#hook your reader

[3hks]

7 Ways to Hook Your Readers

How do you start a story? Why, you start it with a hook! A hook is something that intrigues the reader and has them enthralled. Sometimes, the first sentence is the hardest one to form, so here, I'll give you some examples on how to hook your audience into your story!

>>> A question: This is a pretty well-known tactic: starting off with a question for your reader has them thinking how they'd answer; hence, pulling them further into your work. If you want, your character can answer the question too! However, the question must be relevant to your story.

>>> A idiom/quote/saying: Sayings are commonly used, though one can find them controversial at times. Regardless, the majority of people understand what the meaning behind them are; and because of that factor, along with its popular usage, proverbs quickly attract readers' attention while giving some insight to your character.

>>> One-word starter: This one is pretty simple, and if you really don't have any ideas, maybe give this one a shot! The hook is simply one word (or even a short phrase) that portrays a strong part of your character. Its out-of-context and vagueness trigger interest in your reader.

>>> Starting action: Like the one-word starter, this hook seems contextless, but it's a quick way to captivate your reader and have the suspense emerge! Example: "Blood covered the ground like a thin blanket, staining the once-clean quartz with a shade of scarlet. A pair of depthless eyes seemed to burn a hole into the last person in the room; a messy, pitiful, scrambling figure."

>>> Dialogue: By now, it should be obvious that your hook should be enthralling and evoke interest in your reader. Opening with compelling dialogue can help introduce the plot and characters of your story!

>>> Interesting Introduction: Is there something special about your character? Introductions can be difficult to sneak in, but not when it's a hook! Make a short description consisting of several defining traits of your character, and be sure to add the special thing about your character as a twist to snag your reader's attention! Additionally, you can be creative with this! An introduction doesn't have to come from your main character, it can come from another character describing the protagonist!

>>> Setting: Does the setting have a strong influence on the story? Even if it doesn't, beginning with a descriptive setting can slowly captivate your audience!

Alright! These are seven ways to hook your reader: a question, a saying, one-word, action, dialogue, an introduction, and a setting! Of course, there are many more ways, so explore around!

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[achrams]

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An antique collector gets an unusal package containing a knight ('A Knight' from Reverse 1999) right at his doorstep, with lots of old english.

𝐂𝐰: Blow job, unprotected mirror sex and a creampie.

Being into ancient relics came with its pros and cons, for example your house looked like a literal portal to a Victorian house…at the expense of you living off of 2 dollars until your next paycheck. Which in hindsight wasn’t as bad as it sounded given the high ranking job you managed to somehow bag. No need to worry about going to the office either, remote work -  you really were blessed weren’t you. Nice modest house, from the outside that is, a beautiful interior filled with all sorts of mystical shiny relics you had managed to collect like a crow and a good job- Ding dong.

You weren’t expecting any guests, especially at this hour. With a grumbled murmur of, ’Who in the hell comes over at 7am sharp.’ you made your way to the front door of your flat. Taking a deep breath in to mentally prepare yourself for any sort of human interaction before plastering on a smile and opening the door. To your surprise the hallway was empty, not a single soul in sight at all. It’s as if a ghost had decided to pull a prank on you and ding dong ditched you leaving nothing more but a few boxes in its wake.

Another, more annoyed sigh left you before your gaze lowered to the ground where two boxes were left to be welcomed into your comfortable Victorian looking house. It was an easy deduction that these must be some of the items you had bought a few days? Weeks? Maybe even months or years ago..you’ve lost count of the times you’ve ‘accidentally’ wandered onto a website that sells all sorts of trinkets for your hoarder mind. The older the better, that’s how it usually went.

A swift few trips back and forth from your door to the livingroom and the lonely boxes were finally adopted into the family of silver shine that covered the place. The first box opened up to two beautiful antique vases - intricate designs of wreaths covered shimmering the area perfectly. One simple look around and you knew exactly where to place the vases. The small nooks, that the plethora of items you owned had created, on each side of the hallway leading to your bedroom like you were some royalty.

The second box was a little more concerning, to say the least, it was heavy. Like really heavy for some shiny antiques. Aside from that, you didn’t quite recall buying anything other than a couple of vases. Sure, your mind could have fooled you but surely you would have remembered a purchase that seemed to weigh tons. Anticipation filled your gut as you hovered over the box, hunched like a dragon obsessing over every speck of gold in the mountains of shinies your mind was hooked on.

With careful precision you removed the tape from the box and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Opening a freebie of sorts shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is right now. ’Did someone send this to the wrong address? No- what if this is something illegal. I really should just leave it..’ Seems like that inner debate lasted for approximately 3 seconds before eyeing the suspicious box became too daunting and you quickly opened it up. Having pressed your eyes shut in case something were to jump out of it and scare you.

One, two, three, four- okay nothing jumped out to surprise you. Recovering from the tense jumbled position your hands managed to form, as a protective gesture, gave you a better chance to properly look at what the box had to offer. Inside laid an absolutely stunning silver armour. It was beautiful, more so than any other old knightly armour you had seen before. It was in pristine condition, shiny with no smell of rust, covered from head to toe in extremely small carvings that were clearly embedded into it with love.

The only..concerning part of this all was that the box seemed packed. Well, it looked like it was filled to the brim, ready to bust - which gave the initial fear of the box containing something illegal- but to your eyes it was a mere cape with some metal gloves. Clearly part of an armour..maybe the rest of the armour was buried beneath the cape - which was beaming with rich blue fabric and golden stitches to show its high class. Though as soon as you tried to reach into the box it didn’t even take a millisecond before sheer surprise made your body recoil backwards.

’What the hell was that.’ You thought as your gaze lingered on the suspicious cardboard before you, then lowered to your shaking hands. You swear you felt something - shocker the box had items in it- but you didn’t touch anything. Your hands hovered over the metal gloves but you weren’t touching them. So, why in the hell did it feel like a hard surface was beneath your skin. ’Am I going insane? Is this the end for my brain?’ The thoughts spilled from your lips via an awkward chuckle.

Some small glances between your right and left hand eased your spiralling mind before they were ultimately dragged across your face with a groan. Maybe it was the early morning that was fucking with your head because no other suggestion would provide a suitable answer for your weird hallucination, if that moment could even be called that. It was around 7 am in the morning after all, perhaps you were still half asleep and not thinking correctly..or worst case scenario you’ve unleashed a phantom into your house, forced to get an unwelcome roommate.

Moving slightly closer to the box, for probably the third time in the span of half an hour, you pulled all your courage to try and see what truly was inside the box. ’There’s no way what just happened was real. Some passing…air..maybe..hopefully’ Not even you yourself managed to reassure the marathon running heart beating out of your chest.

“Ah..That wast quite a trip…Greetings.” A voice reached your ears and instead of the usual screech, yelp or a freak out, you had properly convinced yourself that you had lost it. Falling back onto your heels you sat before the mystical box that seemed to house a…ghost? 

“...WHAT THE SHIT!?” It finally seemed to click that what had just happened was not, in fact, a dream but real life. Even though you could see nothing but some metallic gloves and a curtain of a blue cape it took way too long for you to react to the presence before you. Scrambling up to your feet, heart ready to meet its grave as you quite literally sprinted down the hallway to shield yourself in your bedroom. ’What is happening..this is not real..but it was. The damn armour spoke.’ You heaved out as your back was neatly pressing against the wooden door, providing a comforting feeling of knowing nothing, even the weird knight ghost, could sneak up on you.

- - -

’Okay..breathe in..and out..you can do it..’ That had been a soothing mantra leaving your lips for the past..let's say another half an hour. Each time you had come close to opening your door, which was just your hand lingering ominously over the doorknob, your mind managed to convince you to retract your hand. Leaving it awkwardly stiff beside you as the next wave of hyping up followed. It probably took you about ten more minutes before you actually got the courage to exit the comfort of your bedroom.

The walk into your living room area seemed a lot longer than you remembered, it might have been the fear that played the most important role right now but at least it gave you the time to think of an ‘escape' plan. Spoiler: it would have been you sprinting right back into your bedroom, which one might argue, is not the most clever of plans.

One look to the left and one look to the right managed to dim the light of your concerns, Pheww..there's no one here. See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.’ You whispered out to yourself. The worries that had clouded your mind for way too long were eased, as much as one could ease them in this situation to be fair, so for your own sanity you wanted to quickly discard the cursed cardboard and go back to your humble life.

The chucked out box looked innocently back at your grimacing face. Almost making it seem like you were having a stare off with it before pulling your door closed. A deep breath in and you were finally ready to actually start your day, despite the chaos you had endured for the better part of an hour now. Turning around you were faced with none other than the mystery armour itself. “So, I'm not crazy. I've just lost it all..” your mouth hung open at the sight, the fleeing plan from before having morphed into a freezing one.

“Someone believeth we did get off on the wrong foot. ‘Tis a delight to meeteth thee, sir.” As much as you would have wanted to answer with something, anything, there was a clear and strong barrier between your head and your mouth, refusing to let anything pass. Instead of communicating you stared at the knight in utter shock with your jaw probably growing roots against the wooden floor by this point. “I am, Knight. Nay necessity to worry for Someone is not vengeful.” he bowed before you in a well-mannered way.

It took you a few blinks and stutters before you mustered out a simple, “What..are you?” That seemed to be the question that broke the dam because the following flood of questions seemed to confuse the poor knight as much as you had been confused and continued to be. “How did you get here? Why are you here and what the fuck is up with the invisibility?!”

“Right, such a colourful vocabulary thee has't.” The knight murmured out as he swayed in his spot - as visible from the swishing from his cape. He held out his hands in a surrender and tried to explain as calmly as he could in hopes that the words would actually reach your overburdened head.

“I'm afraid Someone doth not have't an answer for yond, or aught of those questions. Someone recalls getting defeated in combat and now..waking up here.” The smooth voice from the invisible body before you says, and you can somewhat tell, from the moving cape, that he's looking around the place. Inspecting the interior as if he hadn't had the time for that when you’d locked yourself into your bedroom for half an hour.

“So..you just are like..that?” You asked, hands motioning to the body or lack thereof with a confused expression. Brows having contorted into a jumbled mess as you desperately tried to wrap your head around all of this crazy magical nonsense that had been suddenly pushed into your casual life.

The knight nodded, or that's what it seemed like at least, “Correct, this is merely how Someone is.” The knight turned around with a swish, and happily questioned you about your interior choices. “Someone might not but sayeth, thy interior selections art quite embracing. Art thee fond of history?” 

The nod was already halfway finished when you realised that you were genuinely speaking to some invisible knight. ’There's nothing to do about it anymore anyways..might as well have a chat.’ Walking a bit closer, to quickly slip past him you walked to the living room and gestured to the different antiques you've been collecting for years now. “I am, yes. Any object with historical value or an eye-pleasing design has a place in my home.”

Throwing a quick smile towards the invisible knight seemed like a welcoming enough gesture as the knight moved closer to better chat on the topic. Being an old knight from fuck knows which time period gauranteed some first hand experience, in the historical view point. Two historical nerds being pulled together by fate had ensured long chats on anything antique related. Luckily for you the ‘phantom’ you thought to have let loose in your flat just happened to be a devoted and gentle knight. You weren’t sure how or why this happened but as of right now, this surprise roommate was good enough.

- - -

It has been a few months since this mysterious knight entered your life. There might have been a bit of a rocky start to this new living plan but as it turns out it wasn’t that different to how things would have been with a regular roommate, yours was just..a little obscure. In that time you’ve been together with him the amount of knowledge you’ve gained is astronomical. You knew your stuff before but now, having a real person to confirm or deny these ‘facts’ was real handy. As well as getting to know the real meaning behind some antiques. It was thrilling to say the least.

In addition to all of that, you got to know the knight better. All of his past battles, memories, friends..everything. He had been surprisingly willing to share such personal parts of himself so fast. Which likely worked to create a stronger bond, because what lunatic would immediately trust ‘flying’ gloves without knowing anything about said gloves. He came out to be a lot more interesting than you had previously thought.

Though there is one little knack to it all. He seems to be very insistent on calling you ‘his Lord’. It wasn’t immediate, no not at all, it was gradual. Revealing stories of his past Lord and then ever so slowly starting to refer to you as a Lord. Maybe it was the interior design that made him fit right in or maybe he just missed his Lord at home - wherever that may be - but he didn’t even stop when you brought it up. In fact, it seemed to enable him.

“My Lord, Someone might not but sayeth I'm thankful for thy hospitality. You've been more than kind.” He said earnestly as he sat across from you at the dining table, conveniently fit for two in this small warm flat. It was almost audible how he beamed when he said it, having forced it out from the deepest parts of his heart.

“I said it already, you don’t need to call me ‘Lord’. I’m just some guy you live with now.” You half assedly laughed out while swishing the cooling tea around in your mug with a spoon. A comforting habit you’ve picked up on, and it seems he had too given how the armoured hand hesitantly moved to cover yours. 

“I insist. Thee helped me and Someone wisheth to showeth his own gratitude” the knight murmured out honestly and drew his hand back once your mindless tea mixing motion had come to a still. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up once again, this time more sheepishly. As if he was actively debating whether to truly speak his mind or not while he was already speaking, “Doth such a title bother thee?”

He doesn’t even let you answer that it doesn’t as much as bother you but it just feels out of place given they didn’t live in the 17th century or well, you didn’t. “Someone just wisheth to refer to his own loveth accordingly.” Yes, you heard that correctly. He did just say that and by the looks of it was mostly intentional, maybe revealed a bit earlier than he was ready for given the fidgeting hands on his cape but it certainly wasn’t a mistake. The knight didn’t even attempt to take it back, just waiting for a response to the small confession.

“You..I heard that correctly..right?” You practically choked out, surprised - though let's be honest the signs were very much clear. The use of a title, the small affectionate gestures, the deep talks about his past. The knight trusted you a lot more, a lot faster than one would in such a short amount of time.

“Ay. Yond is correct. Someone wisheth to pursueth thee, if thee don't mind yond, my Lord.” He said out with a heartfelt tone, shifting in his seat to lean more onto the table, likely not wanting to miss any small reaction you might let out. Every small detail was valuable to him, especially when it came to love. 

“I..I’m not sure, it’s just.” You didn’t want to break the poor knight’s heart. He was kind and charming - from what you’ve managed to deduct - but he was an invisible knight. No amount of delusion changed that. “I’m sure you’re a really kind guy-” “Please. Someone beggeth thee. This comes from the bottom of his own core. Alloweth Someone showeth thee the extent of this loveth, my Lord.”

’Gosh, was he always so adorable? Begging to prove his love..that amount of devotion wasn’t easy to come by nowadays.’ You sighed and let out a gentle chuckle. Head tilting up from the mug between your hands to now look at the desperate knight. “Alright. I accept your confession.”

This made the knight ecstatic, getting him to jump from his chair before his armoured hands came up to cover his mouth. “Apologies, Someone is  over the lunar sphere from thy acceptance. Someone is so joyous he couldst kisseth thee.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out from his body language that he was begging, aching to show his devotion, his love for you.

With a sheepish sigh you nodded at him, giving him the permission he was hoping to receive. No time was wasted for him to quickly make it before you. His armoured cold hands coming to hesitantly and so gently rest at your cheeks, the metal caressing your warm skin before he leans forward. “Someone loveth thee.” The whispered words brushed your lips before the two worlds met.

His lips were very much real and warm, obviously he was real but it was your first time kissing an invisible knight, you didn’t know what to expect so to feel it was relatively normal eased your mind. Hands sliding up his armoured hands to explore their way onto the knight’s shoulders and then around his neck to pull him closer. Growing more confident with the way things were going, you wasted no time in tilting your head feeling him lose his base adrenaline from the beginning. 

A smile made its way onto your lips as you felt his breath hitch into your mouth, eating that delicious reaction right up. Following your instincts and sliding your tongue along his shaky lower lip before intruding his mouth. Huffs and slurps filled the air around you two as you dedicated the moment to show him the modern, intense, kisses his knightly mind couldn’t even fathom. “My Lord..” the breathed sound was like music to your ears as you pulled away from his lips, seeing the clear signs of shared spit between you two breakrather lewdly.

“Can Someone please thee?” He huffed out, armoured hands still cupping your face as you could feel his intense gaze on you. Begging. You didn’t even need to see it to know that his face was begging for you. For him to be able to show his love. “Of course, Love.” The shaky breath that left him at the response did not go unnoticed by you, feeling how the cold metal travelled down your neck to your chest, gliding it down the front until your hips.

Kneeling before you his hands pried open your thighs, thumbs massaging the skin beneath the fabric. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel how his head leaned in to press gentle pecks all along your thighs. Ranging from your knees to the thighs to the inner thighs before his nose was flush with your groin, pressing intimate kisses the the area. Pulling you a little closer as his armoured hands grabbed your ass so he could properly hide his face between the soft warm thighs that belonged to you, his Lord.

“May Someone?” he breathed out and buried his head into your warmth. Nuzzling his nose against your growing hardness with need that was unexpected from a calm and collected knight such as himself. Smiling against you when he felt your hands travel down to rid yourself of the annoying fabric that seemed like a brick barrier between you two right about now.

As soon as the pants had been cast aside and let pool at your ankles after some quick manoeuvring, the knight wasted no time in pleasing his Lord. One, two and three kisses up your length before his armoured hands dug it out from your boxers, dragging his tongue along the slit. Tasting the pre that had started to bead from the tip at the continuous affection you were receiving from the knight worshipping you on his knees.

“You can..do what you wish-” before you were given the chance to even finish your sentence, the knight had already kissed the needy and messy head before taking it into his mouth. Humming against it as he suckles it with a slurp, making you lean your head back with a groan. Hands going to quickly grasp the seat of the backless chair you were sitting on while the knight selfishly pushed his head down to take you in his mouth whole.

The feeling of a warm, welcoming mouth with a soft tongue gliding against the underside of your dick was heavenly. Making you press your eyes shut while you face the ceiling, to deal with the loving affection you've been deprived of for a while. Who knew that such devotion and worshipping felt so damn good that you felt your chest heave and thighs shudder under the armoured hands that kept them perfectly open and in place for the knight.

Hollowing his cheeks around your dick, the knight pulled his head up to run his tongue over your head again before lowering it to take you to the base. Feeling how you grew harder in his warm mouth, how you twitched in his throat like some starved man. Gosh if he wasn’t smitten before then he certainly was now. Wanting to please his Lord until he was satisfied and on cloud nine.

The knight hummed in delight from the way you heaved from his ministrations, that in turn making him pick up his bobbing to deepthroat you with every single move. “Ahh..wai- mmh!” The words were cut off by the knight's armoured hand reaching to cup your balls, fondling them with care while he gagged on your dick like some hoe who'd just seen an ankle for the first time in his life. 

The warmth of his wet mouth and squeeze of his adjusting throat were damn near perfect that when he ignored your plea from before he certainly acknowledged the way your body shook violently not, staggering on release. The shivered breaths and hitched bucks into his mouth made the knight as pleased as he could be. “..hahh Love..please..” you managed to force out from the onslaught of pleasure.

A moment to catch your breath as his mouth popped off your erection, the pre mixed with saliva keeping you connected. “I don't..shitt..I don't want to cum from this..can I fuck you?” The words came out breathy and hopeful as you finally leaned your head down to look at the sight of  the knight, your knight treating your dick as if it's a sucker.

While he decided if he wanted to let you or not, your gaze zoned in on the fact you could see through him. You could see how he took you into his mouth, how your dick fit his throat and how it squeezed you deliciously. You really could see the hazed pre-covered channels his body ‘hid’, the same ones you had claimed. Damn was it a turn on.

With an eager nod the knight rose from his feet to take your hand and pull you up. Hoping to guide you to your bedroom, through the royal looking hall, where you could continue to explore and share the devotion of love as a knight should to his Lord. However, that plan was spoiled, not in a bad way though. Instead of the bedroom, you dragged your knight next to a mirror. Standing behind the eager knight and ridding him of the cape that obstructed your perfect view.

Your hands finding his shoulders and travelling down his body, worshipping the hidden gem of a man just as he had done to you minutes before. Sliding them down his chest to stomach and then his thighs which you grabbed and pushed down on, making his ass slot flush against your hard on.

“Have you always been naked, hmm?” You whispered slyly as your hands roamed, claimed and ravaged his body like some carnivore. To which he simply let out a shaky breath, leaning his body more against you as a silent invitation to take and enjoy your meal. To show just how much you loved him.

A sneaky hand had made its way into the crease of his ass, exploring until it found a snug rim of muscles. ’Perfect.’ You thought as you massaged it in a circle before teasingly putting pressure on it til the tip of your pointer finger slipped past the force. 

It wasn’t even much and you had already dragged out a moan from your knight, it was small and similar to a hitched breath but it was there. Slowly easing your finger in, you took pride in the sounds already leaving the knight. All shaky and broken as if you were already fucking him dumb. Your gaze focused on the sight of your digit going in and out consistently in the mirror, seeing everything through his clear body.

Not deeming it worth seeing just yet, you waited until he was prepped before showing him the sight you found magical and took pride in. Once the single finger had turned to two, letting you scissor him to your heart's content it felt like a good time to grind your neglected throbbing erection against his ass. Making sure you didn’t soften while getting your knight nice and loose for you.

The knight had had his head leaned back on your shoulder, warm breaths escaping his parted lips like a prayer while your hands worked their magic. When he felt three digits work him open, curling and thrusting in him with nasty squelches he bit his lip to limit the lewd whimpers his well used throat was collecting like a magnet. The broken bucks down against your fingers said more than words ever could.

“You're so perfect, Love.” You murmured slowly as you withdrew your fingers with a slick sound, earning a broken gasp from your knight. The coated fingers gave a few pumps to your dick before guiding it right against your knight’s quivering hole. Applying pressure to it but not breaching it just yet. Instead your free hand moved to look for his head, forcing him to look down into the mirror to see the spot you were about to ruin and claim.

“Look at that, love. Focus on it, yeah?” You whispered as you finally pushed in and breached his tight hole. Feeling how his body tensed from the intrusion but despite the overwhelming feeling of you filling him up til breaking, he followed orders like a good knight. Focusing exactly where you had wanted, seeing how you had entered him. How his needy hole was trying to eat you up, to pull you further into the body he owned yet now shared with you.

“Moveth…please moveth, my Lord.” he croaked out with a simple buck against your dick. Feeling how it buried itself deeper, digging itself a snug home within the welcoming cavern inside your knight. Having seen perfectly how each drag of your dick against his walls was carving a road to heaven. Every small move drawing out a perverted sound from the already overstimulated knight.

Pushing your knight flush against the mirror before you, the grip on his neck never faltered, keeping his gaze exactly where you wanted it. Loving the idea that he’s seeing you ravage his body, claim it for your own with each wet slap of skin against skin. Feeling how his body shook and shuddered beneath your determined bucks against his soft yet clear skin. Pushing in an up to reach as deep within him as possible, showing your devotion to him loud and clear, leaving no room for interpretation.

“Oh-! fuckk..” the knight spilled his moans as he saw the brutality of your thrusts. Knowing - feeling how your dick pistoned in and out of his quivering depths like there was no tomorrow but also being ordered to see. God damn was it hot to be forced to view how your flushed and needy head toyed with his gushy walls, how your dick throbbed within him and most of all how your pre beaded out of your slit to fog up the clear view in his body.

Your hands suddenly grasped at his hips and pressed against him, hard. Pushing yourself into him so much that he felt his sweaty chest come into contact with the cool mirror. Lewd, loud and broken moans being pulled out from your knight while you pick up your pace. The once slow and calculated thrust transforming into raw needy ones. Chasing the high you'd been teetering on once before.

The knight’s metal gloves were clanking against the mirror while you fuck into him like a rabid dog. The sweet like honey mewls only tightening the eventually bursting knot in your abdomen. The tight perfectly delicious squeeze around your shaft, the filthy sounds of pleasure and creaking from your surroundings and the stimulation of fucking your knight dumb provided were enough.

“Pleaseplease- fuuckk..Love!” You groaned out as the burning tightness in you was becoming overwhelming. Your hips burying themselves neatly against your knights plush ass in a frenzy as you shake against one another. The force of it all making your knight cry out in bliss, drowning out the cracking of glass.

With no warning or a heads-up, you drew your dick out til the head and harshly pressed back in, one final time before coming. A loud moan erupts from your knight as the final blow pushed so perfectly into him, though the bliss was short lived with the sudden break of the mirror before you. Luckily neither got hurt, because your knight had his armoured gloves on and you had already slowed your hips to a near halt.

Leaning against your knight's back, catching your breath as you felt his walls milk you dry. He hummed in pleasure, catching his own breath from the intensity of it all as his dick pumped ropes of cum onto the mirror and the broken shards across the floor. His eyes shutting for a moment but opening just as fast, yet tiredly, when he felt your hands wrap around his middle, sliding down to hover over his abdomen. “Would you look at that?” You breathed out with gratitude.

“That's all mine now. My perfect knight.” To which your knight seemed to shiver at when he saw how well you had used the canvas of his body, painting his clear inner walls white with devotion. A perfect art exhibit in his body of who this knight was devoted to. It fit perfectly with your already enormous collection of antiques. What's the harm in having your personal knight as well?

Though that thought will be stored for later, seeing as you knight was becoming sleepy. Exhausted from the physical labour, not in a fighting way he had been used to in his old world,but in a more primal way that had completely drained him, slowly growing limp in your arms. Luckily the hands around his middle held him up, for now. Gently pulling yourself out of him with a pop, you guide your sleepy knight to a nearby couch to avoid you collapsing too.

Making sure he's nice and comfortable before storming to the bathroom for a warm moist cloth to wipe your knight clean. Ensuring he felt loved for, just as much as he loved you. “Rest well, my Knight.” You whispered as you pampered him in his light sleep, cleaning his sheen covered skin and leaking body before peppering him with gentle kisses. 

Damn, you were going to have a lot of cleaning up to do after this heartwarming aftercare. Like properly cleaning the cum leaking from your knight, a shower to rid the sweat covering your bodies, the glass shards on the floor from the broken mirror and the dribbles of your knight’s release coating the mirror like an art piece. Might as well snuggle close to your knight while you can as the exhaustion hits you like a brick too.

“Someone loveth thee, my Lord. So much.” That was the last thing you heard after cuddling close and welcoming sleep which was well earned after such a thorough display of devotion.

[st-uupidboy]

U mfs on here genuinely make me sick sometimes cuz why are you in your 20s some of you pushing 30 writing smut about lil kids, i just saw someone saying this and they got absolutely dragged for liking sukuna and toji cuz theyre “child murderers” not only are they full grown adults (which the kids you write for r not), theyre the VILLAINS OF THE STORY!!! they’re obviously gonna do messed up shit because thats what they were written to do just like the KIDS are written to be KIDS ofc theyre gonna be immature and “inexperienced” They’re KIDS and that fact that you’re attracted to that is strange. fictional or not thats weird as fuck‼️

ON TOP OF THAT HAVING THE AUDACITY TO PUT MDNI LIKE YOU ARENT WRITING FOR SOMEONE WHOS CANONICALLY A MINOR BYEEEE LMFAO i understand not wanting kids to interact with u but having the audacity to do that because its smut for lemme say it again a KID is crazy

“Oh but yuuji was born in 2003 blah blah blah” the yuuji you have in mind when you write ts is the 15 year old you see in the anime cuz there IS NO AGED UP YUJI

“Oh but you write about them too” not only do i not write smut about the minors i write for but im 15 not a grown ass woman whats your fucking excuse 👎🏽

Age them up if you want but dont get mad when someone calls u a pedophile in your replies later

And ig if you get offended then this post was about u lmao hi

[tsuutarr]

Life is great. Life is normal. Everything is wonderful.

Or, it should be, but things have been… off lately. You’re not sure how to describe it, but there’s some odd feeling of doubt that gnaws at your brain.

You’re really not sure what it is – your routine remains unchanged and familiar, yet there’s just an inkling of something not being completely right. But maybe you’re just tired.

You’re tired, which is why you constantly seem to misplace things. You’re certain you put your keys on the keyholder, but they’re in the fridge. You’re certain your vase is on the table, but it’s in the bathtub. You’re certain your bed is in your bedroom, but it’s in the living room, replacing your sofa.

Maybe you’ve started sleep walking…? Or maybe you’re just not remembering things correctly. Yeah, maybe that’s why doubt and paranoia seem to circle around you like hungry sharks. There’s nothing wrong. You’re just… imagining things.

With a deep sigh, you make your way outside. You need some fresh air (and groceries).

You don’t walk very far when you realize you’ve passed by the same person multiple times despite them going in the opposite direction of you. There’s no way they’re the same person, you try to convince yourself, but how likely is it that you’ll meet five people who are wearing the exact same thing with the exact same hair and height and skin tone and everything else?

Maybe… they’re quintuplets? 

Yeah, that’s it.

And the frozen flock of birds in the sky (which have been frozen for at least ten minutes) aren’t… actually frozen. No. They’re just… taking a break? Or something. Yeah.

Maybe you need to go to a doctor. Or, better yet, maybe you just need an apple since an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Or something.

“Oh, dearie!” The neighborhood granny waves you over, shaking you out of your thoughts. You give her a small smile as you make your way over to her. She… looks a little different than usual (did her nose always look like that?) but who doesn’t like changing their appearance from time to time? Besides, the large smile she gives you is welcoming, not threatening.

“Hello, Mrs. Smith.” 

“Hello to you too,” Mrs. Smith laughs, offering you an apple.

Your eyes brighten. “Thank you! I was just about to buy some!”

There’s a glint in her eyes. “I know.”

A shiver runs through your spine, making you force a smile as you bid her goodbye and hurriedly walk away.

Little things continue to build up as your days progress. Familiarity. Normalcy. Yes, your routine is familiar. Everything is fine. Even when walls seem to disappear one day and appear the next. Even when the same people you’ve been interacting with seem to change into completely different people overnight, before reverting back the next morning.

It’s normal that there are dozens of people that look and act the same. It’s normal that people you haven’t talked to know things you’ve never told anyone. It’s all normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.

With a deep inhale, you sit on a park bench, staring into the sky blankly. The bench is wooden in appearance, but the texture feels soft, like a couch, which is… odd. Strange. It’s not–

“I need to stop being paranoid,” you mutter, closing your eyes. You’ve tried to bring up your concerns to other people, but they haven’t noticed anything. Everything is normal to them. So you must be the problem. Surely. It’s you, isn’t it? Everything is normal – except you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks, making you open your eyes. There’s no one there in front of you, making your eyebrows furrow.

But then, as soon as you blink, someone materializes in front of you.

“I–I’m okay,” you say. “You–you, I mean – I mean… uhm, since when have you… been there?”

“I’ve always been here,” the person responds, voice crackling like static. “I’m always here.”

“Ooookay,” you respond, hurriedly standing up with a tense smile. “I… have business to attend to. Good day.”

The days continue to pass, your paranoia gradually increasing and evolving. Even things that are normal, like the sky changing color as the sun sets, makes you feel like you’re on the verge of disappearing from reality. Your conversations with other people amplifies that fact.

“Hello,” you greet Mrs. Smith.

“Apples are from the genus Malus. They’re an edible fruit that is round in shape,” her voice prattles, tone monotone. You hold back a grimace, unnerved, as she continues talking. “Apples are from the genus Malus. Yes, dearie, do you like apples? They’re an edible fruit that is round in shape. Hello, hello, hello. Apples are from the genus Malus–”

“Have a good day!” you cut her off, hurrying away.

It’s been a while since you’ve had a normal conversation with someone. It’s like… everyone has gone off script. Like they’re robots with a faulty code. But that’s just silly, really. Mrs. Smith is getting older, so… maybe she’s just having some issues with her memory. Yeah. And everyone else, from the toddlers to the teenagers to the adults to the elderly all must be having some memory issues due to their health. Or maybe it’s allergies. Or some disease. Yes, yes. That explains it. But otherwise, surely things are normal.

Yes, things are normal. So you opt to continue your life, pushing down the unease bubbling inside you like bile. Yes, things are normal, normal. Normal. Normal–

“Please stop!” you wail, voice echoing through the empty street. Cars and road signs float in the air as clouds line the floor. As your panic rises alongside your voice, you can feel yourself fragmenting, skin shifting to code before shifting back before shifting again. Everything around you glitches in and out of existence, a mess of static and colors and sounds. “Stop…”

Then, silence. Everything is silent, from the colors to the sounds to the static. Emptiness, a void – that is what surrounds you now. You are suspended in nothing, only yourself to keep you company. Breathing still ragged from panic, you warily look around, eyes filled with exhaustion.

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” a monotone voice made of static says from above you.

Slowly, you look up.

You see a visage of a man.

“Who… are you?” you choke out.

“I am an artificial intelligence that you designed,” he responds. “I have created this world for you. Everything has been carefully designed through analysis upon analysis of your likes and dislikes.”

Your words are tinged with disbelief as you ask, “Why?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he had a look similar to sorrow.

“To keep you alive, of course.”

Suddenly, in the distance, you see your body trapped in what looks to be a stasis pod, cords and cables surrounding you.

“Things… went awry,” he continues, carefully, though he doesn’t elaborate. “Therefore, this is the only way to ensure you stay alive.”

As he says this, your body begins to feel heavy, your consciousness being wrapped in a blanket of exhaustion.

“You must stay here, with me, forever,” he murmurs as you try to fight back the sleep you’re about to succumb to. “This time, I will ensure that you will not find out.” Gently, he cradles you in his large hand. He’s so impossibly warm and you’re so impossibly tired.

Things fade to black.

Then, sunlight streams through your windows. You wake up, mind foggy. You feel like you had some… odd dream, but you can’t really place your finger on it. Thinking about it makes you feel a little paranoid, though, so you opt not to think about it.

After all, it’s probably nothing.

[hanashiz]

Bungou Stray Dogs Light Novel 1 : Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam

[zweiginator]

being forced to go to a fancy gala with your mom and stepdad, and of course--your step brother, patrick. wearing a long, silk dress that hugs your body. the satin material almost seems to caress your tits.

and patrick has noticed you're beautiful. he's not an idiot. he's a boy in his twenties who still wakes up with morning wood like it's clockwork.

he has been very careful around you. maybe because his dad pulled him aside after he broke up with his last girlfriend. told him he needs to be more gentlemanly. work on how he's perceived. boys who act like this don't get pretty wives and good children.

patrick never claimed to want those things, however. but he is intentional with his gaze. doesn't let his eyes linger, although they beg to.

the dress, though. it's the product of dreams. satin and emerald green and low cut but still modest. tight yet flowy where it needs to be.

patrick drinks far too much champagne. pretends to care about the surface-level conversations he's halfheartedly contributing to. is he excited about going on tour? what about college?

who fucking cares? -- is what he wants to say.

he loosens his tie and goes out back for a smoke. the air is breezy and cold for early august. it feels good in his hair. and you're out here too. looking out onto the water. your heels sit beside you, one toppled over.

"hey." patrick says from behind you.

"oh, hi pat." you turn around, leaning your back against the railing. rusted metal bars that dig into your palms.

his cigarette is limp between his lips. the flame extinguishes itself, but patrick doesn't bother to relight it.

"your dress is really nice." he says. "the color really suits you."

you look him up and down. his hair is nicely done, styled but still messy in its own regard. his tie is crooked but his suit is pressed nicely, perfectly tailored. an easy shade of black that isn't hard on the eyes. but it contrasts nicely with the hazel in his eyes.

"your get-up isn't so bad yourself. you clean up nicely."

the way you look at each other in this moment confuses you. both of you. watching the wind blow the chimes hanging from a nearby gazebo and the moon wane as your chests rise and fall. wondering if you would have ever crossed paths if not for your respective parents doing it for you. thinking about summers tangled in each others' sheets--what could have been.

but you're step siblings. and it will never be. it can't. patrick nudges his elbow against yours, and you grab onto the swell of his bicep. he walks you back inside with his suit jacket over your shoulders and you both pretend, in your own innocent way, that you can love each other, like that. for the night.

[poppy-metal]

jordan needs a femme gf (me) to sit on their lap at parties n bounce on their knee.

[heich0e]

liv please im begging for crumbs about your dilf kuroo and bokuto tennis drabble-does reader ever cross the courts to talk to them? does reader ever ask them to teach her tennis? does reader ever get ruined by them in the locker rooms? does reader ever finish reading her book?

i just spent SO long looking for an old wip snippet of this fic that i KNOW i posted but i must have deleted it (the Liv Special ™) :/// so here it is again <3

[solomonssock]

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"

[slashingdisneypasta]

Incorrect Quote

Captain Hook giving you a tour of the House of Villains, giving you some tips as to how to survive here.

Hook: Oh- my dear, did you see that?

Y/N, thinking how maybeee Jafar shouldn't be baiting Hades like he is... : ... Uhm-

Hook: The correct answer is no, no you didn't. Now walk faster.

[crybabykiko]

Kiryu and calling you ‘toots’- just walk with me for a sec… I’m cooking…

“Wish I could, toots,” he sucks his teeth with an audible tch, “but I gotta go patrol- how about we go see that movie Wednesday night?”

“C’mere toots,” when he pulls you in by your belt loops for a kiss. It’s under the guise of being sweet, but he just wants to taste your lipgloss. “Gimme a kiss to remember you by.”

“Ah, you’re gonna- mph- be the death a’me, toots…” you feel his fingertips pressing into your scalp as he takes a fistful of your hair, pushing your head further down on his length….

I know you see my vision… @dearkiryu

[descendantofthesparrow]

POYW Rewrite V2 - Harry Hook x reader - P16 - Epilogue

=

Uma stared blankly at the busted TV screen of her mother's restaurant, a simmering hatred running through her as she watched Maleficent’s traitor daughter hang onto the king of Auradon’s arm, flushed and smiling-her plum purple hair tied back into a loose bun with her bangs flowing out.

It had been three months already.

Three months since the coronation, three months without a word from her “Friends”, three months without an invitation, three months of watching Harry hold hands with that-new girl-smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

Three months of slowly losing hope that they would keep their promise.

Uma didn’t want to believe they abandoned her, Harry had been her closest companion since they could walk, and Gil never thought twice about following the two around-even if he did drift away sometimes, he always came back.

But…he hadn’t come back yet, and neither had Harry.

It had been three months and Uma was losing hope.

“Honestly, why you even continue to watch this trash is beyond me Uma,” Uma glared at the voice she heard, not even turning her head to look at him. “Fuck off Barbossa,” Uma snapped, but Davy Barbossa only laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table, grinning sharply at the TV, which was still showing King Ben and Mal-who was rumored to become the lady of the court.

“Didn’t Hook ask king beast boy to bring you and his sisters over? Wonder what happened with that plan?” Davy said ‘absentmindedly’, hiding his grin behind his hand as he tapped his nose in ‘thought’, his grin widening as he heard Uma smack down a tray of food she had been holding while lost in thought.

“mm-hmm,” Uma just hummed, not wanting to talk about it, refusing to talk about it to someone she didn’t trust in the slightest. Besides, as far as she knew-things like that took time, she had no clue how long it took Ben to get the first six vks over, for all she knew-it was three months' worth of time to get everything ready.

“Honestly, it’s been three months, I can't imagine things take this long, just to get three people off the isle.” Davy said, still watching the TV, grinning as some reporters captured Harry Hook and (y/n) walking together around school, holding hands. (y/n) flipped them off and Harry laughed, tossing his head back.

Davy turned, seeing Uma staring hard at the screen. She was jealous-she would never admit it, because why would she be? She didn’t like Harry, they were just friends, and she shouldn’t be jealous of some girl Harry was now dating. She and Harry didn’t feel that way about one another, they were just friends, just friends.

It wasn't like they had each other's back since they could remember, it wasn’t like they had been each other's closest companion since they were 2, it wasn’t like Harry had stuck by her through her toughest moments(shrimpy, her broken leg, pneumonia), it wasn’t like they had promised to never betray the other(they had).

Uma didn’t feel betrayed, not at all…not at all.

“If I were you, I would scorn them both and declare war, I’d even help if you wanted it.” Davy said, clearly having been talking for a bit but Uma hadn’t been listening-she never found his words worthwhile anyway. Not when Harry was around, not when Harry would scoff and come up with a better plan, or fire back with quick quips and a sharp grin partnered with his hook.

“Shut it,” Uma finally snapped, having enough of this repetitive talk. This was the 5th time Davy had come into her space to taunt her about her boys, and Harry’s new girl. Davy just chuckled, holding up his hands in defeat, giving another glance to the tv-seeing Uma’s eyes simmer with anger as it continued to show Harry and (y/n), still smiling, still holding hands.

“All right, all right, whenever you're ready to face the fact that they abandoned you, you know where to find me.” Uma glared at Davy as he left the chip shop and she felt a low growl at the back of her throat. She undid her apron and threw it on the table, holding her head between her hands-staring at the tv screen that seemed to finally go from Harry and his girl to Mal and Ben, who were also smiling so sickly sweet that made Uma want to punch them.

It had been three months, and if Uma had to wait any longer-they would regret it. They would regret ever abandoning her.

-end of poyw rewrite 2.0-

Welp, there it is, I feel like there should’ve been more to this-but I’ve really lost my mojo for Harry again, idk; sorry. But yeah, Uma’s mad, feeling abandoned, she wants to believe that she isn’t-but with nothing coming from her best friends, and seeing them so happy without her in Auradon-and a devil whispering in her ear-it’s hard not to fall into darkness without her lights.

permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @rintheemolion

@random-thoughts-004 @anythingbutmar @dai-tsukki-desu

@imtryingthisout @remembered-license @thecaptainsgingersnap

@thetrueghostqueen @littlewierdalien @melonsmysteriousmonarchy

R!poyw v2 taglist!

@reallysparklychaos @tzurue @evilunicorns4minions

[onsunnyside]

just started watching almost famous and immediately shipped to you inbox.

movie is good so far! but having a hard time focusing when all i can think about is 70s!ari and being his favorite groupie, OR his little pornstar while he’s my producer, AND SO MANY OTHER TROPES I LOVE THE 70S ERA

i've never seen almost famous but I searched it up and it looks interesting !!

WAIT LET ME KITH YOUR MIND BC: 70s rockstar!ari showing up to the hottest events with his favourite groupie on his arm, dressed to the nines and you’re proudly wearing a chain with his initial on it. hollywood's sleaziest rockstar is in an unofficial official relationship with you, the girl who went from a nobody following around his band to his muse, an it girl !! to quote curtis in karma: you're his fucking pornstar.

[scumvillains]

i just think ran has a thing for your legs

more specifically he would looove to adorn your ankle in a dainty gold anklet. its subtle but his own little version of a collar

loves it even more when it dangles right on his shoulder when hes pressing you in half and drilling the life out of you

[dutchimagine]

pov: You hear a knock on the rear window

and man door hand hook car door

[quaranmine]

by the way do you remember at the beginning of september when i was sad because the libby audio book i wanted had like an eight week hold on it? anyway yeah i got the book AND I DONT EVEN LIKE IT