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[hairloss-treatment]

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[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 2

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Doflamingo is a menace

——— 

Shanks: 

Swears it’s a hangover cure, and this man is hungover every single morning. He’ll wake up with a pounding headache, and before he’s even opened his eyes, he’s reaching for you. He’ll paw at you like a lazy animal until you remove your panties for him and he can fall face first into your delicious cunt. He’s trained your cunt like Pavlov’s dog, too, so that you wake up wet in the morning, your clit throbbing like an alarm clock. 

“Always ready for me,” he’ll mumble in his raspy morning voice. “Nice and wet. That's my girl.” 

You actually get a rash on your inner thighs from his stubble constantly rubbing against your sensitive skin, and you have to sheepishly approach Hongo for some sort of cream. Hongo has been on the Red Force long enough that he’s not phased, though you are so embarrassed you try to ban Shanks from going down on you for a while (spoiler alert: it doesn’t work). 

“I’d rather lose my arm than skip breakfast.” 

He’ll spend most of his time between your legs licking with broad strokes of his tongue, only pointing it and attacking your clit when you’re already on the brink of orgasm. He’ll finger you as you cum and won’t stop until you’re a crying mess, begging him to stop. Of course, he’ll only stop for as long as it takes him to get his cock out and push it in. 

Beckman: 

"Come here, babygirl. That's it."

Beckman drinks your juices like a nightcap. He’ll put you on his desk, the moonlight filtering in through the window and a lamp flickering in the corner, and unzip his pants to give his massive erection some breathing room before turning his attention to his babygirl. He likes to start slow, taking his sweet time with your nipples and leaving a trail of hickies around them, before finally burying his face between your shaking legs.  

“Give daddy a taste.” 

He’s nice and sweet about it, but don’t think he won’t hold you down if you start to squirm around too much. He goes down on you like you need it, not like you want it; he goes down on you like it’s for your own good. It’s for his own good, too, that thing that takes the edge off and helps him wind down after a stressful day. He wants your legs wrapped around his head and your hands tangled in his long hair. 

Oh, and he wants you to tell him that he owns you. Nobody else is allowed to taste your pussy; it's all his, and you'd better chant that while he draws your orgasm out of you.

Mihawk:

A proponent of fine dining. 

Will eat you out on the table, which kind of makes you feel like he’s doing it in public because his dining room is so large and there are massive windows with no curtains covering them; his insistence on you removing every article of clothing, not just your panties, and sitting on the table, feet on the edge, holding your legs as far apart as they’ll go only makes you feel more exposed. All the while, he remains entirely clothed. 

He’ll scold you if you wrap your legs around him. It’s his meal and he’s going to enjoy it precisely the way he wants, and the way he wants is uninhibited. He drags it out, too, edging you multiple times and lecturing you about delayed gratification if you complain. When he does finally allow you to cum, he tortures your clit for a moment after to be certain he saw you through your entire orgasm.  

Other times, he’ll be sitting in his chair and see you walk by and say, “y/n, come here.” He’ll have you strip down before laying you on the coffee table and working an orgasm or two out of you. Enjoys it so much that at times when he’s training or preparing for something, he’ll ban himself from indulging in your pussy because he needs to be focused. 

Crocodile:

Sir Crocodile has a big cock, but he normally stretches you with his fingers. Oral sex isn’t foreplay to him, it’s a separate thing entirely. He normally engages in it very late at night or very early in the morning when he’s exhausted and you’re half asleep. He’ll run his hand down your body, stopping briefly to massage your breasts, before pulling your legs apart. 

“Wake up,” he might grumble in your ear. Or he might not, instead waking you up with a few kisses to your clit.  

He probably kisses your pussy more than he kisses your mouth. He’ll make out with your leaky opening, swapping your juices for his saliva, part of him wishing he still had his other hand so he had more fingers to torture you with. But he’ll settle for one, going back and forth between your nipples and squeezing them until you cry out, then squeezing them some more.  

He doesn’t talk to you while he does it, a far cry from how he mocks and argues with you during penetrative sex. When he’s in an especially bad mood, he doesn’t take his hook off, and you wake up with it pushing into the soft flesh of your thigh, a silent warning not to close your legs on him. And when he’s finished, he’ll push you back to your side of the bed without a word. 

Doflamingo: 

Part of being his toy means being tormented with his tongue. He has a fucking giraffe tongue, and he puts it to good use, often laying back in bed and making you ride it like it’s his cock, moving it out of the way and then making fun of you when you struggle. He makes you talk to him the entire time, and when you’re not sitting on his face, you have to make eye contact with him. 

He’ll talk to you, too, and is so fucking patronizing. 

“Use your words, little one. Come on, you can do it. Don’t tell me it’s too much for you.” 

Uses a lot of different toys while he’s going down on you, typically a butt plug and nipple clamps. Has most definitely used a transponder snail to take pictures of your wet pussy, flush and swollen after he spent an entire afternoon tonguing it; the clicking sound of the snail camera was so humiliating but it made your pussy throb so much harder. 

One of his favorite things in the world is tying you up with his strings and spitting on your cunt. He has, on a handful of occasions, tied you up and allowed his subordinates to lick your pussy, but never lets them taste your cum; right when you’re on the edge, he’ll take over and make them watch while he takes your orgasm all for himself, usually with his cock. 

Corazon: 

Eating your pussy is his stress relief. The number of times you burned dinner because you were cooking and he came home in the middle and bent you over the counter for an appetizer is unreal. He always apologizes, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop doing it; he can’t stop doing it. And you’d be cruel to make him considering you can feel the tension leave his body as soon as his tongue runs through your folds. 

“I needed this so bad. Thank you so much.” 

When he’s not bending you over a counter, he wants you riding his face, and none of that hovering shit, either. He’ll wrap his arms around your thighs and hold you flush against his face, moaning as he laps at your folds.

“I can tell you need it, too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

He’s so sweet about it, it’s unreal. Smiles the entire time, places so many sweet kisses on your clit and opening. A big fan of the two finger and tongue combo. Can work an orgasm out of you in record time. Never fucks you without making you cum at least once on his tongue (he’s 9’7 and his cock is proportional). 

Smoker: 

Smoker almost always ends up eating his cum out of you. He’s gone for weeks, even months at a time, and when he walks through that door, you’re dropping your panties or he’s ending it all. He has so much pent up energy he absolutely has to fuck you, but that doesn’t change the fact that what he’s been jerking off to every night is the thought of tasting you. 

“Don’t think for a second we’re finished yet.” 

He’ll take breaks to kiss you on the mouth, making you taste yourself. And then he’ll work his way back down your body, leaving hickies on your neck and biting your nipples before he’s back between your legs again, pushing his tongue into your hole to get every last drop of both of your juices out, his thumb seeing to your aching clit. 

You won’t even make it to the bed, he’ll just fuck you against the wall or on the counter and then drag you onto the floor to lick your cunt. He’s attempted to get you to the sofa before, but you just end up pushed against it while still on the floor, or else bent over the arm or sitting on the edge while he kneels between your legs. 

Also, the two of you don’t shower together often, but for some reason, the times you do shower together, he always ends up with his face between your legs. You’ve wasted so much water because he can’t keep his damn tongue to himself. And when he’s finished, he always places a few sweet kisses at your entrance as if to reward you for behaving. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. SHOWER ACTION.

You already know that Atsumu's in the shower before you hear him in it, nudging the front door shut behind you, heels falling off of your groaning feet. The first matchup of the pre-season has ensured that.

Muscle memory makes you step over the routine dufflebag he drops in the very middle of the entryway, shaking the strap off of your ankle when it catches. His sweater's on the back of the couch.

You'd take it down the hallway with you, but you follow the clothes like a roadmap instead. Toeing along, kicking his track pants out of the way with a scoff, rolling your eyes and wondering how he completely missed the hamper.

An athlete, he calls himself.

The shower turns your bedroom hot, steaming up the windows from the open ensuite door, the mirror dripping with water. You can feel the humidity ruining the hair you worked so hard to keep tidy this morning.

"Atsumu?" You sigh, tugging it loose and glancing at him through the mirror.

It's more so what you can see of him— the frosted glass of the shower punishes you mostly, keeps you to watching his blurry body turn, his head twist to your voice. You can see him turn to face the water again.

"Hey baby. How's work?"

"I'm gonna guess better than the game today?" You pick up his sweaty jersey with your foot, taking in the distinct yet familiar smell of sharp pines and locker room. "Judging by the state of our home."

Atsumu breathes out sheepishly, but it sounds like a grin. "I'll clean it all up, don't worry."

"I know you will."

"Yeah, for sure." He hesitates, humming when he rubs at the crook of his neck. "Maybe tomorrow morning? Swear."

You don't care when he cleans it up, really. Your eyes haven't left the shower.

Quietly, you start to undo your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders and peeling it off of your sticky skin. You toss it near Atsumu's abandoned shorts.

"Been in there a while?" you huff, blindly turning on the fan. "Hot as hell in here."

"Everything hurts," he groans. "Fuckin' hate coming off the off-season— not used to it."

You purse your lips. "Gonna stay in for a little while longer?"

It's quiet, aside from the shower running. His shadow moves, leans closer to the glass before standing upright again. His hands tease you over the top, combing through his hair.

"If someone wants to keep me company, can't really say no."

(He must sense your eyes rolling, because he chuckles and slips the door open a crack.)

You shimmy your tight skirt down your legs, stepping out of everything embarrassingly fast. Your cami ends up hanging off the sink and your pantyhose are in a ball, but Atsumu's waiting hand has you getting inside the shower as fast as you can manage.

Where he isn't drenched in water, he's painted by a thin sheen of heat, the steam of the shower dripping down his temple. His hand welcomes you first, guiding you closer so his lips can greet you next.

Atsumu rests a hand on the side of your face, droplets of water swarming down your chest like snakes. He kisses you sloppily, tongue trying at yours the second you let him, teeth grazing your lip when you pull away like he's begging you to stay.

"Sore, huh?"

His eyes travel down— over your chest, sternum, hips. His hands follow in the same order like a drill— tits, chest, beautiful, beautiful hips. "Forget I said anything 'bout that,"

"You should rest, really,"

"Stop teasin' me, it's just cruel," he frowns, "need you to give me a cure tonight,"

"Yeah? It's called eight hours of sleep and Voltaren."

He rolls his eyes, lidded with said sleep— the hand holding yours that pulls you closer and his half-hard cock between you say something entirely different.

Atsumu's hand gropes your ass, fingertips dinging into fat until you get impossibly closer, until he's basically against your stomach and you're basically just looking at his lips.

"You should—"

"Should," he emphasizes, murmured against your mouth as he kisses you again, chaste but lingering, "but this is what I'm actually gonna do."

"What?"

"You," he hums, tucking a strand of your half-wet hair behind your ear, blocking the water and hoarding you to himself. "Gonna be my cleanse."

You snort, fingers smoothing over his abs and down to the base of his cock, nails gently running over the dark trail of hair. "That right?"

"Mmmyeah," he says through a groan, yawning before he slots a hand in between your legs, trailing it up your inner thigh as you finally get him in your hand. It's the only place he's wanted to be all night, besides your bed. "Feel so fuckin' good, fuck,"

You sigh against his chest, tilting your head up to taste him again. Like spearmint, like the gum he must've chewed on the drive home just knowing you'd end up here.

"Shit, alright," he sighs, hips lazily rolling into your palm as you look up at him with eyes that make him wanna pass out.

"Gotta choose now— you wanna be on your knees first or do ya want 'em over my shoulders?"

You breathe out a laugh, sliding your hands over his slippery arms, over every muscled ridge as you lower yourself to the tile floor, kissing his hip when you get there. "Romantic, really."

Atsumu's body tilts your way, chasing your lips down, leaning into your touch as he brushes a thumb over your cheek. The kiss you place on his flushed tip is greatly appreciated— he lets you know it.

"Yeah, honey, I try," he breathes. He smiles so warmly down at you that it's almost like you're not about to suck him off. "Just wait until I get you to bed, yeah?"

"We both know you're falling asleep."

"Well, after we get outta here you will be, too."

"Mm, we'll see."

Atsumu barks a laugh, delicately running his hand up your nape before taking a stronger hold on the base of your hair.

"Oh, you're so on."

[written-in-flowers]

Her Lover: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubi!hongjoong x fem!reader | side pairing: demonline x fem!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, major angst MINORS DNI

Word Count: 11k

Summary: Often called "The Beauty" of his brothers, Hongjoong's "hollow day" turns even worse with a visit from his vicious mother and an appearance from his absentee father. The only cure: you.

Tags: polyamorous relationship (m/m/m/f), depression, violence, ritual sacrifices, graphic depictions of death, mentions of mental illness, medication, mentions of bad childhood, mentions of abuse, mentions of emotional neglect, parents being shitty overall, orgies, incest, alcohol usage, outdoor sex, sex in the woods, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, very little foreplay, exhibitionism, face fucking, rough oral sex, sloppy oral sex, cum swallowing, light spanking, dom/sub dynamic, choking.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next >

***

He loved watching you sleep. He knew how creepy that sounded, but he enjoyed it. You looked the most peaceful when you slept. Wrapped in a cocoon of suede and linen, there was no smug smirk or furrowed brow on your face. In dreams, you escape all the confusion of this new world and sink into the familiar again. Laying beside you, he wondered what you dreamt about. You’d once had a nightmare about your mother, but as far as he knew, that didn’t happen anymore. Hongjoong hardly remembered his dreams. When he did, he saw blurry, brief images that left him empty inside. 

The first time Hongjoong saw his mother, he was six-years-old and living with a witch in Korea. He recalled playing outside in the small courtyard in front of their hanok when a woman appeared at the gate. The witch, an old hag named Aro, looked stunned and fearful at the sight of her. Hongjoong recalled her stuttering and bowing to the strange woman. She had flowing black hair with smooth yellow-brown skin and thin dark eyes. He remembered her hardly giving notice to Aro, but instead focusing on him. Back then, Hongjoong didn’t know many demons. Aro told him he must keep his true identity a secret if he wished to stay amongst the living. She’d stared at him with brown eyes circled by a thin crimson line and he knew. Most mothers might smile at their child, especially one they barely saw. Not her. 

‘Hello, Hongjoong. Do you remember me?’

‘No.’

How could he when the last time she'd seen him, she'd popped him out of her? Back then, he’d hoped she'd come to take him to France to live with Seonghwa, his elder brother. Perhaps take him to Hell, where he can see his father, Asmodeus, who’d seen him far more often than her. But, no. Mistress Youngmi came for something else. 

‘I have need of him tonight. Bring him to the old meeting place at dusk.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

Hongjoong didn’t know what she’d planned at the time, but he’d soon find out. His mother gathered her coven of followers, witches whom she’d recruited, to perform ritual. They needed the blood of a demon, the blood of a cambion, and the blood of a human to enhance their powers. He recalled his fear as he pushed stray hairs from your face. Witches, gruesome and snarling, terrified him as his mother dragged him to a cauldron at the cliff's edge. He thought she planned on killing him. He believed this mostly because he’d just seen her slice open the human’s and cambion’s throats. Hongjoong fought and struggled against her tight grip. His sharp claws detracted and he swiped at her sleeve fiercely. This only earned him a harsh smack to the face. Obviously, his mother did not kill him. She’d simply cut open his finger and let a few drops fall into the dark red potion. Humans and even cambions in those days meant nothing to demons. Their blood can be spilt by the gallon. His blood, Aro told him, was special. 

He’d seen how your mother interacted with you. She’d embraced, kissed and comforted you. Witches weren’t known for their kindness. Aro begrudgingly cared for him, he knew. If she wished to have high favor with his mother, she’d care for her son. Yes, she fed, clothed and housed him, but nothing more. This left Hongjoong to his own devices most of the time. He then started hanging around the wrong kind of crowd: the street urchins who got by stealing and committing petty crimes. By the time he was fifteen, young Hongjoong had been behind bars eight times for mostly arson, theft, vandalism, and assault. Reform schools did nothing to “cure” him. The officers there, mean and wicked as they were, could not understand how the little boy with the dark red hair didn’t feel pain. In fact, whenever one of them hit him, they’re the ones who felt it. 

That’s when Hongjoong learned his special ability: Transference. When he returned home from a stint in prison, he told Aro this. Hongjoong still remembered the terror on her face when she saw him put a kitchen knife to his wrist. 

That’s when Seonghwa, sixteen and dressed in the finery of a French nobleman, came to collect him. 

Your faint yawn pulled him from his memories. He laid there and watched you gradually shift from your dreams into reality. Hongjoong never felt or understood love before. Until Seonghwa, he didn’t know what that meant or felt like. He’d known nothing but cold, harsh anger and disdain. Only with Seonghwa, and eventually San, did he understand love and loving in return. He never imagined feeling that with anyone else. Yet, when he saw you, naked and trembling at his soft touch, he felt it blossom in his chest. Nobody other than his brothers made him feel whole. He didn’t understand it at the time; he still doesn’t, but he doesn’t question it anymore. The empty space in his heart belongs to you now. 

“Morning,” you said, voice hoarse from sleep. 

“Morning,” he replied, kissing your cheek. 

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t feel like getting up yet.” 

He wanted to look at you a little longer. Even in the dimness of his bedroom, he still made out your face. “Don’t you work today?” you asked him. 

“Always.”

The mere thought of the lower dungeons sent a shiver through him. He hated the cold down there. The tunnels only remained warm because of the volcanic vents underneath the stone floors, a luxury given to the jailors and not the prisoners. He much rather preferred the warmth of your body than the chill of his dungeon. But, he knew he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities, Seonghwa had taught him that. 

“Stay,” you whispered, kissing him softly. “Stay with me today.”

“I would if I could, Pet.”

Even without your collar, he still called you ‘Pet’. He couldn’t see himself calling you anything other than affectionate pet names. You’d become too precious. Sometimes, he wondered how things might have been if he’d known you before. Would he have gone down that destructive path if he had your warm touch to soothe him? Would he have suffered lonely nights if he held you in his arms? He didn’t know. He didn’t like entertaining the ‘what ifs’. 

“Not even for a little bit?” you asked, taking his hand to put on your chest. “You didn’t touch me last night.”

He hadn’t for a while. Not because you didn’t arouse him anymore. In fact, you are one of the few things that did. 

“Is something wrong?”

Hongjoong stared at his hand on your breast. Normally, he’d be fondling and kissing you deeply, not caring about the consequences. But, today he couldn’t find it in him. Today was a ‘hollow day’. He rolled onto his back, staring up into the dark canopy of his bed. The wooden posters of his bed, molded snakes coiling around them, connected into a point at the top. His eyes followed them over and over. 

“Hongjoong?”

“I’m fine,” he said, though it did not sound convincing. 

“No, you’re not. Is it me?”

“Never.”

“Then what is it?”

‘I was thinking about my terrible childhood and how you’re one of the few people who matter to me.’ It sounded stupid when he thought about it. “Just tired, that’s all,” he said, stretching and yawning. “I really don’t want to go down there. It’s cold.” 

He rolled out of bed before you pressed him further. Hongjoong did not want to talk about his mother or the letter she’d sent yesterday. He would’ve torn it apart if Seonghwa hadn’t opened it first. 

“Then stay,” you said, your hand sliding up under the back of his shirt. Not a sexual touch, but a comforting one. Fingernails traced the small part of his back in idle circles, keeping him grounded beside you. “You’re a freaking duke, Hongjoong. What are they going to do? Fire you?”

He snorted a laugh. In truth, the dungeon masters cannot do much to him in particular. The higher a demon is in society, the less consequences they face. He couldn’t get away with murder, but he could get away with missing a day of work. But, Hongjoong couldn’t stay home today. If he’s in the lower dungeons, then he won’t be home when she arrives. If he isn’t home, she won’t stick around. 

‘Mother is coming to visit. She says she needs you for something. I don’t know, it doesn’t say.’

���It’s my responsibility,” he said over his shoulder. “I have to go.” 

“Well, can I come with you then?” 

He turned to look at you, “What?”

“Yeah,” you scooted closer to his side of the bed. “I’d like to go with you.”

This didn’t sound like you. When he mentioned you coming to the dungeons with him, you’d look disgusted. Yet, now you’re in his bed asking to join him. Hongjoong turned to look at you, seeing the softness in your eyes. You know he’s hollow. He doesn’t know how you do, but you do. Maybe you don’t know either. Seonghwa told him certain people have connections they can’t explain. That might be what you two have. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s not a fancy place.”

“I don’t mind.”

He laughed, “You?” He laid across you, trapping you underneath him and said, “The one who gets all squeamish when she sees blood?”

“I don’t get ‘squeamish’ at blood,” you defended. “Women see blood way more than men do. It’s all the gore and torture and stuff that’s gross.”

“And there’s plenty and more of that where I work.”

“I know, but,” you gazed over his face for a moment, much like how Seonghwa does, “I haven’t seen you much lately. You’re always working.”

He felt guilty about that. His brothers made time for you: coming to see you at lunch, taking you out on dates at night or spending time in your room or the greenhouse. Hongjoong tried doing the same, but sometimes he didn’t have it in him. His hollow days became more frequent when he didn’t have the thin, minty elixir that balanced him out. Yunho told him the apothecary ran out of mint leaves, and wouldn’t have them for another week. This coupled with a visit from his mother had Hongjoong swallowed up by his sadness. 

“I want to be with you as much as I want to be with San or Seonghwa,” you told him, not shuffling when he moved up your body. “I want to take care of you too.”

That sentence usually sparked a fire inside his loins, but not today. Hollow days never involved sex. “I know, pet,” he said, kissing your lips. Nothing tasted or smelled as sweet as you. He hoped his mother never saw you. He refused to let her ruin anything he loved. “Sure,” he finally said, “You can tag along this one time.” 

He gave you one final kiss before the door opened. “Good morning, sir,” Yunho said, walking by the bed to open the curtains. Bright sunlight shone into the room, burning his eyes as they adjusted to the light. “I suggest you get dressed quickly.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, blinking his eyes and rubbing them. 

“Your mother is here.”

Every muscle in his body turned stiff. “What? Already?”

“Yes,” the butler nodded, facing him. “She arrived a few minutes ago. Your brothers have been told, and Master Seonghwa is meeting with her now.”

“Your mom’s here?” he heard you ask. 

He lifted himself from his position over you and sat on the edge again. She never came this early. Mistress Youngmi didn’t like rising early. She also rarely visited Hell anymore. She said she detested the stench of the city or the uncouth demons that lived there. Youngmi always considered herself above everyone else. 

“Yeah,” he finally said. “She wrote and said she’d be stopping by.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you sat up in bed, “I can meet her too.”

“I don’t want you to meet her,” he replied. 

“Why? You know my mom. Why can’t I know yours?”

“Because she's a vicious bitch,” he snapped, irritation settling into his chest. “She’s a parasite that infects and sucks the life out of everything around her. Even Lilith doesn’t like her.” He looked over at you, “My mother is a narcissist who sees her children as nuisances. She only comes around when she wants something from one of us.”

When she wants something from him specifically. Much like you, things hadn’t ended happily the last time he’d seen her. 

‘My sisters need your life’s blood in order to keep serving myself and your father.’ 

She loved those grotesque witches more than her own offspring. “I don’t…I don’t want her infecting you too.”

To be honest, once his mother learned who your grandmother was, she’d proceed with more caution. Even if she did think highly of herself, even the dumbest demon knew not to mess with Lilith. 

“If she’s not happy, nobody can be happy.” 

“I’m pretty sure she knows about me anyway,” you told him, rubbing his back. “There’s no point in trying to keep me a secret. I’ll go with you.” 

“If you insist…”

Hongjoong went to his bathroom, forcing himself to clean up even if the hollowness weighed him down. You came in after, shedding your clothes and stepping into a prepared bath, he didn’t notice much. He knew you sensed his sadness, and didn’t know how to cure it. He wished he knew himself. Hongjoong tried giving a reassuring forehead kiss, but you still didn’t believe his muttered ‘I’m fine’.

“How are we today, sir?” Yunho asked, placing a tea tray on a table. 

“Could be better,” he said, walking into his closet to pick out a shirt. She’ll expect him to wear proper clothes like his brothers. He picked up his torn, altered Sex Pistols t-shirt from the rack. “Has Andris called?”

“I’m sorry, he hasn’t. I’ve sent one of the footmen to his shop to get an update. As per usual, I added a bit of whiskey to the coffee. I know it is not a proper replacement-”

“-Better to be numb than hollow, Yunho.” 

He pulled the white sleeveless shirt over his torso, and picked distressed black denims to go with it. If Youngmi considered him a child, then he’d act and dress the part for her. He took a sip of the coffee, tasting the whiskey in the richness, and felt it warm his body. Jumping into the tight jeans, he’d been sliding a studded belt through the loops when San appeared in the doorway. 

“Where’s YN?” he asked. 

“In her dressing room,” he answered. “She says you’re taking her to the dungeons today.”

“She asked,” he shrugged. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Not really, but she insisted and I want to spend more time with her.”

“Is it really quality time if she’s sitting in a corner while you torture people?” 

“Like I said, she asked.” 

San remained silent. He noticed his tailored three-piece suit, and thought of how suffocated he’d feel in that. Hongjoong wondered how awkward it must be to walk into the stone, ancient arena’s common area in a 1950’s suit. Then again, time periods blended together in Hell. Hongjoong ruffled up his hair, letting it hang in front of his face before he picked up an eyeliner pencil. 

“Yunho says the apothecary doesn’t have your mint in stock,” he said, walking around the dressing room aimlessly. 

“He said he might have it next week.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” 

“I’m not.” He took another sip of his spiked coffee with hopes of feeling numb, “I’m fine.” 

“I don’t think you should take YN with you today. Just take a day off and stay here,” San suggested. “There’s nothing wrong with a mental health day.” 

“I said I’m fine. It’s no big deal.” 

“So, you’re not dreading going to work because of all the movement and crap you have to do there?” he asked, eyeing Hongjoong’s shirt collection. “You’re up to socializing today? Having to use up the last bit of battery in you to make it through the day?”

“Yup.” He held down his lower lid and applied the eyeliner. 

“And this coffee is regular coffee, right?” San opened the carafe Yunho left behind and sniffed it. “And not spiked with whiskey at all?” 

“It was his idea. Not mine.” 

San came to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You know we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

“She’ll only be here for five minutes tops,” he said. “Just give her what she wants, then go do something with YN. Maybe take her into the city on a breakfast date or to the movies or something. Do something with her that isn’t breaking a person to pieces.”

“I have to work.”

“No, you don’t. You want to go to escape the hollowness. Torturing other people to relieve your own sadness doesn’t do anything but make it worse. You know that. Stay home today.”

San didn’t get it. Digging his knives into prisoners, listening to their tortured screams, distracted him. When he's working, he doesn't have to think about all the pain inside him. He'd be too busy for the hollowness to drown him. Hongjoong felt agitated about work, but knew that staying home made it worse. 

“Come on,” San said when Hongjoong did not answer him. “Don’t take her there. You know she only asked because she can tell there’s something up with you. You don’t want her to see how you get when you’re in the heat of it. It’ll scare her. Shit, it scares me.”

Hongjoong rubbed his face, an irritated groan covered by his palms. He knew San was right. Even if you put up a tough front, the dungeons would sicken and frighten you. The only one allowed to be traumatized in the keep is him. 

“She’s not going to let me stay,” he said, running his hands through his hair. 

“Mom?”

“She’ll want me to go with her. She tells me the blood needs to be given, not taken.”

“Is it really ‘giving’ if you’re forced to go?”

“I guess?” 

A rocky cliff at the edge of an old forest became the meeting place for his mother’s followers. Hongjoong thought of the open waves crashing into the jagged rocks below, and the sea air blowing through the tall trees. The cauldron often stood on a stone platform right where the moonlight shone. She never told him what the ritual did or what the potion was for. He only found out when Seonghwa told him. 

In order for witches to maintain their immortality and immunity, they needed the blood of three beings: a human to keep their youth, a demon with the power of transference to keep them immortal, and a cambion to bind both together. She typically lured or paid demons handsomely for the ritual. 

“Why can’t she just have another kid?” he groaned, his body heavy and fatigued. He had no desire to go anywhere or do anything. “It’s not like she’d have to care for it.”

“She says having kids gets in the way of her life,” he rolled his eyes. “Cunt.” 

Hongjoong snorted, making himself finish the other eye. “Finish up here,” San said, patting his back, “And come downstairs. She’ll get more annoyed the longer you keep her waiting.”

And when Youngmi gets annoyed, it becomes everyone else’s problem. Hongjoong pulled on necklaces, bracelets and rings before deciding he looked suitable enough. He took a final gulp of his coffee, letting the whiskey settle into his stomach before nibbling on a biscuit. When he reentered his bedroom, you walked in at the same time. A tight black sweater and the blue high waisted skirt shaped out your gorgeous curves, and you’d worn minimal makeup and the long snake earrings he’d bought you. He gave a weak smile, kissing your cheek before bringing you into his arms. 

“I decided not to go to work today,” he told you, burying his face in your hair. “I’ll probably end up going somewhere with my mom, so work’s out of the question.”

“That’s fine,” you said in his shoulder. “Do you want me to bring Linette to your room and you can have some fun with us?”

“Tempting, but no.”

“Maybe you can play your guitar and I can sing for you? You like doing that, don’t you?”

“Not in the mood. I…” he held you a bit tighter, inhaling your scent. “Let’s stay in bed together today. I can have Yunho bring the TV here and we can hang out.”

You pulled away from him, looking into his face. “We can do whatever you want to do,” you said. “I’ll tell Jongho to get us some snacks, and we’ll be a couple of couch potatoes together.”

“After my mom.”

“After your mom.”

He looked forward to it already. Taking your hand, he led you out of his room and down the stairs. He found his brothers in the sitting room where servants laid out a small cheese and meat spread with spirits. Hongjoong had no appetite for the food. The woman sitting on his couch ruined any possibility of breakfast. Youngmi, wearing a long black and red dress, sat on his couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She’d draped black strings of onyxes around her large horns, the strings connected by a large gem. He wondered who paid for that. When she looked over at him, her expression delighted him. 

“Hongjoong, must you insist upon dressing like a child all the time?” she said with distaste. “Look at your brothers: well-dressed gentlemen. I can’t imagine what people must think when they see a Duke walking around like he rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he saw.”

“Don’t, Mother. You know what too much thinking does to your head,” he replied. “What do you want?”

She didn’t answer right away. Youngmi’s eyes landed on you beside him. “Ah, so this is the one that’s been living here,” she said, unimpressed. “I would take her with us, but I already have a cambion lined up for the ritual.”

“You wouldn’t want this one, Mother,” he said, already feeling the animosity between them. 

“Why is that? Because she’s your little plaything?”

“Because Princess Lilith will be absolutely wroth with anger,” said Seonghwa, cross-legged and munching on a cracker. “She wouldn’t like the idea of a no-name demon mistress utilizing one of her granddaughters in a blood ritual.” 

“She’s one of Lilith’s?” Youngmi asked in surprise. “Impossible!”

“It’s very possible,” he replied. “Plus, our beloved doesn’t particularly like doing things people tell her to do, so I wouldn’t risk it.��� 

“What’s your name, girl-”

“-My lady-” Hongjoong corrected her. “I think you’re forgetting your place, Youngmi.”

She glared at him, “What’s your name?”

“I’m YN,” you replied disdainfully. 

“YN, a name as pretty as you,” she simpered. “Your father is going to love her.”

“As if he’d ever see her.”

“He’ll have to when he shows up.”

“Dad’s coming here?” Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, who grimaced. 

“I just got the letter,” he said, nodding to a paper on the coffee table. “He said he’s coming for a special ‘visit’.”

“Great,” he gave a mirthless laugh, “First her, and now Dad.” 

He sat on San’s couch, head in his hands. “I don’t see why you are so distressed, Hongjoong,” his mother said. “The Eternal ritual is done every ten years. You must’ve known this was coming.” 

“A strangely short timespan for witches to recharge their powers, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning back on the couch. “Don’t you have another demon for this sort of thing?”

“I normally do,” she said, “But my usual volunteer got himself banned from the living world so now I need you.”

He grabbed a tea cup and one of the cheese knives. All he did was think of her, and with a single slice of his index finger, his mother hissed. 

“Ugh, you little bastard,” she glared, holding her bleeding finger. 

“Sorry,” he said innocently, “I can’t control it sometimes.” He squeezed a few droplets into the cup, then passed it to her. “There’s your blood,” he said, wrapping his finger in a napkin. The gash along his finger didn’t hurt, but it certainly bled. “Have a nice time. See you in another fifteen years.”

“You know that’s not how that works,” she scolded. 

“Find a way to make it work,” he retorted, staunching the blood from the wound. 

“The demon has to give it willingly.”

“You know, San posed a pretty good question to me earlier: is it really ‘willingly’ if you’re forcing me to go up there?” 

“It’s good enough,” she said. “It’s not like it’ll take long. Besides, when we’re done, you can have your pick of the ladies there. They’re all eager to see you again, especially after this year’s mass.”

“Your witches are cute when they’re in human form,” he remarked. “I closed my eyes with most of them even then. Besides,” he grinned at you, “I have something much better now.”

“Enough of this nonsense,” Youngmi said irritably. “The longer I spend here arguing with you, the more moonlight I’m losing up there.”

“Money.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Pay me and I’ll go.”

“You’re already wealthy, Hongjoong-”

“-Don’t care. Money and I get to bring YN with me. I think I’d enjoy pounding her underneath a blood moon,” he winked at you, “It’d be special for sure.” 

“Fine,” she snapped, “Fifteen-hundred gold and you can bring the girl.” 

“Sixteen. I like even numbers.” 

“So be it,” she grunted, slamming down her wine cup. “Why couldn’t I be like the other mistresses and have sons who don’t give me headaches?” she ranted as she stood, walking out of the room. “Patricia’s boys never give her so much grief.”

“That’s because she sees them once every two hundred years,” Hongjoong called after her, “Maybe she likes even numbers too.” Once she’d left, Hongjoong checked on his finger. The skin nearly knitted back together, he grabbed a new napkin and stood up. “Looks like pancakes are going to have to wait, pet. We have a ritual to attend.”

“A ritual?”

“I’ll see you two later,” he said to his brothers. 

“Don’t make a scene, Hongjoong,” warned Seonghwa. “Just give her the blood, and come back home. It’s not worth making a fuss.”

“And then put up with Dad all night.”

“Dad’s not all bad,” said Seonghwa. “Alright, he’s just as absent in our lives as her, but at least he’s fun.”

“He also brings gifts when he comes,” said San. 

“Yeah, to make up for not being around.”

“Still,” he shrugged, “Better than pure disdain. You’re also getting sixteen hundred out of it, so it’s not all that bad.”

“You’ll have me with you,” you told him, coming to his side. You examined his finger. You winced at the split skin, “Gosh, doesn’t that hurt?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “I might not be able to dig into people’s minds or lift them over my head, but I can make them bleed without touching them. That's why she wants me to go so badly.” He then kissed your lips, and said, “You being there will make it so much better.”

Your smile filled his hollowness for a few seconds. “I still want those pancakes when we come back,” you said with a small pout. 

“You’ll get them,” he promised, “And a bit more if we’re up for it.”

“Hongjoong!” his mother screeched from the entry hall.

“Come on,” he slid his good hand into yours, “Before she comes back in here shrieking.” 

The both of you walked outside where he saw Jongho waiting by the door. “Mistress,” he said, “Your mother just sent a messenger. She wants to know when you’re coming to Eden. You have lessons with your Aunt Gaia.” 

“Tomorrow,” you answered as you passed him. “Tell her I had something unexpected come up.”

“Yes, Mistress. I assume I tell Cook to hold off on the breakfast?”

“That too,” you said over your shoulder. 

“As you wish.” 

Walking down the steps into the sunlight, he chuckled. “Aren’t you becoming a real Mistress…”

“I’m only being myself,” you shrugged. “I don’t mind doing stuff on my own, but I won’t complain if someone offers to do it for me.” 

You took to your status easily. He imagined the life you lived above resembled the one down here, minus the CEO position and office jobs. Hongjoong couldn’t imagine working a normal desk job. It sounded dull. He saw the corporate slaves in the official buildings, typing at computers and answering phone calls. Like Mingi said multiple times: demons might scorn humans, but they certainly mimicked them well. They’d adapted a monarchy and class system; they’d rebuilt the barren wasteland of Hell into the flourishing city of Inferno; rather than live in caves or dens, they’d constructed houses and buildings. The volcanic rivers and lakes became utilized for a heat system underneath the city streets. Hongjoong saw it as they stepped into a car and began riding away. Demons of all generations and classes picked up culture and fashion from various periods, causing a period clash that molded together perfectly.

“I remember the first time I came to Hell,” he said out loud, gazing out the window. “I was seventeen and fresh from the living world. My dad threw this huge party for me in his mansion. I’d never been around so many demons before; I thought I’d never fit in with them. Everyone acted so sophisticated and refined, while I was a scruffy street urchin in fancy clothes.”

“Were you scared?”

He thought about it for a moment, “Kind of? I didn’t know anyone besides Seonghwa, and San hadn’t turned seventeen yet so he wasn’t there. I hardly knew my dad and my mom even less.”

“You see him more than her?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re not close but he invites us to holiday gatherings and we see him during black masses. I’d rather take his company over hers any time.”

“Is that why you’ve been so moody this morning?” you asked him.

“Maybe.”

You wouldn’t get it; not many people did. He thought about the elixir again and wondered how long it takes to get some stupid leaves? He considered asking you to plant some, but the idea left him feeling sick. He didn’t like talking about it. If he talked about it, that meant his problem was real and not in his imagination. He only started taking the stuff when Seonghwa insisted. Even though he enjoyed rebelling against his brother from time to time, he knew Seonghwa meant well.

“You know you can tell me, right?” you said, breaking into his thoughts again.

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you?”

You’re likely not used to seeing him this way. He’s always been the fun, rebellious, handsome brother who fucks you until you’re a incoherent mess. Today, he’d rather be wrapped in blankets and staring into the void.

“Because I’m fine.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I said I’m fine, alright?” he snapped, a tightness forming in his chest. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m good, okay?”

“I’m only worried about you,” you stuck yourself into your side of the backseat, not touching him anymore. “But, whatever.”

He’d hurt you, and he hated himself for it. Hongjoong thought to reach out to you, but he stopped himself. Out of his pocket, he withdrew a flask. In a single swig, the smooth brandy went down his throat sharply. He knew you’d seen him. Mingi, the driver today, saw him in the rearview mirror. Why did people have to stare so much? Why can’t they leave him alone?

“We’re here, sir,,” Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

He moved to get out, but Hongjoong opened his own door. He hadn’t intended to slam it. When he looked up, he saw they’d parked in front of the transport station. While trains ran throughout the city, taking people from point A to point B, a special section remained reserved for trips into the living world. He spotted his mother standing near the gates, and he tucked his flask into his back pocket. You walked past him, hardly giving him a glance and likely regretting coming along, and he wanted to take your hand. He wanted to apologize.

“She hates me,” he told Mingi, who came up beside him.

“Hate is a strong word, sir,” he replied, watching you walk towards Youngmi. “She’s just ticked off, that’s all. She really cares about you, Master. We all do.”

Deep down, he knew that.

“Quit dawdling,” his mother called as he approached, “We don’t have all day.”

He considered taking even longer just to annoy her. The blood moon only lasts so long. His eyes met yours, and you looked away from him.

‘Please, don’t look away. I need you. I need you so badly,’ he thought.

“Hongjoong-” his mother started.

“-I fucking heard you,” he remarked at her, pushing past one of her Imps towards the transport gates, “Let’s get this over with.”

He reached the portal gate before the rest of them. At a kiosk, he punched in his name and chose the destination. A white ticket shot out of the slot, and he nearly tore it apart removing it. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his bed, holding you and wishing he never had to wake up again. Yet, here he was, scanning his ticket on the gate to let himself through. He felt several people behind him, their presence irking him the longer he noticed them. Naturally, his mother walked ahead of him to the black and green vortex inside a stone archway.

“I’m doing your stupid ritual and then leaving,” he told her one final time. “You have your little minions wire me my money after.”

“You better watch your tone, boy,” she retorted, “Or I’ll-”

“-What? Ignore me for another ten years? I wish you would.”

“You’re just like your father, you know that?”

“Better than being like you.”

He walked through the portal before her, enjoying the weightlessness in the dark void. It nearly suffocated him before the scent of pine wood and crisp winter air reached him. When he came out the other side, Hongjoong took in deep gulps of air. All around him, he saw a dark, sparse forest of thin trees and leafy grounds. Time in the living world and demon world flipped each other: Hell’s day time was a human’s night time. Seonghwa would have some scientific explanation for it that he’d tune out when it got too complicated.

“The breeze is so wonderful,” Youngmi inhaled deeply. “Hell never has any seasons.”

“It’s Hell. It’s supposed to be hot.”

Youngmi rolled her eyes, “Follow me.”

Hongjoong looked over his shoulder to you next to Mingi, taking deep breaths. He should’ve been the one explaining and preparing you. He felt like a total dick now.

“Hongjoong!”

If she called his name one more time, he’d find the sharpest stick he could and stab himself with it. Then, he could watch her bleed for once. Hongjoong moved along with her Imps, the small child-like demons who live to serve. He never particularly liked them. Their uncanny appearance to children freaked him out, but not as much as the witches up ahead. In the darkness of the forest, he saw a bright orange and yellow glowing between them. He could hear mad cackling, cheering and saw shadows dance around the large fire.

“The Grand High Witch approaches!” one of the Imps said in his gravelly voice, calling the witches’ attention. “All hail the Grand High Witch!”

“Hail the Grand High Witch!”

Oh, she loved this. Hongjoong did not need to see her face as she strutted up to the clearing with her head up high. He wished he could smell the ocean, but the smoke and fire overpowered it. When he pushed past the clearing, he hoped none of them noticed him. However, they did.

“Master!” one witch hissed, bowing awkwardly to him. It was awkward for her because her hunched back made it difficult. Her pale skin was marked by black holes, and her black lips were cracked and hung open. “Master, you came! You came!”

“We’re delighted to see you, Master,” another said. When he looked, he saw whom he called ‘The Twins’. Two women stuck together by the waist, their long mottled claws reached out to him with their black eyes full of lust and longing. “Yes,” said the one on the left, “So delighted.”

“Um, yes, evening ladies.”

They simpered at his awkward greeting. A witch with an elongated face and a long crooked nose grinned at him with rotten teeth, while another stood at hip height reaching out for him. His stomach churned seeing them. He wished they’d use their human forms.

“Who is she?!” a very tall witch, bony and stooped, pointed at you. “We already have a cambion!”

“She’s with me,” Hongjoong grunted at her, moving over to take your hand. He saw the shock in your eyes at the sight of the dozens of witches in front of you. "Stick close to me,” he assured you, knowing your fear outweighed your resentment towards him. Your fingers sliding between his kept him from drifting. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

The crowd of witches parted as he guided you in front of him. They hissed and snarled at you. One snapped her large jaws, laughing when you flinched.

“She looks tasty…” a witch with spikes coming from her head came to your side. It wasn’t her who spoke, it was the face in her throat. “Scrumptious.”

“I can smell your fear, little girl,” said another, her head similar to a skeleton head with skin, “You’ll make a fine feast.”

“Back off,” Hongjoong growled, baring his canine teeth and flaring the crimson in his eyes. He didn’t bring out his true form very often, but he would for you. “Before I shove you all in the fire!”

As he guided you by the waist, Hongjoong noticed your soft skin gradually turned hard. When he put his full hand on it, he felt the roughness of tree bark. It started at your waist and went up your sides. Armor? He knew you’d started taking lessons with Rhea, who taught you combat and defense skills. He didn’t think you’d gotten that far already.

“We’ll only take a bite!”

A witch with horns all around her head moved forward before a silver blade reached her throat. Mingi, stone-faced and cold, held his blade to her neck.

“Take a bite and I take your life,” he said, deep black eyes glaring at her as his skin slowly turned a light red. “Understand, witch?”

“Ye-yes, Master.”

Finally reaching the front of the crowd, Hongjoong saw a large black cauldron on top of a stone platform. The first time he’d seen it, he recalled the putrid scent coming up from the boiling pot. He remembered the heat against his skin, the steam burning him as she hung his hand over the potion. Hongjoong gripped your waist without meaning to, knowing he’d have to do that again. Looking into the sky, he saw a full moon hanging in the pitch blackness. Soon, an eclipse will occur that will turn the moon from its bright white to deep red. In the rays of its light, the ritual will be performed.

“Daughters!” his mother raised her hands for silence, “Tonight, we gather underneath our sacred moon to fortify and strengthen your powers! With the blood of humans, you maintain your youth. With the blood of a half-breed, you maintain your physical form! And with the blood of a demon of transference,” she glanced over at him, “You maintain your immortality.”

The witches around him hissed, clicking and growling their approval. “Saia, Beatrice!” his mother called to a witch nearby, “Bring out the human first!”

“Oh my god…” he heard you breathe.

“Please! Please, let me go! Please!”

She must’ve been nineteen or twenty-years-old, he deduced. Long blond hair that shone in the firelight, her porcelain skin and slim body made her a perfect candidate. Two witches dragged her over to the cauldron, the woman kicking and screaming between them. Hongjoong watched them force her up onto a step while his mother withdrew a long, curved knife. She began speaking in Latin, a language Hongjoong never bothered to learn, but context told him everything.

“They’re not…” you whispered to him, “They’re not going to-to kill her?”

“That’s exactly what they’re going to do.”

“Stop! Please! Someone help me!” the woman shrieked, tears streaming down her cheeks as the witches held her over the cauldron.

The steam and smell made her turn her head, but one of them forced her to face forward. Her terror did not last long. In the last few words, Youngmi put the blade across the girl’s long neck. You turned away right as blood shot out of the wound and into the cauldron. He held you close, your scent overpowering the stench around him.

“Now,” his mother said, “The cambion!”

“Let me go, you bitches!”

A man this time. No doubt they lured him with their disguised beauty. Like with the woman, they held him over the cauldron as his mother said the second verse. A bit stronger, he managed to break free of their hold, but only for a moment. Slamming his head onto the cauldron’s rim, Youngmi took the chance to slit his throat as well. The potion glowed a deep scarlet color, which will only get darker with his blood added.

“You stay here,” he told you gently.

“No, Hongjoong,” you pleaded, “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you, kissing your forehead.

“And finally, my daughters, the blood of a demon!”

One witch tried grabbing him, but he shrugged her off. Hongjoong really wanted to know how a demon gets banned from the living world, and why she didn’t find another. Climbing the steps, he took his mother’s knife and stood next to the cauldron. Six-year-old Hongjoong screamed, cried and begged his mother not to do it. He’d never felt such terror before. But, two-hundred-and-sixty-nine year old Hongjoong knew better now. While his mother and her followers chanted the last stanza of the incantation, he quickly slid the blade along his injured finger to reopen it. The witch across him hissed as her own finger split open. When the first few drops fell into the potion, the smoke billowed thick with the scent of blood. He coughed as it entered his lungs and plugged up his nose. He squeezed his blood into it, then stepped back from the cauldron.

His mother waved her hands around the pot, finishing off the spell while he came back to you. Mingi offered him a handkerchief for his finger, but he only had eyes for you. He saw the terror in your eyes, though you did your best not to show it. You kept yourself from staring at any witch for too long; he saw you already figuring out an escape route as he saw your midsection and shoulders thicken. Daughters of Eden didn’t particularly need metal armor, even if the guards wore it.

“Hey,” he cupped your cheek with his clean hand, “Don’t be scared.”

"Are you serious right now?”

“Okay, yeah I know, but we’re going home,” he assured you. “They won’t hurt you with me around.”

“Drink, my daughters! Come and drink! Receive your blessings!”

Witches flocked to the platform, taking out cups from their cloaks. Hongjoong held you to his chest, about to turn you around to go home when another voice rang out.

“Ladies! How lovely to see you all here!”

A man in a long coat with a vest and ruffled shirt came out of the shadows. Black curls hung around his face and over his red eyes. People told him that his brothers all looked like Asmodeus in one way or another. Seonghwa had his long curls; San had his golden brown skin, and Hongjoong had his narrow nose. The witches all turned at his voice, delighted by the sight of their master, and bowed to him at once. It was only Youngmi who glared at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, ladling potion into a witch’s cup.

“I was told you’d kidnapped my son,” Asmodeus said, walking further into the clearing. He stared around the semi-circle overlooking the cliffs. “This is a great meeting place,” he whistled his approval. “I think we’ll have our next black mass in these woods. They’re remote, old, and there’s plenty of camping space around here.”

“Get out,” Youngmi hissed.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” his father groaned. “I didn’t come here for any of you, even though…” he walked over to the twins, touching each of their long chins as they sighed dreamily, “I wouldn’t mind partaking while I’m here. How’re my favorite twins doing?”

“Do you have to ruin everything, Asmodeus?” she snapped.

“Hey, you’re the one that took my boy for this strange ritual of yours,” he quipped. He turned from the twins to see Hongjoong nearby. “There you are, Joongie!” he walked over to him, and they clasped hands before hugging. “There’s my handsome boy,” he patted Hongjoong’s back, smiling warmly. He spotted Hongjoong’s bleeding finger, “It doesn’t hurt, right?”

“It hurt someone, just not me,” he replied, which amused his father.

“Good boy, good boy.” His eyes landed on you, and the flirtation turned on again. “Hello there,” he said, drawing closer to you, “Aren’t you a lovely one? Are you new? I don’t see any rot in you at all.” He caressed your cheek, but you moved away. This only made the demon prince chuckle, “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I don’t bite…unless you ask me to.”

“She’s with me, Dad,” Hongjoong got in between you both, “And she’s your great niece.”

Clarity came to him right away, “She’s Andromeda’s girl? Well, how nice to finally meet you. Your grandmother didn’t shut up about you when I visited yesterday. You really are a beauty,” he moved around Hongjoong towards you. “You should come visit my mansion sometime. I can show you a few tricks of my own.”

“What’s up, Dad?” he stood in front of you again. He knew with enough eye-contact and persuasion, you’d become putty in his father’s hands. “I thought you’d be at the keep.”

“I was, and your brothers told me you’d be here. Listen, son,” he fixed his coat as he said, “I’m having a gathering at my place this weekend.”

“For what?”

He glimpsed over at you as he said, “The Passionate Heart Ball.” He walked around Hongjoong again to you, “It’s an important celebration to us demons of lust, you see. It happens at the first full moon of spring. It’s when our powers are the strongest,” he played with the end of a stray hair, “Where our seed is most potent and we become…truly primal. You could ask your mates all about it: there’s lots of wine, food and fucking going on there.”

“That sounds…interesting, I guess.”

“You’re in Hell, darling. There’s no way you’ve never had a cock before,” he said, voice low with lust. “Not if you’ve been hanging around my boys. Oh…” he exhaled deeply, “I bet your orgasms sound sweet. I’d love to hear them myself-”

“-Seriously, Dad?” Hongjoong interrupted. “We’ll go to the damn ball. You know where to send the details.”

“Don’t be greedy, boy,” he said over his shoulder. “You get to fuck this one whenever you like. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“That’s right.” 

Hongjoong froze. Your voice, breathy and low, told him everything he needed to know.

“How about we ditch this place and go somewhere more private, hm?” his father’s hands traced your shoulder up to your collar, “Where I can see just how beautiful girls from Eden are.”

“I don’t think you want to do that, Uncle,” you said, your own voice flirty and sultry. “I’ve been told my kisses alone can be pretty dangerous.”

“Is that right?” he leaned in closer.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Your sons can go for hours with a kiss or two from me.”

“Ha, I don’t need a kiss to do that,” he said. “I’m lust personified, honey. I can fuck pretty things like you for days.”

“Days? That’s excessive, no?”

“Excess is what I love. Just like how much I love gorgeous women with gorgeous tits.”

“Dad!” Hongjoong felt anger flare in his chest, and he pulled you away from him. “Come on, seriously? My mate?”

“Mate?”

“No harm in a little romp,” his father reasoned, hands in the air. “She must be special if even my Hongjoong doesn’t want to share her with me. How many of these did we take together during mass? Ten? Eleven?”

“I lost count after six, if I’m honest.”

His father laughed, distracted by the joke. He rung an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders, “Bring her to the ball.”

“She’s not a lust demon.”

“I don’t care. Your other siblings will be bringing their pleasure slaves and mates. She can be your plus-one.” He looked back over at you, “Wear something easy to take off. You won’t be clothed very long.”

You smiled shyly, turning away at his forwardness. Hongjoong scowled at his father, who gave you a wink. “See you at the ball, son.”

He gave another hug before walking over to a group of witches. Hongjoong scoffed his disgust, moving towards you. “Let’s get out of here before he starts a full blown orgy,” Hongjoong said, but then he saw your expression. Intrigue filled your pretty eyes, scanning over his father’s athletic, slim body. “Really, babe? My dad? Your great uncle?”

“What?” you groaned, “He’s hot. Sorry I’m not made of stone. You don’t mind the incest when it’s us and your brothers.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“We actually love you, whereas my dad will pound into you for a few hours and then forget your name.”

“If you love me,” you put the handkerchief to his bleeding hand, “Why won’t you tell me what’s really bugging you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Then help me understand,” you said.

He saw witches who’d drunk their potion moving over to his father. The man truly slept with anyone or anything. It disgusted him, and he liked most things. Hongjoong didn’t speak as he took you away from the frivolity into the forest. Out of their notice, he guided you to a spot where the moonlight still shone on you. If anything made him feel better, it’d be a few minutes alone with you. 

“Aren’t we going back to that portal thing?” you asked him, worry in your voice.

“Not right now,” he said.

“Where’s Mingi?”

“Probably still in the clearing. If he’s lucky, one of them turned into a hot girl for him to plug up for a while.”

“Do you always have to be so obscene?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Through a thicket of trees, Hongjoong brought you out of range of the clearing. He leaned against one of the trees, withdrawing his flask to take another swig. The cool breeze went across his hot cheeks to fill his lungs with fresh air. You stood beside him, where you took his flask and drank some yourself.

“There’s days…” he explained, “There’s days where I get this hollow feeling.”

“Hollow?”

“Empty. I can’t enjoy or experience anything because this emptiness sits inside me and takes up space,” he said. “I feel weighed down. I feel useless and unhappy. I start remembering things, and it only makes it worse,” he took the flask back from you and gulped some down. He let you have the last bit of it as he said, “I force myself to do things because I have to, but all I really want to do is stay in bed and let it swallow me whole.”

“I wouldn’t really know anything about that,” you told him, finishing the flask. “It sounds shitty.”

“It is. I normally take this elixir Yunho makes,” he said, “But he hasn’t had the ingredients for it so I’ve sort of been managing without it.”

“And self-medicating,” you added.

“That too.”

“Then coming here must’ve really been rough for you. Your mother is a real piece of work.”

“You don’t even know half of it.”

“You know you have me,” you told him, taking his injured hand. His finger healed up well, so the only thing you did was wipe off the caked blood. “I might not be able to make potions or anything like that to help, but I’m here if you need someone to stay in bed with you.”

“It’s what I wanted to do,” he said, “But then this happened. Now, my dad is here too? I wish I had more whiskey.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem as bad. He’s definitely better than mine.”

“He’s the lesser of two evils for sure.”

“He can’t be all that bad. My dad never invited me to orgies before.” 

The both of you shared a glance in the dark, the red moon giving just enough light to see your face. He could hear the orgy beginning right on the other side of the bushes. Your beauty astounded him every time. If anything distracted him from his hollowness, it’d be you and your smile.

“A lot of people have shitty parents,” you said, hands sliding onto his chest. “My dad was a mean sonofabitch who liked hitting women and drinking. My mom tells me it’s because of the war-”

“-Your dad was a veteran?-”

“-Yeah, WW2,” you nodded. “He didn’t talk about it, but when I think about him now, I sort of see it. There'd been times that he seemed  there but not there? He sat there physically, but mentally he went somewhere else. My mom told me he became this empty shell when he returned home,” you said. “Is that kind of the same for you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “When I was a kid, I didn’t have Seonghwa’s aristocratic upbringing. I lived in a village with an old witch who’d rather eat me than hug me, and I was left alone a lot.” He let his thumb trace over the necklace you wore today. An opal inlaid with stones, it stood out against your sweater. “I committed crimes. I drank a lot. I went to prison a few times, and that wasn’t exactly a holiday in the Bahamas.” 

“You went to prison? How old were you?”

“Eight. Things have drastically changed since then, obviously,” he said. “They didn’t have juvenile prisons back then. You either went to big boy jail or a reform school; both are equally horrible. The only good thing I got out of it was I sort of honed my skills there? I learned I had transference, so whenever an overseer or officer beat me, it hurt them more. They couldn’t explain it. I think it sort of scared them?” Hongjoong didn’t like thinking about the cruel guards and their unusual punishments. “Things only changed when Seonghwa came. I’d killed the witch I lived with and he came to get me. There I had to be a proper gentleman. I had to go to boring lessons where they taught me how to read and write; they dressed me in fancy clothing with too many layers and taught me how to dance and table etiquette. I hated it. It wasn’t me. When I finally came down here, it was a whole new thing. I could be me and nobody could say anything. I didn’t think my hollowness would find me down here, but it did. It did…”

“Which sounds awful,” you said, kissing his lips. The faint sounds of moaning and groaning caught both of you, and you glanced through the bushes. “I can imagine having a dad like that didn’t make things easy.”

“He’s meant to be a demon who can read people’s emotions, but he seemed to never read mine,” he sighed, seeing his dad kissing the siamese twins. “He might not be Dad of the Year, but he still showed more interest in me than he did my brothers.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m the ‘Handsome One’.”

You laughed, “Really?”

He pinched your arm lightly, “What do you mean ‘really’?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you assured him. “All three of you are handsome. Why does he have a favorite?”

“I’m the most like him, Seonghwa told me once. San is more into athletics and fighting. Seonghwa likes his books, poetry and philosophy. I was the one who liked having weekend orgies, flirting with anything that looked good, and indulged in his interests,” he shrugged. “To him, I’m the attractive brother. At the mass, I was the one he kept inviting to his tent for his private parties. I don’t know if you noticed, but rather than wait for me to come home, he came here.”

“And yet, he can’t tell that something is bothering his favorite son?”

“Nope.”

He turned to see his father tilting his head back as the twins worked him. Witches all around him paired up to engage in their own desires. He noticed his mother mysteriously disappeared. “He’s usually too busy with his own things to notice anything outside of himself.”

“I notice,” you said, and he heard the drop in your voice. “There really isn’t anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He inhaled deep when your hand slid down to his belt buckle. His hands went up your sides where he felt your supple flesh once more. You brought him in for a kiss, and Hongjoong didn’t protest when your tongue tenderly passed his lips. That heady endorphin your kiss brought hit him almost immediately. He pulled your sweater out from under your skirt, and slipped his hands underneath. Your fingers delicately danced over his torso, sliding over the flatness to his chest. Hongjoong gasped softly when your thumbs brushed his nipples. He unclipped your bra, which took your passion up a notch. Leaning against the thick tree trunk, he lifted one leg to his waist to pull your sex to his own.

“No panties,” he groaned between kisses, “Again, pet?”

“I stopped seeing the point,” you giggled, pecking his lips. “You know I love being fucked just as much as you love fucking me.”

He lifted the back of your skirt to grope the soft cheeks that filled his hands. Not a stitch of clothing kept Hongjoong from spreading and squeezing them. He lost himself in you. Your body pressed to his brought on a new feeling that overpowered the hollowness. It took up space in him that made him forget everything that happened. All he wanted was you. The clinking of his belt buckle alone accelerated his arousal, causing him to push you into his bulge more. He could have you just like this, right there in the light of a blood moon. There, he'd have his own special ritual. 

His lips broke from yours to groan when you reached into his jeans. Your hand, cold from the climate, shocked his hot muscle. The coolness against the heat had him moving into your hand for more. You glided your hand as he continued kissing down your neck and grabbing your ass. Every sensation he hoped to grab reached him the longer you stroked him. Once he grew hard enough, you pulled him from his boxers to keep rubbing him. This let him lift your shirt and bra over your breasts so he could suck the hard nipples underneath. One hand massaging them, the other reached between your thighs to your slick sex. Your wet clitoris jutted from your folds as if asking to be touched by him; your folds already puffy and wet on his fingers, he had no trouble sliding to your entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered in a kiss, “Please.”

“As long as you don’t.”

Spinning you around, Hongjoong nearly slammed you into the tree as he kept one leg at his hip. Your eyes closed with one swift push into your heat; the penetration bringing relief to both of you. His hands under your thighs, your arms went around his neck to help keep yourself stable in his grasp. Once inside you, Hongjoong didn’t stop. Lips attached to yours again, he kept a steady stride in each thrust. Even with the burning in his arms and legs, Hongjoong chased after the desperation for release. Putting a hand to your throat, he gently squeezed as he pinned you to the tree and picked up the pace. His balls slapped against your soft ass cheeks; his cock pushed deep through your bumpy walls, their taut squeezes driving him insane. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said through gritted teeth, strained by his hand on your neck. “Fuck me, Master. Please, fuck me. Use my pussy to cum.”

“I plan to,” he grunted, tucking your skirt into the waistband for glimpses of your full sex. “Just a pretty hole for me to use whenever I want,” he said, watching himself slide in and out of you. “Are these mine?” he asked in a groan, pumping you faster. “Are your holes mine?”

“Yes,” you whined, “Yes, Master. They’re yours.”

You cried when he withdrew, panting as he turned you to face the tree. He forced you into an arch, then shoved himself back into your heat. The smacking of his lower stomach to your ass joined the lewd sounds it created. He watched your fingers dig into the thick tree bark, smiling as you moaned up into the heavens for him. Keeping one hand on your shoulder, he pinned you to the tree as he slapped your ass cheeks. The harsh smacks must be heard even through the bundle of trees and bushes between you two and the clearing. He loved the way you yelped if he smacked particularly hard or in the right place; how your ass bounced as your need for release grew. Hongjoong made deep thrusts that he swore reached right into your stomach and arranged your insides. 

“Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

Hongjoong might’ve jumped at his father’s appearance had he not been overcome with your drug. Asmodeus stood a few feet away with the humpback and the horned witch naked and rubbing up and down his body. Hongjoong leaned forward and grabbed your breasts, still pushing and pounding you hard. He heard his father’s low groans, suspecting one witch started filling her mouth with him. Hongjoong turned you sideways, lifted your other leg up and gave him a view of your cunt wrapped around his wet cock. 

“Oooh, that’s a nice one,” his father groaned, eyeing where you both met. 

“So nice,” he huffed, “And it’s all mine.”

“Yes, it is,” you giggled, hand around the nape of his neck as you stayed completely still. He felt your nails dig into his flesh, the slight pain pushing him further. “All yours.”

Hongjoong pulled out a moment, tapping and sliding himself on your clit. “I can never get enough of this,” he said, loving the sloppy sounds the touch made. “I end up fucking her until I’m empty.”

“As you should with a beauty like that.”

Pushing back in, he lifted your sweater over your breasts more to see them bounce as he fucked you. “And I love emptying you,” you breathed, moving from your position to squat down on the floor, “Especially if you do it in my mouth.”

Hand in your hair, Hongjoong forced himself into your open mouth. You held onto the trunk while he started pushing to your face. He loved your mouth as much as the other holes. Your mouth sucking his tip and shaft the right amount of firmness had Hongjoong trembling in place in minutes. Blinding passion shut his eyes the moment his body stiffened in his clothes. Every suck suddenly became sensitive as he started squirting into your mouth. You elevated it by sliding him to the back of your throat to let him shoot further down. In the faint light, he saw his cum dripping from the sides of your mouth to your chin. When he pulled out, still hard and pulsing, he saw the few strings keeping you connected. 

“I’m not empty,” he said, slapping his leaking head on your tongue. “I think you need to fix that or otherwise my dad will think you’re not serving me well. You don’t want the Prince of Lust thinking you’re not making his son happy, right?”

“Of course not,” you replied, stroking him slowly as you licked down to his balls. “I’d hate to leave a bad impression, Master.”

“Ass in the air,” he said, grinding his balls to your mouth for gentle sucks from your lips. 

You assumed the position in the dirt, ass up towards him to give him complete control of you. Hands hooked to your skirt’s waistband, he forced you down onto his still hard cock, and used it to guide you along his length. 

“Fuck me,” he ordered, smacking your ass. “I’m the master. I’m not doing the work. Fuck me, slut.”

While his father began fingering the horned witch as the other pushed her sex to his crotch, Hongjoong and you fucked on the ground. His father had no idea the effect your saliva had on people. Perhaps even he would regret inviting you once he’s had a taste of you. You kept the same speed until you began shaking and throbbing on him. Hongjoong knelt there and watched you completely spiral in front of him. He didn’t care if his father saw it. Your pussy creaming and coating his dick caused the muscle to vibrate inside you, as he’d done that first night with you. A gift he inherited from his father. This heightened your orgasm, and you became needier. 

“Keep going,” you whined, your climax subsiding. “Please, Master. Please?”

“I suppose I can.”

And there you continued. The hollowness disappeared the more times he came inside or on you. Clothes and bodies soon smeared with dirt and leaves, muscles tense and shaking each time, Hongjoong let himself be taken over by you. By the time the drug wore off, you both laid on the ground in a messy heap. He left soft kisses on your jawline and neck, his entire body like a puddle of jello. While you drifted to sleep on the floor, he stayed there and looked at you as the sun rose up. 

“She is quite something,” his father said. Both witches laid their heads on his bare thighs, nude and sweaty from pleasuring their master. He leaned against the tree, pushing hair from his face. “I’d hoped to have my turn, but I suppose she’s all spent now.”

“You’ll have her one day, I have no doubt, Dad,” he replied, not looking at him. He smiled softly when you sniffled in your sleep. 

“It’s nice to see you have a girl that makes you smile.” When Hongjoong looked up at him, he said, “I was an angel once, son. I can sense the good and the evil in people. That means I can see their happiness as well as their sadness. I don’t know anything about all this new mental health stuff, but…I know, Hongjoong. I know.” 

From his pant’s pocket on the floor, he withdrew a small pouch and tossed it to him. Hongjoong opened it to see a bundle of mint leaves inside. 

“Give that to your butler,” he said, starting to shut his eyes. “You are not the only one who feels hollow.” 

Neither of them spoke, but Hongjoong nodded his appreciation. He rested beside you, arms around your waist and face close to yours. 

Yes, he certainly preferred his father over his mother. 

***

A/N: aww, the "handsome one" really has some parental issues. I hope you guys really liked this one, I have San's coming soon after <3

[tumbleweed-run]

A Cure for Boredom

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober day 3: boot worship

Gale was busy, again. Somehow, when moving in with him you hadn’t considered just how busy an archmage, even one who was ‘uninventing himself,’ actually was. He was still regularly researching lost relics, found tomes, etc. He’d gotten much better since the first few months where he’d regularly forgotten you existed, but he still had work nearly every day. 

You realized his income came from the work he did for Blackstaff and since you had none to speak of, it was best this way. Your portion of the gold from saving Faerun wouldn’t last forever.

Except you were often terribly and incurably bored. 

Well, that wasn’t fair to Gale or yourself. There was plenty to do around Waterdeep, places to explore, and friends (and enemies) you were making. But what you wanted right now and often was Gale’s undivided attention.

That was probably an unhealthy desire, one best left to be examined another day.

Gale was translating something. Or perhaps annotating it. Unfortunately for you, he was well within his working hours, the sun had barely hit midday. Briefly, you considered sitting on his lap but realized that would definitely fall in the ‘hampering’ category of things you could be doing. 

Just because you knew you shouldn’t didn’t mean you couldn’t pout about it. 

You entertained yourself for the moment by eyeing him through a large mirror in the room. You were almost certain it hadn’t been there when you arrived, but mirrors often had a way of popping up in rooms lately. You were certain that was something. 

You’re eyes focused in on the way his hand flexed against his knee, absentmindedly, as he wrote. You wanted to feel that in your hair. 

A desire came to you unbidden and you flushed at the shameful half-formed thoughts whirling about. 

It wouldn’t be shameful you argued with yourself. Not degrading either, for it to be degrading Gale would have to view you that way. Gale had never and would never view you in any light other than the best, of that you knew more certainly than the fact you would wake tomorrow. 

It warred in your mind, this idea. A low heat burning in your belly as it consumed your thoughts. 

Then he shifted, leg outstretching like a beckoning, and any sense of self-control you might have had a moment ago, snapped. 

He paid you no mind when you made your way towards him. You felt like you were walking underwater, or perhaps more apt would be under thrall. And when you sunk down to your knees before the desk, he made no sound or movement to indicate he noticed. 

It was so easy to pull up your skirt. 

You’d taken to wearing them since moving to Waterdeep, the soft fabrics and silly touches like lace were such a stark contrast to the armor and blood you wore for months trying to save your lives. You deserved these sweet things you told yourself regularly. You were not now what you had been then. 

It was even easier to slide forward under the desk. This is where you should have backed out or simply untucked Gale from his pants to make an excuse for why you’d secreted yourself below his desk. 

Instead, you closed the gap between you and him. Slipping the thin coverage of your smalls to the side, you let your legs slide outward from you as you lowered yourself onto his boot. The cool touch of leather to your overheated cunt was like a shock through you. You bit down on your lip to stifle a whimper. 

Then, without any input from your brain, your body began to rock ever so slightly against the toe of his boot. 

You buried your face against the side of his knee. 

It felt good. Not just the physical sensation each time you ground your aching clit against the cool leather of his boots. But also the not-quite-shame, and the almost-embarrassment you felt doing this. 

You had just enough shreds of your mind left for you to wonder if Gale was truly that deeply absorbed in his work he hadn’t noticed. 

Your lip was near bleeding now as your rocking grew bolder. It wasn't enough to completely muffle your moans each time you made contact. It wouldn’t be enough, not like this, you knew that, but for now, it was perfect. 

Gale’s free hand threaded through your hair and at that exact moment he tilted his foot upward so the toe was a bit easier for you to access with your body. The whimper that ripped from you, as you realized what he was doing, echoed around you in the space below the desk. 

A flush spread across your whole body, heat rolling from you. Your hips began seeking friction in earnest, hands winding themselves around his calf. Head still pressed against the side of his knee. Eyes screwed shut against the world. The wetness from your cunt made each grind against his boot smoother, more comfortable for you.

Gods you were fucking yourself on his boot like a whore, you realized. So ready to make a spectacle of yourself you would take even what was offered. But no matter how you realized those thoughts should shame you they didn’t. Instead, they only flamed the fire coiling deep in your belly. 

You were so close now. 

You felt his hand shifting, stroking your hair you realized. And when you focused past the sounds of your own heartbeat you could hear him whispering to you. 

“My sweet girl,” he said as he gently began rolling his foot in time to your thrusts. “My beautiful, perfect, love.”

There were tears stinging in your eyes even though you were sure why. You ignored them. 

“My good girl,” his tone was just a bit louder than it had been, making sure you heard it. 

“Gale,” you cried as you came, hips chasing your release with abandonment. You felt little but his fingers in your hair as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you. 

Little by little you stilled until you were aware you were still whimpering with each roll of your hips. 

You didn’t want to leave this space, where everything was quiet and calm. You didn’t want to emerge from this place under Gale’s desk to face the embarrassment of what you’d just done. Of what he’d just encouraged you to do. 

“There will be none of that,” Gale spoke firmly above you. 

His hand disentangled from your hair and you mourned the contact for only a moment before he was pulling you up with both hands. You were reluctant to look at him still but allowed yourself to be pulled into his lap. You could feel his was hard beneath you but showed no interest in tending to himself or getting you to do it.  

You hid your face away in his neck and he allowed you to. Instead of confronting you he pulled you as close to him as he could, fingers rubbing soothing circles against your thigh. With his other hand he picked up his quill and somehow began writing, occasionally taking the time to press kisses to the top of your head. 

The rhythmic scratching of the quill tip allowed you to lull back into your peace. Warm and safe against Gale. Floating back and forth between the here and now and the quiet black. 

[vodika-vibes]

Hey! I know he's a bit of a rare clone, but would you consider writing for maze? he's from the repcomm books and is endearingly (Imo) professional and surly 👉👈

Not That Hard

Summary: When one story ends, another one begins. Maze, formerly a Republic Soldier, is now a bounty hunter. He’s used to things being orderly, everything has a place, and everything should be in its place. So when he ends up locked in a small cell with the woman he’s been searching for, a woman who’s been missing for three weeks, he knows that everything is about to be turned on its head.

Pairing: Pre Maze (Alpha-26) x F!Reader

Word Count: 1722

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I've never written Maze before, but I'm always happy to write any of the Alphas, or any star wars character. His page on Wookieepedia wasn't the best, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it! Also, I've been watching a lot of Numb3rs, so that's where the basic idea of this came from.

Maze leans back against the stone wall, his gaze drifting from the woman sleeping on the singular cot in the cell to the door, and then back again. He’s glad that she’s asleep. He wasn’t sure that she would fall asleep, honestly.

He leans over and tugs the thin blanket a little higher over her shoulders. The blanket won’t do much to keep the cold out, it’s too thin, but it’s enough that she can sleep.

Three weeks ago the University of Theeds reached out to him, telling him that one of their Teachers had gone missing. They said to him that someone had broken into her home, torn the place to pieces, and taken her.

The University hired him to find her since he was something of an expert on finding people.

The fact that she’s alive is a damned miracle, in his opinion. After three weeks, statistics indicate that he should have found her in a ditch somewhere.

He’s never been so glad to be wrong in his life.

Still, the fact that they haven’t killed her suggests that they want something from her. Maze shifts so that he’s sitting on the cot beside her, tired of sitting on the ground.

He needs to think.

Why would someone want a University Professor?

Absently, Maze brushes a strand of hair off her face as he thinks about what he knows about her.

She’s young, barely brushing 25 years old. She’s an only child. Her mom died from heart disease when she was a child, her dad recently retired to a lake house. There’s no other family.

She’s single, and her only friends are people who work at the University with her. Honestly, it sounds like a lonely life to him, but according to her colleagues and friends, she’s seemed lonely or unhappy.

He can respect that.

Maze’s eyes snap to her face as she releases a quiet noise and shifts on the cot, seemingly to curl into his warmth while also opening her eyes. “You should go back to sleep, Professor. It’s early.” He says quietly.

She sighs and shakes her head, “No point. They’re going to be coming soon.” Slowly, she sits up and shifts so she’s able to press her face against his shoulder. 

“What do they want?” Maze asks, mentally kicking himself for not asking her earlier. But then, her injuries were pretty severe. It makes sense that he would put that aside.

“I’m a Bio-Engineer.” She replies tiredly, “They want me to tell them how to break into BioGen.”

“Why?”

“BioGen’s biggest thing is weaponizing viruses.”

Maze stiffens and his gaze snaps to her face, “BioWeapons are illegal. Even in the Empire.”

“They weaponize them so that they can try and develop cures for them. It’s all legal and above board.” She reassures, “Even in the Empire.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“A Tenured Professorship at the University of Theeds is a great honor, not to mention it pays very well.” She replies, “It made sense, career-wise.”

“Only there’s a lot less security at the University compared to a Biomedical facility.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, there is that.” She shifts her head slightly, “But this has never happened before. Ever. People leave BioGen all of the time.”

“And you’re the first one kidnapped?”

“That I know of.”

There are heavy footsteps from the hall and Maze shifts so that his body is shielding hers. The door slams open and three men step into the room.

They’re not big men, if Maze were to stand, he’d tower over them. It burns him up that he allowed men like them to capture him so he would be able to find the professor. 

“Professor,” One of the men stalks towards Maze, and he feels her shrink down behind him, “Come on, girl. Are we really going to do this? All you gotta do is give us the information, and then you’ll both go free.”

“Don’t lie. We all know that the moment she tells you what you want to know, you’ll kill her.” Maze growls out.

The man laughs, “Well, it’ll be a quick death, rather than this slow, dragged-out death.”

Behind him, the Professor trembles. 

“Is this all of you? Just three men?”

“We still caught you, clone.” One of the other men sneers, “Grab the Professor—”

The first man reaches to grab the Professor, only for Maze to move, swiftly breaking the man’s arm, and slamming his head against the wall, causing him to crumple to the floor.

“Get low, Professor.” Maze orders as he stands and advances on the two remaining men. He doesn’t wait to see if she’s following his direction, as he suddenly has two furious men to contend with.

Unfortunately for them, he’s an Alpha Class clone, and they’re unarmed.

The fight can’t even be called a proper fight. The two remaining kidnappers go down with several well-placed hits, and Maze tosses them into the cell while motioning for the Professor to join him.

“We’re leaving,” Maze says to the woman as he holds his hand out for her.

Nervously she nods and takes his hand, “Where are we going?”

“Well, it was the University who hired me.” Maze replies as he peeks into the hall, and then leads her out of the cell as soon as he notes that it’s safe.

“Um—”

Maze stops and looks at her, “What’s wrong?”

“Just…did they seem smart enough to come up with this on their own?”

Maze stares at her for a long time, and then he sighs, “No. They didn’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Alright, there must be something here to indicate who hired them. Follow me.”

Maze leads abruptly turns down a side hallway and leads her into a much larger room. There are computers, though they seem largely untouched. It looks like the kidnappers were more concerned with the games that were playing on the four holos lined up next to each other than the computers.

There are three couches, each other them surrounded by empty bottles and empty pizza boxes. 

“Well,” Maze notes as he steps around a pile of trash, “Criminal Genuises they are not.”

The Professor peers at a holo-board next to the couches, “It looks like they have a gambling problem.”

“Lucky for us. It means they probably didn’t delete anything.” Maze walks over to the computers, “Stay close, Professor.”

“Ah…Sorry.” She hurries to his side and peeks around him at the monitors.

Maze flashes a small smile at her and then focuses on the computers. “Hey, Professor?”

“Yes?”

“How’d they grab you?”

“I was heading home from a day of classes, and they ran me off the road.” She replies.

“You were driving yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“Does anyone know your route home?”

“I mean, there’s only one road off of the main campus,” She replies, “But I generally don’t know what route I’m taking home until I get in the car. It depends on the traffic and if I need to go grocery shopping.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone your plans for the evening when you were taken?” Maze asks as he scans something on the screen.

“No. No one.”

“It looks like our violent friends were hired by Levi Kelley. At least, that’s who paid them.”

“Levi Kelley?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s the head of the Biology Department at the University. I thought you said the University hired you?”

“Yeah, the Dean hired me. This Levi person, is he your supervisor?”

“No. I mean, he thinks that he is, but we’re on the same level.”

“Are you friends?”

“I’ve always been a bit…ambivalent towards him. He’s a good teacher, but he’s kind of a terrible person. Racist, sexist, the whole shebang.” 

“And he works at a University?”

“He’s a very good teacher. But he lost his tenure last year.”

“For what?”

“Academic misconduct, according to the rumors.” She leans against his side, exhausted, “The only person who knows the truth would be the Dean.”

“So it’s revenge.” Maze murmurs, “Use you to get an incurable virus, and release it on the school. Did you tell them anything?”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“They tortured you, Professor. No one would blame you if you did.”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t. I left Biogen two years ago, Maze. I don’t remember any passwords or door codes. And they removed my biometrics from their system on my last day. I swear it.”

“Okay.” Maze lightly pushes some of her hair out of her face, “So they need someone else, a current employee.”

“Yeah, it’s the only way to get inside.”

“Alright. Let’s get out of here and alert the authorities. And get you some medical attention.”

“Yes please.”

Maze lightly presses his hand against the small of her back, guiding her towards the door, “I have one more question, Professor.”

“Go ahead?”

“When my brothers and I were decanted, we were given enhanced aging.”

“Yes, it was the only way for the Kaminoans to get a viable army in 10 years.” She replies.

“Yeah, you think you can reverse it?”

“Reverse it?” She repeats, sounding more thoughtful than surprised. Maze watches as she absently scratches at a deep gash on her cheek, “I don’t know about reversing it,” She finally says, “but I might be able to cure it. With enough blood samples.”

“Really?”

“Well sure, it’s not that hard. It’s just gene manipulation.” She frowns at him thoughtfully, “Look, all the information I need is here,” she lightly taps his chest, “The more of your brothers I can get blood samples from, the easier it’ll be to make a cure.”

“Can you do it at the University while also teaching?”

“I mean, sure. But the University of Theeds is funded by the Emperor. I’m guessing you don’t want the Empire to know about it.”

“No, I don’t.” Maze replies.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Find me a place to work, off of Naboo, and I can help you.”

“If you can cure this, I might just kiss you,” Maze says with a sly smile.

Her face heats and she won’t look at him, “Well, that seems a bit excessive,” She mumbles.

She squeaks when he lightly drapes his arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “No. It isn’t. Come on, Professor. Let’s get you safe.”

[aneveningsword]

Hi! Tw: sh. Would you be willing to write a Jordan li x fem reader one shot where they bicker a lot (maybe like academic rivals or something) but then Jordan some how finds out that reader self harms (maybe like sees some cuts when a sleeve moves or something if they’re sparring or during class?) and so they put their bickering and rivalry aside to make sure that she gets help? If not no worries but I thought I’d ask/put it out into the universe

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request, I'm so excited to fulfil it. I hope it's up to standard and what you are looking for

pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader warnings: not proofread, mentions of self-harm words: 909 summary: basically the ask

masterlist

It was well known within Goldukin that the two biggest rivals were you and Jordan Li. You two had been neck and neck from the beginning, always switching places in the ranking, always trying to one-up another in classes. It was getting exhausting just watching you two go back and forth trying to outsmart the other while half the people around you had no clue what you were talking about.

Jordan was always one to bicker, correcting you with that stupid smug grin, showing off their test scores with a mocking pout. It was infuriating, but just as much as they annoyed you, you annoyed them. How you seemed to effortlessly know everything, how you had such control of your powers, how you so easily gave their snarky words right back at them. You took up so much space in their mind that the only way not to admit it was love was to believe it was hate.

Hate because you were seemingly everything they were not. You were so put together, you had it all brains and beauty. Only a fool would not be jealous of you, and Jordan Li was no fool. In their mind, they believed that you too hated them, for being such a large obstacle on your path to the top. But even someone so smart could be so wrong.

It was hard trying to be the best, to get perfect scores, to have such control over your powers, to be liked by so many. It consumed every moment, not even in sleep could you escape the stress. Your body began to feel it, losing hair, bags under your eyes, losing sleep. It made you feel horrible, a shell of yourself, an imposter parading around people much better than you. There was no time to rest, no time for a moment to consider your mental health, not when a single mishap could spell you losing it all.

Despite the stress of your life, the stress Jordan added to it unknowingly. You held deep feelings for them, feelings you did not want to classify as love, so instead you believed it to be disdain. There was no room in your life for love, for friends, for parties, for every waking moment was spent obsessing about your scores.

You can’t remember when it started, perhaps by accident, perhaps on purpose in a desperate attempt to find a release. But you remember when you couldn’t stop, not when it allowed the stress and heartache to leave you for a moment. It was like a drug, consuming your mind and body, a compulsion to do it, to harm yourself. It was a disease that you didn’t have a cure for.

Hiding this was something you had to fine art, you hand various jackets, gloves, long sleeve shirts to wear. No one bated the eyes at what you wore, why would they? It was all perfectly normal, there was no reason to think you were hiding the thing you were most ashamed of under a thin piece of cloth. 

It was by complete accident that Jordan saw the scars, the movement of your hand reaching up to grab something exposing them just enough for them to figure out what they were. For a moment they did not wish to believe it, that someone so put together like you was secretly falling apart. That the scars they saw weren’t from a cat or botched training session. But instead done purposely by your hand, that you would subject yourself to that pain. Was it because you believed you deserved it? Was it a release of sorts? A way to escape the pressure?

Their hand was so gentle as it grasped your wrist, eyes big and full of worry as your own met theirs. Just as confusion was clear on your face, sorrow was clear on theirs. You racked your brain trying to figure out what may cause this large shift in Jordan, no longer bickering or scoffing at you but instead looking at you like you had destroyed a beautiful artwork. In a small way you did, for to them, you were the closest thing they had come to an angle. They believed you were untouchable, above it all. But even angels fall sometimes.

There was a long moment of pause as Jordan struggled to find the right words to say, and how to approach the topic. Yet, there was only one question they could think of asking. “Why? Why would you do this to yourself?” Their voice was soft, body close to yours as their hand still delicately held your wrist. For a moment you are confused by the question before you pale and a sense of dread fills you. You could deny it, swear up and down that they are mistaken. But what was the point? The evidence was there and Jordan knew.

“I-I…” Your voice turns watery as you think of an answer, just something to say in your defence. But tears spring to your eyes, yet to fall and trail down your cheeks. A small ‘tsk’ leaves Jordan as they pull you into an embrace. Your hands grip their clothing as though they would disappear and Jordan wonders how long this has been going on, how long you have felt this way. But they know now and come hell or high water they would help you.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you some help. I’m not going anywhere.”

[inkedreverie]

𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: author! ransom drysdale x touch starved! girlfriend! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have the perfect cure for Ransom's writer's block.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content! filthy smut, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, swearing, creampie

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

“Fuck!” Ransom slammed his fist down on the dining room table. He ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. With a sigh, he slowly closes the lid of his laptop. He had made no progress on his novel despite working for hours on the first draft, all the words he typed out seeming forced and not flowing right, resulting in him deleting everything and starting over.

“Ransom!” Y/N’s voice rang out, drawing his attention as she entered the dining room. His eyes lifted to meet hers, taking in her appearance in the silk nightgown that stopped just above her knees.

For a moment, he contemplates telling her to leave, but he can't bring himself to do so. Instead, he sighs and runs his hand through his tousled hair once more.

She approached Ransom, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind as she stood behind his chair. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, but he remained steadfast in his determination to meet his deadline.

Her concern and desire were palpable in her tone as she whispered into his ear, "You've been working all night. Come to bed. For my sake, baby?"

He sighed, his lips slightly parting. "No. I've got a deadline. You know how important this book is to me." His stubbornness was clear in his tone, but Y/N wasn't yet done. She knew how much his writing meant to him, yet she was unwilling to give up.

After hearing Ransom's response, her desire to be with him outweighed her concern for his writing deadline. Her hands slid down his chest as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, her lips brushing against his jaw. He still refused to give up writing, but at that moment, all she wanted was for her boyfriend's attention to be directed at her...and her only.

“Ransom, I need you,” she begs, one hand inching closer to his belt buckle. And before she can move another inch, he snatches her wrist, surprising her.

He smirks when he hears her gasp. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?” Still holding her wrist, he pulls her down onto his lap, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her in place. 

While the other glides down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You think you can just waltz in here and I’m gonna give you what you want? Hm?”

“Ransom, please—?” He interrupts her, cupping her mouth with his palm. His other arm still holding her against him, his growing bulge pressed against her ass. “You feel that? That’s all me, baby girl.” She clenches her thighs together, a familiar honeyed heat pooling in her lower belly.

Ransom grins when she doesn’t answer. “Here’s what’s going to happen; you’re going to do what I say, and if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

She nods as he leans back against his chair, arms loosely falling to each side. Leaving Y/N free to move about, but she remains sitting. Eyes pleading for some sign of what she’s meant to do, Ransom takes note, but he says nothing. He hums, his fingers trailing over her shoulders, pushing down the thin strap. “Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to ride my thigh. Show me how much you want me,” he whispered in a seductive tone.

Y/N takes a deep breath and forces herself to move, shifting so she's now straddling Ransom's thigh while he sits in his chair. She can already feel the tension in her own body, as she stares at his handsome face in anticipation. She can also feel the heat building within her as his fingers trail over her shoulders and down the thin straps of her nightgown.

Hands clinging to the fabric of his sweater as she started to move against his leg. Soft whimpers and moans escaped past her glossy lips, and he hummed his approval. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat when his hands trailed up her bare thigh, the cold of his rings grazing the sensitive skin. 

“Mmm. Good girl,” he praised. His hands moved up her sides, dancing under the fabric of her nightgown, slowly teasingly inch by inch. 

With her eyes closed in pure bliss, she threw her head back. He pushed the hem of her gown up, licking his lips as he felt his thigh begin to get damp from her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re doing so great for me, sweetheart,” Ransom groans against her ear, and a moan escapes her lips, rocking back and forth against him faster, losing all composure.

“C’mere,” he drawls as his thumb slides to her front, brushing her swollen lips, collecting her wetness. Ransom smirked devilishly, a hungry gaze overtaking his lust-filled blue eyes when she gazed down at him, finding satisfaction in the neediness her body provided.

She trembled at Ransom's devilish smirk, her breath catching in her throat as his thumb brushed against her swollen folds. As his thumb continued to collect her wetness, she felt herself growing even more aroused, yet she couldn't help but feel vulnerable as she gave in to Ransom and his touch.

She rocked back and forth, her body pressing harder against him as her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her lips seeking his own. Ransom grunted in appreciation and pleasure as he tightened his grasp on her thighs and leaned in closer to her. His hunger for her was palpable in the way he gazed at her with longing and lust in his eyes.

Ransom smirked, taking his thumb into his mouth. His tongue curled around his thumb with a guttural groan. He loved it—craved the taste of her desire. He gripped her chin, forcing his lips on her.

She melted into the kiss, tongues swirling as their breaths melded into one. Y/N groaned softly when the loss of contact, only to shiver when his icy blue eyes pinned her with their intensity.

"Get up. Bend over, arms spread out on the table," he told her after a moment, his voice still filled with lust. But as she started to move toward the table, Ransom pulled her back, turning her toward him again.

"On second thought," he told her, “I want to see that pretty face as I pound into that tight cunt. Face this way, like that... yes, baby—perfect.” His fingers trailed between her slit, his fingers dangerously close to her entrance.

Y/N whimpered when Ransom pressed his knee between her thighs, spreading her open for him. Leaning forward to capture his lips, her nipples hardened against his chest. “Uh-uh. Hands-on the table,” he snapped. “Spread.”

She did as he ordered. He looked down at her, taking her in, and bit the corner of his bottom lip. His mouth pressed into a smug grin. “Fucking perfect.” Ransom slid his hands back down the softness of her inner thigh, gripping tighter as they made their way to the apex of her sex.

Two digits teased her soaked opening, plunging them both inside of her warmth at a slow pace, dragging in and out. Her hips bucked upward against his hand, and he groaned at her eagerness.

Her hands curled, gripping the edge of the table. Her breath grew heavier and heavier as his fingers moved in and out of her. “Mmmm,” she whimpered.

“You are so wet and hot,” Ransom hissed into her ear. “Do you know what that does to me?” She watched him unbuckle the clasp of his belt, her eyes heavy with lust, watching every movement he made, admiring the muscles that danced underneath his thick white sweater as he slowly dragged it over his head and cast it aside.

He smirked at her, enjoying her wanton eyes, needing him as much as he did her. He stepped close to the table, pulling his cock free, and stroking it in his hand. She felt her mouth salivate.

“This is mine... all mine,” his eyes narrowed on hers. He brought the head of his cock against her slit. It jumped and pulsed against her slick core. The hardness was driving her mad. She pouted up at him.

“That look,” He exhaled harshly. “is why I’m going to give you whatever you want. Tell me what you want...don’t hold back. If you want my dick, then tell me, be the dirty girl I know you can be.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, leaned down, and kissed her deeply. “Let go... give into the pleasure. Release the pent-up desires you’ve kept bottled inside.” Y/N couldn’t handle it; she’d gone far too long without having the weight of him over her body and the touch of him upon her skin.

The words flew from her lips freely. “Ransom, fuck, I need you...” she muttered, followed by a quick hitch, “I need to feel it in me.”

He smirked, pleased. “Yeah, baby?” She nodded; the next thing, his cock plunged deep inside of her with a grunt. “Ransom...” she moaned as he pulled back out slowly, leaving his tip to catch on the edge of her throbbing sex.

 Her fingers gripped the edge of the table for purchase when he pushed his way inside, filling her so completely with himself. There was nothing between them, they were one.

Ransom placed his hands on her hips, his fingertips biting into her flesh as he ground his cock deeper and harder against her. She wrapped her arms around his body and held on as he pumped into her.

“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is my dick what you missed when you touched yourself? Did your own hand bring you pleasure?” She mewled out her approval when his thumb caressed against her lower abdomen, making it press harder on the spot that made her head spin faster until, finally, her cunt pulsed with every wave of electricity that crackled through her body. She felt every nerve within her clamp down and cling to his length as it filled her to her brink.

His palms pressed to her breasts, pinching the perked buds as her pleasure rose. Ransom picked up the pace, pushing into her harder, hitting that delicious spot that had her back arching.

“Tell me. I want to hear you say it, baby.” Her walls clenched tighter around his length, sucking him in and not releasing. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, nibbling on the sensitive spot beneath her jawline, earning more melodic moans from her.

“You. I want you, all of you—God, fuck yes,” she cried out as he slowed the pace of his thrusts, holding her still as his pelvis hit her clit. Each time he drew back, it left her needy and wanting. Ransom placed her ankle atop his shoulders, looking down between them as his cock slid into her, glistening with her slick. 

The sounds of their pleasure mingling echoed off the empty walls of the Drysdale residence. Ransom groaned loudly as his eyes closed, letting the sensations roll over him like a thunderous storm. She rolled her hips to meet his thrusts. His balls slapping against her ass. He grunted, loving the feeling of her pussy, the tight heat, and velvety walls.

“Such a greedy girl, always wanting to be full of my cock—fuck! Just like that baby, cumming already...” He slapped his hands onto her hipbones and rode her harder. She could see stars behind her lids, a telltale sign that she was nearing release. 

His mouth dipped low, suckling at the peaks of her breast and pulling one taut nipple into his mouth, alternating between them. “I fucking love these tits...” he mumbled against her skin. “Just seeing you like this—fuck, baby, you make me feel things I never thought possible.”

“I love you, Ransom,” she whimpered when he drove into her in short, brutal jabs. He slowed and stared down at her. He smiled and caressed her face.

“I know,” he said as he kissed her. Her orgasm slammed into her, shattering her from the inside out, and she trembled from the sensation as she lost control of all faculties.

Her toes curled against his back, and her heels dug in. She shook against him and clawed at the smooth wood as Ransom continued to slide into her, slowing his movements while she rode the high.

His chest rumbled in a feral growl as his seed shot forth and flooded her core. He stilled for a moment and waited until he was spent. Pulling from her, he admired the sight before him. His cum slowly seeped from her slit and dripped from her folds onto the floor. A dark sense of satisfaction settled over him, and he gave a smug smile.

When she recovered, she sat up slowly, wincing slightly. Her sore muscles ached, but she felt sated in all ways. Ransom pulled her up against him, wrapping his arms around her. She breathed him in, sighing happily. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Sorry, I got carried away,” he kissed her neck.

She laughed. “No, but I will be tomorrow, but it will be worth it.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused.

“I have a few ideas,” she grinned as she looped her arms around his neck.

Ransom laughed and peppered kisses over her neck. “It seems I created a monster,” he quipped, “but don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of underwear. You knew what you were doing, you little devil.”

“What can I say? When it comes to you, I can be quite needy. Besides, how else would I get you to stop working?” Ransom scoffed, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissing the top of her head.

“You head up to bed. I’ll be there soon. Okay, baby?” he asked. She nodded.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be waiting for you,” she replied as he helped her to her feet and walked over to grab his discarded clothes. He watched as she left the dining room.

Once she was out of view, Ransom sat back down in his chair. As he tried to resume his work, all he could think about was his girlfriend upstairs in their bed. The sounds of her soft cries, the feel of her under his touch. He licked his lips.

Who knew writer’s block could be such a blessing?

As he saved his document, he smiled and shut the lid of his laptop. Work could wait another day. For now, he had something more important to take care of.

banner credit: @.saradika

[oh-archivist]

What did your natural hair look like before hair loss and what does it look like now?

Howdy!

These two are when I shaved it and grew it out for about a 2 years

I was 2.5 years on T ish!

Then in 2017-2019 I started noticing a lot of my hair falling out in the shower, I didn't think anything of it since my sister also loses a lot of hair in the shower. But that was definitely me experiencing hair loss through testosterone. I should have started finasteride and rogaine then 🤷 That doesn't cure hair loss but it slows down the process.

Below are two photos of me in 2018 having a rough time of it and feeling very self conscious about my thinning hair

Fast forward to 2022 and I did my mohawk and dyed hair a lot because It kind of better disguises the fact that you have/ thinning/ balding happening

And currently? I have a shaved head! Cause a character I cosplay frequently has a majority of his head shaved as well I wear wigs most of the time!

Here are some recent photos of natural hair and my main wig 💪

In the end, it took me so long to accept the fact I lost a HUGE part of me. I wasn't aware that the hair loss genetic was on your mother's father and not my own. My dad and his mom have thick hair. But my mother and her father have VERY THIN hair. 🤷

In the end, I love wearing wigs! I can have a new hair style/color pretty quickly at a relatively affordable price depending on the wig I pick! I know how to cut them and dye them since I did my own hair for over a decade. I was self conscious no one would find me attractive with a shaved head or after finding out I wear wigs, but literally, since this part of my life has started, no one gives a shit. They're like oh? Cool!

My confidence is back after being lost for all those years and it shows. And it speaks volumes if someone wants to get to know me, and then upon finding out that it's not my natural hair, they don't want to talk to me any longer, I do not need those types of individuals in my life.

Anyways, if you want some advice or any more questions, hmu.

I also have experience with hair pieces! I did then for a year and a half total. They are EXPENSIVE but can be worth it for the right person.

[zippidi-dooda]

1 - Chance Encounter

It was quiet for now.

Your son was still fast asleep in your bedroom leaving you a chance to relax. He was adorable but such a handful despite being one boy. Always running off without warning.

"What am I going to do with you?" You smiled. Leaning against the door frame, you watched the dark haired boy sleep for a moment. 

He looked so peaceful right now; his e/c eyes finally shut, drool dripping from his mouth, his chest falling and rising steadily. It calmed you. 

You did all you could to keep him out of trouble and so far he was still safe.

But there was a few close calls. 

You decided it'd be easier for you to raise him and protect him by living far from the kingdom. Away from the place he lived.

Which is why you lived here.

Deep in the woods in a formerly abandoned cabin.

It had only been about a week since you'd arrived here and you had been able to spruce up the place. The once dingy, cobwebbed house was thoroughly cleaned and dusted, the leaky ceiling mostly repaired, the doors all replaced, and the wild critters kicked out.

You had yet to repair the furniture but it has, so far, given you no problem using so you'd be fine continuing to use it until you got around to the task.

It had taken you a long time, and a lot of bribing, to get this far out, unannounced, with your son. Your son, Lucas, didn't enjoy the traveling at all and made it very clear. But it was worth every second.

You doubted anyone else would get this close to the Valley of Thorns.

You certainly wouldn't if you weren't in your situation.

But you were, so you did. And you had yet to meet any beastly beings since getting here. Perhaps all the awful stories you heard about the place were wrong.

Then again, you weren't actually in the Valley so maybe that was why you were undisturbed.

Whatever the case, you and your son were finally free.

You walked towards the kitchen, the floor creaking as you went (you'd need to fix that soon) and got started on dinner.

You had few rations left now and had already begun growing a garden outside, but it'd take a while for anything to grow. Meaning you'd need to scavenge for food soon.

Or trek into the Valley of Thorns and hope no one would be hostile towards an outsider like you and sell you something.

You didn't know if your money had value here, so going there may not be beneficial.

You shook your head. It'd be best to worry about it when the time came.

So you pulled up your sleeves, tied your hair back, started up the fireplace, and began preping something from the cured meats and vegetables you had.

It wasn't long before you heard a low, mellow voice call from behind you.

"Who are you?"

You flinched, spinning around quickly to face a strange man standing by the front door. 

The first thing you noticed was the pair of dark horns sitting atop his head.

Your heart began to race. "You're . . ."

You knew exactly who he was.

He was tall, his horned head almost hitting the roof of the house. His skin was pale as porcelain, eyes lime green and almost glowing. Pointed ears peeked out from his long pitch black hair which faded to a deep blue at the tips.

He wore black clothes which covered his body entirely, no amount of skin other than his face and neck showing. 

He was . . . "Gorgeous."

His thin brows raised in shock and he continued to stare at you for a moment. Then he let out a laugh. It was deep and alluring. Fitting for an heir to the throne.

"I must say I dont hear that very often. How unexpected. Although you still haven't answered my question, Child of Man."

Your eyes flitted towards the bedroom for a second before you focused your attention back on the man.

"It's quite rude to ask a lady her name before stating your own."

His eyes narrowed but he continued to smile. "Quite so. But seeing as you've come here unannounced I say different manners come to play here."

"I'm unannounced?" You turned towards the counter, reached for the knife, and began to cut the meat. Again. "You're the one who walked in without even knocking first."

The man hummed. "I apologize. But I've never came here with a need to do so. As far as I know, this place has been abandoned."

"Not anymore." You were racking your brain for a plan to protect your son in case this man decided to do something.

He was very, very powerful, if he tried something you'd have no real way of winning against him. 

So the most you could do was hope he'd just go away.

"Really?" 

You froze feeling his breath lightly against your ear. He stood right next to you now. And not a sound was made as he moved. 

That shouldn't have been possible.

"And what exactly brings you here? Most would prefer to live in a place close to others. If something were to happen to you out here, no one would ever know."

You gulped and began chopping again.

Lucas, please dont wake up. Stay in that room.

"W-well," You cleared your throat. "Shouldn't a prince like you be in their palace learing to rule a kingdom?"

The man leaned away from you. "So you know who I am? Most would run in fear at the sight of me. Fascinating . . . ."

He lifted a finger at you causing the knife in your hands to slip from your grasp and float onto the counter. 

"You'll have nothing to eat if you continue cutting it so finely."

"Yes. But maybe I like it that way."

He hummed. "You're a strange one. What is your name, Child of Man?"

Was it safe to answer? 

Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak a different voice spoke.

"Mom, can I play outside?"

You bit your tongue and quickly walked over to your son who was walking over to you.

"Not now, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready, just go wait in the room."

You tried ushering Lucas back to the room, out of sight of the fae standing in the kitchen. 

But his eyes grew wide as he spotted the man and he wasted no time bounding over to him. It was as if he hadn't just woke up moments ago. You began to sweat, praying that the man wouldn't do anything to your boy.

Lucas smiled from ear to ear and jumped carelessly on the man who thankfully or unthankfully (you weren't sure yet) caught him in his arms.

"Daddy!"

Both the fae's and your eyes widened in shock at the boy's statement. 

"'Daddy?'"

"No, sweetie. That's not-"

"Dad, why didn't you come visit me? I missed you."

Lucas frowned angrily and punched the man's chest. 

"You were supposed to come for my birthdays but you didn't! You're mean."

You and the man stared at the boy incredulously.

You quickly rushed over to the pair and tried to take Lucas. "I am so sorry. Lucas, that is not your dad. Say sorry right now."

The boy held on tightly to the man, refusing to go to you, and said, "Yes he is. Look, we have the same hair and he's making dinner for us. He's my dad."

Oh to have the logic of a child once again.

Though you suppose this misunderstanding was your fault. You still hadn't told him the truth about his actual father. He was still under the impression that his dad was just traveling the world and wouldn't be back for a long time.

"Please forgive him. He's just a child."

The man simply began to laugh again, not seeming to take offense. That was good. You hoped.

"How amusing. I never imagined I'd be called that before. What an interesting pair you two are."

He set Lucas down on the ground

"I am not your father though, child. And I must be going now. Farewell, you two." 

Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished leaving behind a few green fireflies where he once stood.

"Woww!" 

Lucas looked on in awe and reached towards the light bugs.

"Dad's so cool!"

You frowned. 

At least the fae was gone. And hopefully didn't come back.

"Lucas, he isn't your Dad. That's Malleus Draconia."

Masterlist

2 - A little Trip

[kiestrokes]

AAAAHHHH!!!!! IT IS WEDNESDAY!!!! I TOTALLY FORGOT!!!!

OH KIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Care to reveal a bit about fuckboy Mingi?

Alright Luce,

SFW above the cut and NSFW under it because I want to get this fic finished so bad. I need you to light a fire under my ass please.

My fuckboy Mings fic is Say My Name! and it’s got a silly little fratboy setting and nearly everyone’s queer🤷🏻‍♀️ idk it just happened like that. This is legit the note at the bottom of my wip 😅

SFW-ish

“I can’t see anything!” You turn to Yunho confused.

He takes a sip of his drink regarding you over the rim with mischievous eyes, before breaking the stare with a slap to the bar counter.

“Hop up here,” Yunho sets his cup down on the other side and lifts you onto the counter before you have time to even think.

From your newly elevated position you can see through the small circle that has formed around three people. In the center is a guy with grown out silver hair, wavy and falling across his eyes.

“That’s Mingi,” Yunho smirks up at you.

You roll your eyes at him. He’d been talking your ear off for a month about his new roommate and how he just knew you’d be into him. That he’d be the ideal person to ceremoniously break your dry spell and miraculously heal you from your breakup.

You take a big gulp of your drink as he starts body rolling along with the others, except his gyrations are ridiculously fluid. Ebbing and flowing along to another T-Pain song, nearly as smooth as the R&B singer's voice. Nearly.

Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the exact tool Yunho thinks can cure you. On blatant display for the whole fraternity and all of its guests, in the thin pants Mingi is wearing.

“Fine, he’s cute,” you concede.

Yunho leans into the side of your legs with a triumphant laugh, his arm slipping between your thighs to appropriate half of your body for himself. He tilts his head back against your shoulder, his eyes reflecting the neon lights strung up along the ceiling.

“So, you wanna test him out for me?” Yunho whispers against your bottom lip, his hand giving your knee a squeeze.

Your eyes drift to Yunho’s smiling lips and nod, leaning in to give him a firm peck.

NSFW

“Mingi” you groan, as he rocks in and out with half pulled strokes.

“You look so good like this,” his darkened gaze slips up to meet yours.

Your eyes flick down to the folds of your stomach, where your tits are bulging between the bracket of your thighs. A whine breaking the seal of your bitten lips, as you watch Mingi pull almost completely out and press slowly back into you.

“Let’s just do this a couple of times, please” Mingi breathes, eyes bearing into yours.

You nod shakily, watching him. Little hums of pleasure escaping each time his body shudders into yours. Tensing as you squeeze around his tip when he matches it to the edge of your swollen entrance.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[ink-and-blood-goddess]

Valentine's Day Prompts (Lucien Crown Prompt 9)

Requested by @evelina92-Lucien Crown / Prompt 6 💞

A/N- FINALLY I’VE FINISHED IT!!! Sorry for the long wait, I got busy with work and other stuff. I’ve enjoyed writing this one with Lucien and I can’t wait to do Bane next. Everybody enjoy :) 

Warnings: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff (little angst) 

Citrus Scale:🍎

W.C+: 2.1K

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was another peaceful, snowy nightfall in New York City. It was like any other night, but not this one. This night was very different. It was February 14th. Valentine’s Day.

This holiday was special above the rest. Valentine’s Day is your most favorite holiday out of the whole year. That special time of the year to spend it with your significant other, Lucien Crown. Lucien Crown was a name you could roll around on your tongue.

You’ve been with him for almost two years. Lucien wasn’t like other guys. He’s different. By different meaning, he’s a vampire, but a living vampire.

Lucien was born with a rare blood disorder and lived in pain into his adult life. He met you as you began working for him as a caregiver and fell in love. He wanted a way to be with you without having to deal with the pain of his disorder. 

That’s until his lifetime friend Dr. Michael Morbius found a cure. When he was given the cure, he changed a lot. Lucien was able to walk freely without his cane and do stuff he never did as a child. However, there was a side effect of that cure. A lust for blood.

After a few people were drained of their blood, Lucien vowed to never do it again and to only drink artificial blood to keep his bloodlust in control. He’s doing that for you. Lucien would never harm a hair on your head. He just wants a normal relationship with you.

 Now the thing is he’s well off. Comes from a wealthy family and can buy anything he wants. There’s been times he wanted to spoil you, but got you things that were very meaningful. Always wanted to make you smile in return.

You’ve never wanted a single thing, until now. It was something you’ve had your eye on since last spring. A beautiful gold heart locket on a gold chain. That’s the only thing you ever wanted to have.

You first saw it when you walked past the window of the jewelry store that’s several blocks down from your apartment. You couldn’t help yourself, but look at it through the glass in the sunlight. The way the gold glittered and sparkled like little diamonds. Lucien noticed you looking at it and saw how happy it made you.

“Don’t worry, love. One day you’ll wear that beautiful piece around your lovely neck,” he said as he placed a kiss into your hair. Since then, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. It never escaped your mind and you never let it go, until now.

Lucien has been acting strangely lately. For the past few weeks, you’ve hardly seen him around the penthouse. Not even at the kitchen table. This made you start worrying very deeply in the pit of your stomach.

What if he relapsed to his old ways and didn’t want you to know about it? That thought ate at your mind all day long. This is not like him to do that. He swore he’d never do it ever again. 

 You were standing outside on the balcony of the penthouse, watching the snow falling gracefully over New York. Each one floating downward like little white diamonds. Sparkling within the city lights, making them more beautiful.

As you stood upon the stone balcony, a gust of cold air came through making you shiver from head to toe. You were completely barefoot standing on the thin layer of snow. Each of your toes almost felt numb, as you stood outside like this.

The thick blanket that usually sat on the couch was wrapped around your upper body. You drew the blanket closer to your body to keep warm. Another shiver made you feel colder than before. The same thought came right back, making you feel more uneasy by the passing second.

Lucien never stays out this late. Never. He’s always back on time or he just stays in. You were starting to wonder if he doesn’t love you anymore. You were snatched away from your gut wrenching thoughts when you heard the door to the penthouse unlock. The door creaked open like always and was followed by a very familiar voice.

“(Y/N), are you there?” Lucien said in his usual playful voice. You heard the clatter of the keys on the table next to the entrance and the door closing behind him.

“(Y/N)?” he asked again playfully. “I’m over here,” you called out over your shoulder. The floorboards creaked beneath Lucien’s light footsteps.

“What are you doing out there,” a gasp escaped through his lips when he spotted you on the balcony. You turned around to face him and noticed he looked very worried seeing you like this. “Watching the snowfall over the city.” You lied. You were actually waiting for him really.

“Well, get back inside before you catch a cold,” he walked over quickly and grabbed you by the hand. Once you were inside, Lucien closed and locked the sliding glass doors. The cold air disappeared quickly and was replaced by warmth. You felt your toes again. Wiggling them around.

“Lucien, where were you?” You asked as you removed the blanket from your shoulders and threw it back onto the couch. “Nowhere. Why do you ask,” he avoided eye contact with you. You gave out a long sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for you. You were gone all day long. You didn’t leave me a note or let alone a text message. What were you doing?” Lucien was caught off guard by your words. He turned over to you and saw your eyes. Those beautiful (E/C) eyes were stained with tears.

“Oh (Y/N),” he slowly walked over to you with his arms open for embrace. Wrapping his arms around you and placing kisses on top of your head, you felt a great weight was lifted off of your shoulder. You cried softly against his scratchy and soft sweater.

“There there. Don’t cry my love. I’m here now, so don’t worry,” Lucien cooed, as he rubbed his cheek against your forehead. With his arms still wrapped around you, he lifted his head up to look at you again. Lifting your head off of his chest, you sniffle as more tears slowly fall down your face.

“Oh my dear little (Y/N). How I worried you so. I’m so sorry for doing this to you,” he said as he placed another kiss on your forehead. Your heart fluttered a bit. Lucien doesn’t like it when he upsets you like this. Even if it’s the littlest thing.

“It’s just,” you said softly, “you were acting strangely lately and I was getting very worried about you. I thought you’ve relapsed and gone back to your old ways.” Sadness filled his green eyes, making you worry about his well being.

“Oh (Y/N). I’ve got you in such a tizzy having you worrying about my well being, I wasn’t thinking straight enough. I’m so sorry,” he said as he hugged you again.

The tight embrace made you feel warm and comfortable, making you all happy that Lucien wasn’t doing anything bad. You just wanted to know what he was up to, that’s all.

“The reason why I was ‘out of character’ to put it, was to give you this,” he said as he lifted both arms off of you. Then, he reached into his coat pocket. “Now hold out your hands and close your eyes, but no peeking,” he said with a mischievous smile.

You did what he asked. You closed both eyes and held out both hands. After several seconds, you felt something smooth and leathery against your skin. Feeling around, you took note it was a box. But what kind of box though? 

Still feeling around, something else was on the box. It felt soft and smooth upon your fingers, as you rubbed them against the material. You knew it was ribbon. Tied around the box you held in the palm of your hands.

“Alright. You can open them now,” he said in a low whisper. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked down at the box in your hands. The box was small and fits in the palm of your hand. A big red ribbon was wrapped and tied in a big bow around the box, nearly covering the whole thing up.

“Go on and open it then,” he said. Grabbing one of the ends of the ribbon, you gently tugged and pulled the ribbon towards you. The ribbon untangled itself and fell off the box. Keeping the ribbon in your hand for right now, you slowly opened the lid of the box. Once it was opened, both of your eyes widened and a gasp escaped through your lips.

There sitting inside of the box, was the golden heart locket. It laid upon red satin cloth that was lined around the interior of the box. The metallic gold glittered and sparkled in the dim light, like the day you saw it in the window. A long, gold chain encircled the locket in the box, making it more breathtaking.

“You got this for me? How thoughtful of you.” You said, as tears welled up in your eyes and fell down your face. 

“That’s not all. Open it,” he gestured to the locket. Picking up the locket, the metal felt cold and smooth against your fingers. At the edge of the locket in the middle was a small latch. Using the edge of your thumbnail, you carefully and slowly unhooked it from the small hook. Once it was free, you slowly opened the heart shaped object.

You felt your heart skip a beat or two when you looked at what was inside. Inside was a photo of Lucien and you at the beach last summer. It was from that photo booth you went to on the boardwalk. The two of you looked so happy together.

Still looking at the locket, you noticed small writing on the underside of the top. Looking closer at it, another gasp came out of your lips when you read it in a whisper.

It said: Together For Eternity, Never Apart From One Another.

More tears fell down, as you placed your hand over your mouth. “Oh Lucien,” you cried softly, “this is very sweet of you.” Lucien walked back over and hugged you again, placing kisses on top of your head. “I knew you would love it.”

“You went through all this trouble, to get me this,” you said softly in the crook of his neck. He chuckled lightly, “yes I did. I wanted to surprise you with it. You deserve this more than anything from me, other than my love for you.” He said, giving you another kiss on the head.

He did this for you and still has his love for you. He’ll never stop loving you if anything comes between you two.

After a few moments, he lifted his arms off and cupped both hands on your cheeks. “Come. Let me put that beautiful piece around your lovely neck,” he said, using his thumbs to wipe away stray tears from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. You slowly nodded your head yes.

You started walking over towards the mirror that hung near the entryway. Lucien followed behind you. Walking up to the mirror, you placed the box and ribbon onto the table that was beneath it. Lucien came up behind you, leaned over your shoulder, and picked up the locket’s chain with his slender fingers. 

    It took no time for him to unhook the clasp that held the chain together. After he unhooked it, he brushed your hair to one side so that he could put the locket on. You then picked your hair up with both hands to make it easier for him.

Lucien swung the chain around your neck and hooked the clasp back up, making sure it was safely secure on you. Letting go of your hair, it flowed back down over your shoulders and framing your face. Lucien then helped by combing his fingers through the strands to untangle them.

As the both of you look in the mirror, you couldn’t help yourself but admire the locket that now hung around your neck. The locket hung low and went past your collar bone. Your fingers hovered above the locket, as another stream of tears went down your cheeks.

Lucien snaked his arms around you, hugging from behind and rested his chin upon your shoulder. “So, do you love it (Y/N),” asking you softly. You nodded your head slowly. “Yes I do. Very much,” you said, as you looked at him in the mirror.

Lucien chuckled, “that’s very good to hear. I knew you would,” he said as he placed more kisses on your neck and jawline.  

[ronn-uuu]

Stay up for me?

I made a part 2 for y’all bitches!! 😁 I hope you y’all enjoy!! 🫶🏾

|Part 1|

Summary: It’s been 4 weeks since the music incident with Steven. You’ve been trying to talk to your neighbor(s) to befriend ‘him’ but he’s never there. One day you hear him through the walls one night and decide this is your chance.

Pairing: Marc x Reader (heavily), Steven x reader and Jake x reader.

You were laying on your bed with your phone in hand reading some random stuff (like you are now.) trying to cure some sort of boredom or need inside of your chest. Your mind wondered onto the neighbor, the one you met about a month ago, you kinda wanted to see him again. Your attempts to talk to him always failed. He was never home and when he was you were out. One time you passed him without realizing it, he was leaving and you were heading to your Flat. You walked right past him no words at all. You didn’t realize he might be your neighbor until you were trying to fall asleep.

You huffed in embarrassment, you really missed your chance and you don’t know when—

Muffled speaking cut your self loathing. You looked at the wall next your bed, waiting to see if you were just hearing things.

“We need to talk to Khonshu about these hell of hours, yeah?” Muffled through the thin wall. It took you 5 seconds to hop off your bed put some pants on, slip your fluffy boots on, and clean yourself up in the mirror. It was embarrassing how quickly you changed emotions, your looks and self esteem just for a guy who knocked on your door a month ago. Though you didn’t care, you wanted to finally speak to him. The very pretty Steven Grant was home and you just had to shoot your horrible shot.

You closed your front door and walked next door. Your heart was going so fast and I you were literally beaming, like a kid who just got praised for something. You knocked softly after fixing your hair one last time.

Marc was currently in control, he got them home and cleaned them up. The month after meeting you was full of them running around meeting up with Layla, protecting people, artifacts, and people. Their sleep schedule was totally fucked, once steven finally fell asleep and in the same minute Jake woke up and went out to go fight crime. They had an altar meeting after waking in a dark alley bloody, bruised and still in the suit.

Marc sighs as he feeds Gus 2.0 since Steven will never let Marc get away will killing the original Gus. Just when he was beginning to start his horrendous sulking he heard a knock.

“Who could be awake at this hour?” Steven questioned.

“Who knows,” Jake replied. Marc walked towards the door and opened it. None of them would have thought it would be the pretty neighbor from next door, Marc should have given the body to Steven but Marc didn’t give him an ounce of control. His eyes racked over your frame. You looked so snug in that fluffy faux fur jacket and those fluffy boots, he couldn’t help but think you looked cute.

“Hey Steven!” You exclaimed. You were excited to meet him again but hearing a name that wasn’t his but his altar’s made him jealous.

“Hey, it’s been awhile,” Marc says. You notice his accent was American, his features were more rougher, and he stood more confident than when you last saw him. Maybe it’s because last time you saw him, he was tired. But he changes accents when he’s tired…?? You shoved the thought of it down. Maybe he’ll tell you one day.

“Yes it has. I’ve been trying reach you for a while,” you admitted. Marc smiled, you we’re trying to reach them and it won't be the first and definitely not last time he cursed khonshu. He could have been spending his time with you but he knew deep down that lives would have lost so he kept the cures to a minimum.

“Really?” Marc smuggly asked. Steven was partying in their mind., their neighbor literally sought for them after the music incident. This was the close he got for someone showing interest in him. Jake praised him for it too.

“Yes, steven,” you said as you playfully roll your eyes. Marc would be lying if he didn’t say ant to tell you everything… First with his DiD. That he was Marc Spector and not Steven, but one thing held him back. Rejection. If you reject him even the slightest about his identity he’ll never feel alive again. His mind is already ‘broken’ enough.

"I should have asked this when I knocked on your door. What's your name, sweetheart?" Marc asked looking down at you. You smiled and told him your name before he parriot it back to you with such softness, like it was a delicate flower. Your eyes soften towards him, if he keeps saying your name like that you'll never let him go. Their mind was filled with steven and Jake repeating it.

“Hey I’m thinking of getting a late night snack… want to come?” You ask and ‘steven’ nods. You smiled widely that would have your cheek bones hurting for a bit.

[lime202]

Songs that reminded me of KNY dynamics and possible writing prompts, PT1

If anyone is interested in taking any songfic opportunities, here you go!

This post has manga spoilers. And, all of these prompts are angst, whoops. (This list is not limited to romantic dynamics, either—just dynamics that are interesting to touch on.)

Hakuji x Koyuki — "Stay Close" by SYML (Hakuji-centric)

"I know mourning is mourning and we heal differently / Right now it’s all I see" (Describes Hakuji falling back into his habits of violence after losing loved ones, with mourning being "all [he sees]" instead of finding true peace.)

"I want to keep you forever my love" (He says after her marriage proposal, and says once again as her pulse slows until it's nothing under his fingers.)

"I need somebody to save me" (Koyuki saved Hakuji from a life of ruthless violence, while Hakuji saved Koyuki from a life of loneliness and sickness.)

"If there’s no cure and there’s no medicine / Do we count the days until the end?" (No cure for the poison, no medicine for his father, and life is seeming to become more colorless and bleak.

Counting was the only thing Hakuji learned with his lack of education: the days left, money needed, grams of medicine needed, rations of food, punches thrown, hairpins needed to keep up his lover's hair...)

This song (literally all the lyrics, but I can't fit all of them in here) can also be applied to most of Hakuji's relationships, considering how tragic his past is.

Giyuu x Shinobu — "Take me Apart" by SYML (Giyuu-centric)

"Looking to start a war" (referring to the war of Humankind/Demon Corps vs Demons) "Wondering how it ends"

"I'm lucky he was a friend" (It's the only sentence that Giyuu can fully say about Sabito when confiding in Shinobu. She understands. As a slayer, she is someone who truly understands.)

"Take me apart and I'll flow like water" (A part of Giyuu's internal monologue, thinking about Shinobu's curiosity of him and her eagerness to pick him apart, while also insinuating his forced disconnect from the past and how he "floats above himself.")

These lyrics can apply to the canon also. They fit for a hypothetical scene about the aftermath of the war and Giyuu's perspective on being a survivor and the majority of the Corps' deaths.

Ruka x Shinjuro — "Lost On You" by LP (Shinjuro-centric)

"Burnin' like embers, falling tender / Long before the days of no surrender years ago" (The disease was prolonged, reducing his lover to a dying bonfire. Shinjuro knew what would happen, his children knew, and he could only hope that it wasn't as painful for Ruka to know as it was for him.

He knew he would never surrender to demon, but he couldn't have prepared for such a human circumstance to make him surrender his title as a Hashira.)

"So smoke 'em if you got 'em 'cause it's going down / All I ever wanted was you" (Her willpower remained strong and fiery until the end, but his own was made into a rapidly thinning smoke.)

"I'll never get to heaven 'cause I don't know how / Let's raise a glass or two" (His grief only came out as aggression. The way he treated his, her children was unworthy of forgiveness. Before he knew it, a few moderate glasses of sake increased to the whole bottle.)

My interpretation slightly deviates from the more accurate meaning of the song, but it still captures Shinjuro's full awareness of the inevitability of his wife's death and "end" of their relationship.

Kyojuro & Senjuro — "I Feel It in the Wind" by Smith & Thell (Switching perspectives)

"If you can find a drop in a drying sea / You'll find light in the darkest creeks" (Kyojuro always supplies his baby brother with happy words, acting as the source of light for their mostly dark, empty home.)

"You told me / I feel it in the wind my dear / The sun is gonna reappear / Good days are gonna come along / Hold on" (Hold on a little longer, is what Kyojuro used to say to Senjuro during harder times. The same words fall from Senjuro's lips as he weeps over Kyojuro, who lies overwhelmingly silent with endless injuries.)

"I feel it coming, the tide is turning / I feel it coming, you just got to wait and believe" (The tide is turning against the demons, they will surely meet their downfall, and you will live without needing to encounter any, Kyojuro insists, to both himself, and his brother weeping over him.)

This song wholly embraces the dynamic of Kyojuro always feeding Senjuro optimism during disheartening moments. Senjuro remembers every word, because any one could be his last.

Kyogo x Shizu — "Labour" by Paris Paloma (Shizu-centric)

"The calloused skin on my hands is cracking / If our love died, would that be the worst thing?" (Her hands were beginning to wear from chores, labor, and work. Their roughness made them appear less capable of love/physical affection, but that wouldn't stop her from cradling her children lovingly.)

"As the silence haunts our bed chamber / You make me do too much labour" (The bed is either silent with the lack of her lover or silent with unspoken anger. It eventually becomes dead silent when she is made into a widow.)

"All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid" "24/7 baby machine / So he can live out his picket fence dreams" (Her body was small, but she underwent endless labor and painful childbirth without a second thought for his sake.)

Love eventually turning into abuse. The whole song speaks for itself.

Genya & Sanemi — "Once in A Dream" by In the City (Sanemi-centric)

"I can't stop, I can't break, I carry the weight for you" (The Hashira can't stop until the last of his family is able to live in a world free of demons. The weight of being made into a demon-killing machine is nothing.)

"It’s the loneliest road, road I know, I know, I know" (Sanemi knows this most of all as he pushes Genya away, but Genya dying to demon because of him would be even lonelier. It is lonelier, he finds out.)

"When I’m awake, I hide all our chains so you aren’t afraid" (The older brother pretends, has been pretending ever since they were little, that Genya had nothing to be afraid of as long as he was there.

His promise of protection used to mean that they would always stay together. Now—knowing his blood attracts demons left and right—it meant that he had to act more like their father to get Genya away from danger; if Sanemi was the scariest thing there was, then anywhere away from him would seem safer, because it was safer.)

I know you expected "Brother" by Kodaline for the Shinazugawa brothers... open books, all of you. (My fingers still ache from restraining myself from typing and using that song.)

[justabigoldnerd]

B is for....

Baby:

Rocking a cradle without the baby in it will doom it to an Early Death

A knife should be placed on the doorstep at a child's birth so no witch or evil spirits can do the baby harm (because they cannot cross iron or steel)

(Ireland) Spitting on a new born baby brings it Good Luck

(Wales) Rubbing a new born baby's head with honey will bring it Good Luck

Opening all the locks in the house when a mother goes into labor will give them an easy labor

(Britain) If a child is born feet first, it will be disabled in an accident UNLESS bay leaves are immediately rubbed on its legs (this Reverses it)

(Britain) A child born feet first (called "footlings" have the power to cure muscular pains

A child who's mother died in childbirth will have special healing powers and will be called upon to give the "kiss of life" to cure respiratory illnesses

If a child sees itself in the mirror before it is six months old, it will Die before the year is out

Cutting a baby's fingernails or toenails before it is a year old will cause it to become a thief when it grows up (chew them off instead of using nail trimmers to Avoid This)

(Wales) Throw the water a baby has been washed in under a tree with leaves to ensure the baby grows well

(Wales) Never put a weaned baby to the breast again or it will grow up to be a terrible swearer

Always pull a new born baby's clothes on feet first. If you pull them on head first, it will grow up unhealthy.

Kissing a newborn baby will bring you Good Luck

A baby born with teeth will be selfish

A baby born with its right hand open will be generous

A baby that first grabs anything with its left hand will have Bad Luck in life

It is Bad Luck to weigh a new born baby

▪︎

Giving away all of your baby's clothes after they grow out of them will ensure another baby to come, whether it is wanted or not

(Jewish) The Evil Eye is threatened when anyone comments on how beautiful a baby is. This can be Reversed by saying in Yiddish three times; "Whoever gave you the evil eye may it fall on them."

(Jewish) Watching a baby sleep will Doom it to Death

(America) Never put an old diaper on a baby or it will grow up to be a thief

A child should be first nursed on the left side or it will become left-handed

A child weaned in early spring will get grey hair prematurely

(America) Throwing a baby into the air will cause it to grow up a dimwit

If a baby is bald, it will grow up to be a brilliant scholar

(Louisiana) Predict your baby's future by placing a Bible, a pack of cards, and a silver coin within reach. If it picks the Bible, it will have Good Luck. If it picks the cards, it will be a Gambler. If it picks the coin, it will have financial success.

(Old England) Allowing a new born baby to pee in the fireplace will cause it to grow up clean and well-behaved

Dressing a baby in black will cause it to Die before adulthood

(Britain) The first place a woman goes after giving birth (once she can leave the home) should be the church, or she and anyone she meets will have Bad Luck. If an "unchurched" woman visits another woman, then the other woman will have a child within a year.

Bacon:

Stolen bacon is a powerful cure for fever and constipation

Badger:

Keeping a badger tooth on you makes you unbeatable in gambling

Baking:

If any flour or meal is left over after the last baked good has been prepared, then the entire baking will be spoiled UNLESS the remnants are made into a small additional cake and given to a child. (This Reverses it.)

Throwing away scraps brings Disaster

It is Bad Luck to count the number of baked goods again when they are taken out of the oven. Doing so will make them go stale quickly.

If a loaf comes out of the oven broken open, that is a Sign that a stranger will come to share it with you

Baldness:

A cure for baldness is to rub goose dung on bald patches

Never cut your hair when the moon is waning or else it will thin and fall out

Baptism:

A child should be baptized as soon as possible after it's birth, or else it is at risk of bring taken by fairies or evil spirits

An unbaptized child can be protected from fairies and evil spirits by covering it with an item of the father's clothing when danger is near

Hanging herbs, bread, salt, and a piece of steel over the cradle will also protect a baby from fairies and evil spirits

(Northern England) If a child does not cry at its baptism, it will grow up naughty and disobedient because the inherent evil spirit has not been driven out by the holy water

The holy water should not be wiped from the face, but left to dry naturally

If the baby wore a christening cap, it should be kept on for the following twelve weeks

(German) If a baby girl is baptized in the same water as a baby boy, the girl will grow up to have a beard

(America) If a baby's baptismal water is saved and given to them later, they will become an excellent singer

It is Bad Luck to call a baby by its name before it is christened

(Scotland) Children who die unchristened will become ghosts and will be seen wandering the woods and lonely places crying about their fate

(Cheshire) An unbaptized baby cannot die

(Northern England) It is an an Evil Omen for a child to be the first one christened in a new church, as they will be claimed by The Devil

(Wales) A baptism immediately following a funeral is an Omen of Death

(Wales) A baptism immediately flowing a wedding will ensure a full and haply life

Children will be weak and sickly until they are baptized

To seal the child's future, a feast should be held immediately after a baptism. The more lavish the better, and lots of drink is essential

Barnacles:

Barnacles on the bottom of a ship will turn into geese

Baseball:

It is Bad Luck to see a cross-eyed woman in the stands. If you do, you will not get a hit during the entire game

It is Good Luck to see a red haired woman in the stands, especially if you can get her to give you her hair pin

Each hair pin found represents a base hit driven home

It is Good Luck to make sure that the fingers of your glove are left on the ground pointing to your own team's dugout when you go out to bat

Each bat contains a given number of strikes. It is Bad Luck to lend a team-mate your bat, it will give away some of your luck.

A split bat is Bad Luck

It is Bad Luck to let a bat lie crosswise in front of the dugout

If a dog walks across the playing field, the team at bat will have Bad Luck

No season should ever start on a Friday

Bathing:

(British Isles) Regarding swimming in the sea or rivers for the first time: "He who swims in May will soon be laid in clay / He who bathes in June will sing a merry tune / But he who bathes in July will dance like a fly"

Washing cleanses a person of dirt and of their sins

Washing your whole body washes away your Luck

(Wales) Miners would leave their backs dirty for fear that if they cleaned them, the mine would collapse on them

It is Good Luck to accidentally come across a naked person bathing

It is Bad Luck to bathe feet first

Bats:

A bat flying by you is a sign that someone is trying to betray or bewitch you

If a bat flies around your house three times, or actually flies into the room, this is an Omen of Death or Very Bad Luck for someone you know

If a bat hits a building, that is a sign that it will rain

Bats flying around at twilight before their normal time is a sign that good weather is on the way

Bats are the luckiest of all animals, and keeping a bone of a bat in your clothes will bring you Good Luck

(Europe) Putting the right eye of a bat un the pocket of your waistcoat will make you invisible

(Africa and Australia) The life of a bat represents the life of a man, and killing one will shorten the life of a man

If a bat flies into a woman's hair, it will become entangled and can only be released by cutting the hair

Beans:

The flowers of all beans are associated with Death and the spirits of the dead

Bean flowers are scattered about the house to placate the demons

(England) If one bean in a row grows white instead of green, it is a sign that a Death will occur the coming year

(South West of England) Kidney beans will not grow unless they are planted on the third day of May. It is Bad Luck to plant them at any other time.

Bear:

(America) Bears only breed once every seven years. When they do, it causes such a disturbance in the atmosphere that any cattle in the area that were about to give birth would lose their calves.

(America) Riding a bear is a cure for whooping cough in a child

Beauty:

(Rural Britain and Europe) Bathing in dew collected fresh on the first day of May will bring you beauty

(German) Cups of cold coffee will bring you beauty

(Hungary) Bathing in human blood will bring you beauty

Bed:

The "wrong side of the bed" is the left side, because the Devil sat at God's left side before he was cast out. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed will bring you Bad Luck.

You can Reverse the Bad Luck of waking up on the wrong side of the bed by putting your right sock and shoe on first while dressing

It is Bad Luck to get out of bed from the opposite side you got in on

A Death will occur in the family if more than two people make a bed

Avoid bed sores by placing two buckets of fresh spring water under the bed daily

Never use cold boiled water for this, because that will anger the Devil and if he passes by in the night, it will catch his eyes and he will do you harm

(Europe) It is Bad Luck to clean out a room where a guest has slept until an hour after they have left. The Bad Luck may be an unwelcome guest returning

Look under the bed before you sleep to ward off the Devil

(America) It is a Bad Omen to lay a hat on the bed at any time

(America) It is Bad Luck to turn a mattress on Friday and Sunday. If it is turned on a Sunday, it will result in a week of bad dreams.

(Europe) A bed should always be pointed in an east-west direction (the path of the sun), and if it faces North to South, then the sleeper will have restless nights

Bees:

Bees are considered wise creatures with a special knowledge of the future

Bees originated in Paradise and are known as "The Little Servants of God"

It is Very Bad Luck to kill a bee

It is important to tell the bees when any member of the Bee Keeper's family dies or gets married

After a death, a relative/the Bee Keeper must go to the hive and repeat three times: "Little brownies, little brownies, your [person] is dead." If this isn't done, the bees will die or fly away.

A Bride must inform the bees of her marriage or they will leave the hive and not return

After informing the bees of a death or marriage, if the bees begin to buzz again after a few moments, then they are content and will remain

A piece of bridal or funeral cake should be left by the hive for the bees to feed on

Bees swarming on a dead tree or hedge is an Omen of Death in the family

It is Bad Luck if a stray swarm lands on your house or land

Bees should never be sold, only bartered

Giving a hive to someone gives them Good Luck

(Cornish) Never move bees without telling them or they will sting their owner

(Cornish) If bees are moved on Good Friday, they will Die

Lazy or idle bees mean Disaster

If all the bees enter the hive and none come out again in a short time, that means rain is coming

If a bee flies into your house, it is a sign that a visitor will arrive soon

(Wales) If a bee flies around a sleeping child, that is a sign that the child will have a happy life

Bee stings are a cure for rheumatism

A virgin girl can always pass safely through a swarm of bees

Beetles:

It is an Omen of Death if a beetle walks over your shoe

(Scottish) It is Bad Luck if a beetle enters a room of your home when your family is seated. It is Even Worse Luck if you kill the beetle.

(Europe) A beetle will bring a terrible storm

Beetles are Bad Omens

It is Bad Luck if a beetle crawls out of a shoe you have left by the door

Bells:

(Europe) Church bells drive away evil spirits, and if rung during a storm, they might distract the spirit of the storm and cause the bad weather to stop

(England) If two bells ring in a house at the same time, someone is going to leave soon

(England) It is a Bad Omen if a bell rings for no reason

Bible:

If a Bible is left open, it will keep away evil spirits

Bibles are commonly used for divination

(Britain and America) To tell the future for the upcoming year, open a Bible at random and place a finger on a passage without looking

(America) To find out the character of his girlfriend and whether or not he should marry her, a young man can find out her age and apply it to the matching verse in the Book of Proverbs. The verse it leads him to will be a clue to her nature and temperament

(America) To find out the character of her boyfriend and whether or not she should marry him, a young woman can place her door key in the Song of Solomon section, leaving the key ring poking out. Then the Bible must be tightly bound with her garter or stocking and two other people must be asked to hold it by placing a finger under the key ring. The woman must then repeat, "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it. Love is as strong as death, but jealousy is as cruel as the grave, and burneth with a most vehement flame. If a man should give all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly consumed." If the Bible turns or falls, then she will marry. If nothing occurs, then she is unhappily going to be a spinster.

Birds:

Birds are believed to be the returned souls of dead people

Birds are symbols of Good and Evil

(Greek) The science of Bird Omens is called "Ornithomancy"

If a bird flies in and out of a window of a room, it is an Omen of Death of someone living in the house

If birds hover or fly constantly around a house, it is an Omen of Death

If a bird lands on a window sill and taps against the glass, it is an Omen of Death

(Ireland, Brazil, Australia) Black and grey birds that fly around trees at night and never settle contain the souls of Bad People who are doing penance

(France) Unbaptized children become birds when they die and stay birds until they are baptized by John the Baptist

(Scotland) If a caged bird dies on the morning of a wedding, the marriage will be unhappy and the couple will divorce

If you see a flock of birds just before you leave for a journey, the directon they fly in will indicate the success of your trip. If they are flying to the right, it is a Good Omen. If they are flying to the left, it is a Bad Omen.

It is Bad Luck if bird droppings fall on you

Birth:

(Europe) Open doors and locks and untie knots on any clothing the mother is wearing to ease the birth

(Coastal) A child cannot be born until the tide comes in. If one is born at the ebb, it is a Bad Omen.

(England) A child born via C-Section will have great strength and the power to see spirits and find hidden treasure

If a boy is born while the moon is waning, the next child will be a girl. If a girl is born while the moon is waning, the next child will be a boy.

If a boy is born while the moon is waxing, the next child will be a boy. If a girl is born while the moon is waxing, the next child will be a girl.

Sunday is the best day to be born

Children born on Christmas Day are Extremely Lucky

(Yorkshire) If a child is born at the hour of midnight, they will be able to see ghosts

(Yorkshire) It is Good Luck to place a newborn into the arms of a maiden first

A newborn should be carried to the top of a house or up a flight of stairs to ensure that it will "rise in the world"

(Kent) Put a boy's night shirt on a girl and a girl's night shirt on a boy to ensure they are "surrounded" by the love of the opposite sex later in life

(Yorkshire) Lay the father's clothes over a girl and the mother's clothes over a boy to ensure Good Luck in their love life

If a child is born with teeth, it is a Bad Omen that means they will Die a violent Death

(German) If the clouds are shaped like sheep or lambs when a child is born, they will have Good Luck in life

(Maine and Massachusetts) "First a daughter, then a son, / The world is well begun. / First a son, then a daughter, / Trouble follows after."

Regarding the character of a child born on each day of the week: "Monday's child is fair of face, / Tuesday's child is full of grace, / Wednesday's child is full of woe, / Thursday's child has far to go, / Friday's child is loving and giving, / Saturday's child works hard for a living, / But the child that is born on the Sabbath Day / Is blithe and bonny, good and gay."

Birthmark:

A birthmark is caused by the mother seeing something unpleasant or being touched by a demon or evil spirit during her pregnancy

(Mid-West America) A baby born with a double crown marking on their head (actually the shadow of the parietal and coronal suture bones) will travel a lot and live on at least two continents in their life

A child born with a caul (a thin membrane that sometimes covers the head) will become a gifted speaker

A caul will protect seafaring folk from shipwreck or drowning

A birthmark can be removed if the mother licks the mark for several days after the child's birth

Blackberries:

(France) The color of blackberries is due to being spat on by the Devil, and many people will not eat them

(England) Blackberries should never be gathered after October 11th because that is the day the Evil One fell on a blackberry bush and cursed the thorns that injured him

Blackberry brambles cure rheumatism, whooping cough, and boils

Blackbird:

Two blackbirds sitting together is a Good Omen

(Wales) Two blackbirds sitting together is an Omen of Death

Black Cat:

A black cat crossing your path is Good Luck

A black cat walking into your house is Good Luck

Killing a black cat is Extremely Bad Luck

Blood from the tail of a black cat will cure many minor illnesses if rubbed on the affected part

Black cats are used in rituals to appease the gods, but are never killed

A black cat must be completely black to have any special powers. Even a fleck or hair of white disqualifies it.

Blackheads:

A cure for blackheads is to find a bramble bush that forms an arch and on a sunny day crawl backwards and forwards under it three times, going as nearly east to west as possible

Black Sheep:

(British Isles) A black sheep brings Good Luck to a flock

(Shropshire) If a black lamb is born, it means Bad Luck for the shepherd. If a ewe has black twins, it is a sign of Disaster

Blood:

(Britian) A drop of blood taken from the pinkie finger of a man's left hand and secretly put in a woman's drink will make her fall passionately in love with him

Anyone who bleeds on Halloween will Die soon after

Blossom:

Trees and shrubs that bloom out of season are Bad Omens

(Wales) Christmas roses blooming in late spring is Ominous. Fruit trees that bud and flower out of season are a sign of Sickness or Death

If a large number of plants flower out of season, there will be a hard winter and much Sickness and Death

Blowing Out Candles:

It is Good Luck if the birthday haver blows out all the candles with one breath

(Greece) Candles symbolize life, and the number of candles displayed should represent the number of years that have already past in a person's life

If you make a wish while blowing out candles, it will come true if you blow them all out in one breath and if you don't tell anyone what you wished for

Borrowing:

"Never a lender or a borrower be."

The first three days of February and the last three days of March are Bad Luck for anyone who tries to borrow

(Scotland) It is Bad Luck to ask for a loan or plant any seeds on the first three days of February or the last three days of March

(Yorkshire) Always return what you have borrowed with grace and thanks, or you will have Bad Luck

Boxers:

It is Bad Luck if a fighter sees a hat lying on a couch or bed before a fight

It is Bad Luck to be the first in the ring

Any challenger for a title must duck under the ropes before the champion

New shoes are Bad Luck

It is Bad Luck to not spit on the palms of your gloves before confronting your opponent

Bramble Bush:

Bramble bushes cure blackheads, boils, rheumatism, and whooping cough if the suffering person is passed under a natural arch formed by the brambles

Bread:

It is Bad Luck to waste bread or throw any away, you will go hungry later if you do

Anyone who pricks the loaf with a fork or knife will never be "a happy maid or wife." Pricking should be done with a skewer.

A loaf splitting at the top while baking is an Omen of Death

Regarding the Baker's Dozen: "Twelve for the Baker and one for the Devil."

(Native Americans and British Isles) A loaf of bread weighted by quicksilver and dropped into a river will float along and stop over the place where the body of a dead person is lying

(North England) It is Bad Luck to turn a loaf upside down after cutting a slice. If this is done, the breadwinner of the family will get sick.

If a loaf crumbles in your hand when you try to cut it, there will be argument and dissension in the family

If you find a hole in the center of a loaf, this is an Omen of Death

(Europe) Bread baked on Christmas Day will never grow mold

It is Good Luck to give scraps of bread to the birds

It is Bad Luck to burn a loaf of bread

If you drop a slice of bread and it lands butter-side up, it is a sign that you will receive a visitor soon

The girl who eats the last piece of bread and butter at tea time will be in line for "a handsome husband or ten thousand pounds a year"

Breasts:

(Devon) Sore breasts can be cured by going to a church at midnight, taking some lead from one of the ornamental windows, shaping it into a heart, and wearing it on a chain around the neck

Breeze:

You can raise a breeze by scratching a nail on the foremast of a boat

Bride:

Regarding the bride's ensemble: "Something old, something new, / Something borrowed, something blue." "Something old" should be her shoes or handkerchief. "Something blue" should be sky blue for Good Luck.

A bride should wear nothing colored (except the Something Blue)

A bride should be dressed in white, the symbol of innocence and purity

It is Good Luck for a bride to wear the dress her mother wore

It is Good Luck for bridesmaids to wear blue, pink, or gold

Red is Very Bad Luck

If a bride spills even a tiny drop of blood on her gown, this is an Omen of Death

Green is Bad Luck

(Ireland) Green is Good Luck

It is Good Luck to wear a silk dress

It is Bad Luck to wear a satin dress

Wearing a velvet dress will cause poverty

A dress should have no designs. Especially not birds, which are a Bad Omen, or vines, which are an Omen of Death

A veil hides the bride from evil spirits who would want to snatch her until she is safely in the protection of her new spouse

It is important to cry when the veil is lifted for the kiss, or else her married life will be full of tears

It is Bad Luck for a bride to make her own wedding dress, to try on her wedding dress before the wedding day, or if she sees herself in a full length mirror while wearing the dress

Leave off a shoe or a glove to ward off the Bad Luck if you want to look in a full length mirror

The last stitch of a bride's dress should be added just as she leaves for the church to make sure the wedding goes without a hitch

The bride carries a boquete to ensure marital happiness because flowers symbolize sex and fertility

The ribbons tied around the flowers are Good Luck, symbolizing wishes for health and happiness by the bride's friends

It is a Bad Omen for the bridal party to meet a policeman, a doctor, a lawyer, or a blind man on the way to the church

A bridal party should enter by the door they plan to leave through. It is Bad Luck if they do not

It is a Bad Omen if the bride meets a pig or a funeral party while leaving the ceremony

It is a Good Omen if she meets a black cat, a chimney sweep, or an elephant

Grey mares are the best horses to pull a bride's carriage

It is Bad Luck if the horses are troublesome or difficult to start when the couple is on board

Throwing rice or confetti on a couple bestows them fertility

Throwing a slipper at them (it symbolizes the womb) will ensure they have children

It is Bad Luck if the couple is hit by thrown rice or confetti

Present a couple with fruit to ensure fertility

(Germany) A bride is given nuts for fertility and the phrase "to go a nutting" is a euphemism for sex

The bride must always be carried over the threshold of her new home to avoid Bad Luck

(Europe and Asia) If a bride falls asleep first on her wedding night, she will Die first

Bridesmaids:

Bridesmaids and the best man are there to prevent marriage ceremonies from being attacked by enemies wishing to carry off the bride

A bridesmaid who catches the thrown bouquet will marry next

It is Very Bad Luck for a bridesmaid to stumble on the way to the alter, it will destine her to become an Old Maid

It is Bad Luck to be a bridesmaid three times. Unless she is a bridesmaid four more times after, she will never marry

It is Good Luck to have a matron of honor, because she represents the happy state of matrimony

Bridge:

(Europe) If you say goodbye to a friend on a bridge, you will never see them again

It is Bad Luck to go under a railway bridge on foot or in a car while a train is passing

Broad Beans:

Broad beans contain the souls of the dead

Accidents are most likely to happen when broad beans are in flower

The shape of a broad bean is associated with Death

Ghosts can be warded off by scattering broad beans around the house on December 31st every year and reciting, "With these beans I redeem me and mine." The spirit is said to pick up the beans and not trouble the house for the following year.

Use broad beans to tell the future by preparing three beans on Midsummer Eve. One left as it is, one half peeled, and one with the skin completely removed. They must be hidden and the person wanting to know their future must find them. The one they find first will predict what life has in store. The unpeeled bean means wealth. The half peeled bean means a comfortable life. The completely peeled bean means poverty.

Broad beans grow upside down during leap years

Brooms:

A new broom should be used to sweep something into the house before sweeping dust out or else you will sweep away your Good Luck

(England) It is Bad Luck to buy a broom in May or you will "sweep your friends away"

(Yorkshire) If a girl walks over a broomstick, she will be a mother before she is married

Never take an old broom with you to a new house or you will carry all your Bad Luck with you

A new broom, bread, and salt are necessary when moving into a new home to ensure a Happy Future

It is Bad Luck to sweep after dark, it will prevent you from getting rich

If a child picks up a broom and begins to sweep, it is a sign that unexpected guests are on the way

It is Bad Luck to step over a fallen broom

It is Bad Luck if a broom falls over as you pass it

It is a Bad Omen to borrow a broom, lend a broom, or burn a broom

(Africa) If you strike a man with a broom, he will become impotent, unless he grabs the broom and strikes back seven times

(Africa) If you strike a woman with a broom, it is Bad Omen that means she will lose her man

Bubbles:

(Britain and America) Bubbles floating on the surface of a cup of tea or coffee is a Good Omen that means the drinker will get money soon

Bucket:

It is a Good Omen for the day to pass a bucket full of liquid when you first leave the house in the morning

It is a Bad Omen for the day to pass an empty bucket when you first leave the house in the morning

Building:

It is a Terrible Omen if a construction worker is killed in an accident during the construction of a building

If a construction worker is killed in an accident during construction, it is a sign that the building will be an unhappy one and that many deaths will later occur there

It is an Even Worse Omen if the construction worker was killed by being burned to death

Burial:

(Ireland, parts of Britain) The last corpse buried in a cemetery on any given day has to watch over a the graves until the next coffin arrives

(French) The last person to be buried each year becomes a symbol of death and will be seen in the area they lived by people who are going to die within twelve months

A coffin should always be carried to the grave "with the sun", meaning from east to west, otherwise it is Bad Luck for both the living and the dead

Buttercup:

Hold a buttercup under the chin of a friend to see if they like butter. If there is a yellow glow, they do like butter.

Butterflies:

Butterflies are the souls of the dead, and are revered

(England) Unless you kill the first butterfly you see each year, you will have Bad Luck for twelve months

If the first butterfly you see in the year is yellow, that is a sign that sickness is in store

If the first butterfly you see in the year is white, that means Good Luck

(Scotland) It is a Good Omen if a golden butterfly flies near a dying person

(Ireland) A butterfly flying near a corpse means eternal happiness

It is Bad Luck to see three butterflies together at a leaf at one time

Seeing a butterfly flying at night is an Omen of Death

Buttermaking:

Throw a pinch of salt into the fire before you begin to make butter, or else the milk will not churn

(Coastal Britain) The milk will not churn until the tide is coming in

(France) The best time to make butter is at high tide

(Scotland) Churn staffs are made from rowan wood because rowan wood is feared and hated by witches, demons, evil spirits, etc

Button:

It is Bad Luck to button up clothes incorrectly. You can Reverse the Bad Luck by taking the item off and starting over again.

If you find a button, it is a sign that you will make a new friend

(America) Learn the profession of your future husband by counting the buttons on your skirt: "A doctor, a lawyer, a merchant, a chief, / A rich man, a poor man, a beggar-man, thief."

(Britain) A similar verse to the above is recited by young boys while counting pits after eating a plate of fruit to determine their future

[scorpiussage]

Peaky Blinders with a SO who’s a time traveler (from the future)

🌕Tommy

🌕One moment Tommy’s standing at the edge of the cut, smoking a cigarette, the next he watches as you materialize out of thin air right above the water.

🌕Of course he can’t just let someone drown regardless of whatever witchcraft he just witnessed, so he dives in and fishes you out.

🌕The thing he notices first is how fucking oddly you are dressed. Colors and patterns on fabrics he’s never seen before. If you have dyed hair, that’s another thing that has him speechless, how did you get your hair that color?

🌕Obviously he’s going to be demanding answers, probably with a gun drawn. If you manage to survive that initial encounter, Tommy will be glued to you from there.

🌕He has so many questions and he’s always fairly rude when he asks them. But, late at night maybe after he’s had a few too many drinks, he’ll soften up and ask you earnestly, “What is the future like?”

🌕There are a million and one things you could tell him about, most of them horrible, but you look at this man who’s been weighed down by the world and you tell him about the best parts. His eyes brighten at your words, at tales of fast cars and accepting societies and cured diseases. You give him hope that he didn’t have before, that maybe everything really will end up okay in the end.

🌕That’s how he falls in love with you.

🌹Alfie

🌹Alfie is adaptable to most situations. It’s what made him a good captain in the war. However, he admits he struggles when some person dressed so fucking oddly shows up in house saying it’s theirs.

🌹He manages to not shoot you, surprisingly, and once he’s got you sat down he starts getting the full story.

🌹He’ll demand proof, of course, because anyone can just sew weird ass clothes and claim they’re from the future, but surely there’s something that you can show him.

🌹Luckily you have your phone with you and Alfie is both mesmerized and horrified by it.

🌹“You’re telling me, yeah, that that little glass brick lets you talk to anyone in the world?”

🌹I think he’d be very delighted by the photos you’ve taken, though. Snapshots of parties with friends, selfies with your parents, beautiful pictures of your dog; all these things would almost make him tear up.

🌹He wouldn’t want to know anything else about the future, though. “Don’t want to mess nothing up by knowing.”

🌹If you were stuck there, he’d let you stay with him and he’d do his best to guide you in this time period that you don’t belong in.

🌹He might get frustrated sometimes, “It’s not like where you’re from, treacle! You’re not there anymore!” But he’d never abandon you.

⚡️Michael

⚡️You we’re hopeful that it was all a dream or that you would return to your own time. But after a few weeks it becomes clear you won’t be going back.

⚡️So you started looking for work. That’s how you meet Michael. He’s looking for a secretary to offload some of his work onto.

⚡️Despite being in the past for a few weeks, you’re still not very good at blending in and he can tell right away something’s off about you.

⚡️Maybe that’s what makes him so attracted to you, that you just aren’t like other people.

⚡️Eventually you tell him the truth about your whole harrowing journey. He might struggle to believe you, but he’ll stand by you regardless and when you mourn the life you once had, he’ll be there to comfort you.

💥Arthur

💥He is making his way home from the Garrison when he sees some asshole attacking you in an alleyway.

💥He saves you, this scared, confused and oddly dressed stranger. He takes pity on you (especially when you start crying) and he takes you home.

💥He’s not much interested in where you came from, just that you’re here now. He’s absolutely smitten with you.

💥If you do tell him you’re from the future, he’ll struggle to understand (as in the concept of time travel is just so beyond him and what he understands) But he’d never doubt a word.

🌞John

🌞He got arrested for something or another and as he’s bailing himself out, he sees you being brought in.

🌞You’d just appeared in a time that wasn’t your own and were immediately arrested for being indecently dressed.

🌞He’s delighted by your outfit (and a bit turned on if we’re being honest) and he decides to bail you out.

🌞The connect between you two is instant and magical. You talk and swear like no one he’s ever known before and he can’t get enough.

🌞You’re what he’s always been looking for and something he didn’t know he needed.

🌞The time travel thing will throw him for a loop (and he might not believe you) but your strange story won’t matter, you’ll be his forever.