opened up in town, and we should totally go.” Your friend Ava suggested. “I’ve heard good things from it. You in?”

“I’m out.” You commented.

“You’re always out.” Your other friend, Misu, pouted. “Are you ever going to hang out with us after class?”

“You know I have dance practice and then a session in the studio.”

“Those professors really don’t give you a break, do they?”

“They’re just trying to help.”

“Talk about picking favorites.” Lyla added. “You’re a freshman and they’re giving you all these free lessons. It’s kinda unfair.”

“They offered, and I couldn’t just turn them down.”

“You sure your parents didn’t pay them?”

“My parents never came to campus before they offered to tutor me.”

“Then what do they get out of it?” Ava asked. “No way they just tutor you for free.”

“Well… they kinda do.” You admitted nervously. “I should get going.”

“No, come on, girl. Text them you’re not feeling well and come with us.”

“Ava-”

“Please, pretty please, just this once.”

“Yeah, we never get to see you anymore.” Misu commented. “Let’s go hang out together. One day off won’t kill you.”

You sighed. “Alright, fine, but just this once.”

“Awesome!”

You were lucky you didn’t have any of your tutors as your last class of the day. So you sent a message in the group chat with them, letting them know you were feeling under the weather and apologized for missing your lessons. With that done you packed your things and went with your friends, talking about the plans for the evening. It really had been a while since you hung out with them, so you were greatly looking forward to this.

“Y/n.”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard a firm voice call your name. You swore under your breath, trying your best to compose yourself. You slowly turned around, your friends already knowing what the situation was

“Professor Kim-”

“I thought you were feeling under the weather?”

“She is.” Misu cut in. “We’re taking her back to her dorm.”

“Is that so?”

The professor walked up to you, pressing his palm against your head. Then he placed a finger under your nose. You closed your eyes, realizing you had been caught.

“You seem fine to me.”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t skip your lessons.”

“It-”

“Come on now.”

The professor took your hand and yanked you away from your friends. They attempted to protest but you just shook your head at them. You got caught, so you’d have to suffer the consequences. You figured you’d be taken to the dance studio, as was the routine, but instead you were dragged to the recording studio. Upon entering you saw that professor Bang and professor Lee were also there. You were shoved onto the couch, keeping your head down as you adjusted yourself.

“I found her.”

“Feeling under the weather?” Professor Lee questioned. “You forget I saw you this morning, and you were just fine.”

“Sorry…”

“Sorry? You lied to us, and for what?”

“I just wanted to hang out with my friends…”

“What kind of friends convince you it’s a good idea to ditch your lessons? Those are not good friends.”

“They-”

“Let’s not argue the details.” Professor Bang said. “The question is, what will be the consequences? Care to guess?”

“…”

“Since we’re here we should start with your vocal lessons today. Let’s warm up.”

That wasn’t a suggestion, so you got up and made your way into the recording booth, professor Lee following you. He brought in a stool with him and had you sit down. He placed his hands on your shoulders, slowly sliding them down your arms and then yanking them behind your back. You kept them there as you heard him take off his belt, using it to tie your hands together. He brought the mic closer to you, standing behind you.

“You may begin.”

You took a breath and began with your warm ups, following what you had learned, as well as what they had taught you. After a moment you felt professor Lee’s hands trailing down your sides, his hands reaching your thighs and massaging them gently. Instinctively you closed your legs, but he merely pulled them apart, tsking in your ear. From there his hands moved inward, his fingers rubbing at your core through your panties. You were never one for skirts, but had gotten into the habit of wearing them because of your tutors. You yelped into the microphone, feeling a bit shy.

“Keep going.”

“Professor-”

“When it’s just us you call us by our names, remember?”

“Yes, Sangyeon.”

“Good girl. Now continue.”

You tried to keep your voice steady as Sangyeon continued his distraction. You even had to avert your gaze as Chan and Hongjoong were watching you from the other side of the glass. It didn’t help anything when Sangyeon pushed your panties aside and his cold fingers ran up along your core. You shivered, accidentally making eye-contact with Chan. You felt your face burning and you shut your eyes. You tried to compose yourself and bit your lip, but Sangyeon pushed a finger into you, a moan escaping you.

“Are you getting this?” Sangyeon asked.

“We’re recording.” Hongjoong assured.

“Good.”

Sangyeon wrapped his free hand around your throat, putting light pressure on it as he held your head high. You had to stay by the microphone and continue your warm up. You desperately tried to move, but your arms were restrained, and Sangyeon was holding you still. His fingers kept working you over, eventually finding your sweet spot. You whimpered into the mic, your breathing becoming uneven. Your face wasn’t the only thing burning anymore. By then Sangyeon had two fingers into you, his lips pressing kisses against your cheek.

“Sa… Sangyeon…”

“Hm?”

“… please…”

“You don’t deserve to cum.”

He pushed you closer to the edge before stopping, pulling his fingers out. You whimpered, and looked up to him with pleading eyes. All you got was a kiss on your head as he undid the belt and freed your arms.

“We’ll start in ten.” Chan announced into the booth. “And you’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

Sangyeon left you alone, and you took the time to catch your breath and finish your warm up. You felt frustrated, but your lessons had only just begun. You practiced your singing and rapping, following the verses given to you and trying to do your own thing with them. When you finished you collapsed onto the couch in the studio, wanting to get some rest.

“Here.”

You opened your eyes when someone tapped your legs, seeing Hongjoong offering you a cup of tea. You took it and gave a smile, getting yourself a pat on the head. For now you’d let your voice rest and work on composition. Chan really wanted to get you to a point where you could write your own music. There was a great opportunity coming up as the university was having its annual freshmen showcase. It wasn’t mandatory, but it would be beneficial for any of the new students, even transfers, to participate.

“Chan.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking of partnering with one of my friends for the showcase.”

“No.”

“But-”

“The showcase is very important and you can’t be doing it with someone else.”

“Why not? I don’t-”

“You have to show that you can be a star on your own before you collaborate with others.” Chan explained. “Besides, you’re already marked down as a solo act.”

“What!? I haven’t even submitted my-”

“We did it for you.” Hongjoong chimed in. “You can’t leave such things at the last minute.”

“I guess…”

“Hm, have you forgotten who we are?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you have to trust us. We’re not just professors, but artists in the industry. We get a say whether you make it or not, and we do like you. So you shouldn’t ruin your chances.”

“Right.”

“As long as you stick with us and do what we say, you’ll end up in the spotlight.”

You took a sip of your tea before Chan took it from you, pulling you onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Daddy doesn’t wanna see you fail.” Chan mumbled. “And I’m not talking about your father.”

Chan placed a kiss on your neck, his lips trailing up until he stopped to press a big kiss on your cheek. He giggled into the kiss.

“Hm, we should go over to the dance studio. You can’t skip practice.”

“I know.”

The four of you made your way over to the dance studio, using a private practice room. They helped you with your warm ups, and then continued where you left off. They intended to have you dance as well for the showcase, so they had been working with you to choreograph your routine. It was still a work in progress, but you were at the halfway point. After three hours you collapsed to the floor, exhausted and finally done for the day. You were laying on the ground, eyes shut, and catching your breath when you felt someone on top of you. When you opened your eyes you found Sangyeon smiling down at you.

“Don’t you look pretty.”

“I’m all sweaty.”

“A beautiful glow.”

“You’re gross.”

“One must find beauty everywhere, and you look amazing.”

You remembered that this was how it all started. When the trio had first taken you on it seemed like a normal student and tutor situation. It wasn’t until one of your dance practices that you realized there was more going on. After a long session you found yourself under Chan. Before you could say anything he was kissing you. At first you were shocked but then you pushed him off, moving away. You told him it was wrong, and that you weren’t interested in him in such a manner, but that didn’t stop him. He wound up pinning you down beneath him, telling you not to lie to yourself. He knew the way other students would stare at him, and you were no different. Maybe that was true, but this still felt wrong.

You thought things would stay between you and Chan, but he was very open with affection in front of the other two. That led to them getting intimate with you as well. It started softly with kisses, but when it was just one on one they got bold. First it was Sangyeon in the dance studio, taking you after a lesson and pushing you to your limits. Then it was Chan in the studio before you practiced, telling you to consider it a warm up. Lastly it was Hongjoong after his lecture, having you stay with him since your private studies with him would begin afterwards. You could tell they all had some experience on that front.

Now they were all just comfortable with each other and you, so they had no problem taking turns. At this point you weren’t sure if they actually cared about you or if you were their project and they were gonna make you famous. At least they didn’t seem to doubt your talent, which is probably why you were still engaging with them in such a manner. There were times when it hit you how wrong all this was, but this was your golden opportunity, and you couldn’t blow it. So you went along with them. All the private sessions, the one-on-one practices, the sex. None of it was bad, but you knew for sure those around you would say awful things behind your back if they knew the truth.

🖤

“Yo, what’s the plan for the weekend?”

“I’m gonna be at the studio working on my showcase.”

“Girl, do you ever take a break.”

“Winter break is coming up.”

“And you sure you gonna take it?”

“I’m fine Misu, and yes, I will definitely enjoy my winter break.”

“Then I’ll make plans for then since you always seem busy.”

“One has to work hard to make it in this type of industry.”

“I know it. Although some good connections can go a long way. I need to start getting closer to my professors.”

“Just not too close.”

“Why not? You have to admit some of them are very-”

“Stop! I don’t want to know your type.”

“Alright, virgin.”

“Ya! That’s not true.”

“Then who was your first?”

“Uh…”

“Exactly. Virgin.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your weekend.”

“You too. Don’t work too hard.”

“I’ll try not to.”

It was sweet that your friends always checked in with you about the weekend, hoping for the day you don’t say you’re busy. One day that will be the case but for now you had to spend your weekend with your tutors. You had to be at the studio by eight in the morning, so it always sucked having to drag yourself out of bed. You made a stop for coffee on your way, making sure to get some for everyone too. When you walked into the studio you were greeted with happy faces. They already seemed wide awake unlike yourself. Maybe they didn’t sleep at all.

“Look who showed up late.”

“It’s not eight yet, Sangyeon.”

“If you’re on time you’re late, if you’re early you’re on time.”

“I see, my bad.”

“We’ll work on that.” Sangyeon teased. “Let’s get you settled in before we begin.”

You had your coffee and the session was going by like normal until there was a knock at the door. It was the weekend, so not many students would be on campus. Although as everyone shared glances the door opened and your friend Misu stepped in.

“Hey- wow, what’s this?”

“A private session.” Chan stated. “Please leave.”

Chan didn’t wait for a response as he closed the door and locked it. Things were quiet for a moment, the guys waiting for the uninvited guest to leave. Once they were gone they all turned to look at you.

“What the hell was that?” Hongjoong questioned. “Did you invite your friend?”

“No! Not at all!”

“I think you’re lying.”

“I swear I’m not.”

“Then why show up here?” Sangyeon wondered. “On a weekend of all times?”

“I… I mentioned to Misu that I would be in the studio this weekend, but I never invited her! I didn’t think she’d show up to surprise me or something.”

“I thought we told you to stop socializing with your so-called friends.”

“Uh… they are my friends though, I can’t-”

“You can’t be having friends at this point in your career.”

“What? Doesn’t it pay to have connections in the industry?”

“It does.” Chan stated. “And you have us. No one else matters.”

“But-”

“What did you tell her you were doing here today?”

“That… that I was working on my showcase.”

“So she came to potentially steal your ideas, or perhaps convince you to perform as a duo?”

“I… no, she wouldn’t-”

“And how can you be so sure? The showcase is a very important event for all the new students. Those that don’t perform well don’t stick around.”

“Oh…”

“We shouldn’t continue at the school.” Sangyeon said. “It’s better we take these sessions off campus.”

“Off campus? What do you mean-”

“We can use my studio.” Hongjoong volunteered. “None of my artists are using it this weekend.”

“You… you have your own studio?”

“Of course. Chan does as well.”

“Woah…”

“We’re not just professors. So let’s go.”

There really wasn’t a choice here, so you went with them to Hongjoong studio. It was in the city, one of the biggest buildings around. The others also seemed to know their way around. It wasn’t really noticeable before, but seeing how they all acted with one another it was safe to say they were good friends. When you walked into the studio you were quite amazed. The view was incredible.

“This is your studio?”

“You like?” Hongjoong chuckled. “Need a good view and sunlight for motivation. I’ve done some of my best work here.”

“In more ways than one.” Chan commented. “Now let’s focus. She’s spent enough time worried about others.”

“I’m not some kid. It’s important to socialize and-”

“Y/n, you’re a talented girl, and that’s why we picked you, but you should know to respect your seniors.”

“You’re also my professors and this-”

“We’re taking out free time and giving it to you.” Sangyeon reminded. “It would be rude if you took that for granted.”

“I-”

“You still need to be punished for what happened earlier today.”

“Uh…” “I agree.” Hongjoong added. “Let’s enjoy the view some more.”

“What?”

Hongjoong stalked over to you, forcing you back until your back hit the glass. He placed his hand on either side, boxing you in. You felt your face burning, avoiding Hongjoong’s gaze, but he ended up grabbing your chin and made you meet his eyes.

“Hongjoong…”

“You’re gonna be a star.”

He leaned in close, pressing his lips against yours. By now it was a force of habit to kiss back, or maybe it was just you wanting this too. Hongjoong’s hands trailed down your body, grabbing onto your waist. When he pulled away from the kiss his eyes gazed into yours with lust before he flipped you around. He pressed you up against the glass, a hand trailing down into your pants, rubbing you through your panties.

“No one can see us all the way up here.”

“… you… you sure?”

“The glass is one way.”

“Oh…”

Hongjoong pressed kisses against your neck, sucking on bits here and there to mark you up. He kept you firmly pressed against the glass, leaving you with little room to move as he teased you. This was only the beginning and that was obvious once he moved aside your panties and ran his fingers along your throbbing core. You squirmed, pressing your ass against his crotch without meaning too, feeling something hard poking you back.

“You just have to ask, baby girl.” Hongjoong whispered. “Take your pants off.”

It wasn’t a request, especially when he helped you out by unzipping your pants. You hooked your thumbs into your pants, carefully shiming out of them as Hongjoong kept teasing you. After a moment your pants hit the ground at your ankles, and you carefully stepped out of them. Hongjoong pushed your legs apart, two fingers sliding inside you. A moan escaped your lips and you could see your breath on the glass. You were so focused on your own pleasure you didn’t realize Hongjoong had pulled his dick out. You only felt it press against your ass for a moment before he removed his fingers and then slid right into your pussy. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You needed a moment to adjust as he had done a sloppy job with prep. His heavy breathing was right against your ear, and he whispered how tight you were. He asked if you were ready and you nodded your head. His hands moved to your hips and he slowly began to move, getting into a rhythm before his basic instincts took over. Every thrust pushed you against the glass, giving you a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but it didn’t matter compared to everything else. You were panting against the glass, pushing back against Hongjoong as best as you could. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, mumbling something to Hongjoong, but he was in his own world.

By the way his movements were getting sloppy you knew he was close too. All you had to do was wait and play along, he’d take care of you in the end. His grip on your hips got tight, most likely going to leave bruises. Hongjoong ended up wrapping an arm around you and pulling your back against his chest. He thrust up into you a few times before you felt something warm running down your leg. The sensation pushed you over the edge and you were cumming alongside him. You had your head thrown back, resting on his shoulder as you came down from you high, catching your breath.

“What a good girl.”

Hongjoong kept you in place for a moment before pulling out and bringing you over to the couch. You were still out of breath, but were starting to settle down.

“You really got no problem making a mess in your own studio.” Sangyeon commented. 

“I have a cleaner.” Hongjoong mentioned. “And this wouldn’t be the first time they deep clean this place. Up against the glass is a popular place.”

“What about the couch?”

“A good choice too.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Sangyeon pulled you up and onto his lap. You were still exhausted but he loved the look in your eyes. He didn’t mind the mess either, his hand slipping down between your legs, fingers digging into the mess of cum still dripping out.

“Did you have fun?” You nodded. “That’s good. You had your break so how about I take you for a ride.”

“Sure…”

“At a girl.”

Sangyeon pressed his lips to yours, a new flavor into the mix. You kissed back, leaning into him. Your legs were still shaking, your mind numb from the pleasure, but you continued with Sangyeon’s advances. His thumb was rubbing at your clit, taking full advantage of your current state. You had your arms wrapped around him, feeling how he found your sweet spot and began to abuse it. Before you cooled down he wanted to get in on the action, and now that he had you in his hands it was easy. He kept fingering you while he undid his pants with his free hand, springing out his cock. He stroked himself, getting hard, leaking pre-cum all over his hand.

“You ready, darling?”

“Hm.”

You didn’t even notice when Sangyeon removed his fingers, but you certainly felt the stretch of his cock pushing your walls apart. You held onto him and moaned into his ear as he pushed into the mess, the squelching sound filling the room. Sangyeon let out a breath as you adjusted, loving the way your walls squeezed him. After taking a moment he grabbed your hips, helping you move up and down. You let him take control, helping how you could as you bounced on his cock. Your legs were already trembling, but you kept going, wanting to get another high. You could feel that heat growing again, practically being dragged out of you. Sangyeon got more aggressive as you kept going, definitely going to leave bruises on your hips.

As he lost his rhythm you did your best to take over, moving until you came. It wasn’t long before he climaxed as well, pulling you close and holding you in his arms, moaning into your ear. You twitched in his embrace, feeling so out of breath. You both stayed connected for a while as you came down from cloud nine. After a moment Sangyeon laid down and kept you on top of him, pressing lazy kisses to your face. You giggled and smiled at him, wanting to rest. Although you weren’t done yet. You suddenly felt hands pulling you off of Sangyeon and up on your feet. It was Chan, a devilish grin on his face.

“You’re not done yet, doll.” Chan said. “You have to please us all.”

“Huh…”

Chan kissed you before dragging you into the recording booth and bending you over the table inside. He only ran his fingers along your pussy and ass before getting his dick out and pushing it into you. Now there was going to be a mess to clean up in the booth. You looked up at the glass, seeing both Hongjoong and Sangyeon watching. You made eye contact for a moment before Chan rammed into rather hard, making your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your mouth hung open as he kept going, pushing you to your limits. He was pulling another orgasm out of you, and all you could do was take it. His hands trailed up and down your back. 

As he got closer to cumming his movements became sloppy. You were feeling bits of pain, but it always got overridden by pleasure. Chan suddenly pulled you up against his body, thrusting up into you before spilling his seed inside you. A loud moan escaped your lips and you shook in his arms, feeling this third orgasm push your body to the edge. Chan held you tightly, moving ever so slightly to drag on both your climaxes. By this time you were spent and could barely keep yourself up. Chan wound up carrying you out of the booth, setting you down on the couch where Hongjoong had put down a blanket. 

Your vision was fading in and out, but it was over now. You felt a hand pet you softly, going along with a soothing hum too. You certainly fell asleep for a moment, waking up to the sounds of your own moans. You peeked your eyes open, seeing Chan and Hongjoong were by the mixer, messing around with the private recordings. Your head was resting on Sangyeon’s lap, his hand rubbing circles into your skin to relax you and release any tension in your body. You were still tired so you closed your eyes, most likely going to drift back to sleep.

“We should use some of this.” Hongjoong commented. “I got a few ideas in mind.”

“How exactly do you copyright this?” Chan asked. “Then again, we did make them.”

“Exactly.”

“How about we just keep it to ourselves.” Sangyeon added. “It makes it more special that way. Besides, actually using it could lead to trouble down the line. We don’t want to ruin her future.”

“Honestly, even after the showcase, we should continue with weekend sessions.” Hongjoong mentioned. “Especially in our private studios.”

“I second that.” Chan said. “Things work better this way for everyone.”

You don’t know how long you slept for, but when you woke up you were in the back of a car. Hongjoong smiled at you and took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against it.

“Hello.”

“Hi… what’s going on…”

“We’re going out for some food. You must be hungry.”

“Yeah…”

The boys helped you out of the car, as you couldn’t really walk straight just yet. You got a private room at the restaurant, Chan having you sit in his lap instead of taking a seat on your own. He tickled you with kisses, slapping away the hands of the others.

“Behave.” Sangyeon growled. “She’s ours.”

“Yes she is.” Hongjoong agreed. “She’s our beautiful girl.”

“No, no, no.” Chan corrected. “She’s our beautiful star.”

[darkmaga-returns]

In 2016, David Ihben moved his wife and three children from Chicago to Jamestown, in rural Tennessee, with high hopes for a new and calmer life.

But the dream turned into a nightmare for David and his children in December 2019, when divorce proceedings and a subsequent custody battle resulted in the forced vaccination of the children — and changed the family’s fortunes forever.

Ihben said his ex-wife decided “this wasn’t the life she wanted.” So they were attempting to develop a parenting plan in family court — when Tennessee judge Todd Burnett “pulled up the vaccine issue” after discovering the couple’s children were unvaccinated — and forced the parents to vaccinate their children.

Ihben’s two oldest children — daughter Hannah and son Joseph — were spared significant adverse events following their vaccination.

But his youngest son, Isaac, wasn’t so fortunate. After receiving 18 vaccines in one day, Isaac developed severe regressive autism. Today, he requires around-the-clock care.

The children’s mother soon abandoned the children, leaving Ihben to raise them as a single parent — even though he is still obliged to pay child support.

Ihben shared his story with Children’s Health Defense’s (CHD) Vax-Unvax bus. In a subsequent interview with The Defender, he detailed the challenges he faces in caring for Isaac and the harassment he endured from officials in his community. Ihben shared documentation with The Defender verifying his story.

‘How can a judge force medical care without a doctor’s input?’

Ihben told The Defender his entire family was unvaccinated. “I’ve never had any. My dad was drafted by the Army in 1961, and he didn’t get any either. We’ve never vaccinated,” he said. “Our children had to sign religious exemptions for school.”

During divorce proceedings though, his wife’s attorney used the vaccination issue to drive a wedge between the parents.

“When we went to court, I guess her attorney knew that [Burnett] was a pro-vaccine judge and that’s something that they could get me on,” Ihben said.

According to Ihben, Burnett told the couple that it was his “personal opinion that not vaccinating your children is child abuse.” He then told the couple that whichever parent would be willing to vaccinate the children that same day would leave the courthouse with custody.

[fgslt]

Nut-house

When my parents met my first boyfriend Ali they were shocked. Not only was he 36 and I was 18, but he also was the reason I didn’t spend one single day in college. I mean, could you blame me?

But obviously my parents weren’t happy, that I still had took their monthly check, even though I didn’t study. So they took my social medias and decided to put me into a nuthouse, hoping I would forget Ali. They told the clinic I was a nymphomaniac and out of control. What they didn’t know, that Alis brother was a psychologist in said nuthouse.

He hosted our sessions always at the pool so I could habituate to almost naked arabs. I was a very HARD…no heavy case of a nymphomaniac, which was why he needed to see me daily, sometimes in multiple… sessions. I was glad I was in the hands of such a specialist. He even gave me two nurses to take care of me 24/7.

It was a drastic step, but the nurses were his cousins and happy to help. Needless to say that a case like mine, needed very intense care wich wasn’t cheap. Fortunately my Dad payed everything. Maybe I would have felt a bit guilty, but my parents didn’t even care that I wasn’t allowed any visitors, they just stayed away. Not Ali, he sneaked into the clinic as much as he could. All of us think, there is no cure in sight but there is a specialized (expensive) nut-house in turkey. Ali‘s brother is already implying to transfer me and my parents are willing to pay everything to ”fix“ me.

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Random Idea For A Fic That I Had

Word Count: 1023

Gist: If Regulus and Sirius were left their Uncle's fortune with a clause that excluded their parents and an urging to get out of England after graduating Hogwarts.

Dumbledore's A Decent Fucking Person AU!

Sirius sat atop the velvet cushion of his jewel encrusted throne, the drapes on the castle walls fluttering in the wind coming through the broken glass of the windows. The only thing he’d been willing to pay for so far had been his seat, he was adamant that if he were to live in this insane environment, he would at least need some comfortable place to rest. His mother had lost her mind when he walked out of the house after the Ministry had informed the Black family of his uncle’s passing. She was furious that Alphard had done such a thing, that he had left the one child that she swore wasn’t good enough to be the heir to Black family’s fortune everything he owned. 

Well, it wasn’t really favouritism that sparked this idea. Alphard had always hated his brother and his cousin. He knew Sirius did too, he knew that Sirius would get out the way that he did. So, when he took his own life at age 40, he left everything to Sirius, including this damned castle that sat atop the hill across from Orion and Walburga’s vacation home in London. 

When Walburga found out that Sirius was the sole inheritor of the fortunes her cousin had gained over his lifetime of work as an Auror and a Chemist, she tore the place apart, looking for anything she could take. Sirius of course, wouldn’t have that. He was only fifteen but still, he sent a message directly to the headmaster of Hogwarts, explaining everything in as much detail as he could. Walburga looked absolutely terrified for once in her life when she found that Dumbledore was on his way there now.

Which led him to where he sat now. The sound of his mother’s shrill screams as Dumbledore walked up the path which led to the castle doors began to fill the room. Sirius kept a smug smirk on his lips as he watched the old man walk up to his mother. 

“Madame Black, I see we meet again.”Albus said, looking down his nose with judgement in his eyes at Walburga who only stared back with the rage of a thousand suns in her eyes. 

“What do you want this time? To steal my sons from me again?”Walburga snapped at the headmaster.

“I want justice for what you’ve done to your sons’ newfound home. Sirius has informed myself of all of your most recent wrongdoings toward him and young Regulus. I have decided they don’t need any more of it.”

“How dare you!”Walburga shrieked.”I’ll have-”

Dumbledore cast the silencing curse on Walburga with a gentle flick of his wand. “You will leave those boys alone. They have done nothing but work to please you and your husband and frankly, I’ve noticed the toll that your treachery has taken on the two of them.”

Sirius could only stare at the white-bearded teacher in confusion. The heir was stunned at the knowledge about his home life that the man held. Before he could say anything, Dumbledore simply picked Walburga up and left with a slight bow to Sirius. Regulus, who was hiding behind the pillar next to the doors came running over to him. 

“Is it over? Is she gone?”he asked almost silently, his usual poise and sophistication now replaced with a quiet, child like innocence.

“I… I think so. I hope so. I wasn’t expecting any of that.”

“Where’d he take her?”

“Away, apparently.”

“She ruined it… all of… everything…”Regulus mumbled.

“Uncle Alphard knew she would do something like this. But, I’ll fix it. I always do. I think he put a restoration spell in his letter anyways.”

Sirius stood up from his seat, stretching as an attempt to wake himself up from the whirlwind that just happened. He took the letter from the back pocket of his ripped jeans and skimmed through it to find the restoration spell that Alphard built into the castle before he died. Sirius performed the spell, effortlessly as Regulus watched with wide-eyed wonder. 

The deep purple drapes that hung over the windows, rolled down, their colour restored and their golden borders gleaming once again, the beautiful stained glass windows depicting images of gardens and forests seemed to fit back together like puzzles, the rugs on the ground rolled back into place, their matching greens and purples returning and the doors all seemed to repair themselves after Walburga’s rage. 

“This should be simple. As long as our parents don’t get ahold of the castle, it could be ours. Two teenagers with a hold on the castle is probably not exactly legal but, noone can legally take it away either. And believe me, Alphard left more than enough to give us an amazing life since his parents and a few other members of the family left their fortunes to him before he died.”Sirius rambled to himself as he sunk back into the comfort of his throne. 

Regulus climbed into the matching seat beside him. “This was never your thing, Sirius. You would rather live in some ratty apartment in America than in some extravagant castle. What did Uncle say? Did he say we had to keep it or…”

“He said that it would be wiser if we got out of the country after we graduate. So I assume that means we should get rid of this place too. I would rather go through it first, I’m sure we’ll want his journals and stuff.”

“Your friend absolutely would. He seems to enjoy studying all of that.”

“Oh I’m sure that Remus would be thrilled to have journals filled with the ramblings of our old geezer uncle.”Sirius laughed.

“He actually would.”Regulus whispered.

“How would you know?”

Regulus stayed silent, not answering his brother’s question.

“No matter.”Sirius said, regaining his confidence. “Now that we have a place of our own, we might as well use it.”

“How do you mean?”

“A party of course, we could sneak people out off of school grounds in the middle of the night. I doubt we would get caught.”

“Yeah… a party sounds fun…” 

Sirius jumped up from his seat and practically ran up to the study to write his best friend, James a letter. 

Note: I don't know that I'll actually finish this one but I was just bored and wanted to come up with something to write. I'm probably gonna work on my usual nonsense but I've also just been trying to get back into mass writing fanfics because honestly I used to do that. I might continue this one to just turn into like a random microfic that I post on ao3, not like a long fic. I don't really like writing super long books or anything. I might also try and write another chapter for one of my series or something. I don't know, I've begun to ramble again.

[roostersmustache]

Songs of Silence, One

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Author's Note: Hello guys! This is totally different, as most of you are used to my Rooster fics! But, I've gotta be honest. I've been a Loki fan far longer than I've been a Bradley Bradshaw fan, and with season two of Loki out and about (I've watched it three times), I'm hyper fixating on the God of Mischief right now! So, I hope you guys enjoy, and I hope I can reach some more Loki fans out there!

Synopsis: Ingrid was born the goddess of song. Her voice was unmatched in talent. When using her voice one evening, her voice suddenly leaves her, leaving her completely mute. Seeking out help in finding her voice, she's led to a fortune teller, who offers her more than she initially bargained for.

Warnings: None of this is accurate, Swearing, adult themes, angst, possible MCU spoilers, possible Loki spoilers.

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

Being born a goddess in Asgard came with lots of fabulous parties, countless gowns and jewels, and lots of mingling with the other Gods and Goddesses Asgard housed. Ingrid had been born the goddess of song, her musicality bringing peace and prosperity to Asgardians. She could heal broken hearts with her songs, put one to sleep with her songs, and compel those to her will with her songs.

She was a kind and beautiful goddess, her name even meaning "beautiful woman." Because of her kindness, she never used her compelling voice to lure those to their deaths, or have them do as she pleased. She only used her voice for good, and it brought so much harmony to Asgard.

Her talent was unmatched on every level, and Asgardians were willing to pay her thousands to teach their offspring even a sliver of what it meant to sing like her.

But she never shared the secrets of her voice.

There weren't any secrets to be shared. She was born with her gift, and never had to work to make it better. It was the epitome of a perfect voice.

So perfect that many wanted it for themselves.

Ingrid had to be cautious of who she trusted enough to get close to her. The wrong person with the right spell could take her voice from her. While no such spell was easy, magic was a well practiced craft in Asgard, and someone highly skilled in magic could, with the right research, take her voice from her.

Her talent was mystical, and she most often used it for healing purposes. For example, when a family member passed away, people would come to her and ask for a song to ease their pain. She had a way of letting the spirits sing through her, and her songs were able to make grief easier.

Ingrid was the youngest of the Gods. She was only nineteen in Midgardian years, the sons of Odin beating her by a miniscule two years.

Ingrid lived in the castle, and she saw the royals as her second family. When she was a young girl, her parents, also Gods, were killed by the Dark Elves, so she was left orphaned. Odin and Frigga took her in, and she grew up alongside Thor and Loki.

She grew up knowing her and Thor were to be married once she reached the age of twenty. Her and Thor had grew up close, but she knew, deep down, she'd never be able to love him like she was supposed to. They say everyone has their person, and she knew Thor wasn't hers. She did love him, just in a friendly way. But she knew she'd have to bear his children, so she tried to be attracted to him, but it never worked the way it was supposed to.

"You look beautiful today, my darling," Thor said as Ingrid grabbed his arm.

They were headed to a feast to celebrate their marriage, as the wedding was set to be a month away.

"Thank you, Thor," she replied, smiling at him.

When the couple entered the grand dining room, they were greeted by cheers from all the Asgardian people in attendance. Ingrid smiled, waving at her friends, and following Thor before the two took a seat at the head of the table.

"Thank you, to all my lovely people," Thor boomed, the room going quiet. "And thank you," he started, gazing over to his fiance. "To my beautiful bride-to-be for everything. I'm the luckiest man in the nine realms to get to marry you."

Everyone at the table swooned, Ingrid looking over and giving Thor a smile. He raised his glass and everyone followed suit, a toast in order.

"To love!" Thor cheered.

"To love!" Everyone else cheered.

Ingrid just raised her glass, she didn't say anything else. A part of her mourned the fact that she'd never be able to find her true love. She only hoped that one day her heart would come to love Thor the way that a lover should.

She took leisurely sips of her wine, laughing at someones joke every once and awhile. She loved the people of Asgard, and she knew it was the highest honor to become their queen, but her heart longed to love. It longed to be loved by an all consuming love, one that challenged her and thrilled her, excited her in ways she never even knew possible.

But she'd never get the chance to find it.

"What about a song from the lady?" A man said, standing up and motioning his glass towards Ingrid.

"Oh," she stuttered, caught off guard by the request.

"Yes," another man piped up. "A song from the goddess to bless her marriage!"

"I mean," she blushed. "I don't have anything prepared."

"What could the goddess of song not have prepared? Sing us something!" Another man boomed.

"I don't know, I mean, I don't really think I have it in me to sing right now," she sheepishly replied.

"Oh come on, darling," Thor smiled. "Sing us something."

"I don't really want to," she said to Thor, giving him a tight smile.

Ingrid never liked to be put on the spot, and Thor knew that. But she also couldn't deal with disappointing people, so saying no wasn't something she was good at. Thor also knew this.

"Aw how come?" Thor boomed, obviously a bit drunk, as he smiled down at her. "Bless us and our marriage with a song!"

"I don't- Thor, I didn't prepare to sing anything," she said, silently pleading with him to let it go.

"You're the goddess of song," he emphasized. "You don't need to prepare anything," he smiled.

Ingrid often had anxiety around being put on the spot, as she liked to have a sort of mental preparation. Ingrid suffered from a severe case of PTSD, which contributed to her severe anxiety.

When she lost her parents, she was ten years old. She watched as the dark elves stormed into her home and brutally murdered both of her parents in front of her. They only missed her because she hid in her parents closet.

The images of her parents being killed stayed with her, haunting her.

It's safe to say her anxiety was prominent in her life.

"Thor," she started whispering. "Everyone is looking at me, I don't think I should sing right now."

"C'mon darling, everyone loves your voice! I mean look at them," Thor said, gesturing to the group of people in the dining room, looking excitedly at their goddess of song.

"I don't want to," she said.

"Ingrid, you're the goddess of song, I don't understand-"

"The lady said she didn't want to sing, therefore she won't," a voice said from the back of the dining hall.

The voice in question came from none other than Thor's brother, Loki. Ingrid and Loki had always gotten along. He understood her traumas, since he had found out he was adopted a couple years back.

Her and Loki had grown up never too close, but never distant either. They would often just sit with each other and read in the library. He always kept to himself, but he always tried to be out of his brothers shadow as well. Ingrid had always found Loki fascinating, his magic so strong yet himself so quiet. But when he did have something to say, it was always well worded and intelligent.

When Loki spoke up, the entire dining hall went silent, and all eyes gazed to him. He was dressed in his more casual Asgardian leather, yet nevertheless eye catching. His hair was slicked back as it always was, his black curls resting on his shoulders.

"Ah, brother!" Thor announced. "How wonderful of you to join us!"

"How could I ever miss such an occasion?" He sarcastically remarked, his hand landing over his heart.

As he walked to the table to take a seat, he made eye contact with Ingrid, who mouthed a 'thank you' to him. He just nodded and smiled back at her.

The rest of the party went on as they all do; they ate, Thor and his friends had too many beers to count, and the others mingled together. Ingrid felt overwhelmed by the noise and commotion in the room, so she wandered out to the garden. The gardens were her favorite place in the castle, the flowers and plants always having a way of soothing her. Freyr always did wonders for the gardens.

Her favorite was the Dreamshade plant, an Asgard specialty. It was beautiful when it bloomed. Next to the Dreamshade plot of the garden was a beautiful wooden, white swing next to it, hung by a tree. Ingrid would often find herself out there reading.

She sat down on the swing and started to rock back and forth. She sipped on the wine she had carried with her, the liquid making her warm with each sip she took. The breeze encapsulated her, sending a chill down her spine.

She heard the boom of Thor's laughter from inside and took another swig of her wine. She was supposed to be Asgard's blushing bride, they're grateful queen to be. But instead, she's sitting in the garden, away from her own party for her own marriage, fighting back tears. She was orphaned at ten, and months after she had been taken in by the king and queen, she was betrothed to Thor. Her future had been written for her before she was old enough to fully harness the concept of true love and marriage.

And she did, she did love Thor. They had grown up together. Just as she loved Loki. But Thor never made her feel the way her friends' partners made them feel. They'd all talk about butterflies, feeling giddy. All she felt was a longing for something she didn't have.

She wished her voice could cure her own sadness.

"Ingrid?" Came the voice of Loki. He had found his way out to her at the gardens, slowly walking up to her as to not wake her.

"Loki," she gasped, breaking out of her trance. She then noticed the tears that had fallen down her face, quickly wiping them away.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, coming to sit next to her.

"I don't know," she said. "I didn't even realize I was."

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothings alright," she whispered. "I just, I feel hopeless and, I don't know. I'm sorry, I've had too much wine," she hiccuped.

"It's okay, we've all had too much wine," he grinned.

"It's good wine."

"It is indeed."

Her and Loki sat in silence. They let the breeze wash over them, and they let the smell of the flowers consume them. Ingrid was drunk, and she knew this because she felt like she could go up to Thor and tell him she didn't want to get married to him. At the end of the day, she'd never do such a thing, but the fact that it was even a thought she had confirmed the wine had done it's job.

The wine was also making her think things she shouldn't be thinking at all.

Looking over to Loki, she let her eyes wander over his smooth features, and the sharp curve of his jaw. He was sculpted perfectly, and on Midgard, they liked to say handsome men looked like "Greek Gods." Loki wasn't a Greek God, but he was a God.

Ingrid had always had a crush on Loki. He was charismatic yet smart. Funny yet serious, and mischievous at the same time. He always excited her, made her stomach knot when he teased her. He made a blush arise to her cheeks that never appeared for anyone else.

But she never let this crush get the best of her or distract her from what she was supposed to be focused on.

The wine allowed these thoughts to push through, though.

"I don't think," she started. "I don't think I wish to marry Thor."

"What?" Loki asked, his head snapping to her.

"I don't love him like that."

"I don't understand," Loki said, his brow furrowing. "You two have always been in love."

"It's been fake," she said, taking another gulp of her wine. "For me, at least."

"Ingrid-"

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you all of this. I should," she hiccups. "I should get to bed."

As she tries to stand, Ingrid's wine glass falls out of her hands, smashing on the ground. Her legs start to wobble, and before she knows it, she too is falling to the ground. Loki is at her side in an instant, catching her before her head hits the grass.

"Ingrid, darling," he gasped at her. "You've got to be more careful."

"I'm sleepy," is all that she mumbles, her eyes rolling shut.

"Okay," Loki says, hoisting her into his arms. "Lets get you to bed then."

Loki proceeded to carry her out of the garden and around the side of the castle to a side entrance, wanting to keep people from seeing them in this state together to prevent gossip. Through the corridors and up the stairs leading to her room, Ingrid was giggling at random things that she saw.

Once Loki got upstairs to her room, he carried her inside and gently placed her on the bed. She sighed contentedly when she felt her plush covers beneath her, melting into her mattress. She slowly blinked her eyes open, grinning when she noticed Loki looking down at her.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "Thank you for bringing me up here."

"Of course."

"Loki?" She piped up, sitting up on her elbows. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he replied, taking a seat on her bed.

"Will everyone despise me if I don't say yes to Thor at the altar?"

She watched as Loki's expression softened, his head tilting to the side. She didn't want to cause a fuss, but she couldn't see herself living a long and prosperous life with Thor.

"Ingrid," he started. "Where is this coming from? Everyone thinks the two of you are in love."

"I've never gotten to explore any romantic interests of any kind because i've always been promised to him. But I don't love him like that. I've tried, Loki. He's not the one for me."

"I don't know if you have much of a choice, darling," Loki says, his lips flattening into a disappointed straight line. "What Odin wants, Odin gets."

"He's not the one that I want," she whispered, staring at Loki intently.

His brows furrowed and then relaxed again. Ingrid knew that her remark was suggestive, and would definitely be something she regretted saying the following afternoon. But as per the wine, it felt very appropriate to say.

"I suppose if your suitor of choice is as high of rank as a God to be king, Odin might not have as many complaints."

"He's something like that," she sighed.

Loki began to respond to her, but he was stopped by two sharp knocks on her door. She gave Loki a puzzled look, and he gave her a puzzled look back, neither one of them knowing who could be at the door.

Loki stood and went to the door to open it, and when he did, it was revealed to be Thor on the other side. Loki moved aside to let his brother in, and Thor's eyes immediately went to Ingrid.

"There you are, darling. Are you alright?"

"Yes, just sleepy," she replied, her eyes blinking slowly.

"Why did you escort my lady to her bed chambers without letting me know?" Thor asked, turning to his brother who stood silently in the corner.

"Because she was passing out in the gardens and I didn't want anyone seeing her in such a vulnerable state," Loki replied.

"Passing out in the gardens?" Thor said, whipping around to look at his bride lying on the bed, still in her evening gown.

"I've had a bit too much wine," she said, pinching her fingers in the air as an example of how much wine she's had.

"Why did you even leave to the gardens in the first place?" Thor asks.

"It was loud," she sighs.

"I'm sorry, darling. I know me and my friends can be loud at times."

"Very loud," she annunciated.

Ingrid pushed herself up off of her bed and stumbled into her closet and grabbed one of her silk nightgowns, walking back out and throwing it down on her bed. She started undoing the pins in her hair, feeling immediate relief at the release of tension in her head. The two brothers stood there watching her, and she stopped her motions to give them both a quizzical look.

"What?" She asked. "Have neither of you seen a lady get ready for bed?"

They both stuttered out sorries as they started to exit the room. Thor crossed over to Ingrid and kissed her cheek, whispering a goodnight to her. She caught Loki's eye by her door, and she gave him a small smile. He nodded back to her. The two brothers exited her room, and once she heard the door click she brushed her dress off of her shoulders.

Once she was ready, Ingrid slipped under her covers. She could still feel the alcohol coursing through her veins.

Before her parents passed away, her mother would sing her a song before bed every night. It stuck with her, and sometimes the goddess would sing it to herself before bed, just to imagine her mother there with her. Tonight was one of those nights.

Ingrid felt helpless, her marriage to Thor was rapidly approaching, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She needed her mothers advice more than anything. So Ingrid sang her song.

Nuku, nuku nurmilintu, Väsy, väsy, västäräkki Nuku nurmelle hyvälle Vaivu maalle valkialle. Lintu tuopi liinahapaijan Haapana hyvän hamehen Kaskeloinen korvatyynyn Pääskynen peäalusen Nuku, nuku nurmilintu Väsy, väsy, västäräkki Nuku nurmelle hyvälle Vaivu maalle valkialle.

Ingrid sang her song louder than she's ever sang it before. Usually she would sing it as a whisper, only to keep for herself. But she felt (probably because of the wine) that everyone needed to hear it. And everyone did hear it. Everyone in Asgard heard their goddesses song, and they heard the pain and longing in her voice as she sang. It was vulnerable, and it was beautiful.

And it lulled her and the entire kingdom to sleep.

~~

Ingrid woke the next morning to being shook by her shoulders.

As she opened her eyes, she saw Thor, Frigga, Loki, and a few castle healers surrounding her on her bed. Thor was shaking her awake, concern written all over his face. Everyone looked worried, and Ingrid looked quizzically back at them.

"What?" She asked, worried as to why everyone was so concerned about her.

"Ingrid," Thor said. "Ingrid, are you alright? We've been trying to wake you for an hour. It's one in the afternoon."

Ingrid shot up at that, looking to her clock to confirm the time. She had never slept that long. Wine wouldn't do that to her either, as she's had her fair share of drunken nights far worse than the one she had last night.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I did that," she said, but the people surrounding her just looked more confused.

"Ingrid, darling, what are you saying?" Frigga asked, taking a step closer to her."

"I'm asking-," She started, but she realized that not a single sound was coming out. "Can you not hear me?"

"Darling, we can't hear you," Thor said. "You're just moving your mouth."

All of the blood drained from Ingrid's face as it hit her all at once.

Her song.

She sang her lullaby last night in a very drunk and vulnerable state, making her an easy target. And she was loud. Everyone in the kingdom heard her sing. And someone had done the one thing she had feared.

They had taken her voice.

As soon as it clicked in her mind, her eyes locked to Loki's, and she could tell that he had made the same observation.

"Someone took her voice," he stated, his eyes never leaving hers.

"That's impossible," Thor said, standing up.

"Oh no, it's quite possible, brother," Loki stated, his hands clasped behind his back. "A strong sorcerer heard her song last night, and the vulnerability behind it, and used the right spell. Her voice is gone."

"That cannot be!" Thor boomed, pacing around the room. "Who dare strip my bride of her Godly power?"

"Thor," Frigga said, walking over and comforting her son. "Whoever did this to dear Ingrid will be punished. We will find them."

"What are we supposed to do, mother? She's a goddess, and she's lost her ability. People need her," Thor said.

"She is more than just her gift, my son. She will help her people in incredible ways without her voice."

"Mother, she is the goddess of song. Not the goddess of kindness. She is not a goddess without her voice," Thor stated, blankly.

To hear Thor say this about her, in her bedroom, made her mouth run dry. It was as if she wasn't in the room to him. It was hurtful, and she had never heard Thor speak of her in this way.

"Thor," Frigga scolded. "You know better than that."

"She is not worthy of Asgard's throne if she cannot serve her people like she so promised!" He yelled.

The room fell silent, and Ingrid drew her knees up to her chest to hug them, tears freely falling from her eyes. The only thing that could be heard throughout the room were Ingrid's quiet sniffles, and everyones eyes turned to her when they started.

Thor's eyes immediately softened when he met her teary ones, guilt racing across his face.

"Ingrid, my darling," he started, walking up to her. "I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry-"

But he was cut off by Ingrid's hand shooting up to stop him. He bounced back, hurt flashing across his eyes.

"Ingrid," he pleaded.

She shook her head in response, as no sound would leave her vocals.

"You should go," Frigga said.

"Mother," he said, looking over to Frigga.

"No, Thor. You've done enough damage, it's best for you to go."

With a sigh, and one last regretful look at Ingrid, Thor walked out of her room. Once he left, Ingrid's shoulders started to heave, sobs wracking through her body. She had just woken up, and it was so much to process. She hadn't even gotten the chance to full realize her voice had been stolen from her before the man she considered one of her best friends and was supposed to marry started hurling insults about her in her own bedroom.

Frigga sat down on her bed and pulled her into her. She combed through her hair and whispered sweet words to her to calm her down. Frigga was the closest thing Ingrid had to a mother, and she made her feel better when she needed a mom.

"We will overcome this, my darling," Frigga said. "We'll find whoever took your voice from you. You are no less of a goddess this morning than you were last night. I'm truly sorry for my sons words."

"It's okay," Ingrid said, or tried to say. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, and just nodded back at Frigga instead.

"Loki," Frigga said, motioning for her other son. "Why don't you entertain our girl with some of your magic? Or perhaps a card game? You two used to love to play together."

Loki gave his mother a small smile and nodded his head at her.

"Of course, mother," he replied.

"Thank you, my boy. She is in need of a friend."

Frigga exited the room, along with the healers, leaving Ingrid alone with Loki. She sighed before looking at him, his eyes swiftly meeting hers. The silence was uncomfortable. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to apologize for her actions and words last night, she wanted to confide in him about her tumultuous love life, and she wanted to tell him he was the one that she wanted. But everything would have to be left unsaid.

When they were children, Loki would often put on 'magic shows' for Ingrid. Once, Odin asked for one, and Loki told his father that they were 'only for Ingrid.' His magic entertained her, and he knew this, so each time he'd put on a show for her, he made sure he was showing his favorite tricks.

"So," Loki started, carefully taking a seat next to her on the bed. "I've been working on a new trick."

Ingrid sat up a bit at that, her interest showing. Loki took this as her go ahead.

He raised his hand in the air, palm face up, and mini fireworks started coming out of thin air in the palm of his hand. Ingrid let a smile grace her features, a laugh wanting to escape her so badly.

"It's nothing huge," the God said. "But it's pretty."

Ingrid nodded her head at him, her smile widening. He let out an airy laugh, smiling back at her. He closed his hand, making the fireworks disappear. Ingrid let her smile settle, and his did too. She felt his hand creep to hers, grabbing it in his large hand and giving it a squeeze. Loki's hands were soft. Silky smooth. Just like his voice. Ingrid looked down at their hands, and then looked back to him, her gaze questioning.

"I'm sorry for what my brother said," he started, his gaze soft upon her. "And I'm sorry for the predicament you're in."

Her gaze hardened, a blush forming on her cheeks. She had hoped she had dreamt about telling Loki about her true desires regarding her marriage, but it was evident she had confided in him.

"I've not forgotten our little talk last night," he confirmed, making the girl look away from him. "And I want to help you. I know how it feels to be burdened with something you don't want."

"How can you help?" Ingrid so badly wanted to ask. She wasn't used to not having her voice, and she didn't like it.

"And I'm sorry that you lost your voice," he continued. "You're still a goddess, Ingrid. You always will be. No one can strip you of that."

She gave him a faint smile in return, squeezing his hand back. His hands were ice cold, yet she didn't shiver away from his touch. In fact, she wanted more of his touch. Loki had always brought her comfort, but her hand in his gave her a sense of being grounded no touch had ever given her before.

Everyone knew Loki and Ingrid had a connection deeper than they understood. Loki had never been one to open up, but he had always told Ingrid everything. She too, told him her deepest secrets. They had both seen each other in their most vulnerable states, therefore creating a bond no one could understand.

She had always had feelings for the prince, but she felt naughty when she thought of acting on them. After all, she was engaged to his brother, the future king. She should be fawning over Thor, the future king of Asgard. But instead, Ingrid often found herself lusting over Loki in the shadows.

"Ingrid," Loki's voice said, but this time in her head, his silky voice sending chills down her spine. She gave him a startled look, his telepathic abilities something she wasn't used to. "You can speak back," he continued.

"This is oddly frightening," she said back, not really sure if he could hear her say that or not.

"But now you have someone to speak to," Loki's voice said, confirming he had heard her.

"I can't believe that worked," she said, looking at him wide eyed. They had never communicated telepathically to one another. She knew that he could, but she couldn't. He had obviously made it to where she could communicate back with him. She hoped he couldn't read her mind.

"I can," he said. When she looked at him, mortified, he had a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can hear everything you're thinking."

"Loki stop," she threatened. "I'm more than happy to speak with you because I need it, but I can't have you reading my mind."

"Why? Something naughty you don't want me to know?" He smirked.

Her face heated up, and at the mention of naughty thoughts, images of Loki popped into her head. She quickly willed those thoughts away, her face turning bright red out of fear he saw her thoughts of him.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, grinning at her.

"Loki, get out of my head," she warned.

"But I'm curious as to why you think of me so much," he replied.

If her face wasn't red before, it was cherry red now. She looked at him mortified, and put her head in her hands, shaking it. She was hoping that her actions were enough to get the God out of her head. His laughter rumbled throughout the room as he watched the girl in front of him, clearly in distress.

He moved to sit closer to her on the bed, and her breath hitched. She peeked an eye at him, and she saw him smirking down at her. She was feeling hot, her hands clammy and her forehead sweaty. Loki being this close to her in this state was making her feel fuzzy, and she couldn't tell if she wanted away from him or if she wanted closer to him.

"Who do you desire, my dear?" His voice still in her head, making goosebumps break out all over her body. "Who were you speaking of last night when you said you wanted someone other than Thor?"

"Loki," she said sternly, a warning. If he kept on, she didn't know how long she'd be able to hold her resolve.

"Tell me," he growled, his hand finding purchase on her thigh.

She lightly jumped at the contact, her mouth parting, the air leaving her lungs. She didn't think he felt the same about her, and the realization that he did was both thrilling and terrifying. It excited her because she had always had feelings for him, and it terrified her because of Thor.

"Of course I feel the same, Ingrid," he said, and she took in a sharp breath of air. "How could I not?"

"Because I'm marrying Thor," she said.

"I don't care. You clearly don't want to marry him."

She was at a loss for words, literally and figuratively. Loki was her greatest friend, and she worried what this would do to their relationship. She didn't know how they would go forward. She was to be married in a month and that terrified her.

"This is not how I expected my day to go," she said to him.

"Mine either," Loki chuckled, this time out loud. "I should let you rest, dear. I'm going to assist Odin in finding who stole your voice."

She just nodded at him as he stood up off the bed. She bent back down, however, caging Ingrid in between his arms, causing her to lean back onto her elbows. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and he smirked back at her. One of his hands came up and settled under her jaw, cupping her cheek. She instinctively leaned into his touch, her cheeks bright red again. He leaned forward and took his thumb across her lips, huffing out a laugh as her lips parted.

"Don't think I'll forget this talk," he drawled, his voice deep and smooth like chocolate.

She nodded back at him, swallowing the lump in her throat. He pulled her forward by the neck, and she stopped breathing as she expected his lips upon hers, her eyes fluttering shut. But instead of his lips finding hers, she felt them firmly press on her forehead.

"See you later, darling," he smirked, pulling away from her and laughing as she sat on the bed dazed and wide eyed.

She watched as he sauntered out of her room, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Her hand found her chest, and she placed it there as she slowed her rapid heartbeat. She flopped back on her bed, a small smile forming on her lips.

Maybe this month wouldn't be so bad after all.

~~

A/N: Yaaas! It's done! Lemme know what you think! Definitely more parts to come! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

[d011zk1ll]

Born in 1980 and moving to France in 1996, Sabine spoke predominantly Mandarin and English and spoke little french. She was there as an exchange student, on a scholarship offered to her due to her extended levels of intelligence.

What she had in smarts, she severely lacked in social skills.

After being bullied for the last 14 years, Sabine had learnt to keep her head down and she didn't have many friends, especially when she moved to france. If anyone were to trouble her, she had taken up martial arts after an incident that left her unable to talk to anyone without near panic attacks.

However, she never kept her voice down if she saw someone hurt. She had helped a multitude of her peers against the bullies at school back home in China.

She was strong willed, determined and smart. A perfect holder of the miraculous, and a perfect crush for Tom.

Born in 1980 and the son of the renound Roland dupain, Tom was shy. he struggled in the practical classes. Science being his worst, but he excelled at baking due to being raised by a baker. He was social and friendly with everyone in the class, constantly bringing in treats for everyone.

He noticed the new girl slip into his class on Sabine's first day and set his eyes on being her friend (or maybe more, but that was for him to know and her to find out later, if everything went according to plan at least)

He constantly talked to her, even when she looked away or left.

He had only ever heard her talk to answer the teachers questions and thought she was weird (in an endearing way)

That all changed one day, about a week after Sabine arrived.

Small red earrings (about the size of her pinky fingers nail) with engraved black dots and a golden rim glinted on Sabines pillow in the small apartment her parents were paying for.

A thin, silver ring with dark green paw prints scattered along the surface for tom appeared on his wooden desk, on top of the books he had left there the day before.

And a butterfly that loomed over the city.

One that the two 16 year olds had to fight with nothing but willpower, spite and the worst weapons they could have ever asked for.

What was Yunqi going to do with a yo-yo, and tomcat an extendable pole?

They were going to find out!

---------

My idea for a past miraculous au where Sabine and Tom are holders that I talked about with @catra-taj yesterday. I'm gonna write it as a fic!! >:3

(oh and the reason nobody remembers them is because the entirety of Paris had a memory wipe once they defeated Chrysalis, perhaps the fight was that traumatizing that the ladybirds had to erase everyone's memories.)

Yunqi means Luck in mandarin (I think) and her power would be 'gift of fortune' (It sounds nicer than lucky charm for Sabine)

Tomcat is obvious enough, tom-cat. His power is called 'Carnage' (still kinda workshopping that name but carnage is the best I've got for now!!)

I'll do designs and fleshing out the plot tomorrow!! :D

I'm also doing the whole future au, I might make some references to each other if I end up writing them at the same time!!

[the-house-of-auditore-frye]

Scrooge x FortuneTeller!reader headcanons

So I was originally going to just put this on my concept list but my friend @redlotus98 encouraged me to give writing a go so here it is! (Sorry, not proof read)

Also while, there is no explicit description of the reader, it is slightly implied POC!reader. By the way, I feel I should mention that I don't know how to read fortunes so please forgive me if you do know, and I've written something wrong!

Oh and it's not good. I can't write. Don't judge.😘

Let's begin!

So, you came to London to make a new life for yourself. Your parents back home were very worried about what you would do but you had a plan: fortune telling! On your mother's side, you had learnt the art of it and were prepared to make it your trade!

When you got to London, you were lucky to become friends with a woman called Hela Huffman. She understood the struggle of being so far away from home and offered to take care of you with her husband, Harry. The couple became very fond of you and helped spread word of your business. And soon, your business took off!

Now one particular man was not impressed with your fortune telling: Ebenezer Scrooge. Scrooge had tried everything he could think of to get rid of you - the beautifully exotic fortune teller whom he couldn't get out of his mind all the time! He even tried calling the police on you but that didn't go very far when you predicted the officer was due for a promotion. The worst part was that you had a reputation of always getting fortunes right so he couldn't call you a fraud. You would have picked a fight with Scrooge if he weren't so handsome...

One day, when you had made a quite a bit of extra money, you had been lucky to see Scrooge walking past so you called out to him "MR SCROOGE, CARE TO TRY YOUR LUCK WITH LADY FORTUNE?!" Scrooge scoffed but before he had the chance to reject you, you had an idea: "TELL YOU WHAT MR SCROOGE! I MADE A BIT OF EXTRA COIN TODAY SO HOW ABOUT A DEAL: I WILL GIVE YOU ONE GOLD SOVEREIGN... if you let me tell your fortune..." The crowd that formed around you started to gasp and say "ooooh"

Never saying no to money, Scrooge begrudgingly agreed. When you asked for his pocket watch as an object to read, Scrooge refuses. However, Beryl - your ever helpful assistant- managed to nick his watch to hand it to you. You held it in your hands with eyes closed and started to list off what you saw "Hmmm... I see three singing children, usually meaning a new beginning of sorts and major change in your perception of life... looks like you will turn over a new leaf..." this caused the surrounding crowd to start laughing and Scrooge to growl even more. "The first child looks like a young girl holding a candle stick, the second is a jolly looking boy in a green coat and the third child... is hiding in the shadows. Let me know how your fortune treats you, Mr Scrooge..." you said to him as you placed the pocketwatch in his hand. Luckily, everyone was so distracted by the bizarre prediction that nobody noticed your hands lingering in Scrooge's... After an awkward pause, Scrooge ran off, not wanting to endure this embarrassment any longer.

But a funny thing happened the next night, Scrooge was visited by three ghosts... And the following morning, as he rejoiced for the life he had, he realised that you were right about his fortune and decided to pay you a visit...

Promptly, he found you and started to cheer "Ah my dear, there you are! I feel like a new man on this glorious morning!" You laughed seeing Ebenezer so happy like that, "haha I am glad you are pleased with your fortune Mr Scrooge!" "My dear, please call me Ebenezer! And while I have you here, I was wondering if you would be willing to give me another fortune?" He handed you a small pouch containing what you suspected to be quite a sum of money...

Curious to see his future, you sat him down in front of you and asked for his pocket watch. Once again, you held it but saw something very different...

"Alright... I see you in an arm chair infront of a fire place... with three young girls, the oldest only four years and one is a bab- OH THEY HAVE DAISIES IN THEIR HAIR! THEY ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS! Congratulations! And that is a mighty fine wedding ring on your finger!" Beryl, who was stood next to Scrooge, nudged him with a wink before you continued:

"How sweet... OH and there is Mrs Scrooge! I can't see her face though... wait she is about to turn around! Ready to find out who your future wife is? It is-" Suddenly you stop. You opened your eyes to see everyone, most notably Ebenezer, staring at you with expectation. "Well, my dear... do you know who she is?" After finally snapping out of your frozen trance, you hurried to collect your things "NO, I DO NOT! MY APOLOGISES EBENEZER - GOODBYE" You ran off, leaving everyone lost.

Nobody saw you the next day and Ebenezer started to get very concerned. Knowing you and Beryl are close, he asks the sweet street urchin if she knew why you reacted so suddenly. Beryl admitted that while she didn't know for sure, she had a guess as to why you freaked out and agreed to bring you to Ebenezer's home.

Not two hours later, you stepped into Ebenezer's living room where he immediately started to apologise: "My dear, I am extremely apologetic if I made you feel uncomfortable with my fort-" but you cut him off "No, it was not you. I just... knowing my feelings are unrequited, I did not know how I could face you!" "What do you mean, my dear? What fee-" "IT WAS ME! IN YOUR FUTURE! I AM YOUR FUTURE WIFE! And I know you do not return my lo-" Ebenezer cut you off with a very gentle and slow kiss. "My dear... I have always cared for you. Perhaps in ways I was not aware of but I do return your feelings of love. You are my stroke of good fortune... now about our future wedding and children..."

[gorgeousgalatea]

You know what I'm trying to finally write again and anywhere is a good place to start so here are some bite sized reviews of my bite sized YA binge (including two other books I read a few weeks earlier):

The Narrow, by Kate Alice Marshall: This was a book I borrowed after skimming it with a strong impression I would enjoy it, and thankfully I was right! The main character is the daughter of two well off but neglectful parents who spend way more time on her deeply troubled brother, to the point where she doesn't find out they forgot to pay for her final year at boarding school until she's already arrived. Fortunately the wealthy parent of a sickly student is willing to cover her tuition, as long as she rooms with and takes care of that student for the year. Pity she's pretty sure she's the reason that student is sick. Oh, and their dorm room is haunted as hell.

The Narrows deals a lot with the subject of abuse--both romantic and familial--while couching it in an atmospheric ghost story. I liked the tone and the characters, and one thing I really enjoyed is that it used its first person narrative to paint a very familiar romantic fiction picture of the main character having no one else to relate to or rely on other than their new love interest who is ~the only one who understands them~, and deliberately made that the product of her own insecurities. The ghost and possession element also explored sense of self and identity in a way that pinged pretty hard with my ozqrow days. Bittersweet ending, but would recommend for anyone into sapphic ghost stories.

Before the Devil Knows You're Here, by Autumn Krause: Ehh this was the mediocre apple story. I loved the summary--the main character's struggling single father passes away suddenly, and before she even has time to mourn, the monster her father has been warning her about her entire life shows up on their doorstep to steal away her brother as well, so she sets out to find the monster and save her brother. I dunno, the problem could be me, that summary had me expecting Guillermo del Toro style Labyrinth--which I am now realizing someone could say "don't you just mean Pan's Labyrinth" and no, I mean the relationship with maturity and sexual awakening where the monstrous is outwardly monstrous--and that's...really not what it was at all. It was "what if Johnny Appleseed made a deal with the devil," which kudos, I have not seen before, but wasn't really into in its execution. I do appreciate a heroine with guile, though, and she does have that.

I Fed Her to the Beast and the Beast Was Me, by Jamison Shea: The premise of this one is pretty straightforward--a talented black ballet student makes a deal with a dark entity to have the opportunity to actually make it into the prestigious Parisian ballet troupe she's been chasing after her whole life, and discovers that being part of a cult with monstrous powers is actually less toxic than being a girl of color in the Parisian professional ballet scene. I really liked this one, it wasn't afraid to have its leading lady be monstrous and cruel and wrong, and it also made it clear which parts of her mindset were just the product of spending so long in a cut-throat industry that spent every moment rejecting her. The ending was a bit too neat for me, but overall the atmosphere was great. Genuinely almost anything with a title like that is probably something I'll end up enjoying lmao

What Stalks Among Us, by Sarah Hollowell: Two best friends get stuck in an evil corn maze! This wasn't my favorite, but I still enjoyed it a lot; the main character's habit of self-censoring even among friends was very resonant with me. The story hits the ground running and has good momentum on exploring the mystery of the maze and how it came to be. The nature of the maze is ultimately rooted in [womp womp] trauma, so that's a major element of the story, and unfortunately there is greater focus on the main character's trauma with her best friend supporting her, but I guess that's to be expected in a first person narrative. It still is ultimately about their friendship! Which is portrayed as valuable as is without developing into anything else.

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, by Andrew Joseph White: Ultimately the most brutal of the books but I think that was what I liked about it. The main character is a trans boy in an 1882 London where mediums are a hot commodity but the women are only prized as potential baby makers for male mediums. The main character is caught trying to escape his conservative family and inevitable impending marriage, and sent to a corrective boarding school designed to turn mentally unwell spiritually sensitive women into demure brides. This boarding school is run about the way you would expect, and most of the story is the main character realizing just how bad it is and figuring out what can be done to escape. The exactly one way he's gotten lucky is that he and his future betrothed turn out to be t4t and are really quite cute together, but the main character is an aspiring surgeon and that means the story is not afraid to get visceral. Which really elevated the tone; there's room for a sequel in the ending to this one that I wouldn't mind reading.

[townsenddecades]

1321 – Day 3

The third quarter of 1321 is a busy one for the Townsends.

There is the field to take care of, of course – and the Townsends are glad to see that now that summer has come, neither rain nor cold is damaging their plants – as well as Frank and Adeline, who are getting more curious by the day. Their parents spend a lot of time with them, but sometimes, they keep their grandfather company in his workshop, too.

But the children and the plants growing aren’t the only fortunate development. One evening, Gregory receives a message from his sister in Praaven that excites him: she has indeed found a painter that would be willing to take him on as an apprentice, provided his family has the simoleons to pay for the apprenticeship. He begs his father and brother to provide him the funds, and they assent, in hopes that it will give him new opportunities in life.

His apprenticeship will take him away from his home into Praaven, where he’ll at least be able to see Anna regularly. But there is one thing he has to do first. Before he leaves, he makes the trip to the abbey to tell Agnes of his joyous tidings.

She is full of happiness for him.

“Oh Gregory, that’s wonderful! I always knew you’d find someone that would take you on.”

“I’m a little anxious that I’ll be a disappointment after Anna has done so much for me”, he admits. He had put on a confident face with his family and brother, but somehow, it is easier to admit his fears to her. Agnes merely smiles.

“You won’t be. I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you. Your confidence in me means a lot.”

They are quiet for a moment, until she clears her throat. “I assume you won’t have as much time to come visit once you’re busy being a painter’s apprentice?”

“Oh, I…I hadn’t really thought about it.” Somehow, to his mind, it had been obvious that he’d still visit her. He can’t really imagine not seeing her for months on end. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what my master will ask of me. But I promise that if I have any time at all, I’ll come by.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She hesitates a little, then takes his hands in hers. “I really like you, Gregory, and I’d miss you greatly if that were the last we see of each other.”

“It won’t be”, he promises, with emphasis. “Even if we won’t see each other for a few months, I’ll find some way to contact you. You can read and write, can’t you?”

“A little”, she says, face already brightening. “Then I’ll only have to hope that you won’t forget about me once you’re a famous artisan in Praaven.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “No chance of that. Because I’ll come back for you once I’m independent. If you’ll have me.”

She stills had that, her beautiful golden-brown eyes widening. “What are you saying?”

“That I like you too, Agnes, and that, should you feel the same, I’d like to have a life with you someday.” His heart is hammering in his chest as he admits too it. But he knows it’s true. Even when he hasn’t needed to, he has made the trip to the abbey to see her, because he enjoys her company. And she is a hard worker, kind, and has always supported him.

He knows they could have a good life together, if he manages to become independent. If she is willing to wait for that.

Her eyes are shining with tears, and she nods vigorously. “Of course, I feel the same, you fool”, she says.

He kisses her then, and luckily, this time there are no disapproving older sisters around to berate her.

He returns home with a light step that evening but does not tell his family about his understanding with Agnes, yet – they have agreed that he will broach the subject once he can be sure that he will be able to support a family.

The rest of the Townsends are a little melancholic at the prospect of his leaving, but they know it is an opportunity for him, and Benjamin, his father and the older twins are enough working hands to make sure the fields are tended to.

Nevertheless, they try to enjoy their final weeks together as much as they can.

Prev: 1321, Day 2, Part 2/2 <--> Next: 1321, Day 4, Part 1/3

[lochdandloaded]

now here's Aoyama's gargoyle design and backstory! :D

More art and designs can be found in the ‘My Gargoyle Academia’ tag~

[MANGA SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT]

The Aoyama's, a once proud French-Japanese family, are a Fae bloodline considered to have been 'tainted' with Peludas, demons and monsters by society around them, leaving them magically weak and pariahs to both Fae and humans alike. Yuga's parents used excessive magic, their own and others', to disguise their forms with glamours in order to get by, but once Yuga was revealed to be too weak to hold such spells for long, all hopes of a somewhat normal life for their precious son dissipated and the young Fae was subjected to immense cruelty.

Wanting to protect him, Yuga's parents followed a cousin's advice to immigrate to Japan, where Yosei and human lived as a single society, facing no prejudice for their kind. But what they found when they arrived could not have been more different; they were classified as Yokai, a subclass on the bottom of the Japanese social ladder, barely considered sentient beings and treated as such by humans, Yosei and Gargoyles alike. At the end of their rope, the Aoyama's began to search for any solution to their problem, anything to give Yuga the life he deserved, and initially tried to use glamours and magic to pass as the Gargoyles they so often saw widely celebrated and loved, but their efforts were futile.

Soon enough, their digging got them in contact with a gang that dabbled in black market magic and other underworld dealings, who promised a meeting with a Yosei powerful enough to permanently change your form for a small price. The Aoyama's, desperate, agreed to the meeting and found themselves face to face with All For One himself. AFO gave Yuga's parents a powerful glamour spell and altered government registrations while transforming 4-year-old Yuga himself into a Gargoyle, as he was young enough to actually survive the process and the biological changes that would come later in life (though not without side effects that would emerge in his teen years). The Aoyama's were eternally grateful for this new lease on life and the opportunity for Yuga to grow up freely, willing to pay just about anything but AFO simply told them that the only payment he'd need was a favour he would call in at a later date.

The Aoyama's were left to their own devices for years afterwards, keeping their ears to the ground for AFO's favour, and hoping he'd never need to call upon it. They cultivated a small fortune in their import business dealings and Yuga grew up in comfort with new dreams, though with a heavy shadow always lurking nearby.

And eventually, All For One came knocking...

[karrenseely]

A Letter to my bio mother.

A few years ago my mother wrote me out of the blue, after having not spoken to me for 20 years. She ignored me when I finally managed to graduate college despite all she'd done to me, she (and the rest of the family) ignored me at my father's funeral, she ignored me when I graduated from medical school. That first year after she and dad disowned me I wrote to them about once a month. I never got a response. That Christmas I stopped by our house and dropped off Christmas presents for everyone (Mom, Dad, Sister). Mom wouldn't even look at me and retreated into the house. Dad basically told me to go away, I didn't belong there anymore. It hurt, a lot. Then a few weeks went by, and I got a box in the mail, I was excited because the return address was my old home, I thought maybe, they've finally accepted me and come to their senses. I opened the box and was immediately crushed, they had sent back all the gifts I'd worked so hard to find for them, unopened, still in there wrapping paper. So needless to say, I was very surprised to see she had messaged me on FB, and that old hope resurfaced once again. I opened the message and was crushed... once again. She had sent me a message to yell at me. This is the letter I would have liked to send back. Instead, I blocked her because it hurt so much, even now I second guess that decision because a part of me still wishes she could have loved the daughter she had.

The message I am responding to: "I just saw your go fund me page. Our hope in "cutting you off" was to leave enough time and space for you to grow up and really think about the huge step you were wanting to take. It didn't help that YOU told us it was our fault and then demanded that we pay all your medical expenses to have the surgery. You are as much to blame for the family separation as your Dad and I are. I will accept my part of that blame. I knew when we did it that we might never see you again but it was a risk both of us were willing to take because we were hoping you would not choose to take such a difficult path through life. It was a gamble and we lost, but so did you. You have a wonderful, intelligent, funny, sweet, smart family members you have never even met. Erin's kids, Paul and Kayla. Your loss, believe me. They are great great kids and that is not a comment just from their grandmother. We hear it all the time from other adults that get to know them. When you left I lost my only son, then I lost him again when you had the operation. Not having children you can not begin to comprehend the depth of that pain. Losing a parent doesn't even come close. God gave me a second chance to have a son in my stepson, Karl, and now that has been snatched away from me as well because he committed suicide in April. Do not underestimate the amount of pain and loss your family has gone through because of your choices. Your Dad, Mother, Grandma Seely, Grandpa Seely, and all your aunts and uncles grieved for you and the person we all knew and loved named [Deadname]. Fortunately, your Grandfathers never knew what you were doing as it would have destroyed both of them. Life changes ALWAYS leave huge ripples in the pond. I wish you well in your chosen life but don't place all the blame on the family YOU chose to leave behind."

Dear Mom,

I do not understand you. I am your daughter. I have always been your daughter. On some level I'm sure you've always known this. I'm sure as a toddler I said I was a girl. I remember doing lots of things that were not typical for a little boy, but certainly were for a little girl. So I'm sure you knew, though you denied it. You denied me.

I will always be grateful to you for letting me play dolls and barbie with my sister, for letting me get a doll instead of a transformer, for teaching me how to cross stitch, knit, and encouraging me to read. For teaching me how to do household chores and how to cook. For making sure I took my medicine and staying up with me at night when my asthma was bad, for sending me to camp Not-A-Wheeze, for not letting me die on those horrid nights when I couldn't breathe. For saving my ankle and my ability to walk. For going to bat for me when that teacher really didn't like me because I had such a hard time acting like a boy.

But this is also why you hurt me so deeply. Because I mistook you loving the son you thought you had, that you wanted, for loving me. I was hurting so much. By the time I came to you, I was desperate. I was already self harming, though you never knew. I had already gone through the process of accepting I was trans, not that I liked it, but it was the only way I knew of to find any relief from the torment of not being allowed to be me. I was dying. I was already fighting the shame I'd been taught. I'd already learned it was bad to be a girl, and that it was doubly bad to be girl that everyone insisted was a boy. I had desperately tried to hide it, I was terrified of being friends with girls, because I thought if I was, someone would learn my horrible shameful secret. I had been dealing with these feelings for years before I came out to you. And I knew, if I didn't get help, I wasn't going to survive. So I came to you. But you denied my feelings and called it a phase... except this phase had lasted for years, when I look back, it lasted as long as I could remember, though I didn't understand that at the time.

I was so lost and confused, my parents didn't believe me. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to last a little bit longer. I think I came out to you again. This time you denied I was your daughter again. Things were bad, really really bad. By that time, puberty had already started and was destroying what little comfort I could find in my body, worse, to my horror, my voice started to drop. I knew there was treatment to stop this from happening, and I so desperately needed it. But everytime I asked for help I was denied. Worse, anytime I couldn't hide the fact that I was your daughter you yelled at me, shamed me, made me believe I was freak, a pervert, a monster. I felt so helpless, so hopeless, and so very very alone. I broke. I know I stopped growing mentally at that point. I dissociated so much, that what memories I have are fragmented, and I got stuck at age 15/16 for years. I couldn't cope with the world anymore. Somewhere in there you sent me to a counselor. I didn't know you were hoping he would erase me. And he hurt me, he hurt me so much. I thank the gods and the universe that you didn't force me to continue seeing him, and instead sent me to the only female psychologist in that office... but it was in that office, it was impossible to fully trust her, I never was able to talk about how I was really feeling, because I never felt safe in that office.

I stopped feeling safe at home too, after I came out to you. My parents who were supposed to love, accept, and support me, instead turned on me. Demanded I explain why I existed, why I knew I was a girl. Adult's can't even explain this, and you demanded this of me, a child. And no matter what explanation I managed to draw up, it was never enough for you. Instead you twisted it, and used it to dismantle any self worth I had, any sense of safety I had with you. For some reason, looking back I have no idea why, I trusted you right up to the day you disowned me. I thought I deserved everything you did to me. I thought that if you didn't love me, then no one could. I never even tried talking to my only two real friends I had after you disowned, as I was convinced they would hate me too if I came out to them. Thankfully, I was wrong about that.

Sometime later, I began to learn that what you did to me was wrong, I began to understand it was abuse, but it didn't really sink in, until I was at a queer youth retreat and one of the sessions was about the power and control wheel. It was then that I really saw what you had done to me, that what you were doing to me was abuse. You gaslit me from the day I was born, and everytime I tried to tell you otherwise, you told me I was crazy, I was shameful, I was broken, I sick, I was wrong, I was sin incarnate. You did everything you could to try to control and erase me short of outright murder. Worse, you actually told me you wanted me dead. What kind of mother tells her daughter she wants her daughter dead?

At some point, my maternal grandmother got a hold of me. I think it was a letter via snail mail. I learned that she still wanted to have a relationship with me. She didn't understand, and she constantly misgendered me and dead-named me, but she at least talked to me and welcomed me into her home. Then a few years later after she moved into assisted living for awhile, she disappeared. There was no forwarding address, I had no way to contact her, you stole her away from me. By that time she didn't have the cognitive faculty to get a hold of me on her own. I never saw her again. You took away the only living relative that still wanted a relationship with me... Then years later, you dangled her contact information in front of me, like I had done something wrong by not talking to her all that time. And you told me she was dying. But by that time I had already grieved for her, I couldn't go through that heart break again, and she was so far into her dementia that she wouldn't remember me anyway... why reopen those old wounds. Today I understand that was my CPTSD (from you, my peers, and society's abuse) telling me to avoid anything that would hurt.

Then, seven years ago... gods has it been seven years? It still hurts so much. Seven years ago, you apparently found out about my project to try and create a halfway house for homeless LGBT+ kids. You decided to write me the last message I ever got from you. You blamed me for what you did. That somehow it was my fault that you disowned me. You know, that day that you cut me out of your life, out of our entire family, you showed me your love was conditional. I remember you telling me that you'd take me back if I only would continue to pretend to be a boy for you, but you would be monitoring me to make sure I wasn't letting the real me out. You shattered the love and trust I had in you.

Even if I figured out somehow that I was wrong and I was a boy, how could I go back to you? To parents who never really loved me enough to let me figure everything out, to parents whose love was so conditional. And yet you say you did it for me. That is a lie. You did it for yourselves in a last ditch effort to try and continue to control me to be your imaginary son. You didn't do this to help me understand "what a huge step [I} was wanting to take." I was already well aware, I had spent years figuring that shit out even before the first time I came to you looking for help. I knew what I was in for, I'd had flashes of it for years in the abuse I suffered from my peers when they saw the girl I was trying to hide. I knew it from all the research I had done, from the fellow trans people I knew online by that time.

I didn't choose to be disowned. You chose to not love me, accept me, or support me. You chose to disown me. I didn't have any say in the matter. And yes, how you chose to respond to my distress, my suffering IS your fault. Shaming me for being your daughter when you wanted your imaginary son. Shaming me for being a girl, for teaching me that I was something that needed to be hidden, something horrible, something icky, for forbidding me from talking to my sister about it, the only other person I had ever considered talking to about it after coming out to you, why? The only conclusion I could reach at that age is that I was so sick, so horrible, I would somehow corrupt her too. So I obeyed you and no, I never told her. She learned some of it on her own, but because I wasn't allowed to talk to her about it, she considered me a pervert. I never discussed any of it with her... not until after you disowned me.

So yes it is your fault. I WAS A CHILD! Worse, I was your child! Of Course I thought you would help me! It's why I came to you in the first place, it's why I kept coming to you. Because I WAS YOUR CHILD! I was your daughter and I was suffering so much. The only two paths I could see, that I could ever see was death or finally getting to be me, in a body that didn't constantly hurt me so much. But you denied me all of that. You denied me. You chose to do all of that to me. For what? For an imaginary son that never existed? You broke me. Of Course I blame you for that. I blame you for all the emotional abuse, neglect, and medical neglect you did to me. You were my mother, you were supposed to love ME, not some imaginary person you wanted instead, but ME. It is beyond twisted to me that you think I am as much to blame for what you chose to do to me. I didn't have a say in the matter. I had two options: live and be myself (while apparently losing everyone I ever loved) or dying. I chose to live. I refused to die for you. You haven't accepted any blame at all. You never did. All you do is try to gaslight me into believing that my being your daughter is somehow my fault. I didn't get the choice. You decided to create me. You decided to give birth to me. You decided to accept the responsibility of raising me. And then when I refused to be what you wanted... you threw me away like garbage. The only reason you never saw me again is because you never accepted that you had a daughter instead of a son. You never loved me. You wanted me dead and told me so yourself. With everything I went through growing up, it's a miracle I survived. To this day, I don't know how I did. Not with how much you tried to destroy me. You gambled with my life, hoping I would choose to continue to pretend to be your son, that I would continue to endure the constant torture of not being me. I would not have survived that. I barely survived at all.

Thank you for reminding me how much you took away from me. You took away my parents, my sister, my extended family. You took away everyone I ever loved. Thank you for reminding me that I have never been allowed to meet my niece and nephew, who by now are adults living their own lives. I pray to this day that neither of them were LGBT+, given the family they grew up in... it would have been a nightmare for them. I still grieve that they never tried to get in touch with me, that my sister never allowed me to be part of their lives.

You said when you disowned me you "lost [your] only son." But that's the whole problem. You never had a son. And you refuse to see this. To this day, you deny my existence, and blame me for it. And you assume I don't have kids. I have 3 wonderful kids who are becoming adults as we speak, or are approaching adulthood far to rapidly for my liking. They are amazing. And unlike my niece, nephew, and step brother, you chose to never have them be a part of your life. I am so proud of them. So please don't presume to know how I would understand the pain if I were to lose them. And please don't presume to think that the pain of losing a child is the same as losing everyone you ever loved, of knowing your parents hate you, of knowing your mom wanted you dead. The pain of knowing this when I was still just a child. These are two entirely different traumas. Please don't equate them. And please don't presume that it wasn't you who chose to throw your child away like she was garbage.

When father died, you ignored me, you tried to keep me away from his funeral. If my sister hadn't called me, I would never have known. And then at the funeral you never acknowledged my presence, no one from our family did. Instead you had your church lackeys try to push me out the door while I sat in that chair weeping, grieving. Did you know, that it was then that I finally understood you were not ever going to love me, accept me, or ever be a positive part of my life.

My grandfathers never knew the real me, because you made me believe telling them would kill them. I remember I tried reaching out to one of my uncles once, but it was such a hard conversation, and it only felt like they wanted to get off the phone. They never called me back or tried to reach out to me. No one except my maternal grandmother ever reached out to me in any positive way. So please don't tell me they all grieved for me, they chose to never talk to me again. They chose to cut me out of their lives as much as you did. I have very little sympathy for them, given when you disowned me I was homeless. I couch surfed throughout that summer. I really needed their help, since you refused to help me. Had it not been for some amazing friends letting me stay with them, and helping me get back on my feet, I would have ended up on the streets, like so many homeless LGBT+ kids. They chose to do that to me, just as you did. So no, I won't cry any tears for them choosing to throw me away too.

You mentioned that I had a step brother, whom I was never able to meet. You seemed to think you could replace me with him. I feel so bad for him, that you would put that burden on him. And then before I even knew I had a step-brother, he took his own life. I wonder every day if it was because he was LGBT+ and the abuse he suffered killed him. I wonder all the time if you abused him like you abused me. I wonder, what if he had been able to talk to me, get support from me, if he'd still be here. It hurts to know he died by suicide, because I wonder if it was for the same reason I almost died. I will always wonder...

You wrote this letter hoping to hurt me I think. You succeeded. You hurt me again. I had managed to live my life, find a family for myself. A family that actually loves me for me. Whom I can share all the joys and sorrows of life with. Whom got to see the joy I experienced when I finally got to be myself. When I didn't have to hide anymore. Who got to see me graduate college, who got to see me go to medical school, who saw me graduate and flourish. With three wonderful children that I helped to raise, and 6 others that are like nieces and nephews to me. But out of the blue, you wrote to me, to try to hurt me again. For what? Because I wanted to help other LGBT+ kids who went through what I went through? How petty is that? And yet despite everything I had accomplished, everyone I loved currently. You still managed to find me and hurt me again.

The day I got that message from you, was the day I was finally able to make a choice about our relationship. I'd never been able to before. It was the day blocked you from contacting me on FB ever again. Please don't try to contact me again. You made your choice, and it is apparent to me that you will never acknowledge what you did to me. How much you hurt me. How 27 years later I'm still in therapy over what you did to me. I've long since lost hope that you'll ever tell me you love ME and that you're sorry.

Sincerely, your daughter, always,

Karren

[theresnohopelivinghere]

Half a Love Song

There was a rumor going around town Madame Elza, a kooky fortune teller with a store off on the outskirts of town, could help you to find true love.

She said that if you listened to a certain love song at a certain time while thinking of your crush or your ideal boyfriend, he would appear at the Morris Lookout Point on the night of the full moon. Nobody ever believed her. They all assumed she was just a grifter in psychic clothing. But my friend Kana believed her - so much that she was willing to pay the $100 fee in hope of snagging a high school sweetheart.

I didn't want to go. But she begged me to. She didn't want to be alone. It didn't feel right for me from the start. As Madame Elza, with her thick red lipstick and messy chestnut hair guided us to a viewing room in the basement, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't wait to get out of there. There was nothing right about this - yet Kana couldn't be convinced. She wanted a love of her own - a love that she desperately wanted that she believed Elza could give her.

The video was modern - couldn't have been more than a few years old - but the ballad reminded me of the syrupy sweet pop songs from the 50s and 60s my parents loved so much. And yet it didn't - I couldn't place my finger on it, but there was something off about it. Maybe it was the tinny sounds that hummed with every high note. Or the blonde singer who seems to beautiful to be real. Or how the screen would distort every now again, static giving way to images I couldn't begin to understand but it nonetheless left me uneasy. But Kana wasn't bothered by any of it. She sat there in wonder, and I wondered if she was thinking about what she'd do if this thing actually worked.

I couldn't watch the whole thing. The images and sounds were too much for me. I got through about half of it, pushing away thoughts of a tall, dark and handsome stranger before I looking down at my phone, texting my mom what I wanted for dinner before clicking on some random purse ad.

Once the video finished, Elza came back down to the viewing room, a scowl on her face. Before Kana could say anything, she thrusted a hundred dollar bill back into her hand."

"Get out of here and don't tell anyone else what you did today," she hissed under her breath. "And don't go anywhere near the lookout point on the full moon. You'll regret it if you do."

Before Kana could protest, Madame Elza all but through us out. Kana, despite getting her money back, was heartbroken. I was just glad to be out of there. That was something seriously wrong with that women and we were better off staying away from her. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

One week later, the full moon arrived. Kana called in tears, begging me to come with her to Lookout Point. Once again, I tried to tell her to let it go - even brought up that crazy lady's warning. But she wouldn't listen to me. She was desperate for that perfect love nothing would stop her. I refused to go and she accused me of being a bad friend before hanging up.

It didn't take long for the guilt to eat away at my conscious. With phone and flashlight in hand, I made my way up to the lookout point in hopes of helping Kana when she needed me most.

I'll never forget what I saw. Kana slouched down onto the ground, eyes wide with a vibrating terror, a swath of blood and bits covering the right side of her face. Beside, a beautiful man, sprawled on the ground, the entirety of his intestines spilled down stomach, soiling his crisp white dress shirt and tailored black pants.

In front of us was a figure, blacker than black, yet vibrated with a sinister energy not of this world, making it darker than ever. The only thing that wasn't black was the redness of its eye, and the blood and guts that covered it's right hands, sharp like knives, talons.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The figure...was half a man. One eye, one shoulder, one hand, and one leg.

I understood Madame Elza's warning.

Half a man.

Half a love song.