Souls Headband Novels & Stories

His expensive suit was soaked with cold sweat, clinging to his thin back and outlining the curve of his protruding spine. He raised his hand, and the golden Heaven's Power faintly flowed at his fingertips, trying to trap the raging karmic burdens. The red prayer beads on his wrist shone brightly, each bead like a burning star, emitting a gentle yet resilient glow that protected the core of his soul.

This guy was dripping with wealth, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes and scoff at the sheer audacity of it all. The baseball cup that was drawn down covered his entire forehead, and the dark sunglasses did enough justice to cover his eyes. His leather trouser was half worn and half there, with cahins hanging from the sides. The white t-shirt was somehow force-tucked, and on top was a leather jacket. He assumed the look of a dangerous bad boy, from Ayana’s point of view.

I pulled on the shirt, tugged the skirt over my hips, slid on my black thigh high socks, and laced up my purple combat boots like a warrior goddess headed to war. “Skull headband?” Thistle chirped. “You know it,” I smirked, grabbing the silver scythe accented headband and yanking my curls back enough to show off my freakishly long, pointed ears. Let ‘em stare. I threw on black lipstick, smudged my eyeliner with intentional chaos, and stuffed my new books into my bag. By the time we hit the hallway, it was seven fifteen.

But he was still anticipating seeing what would be his next move. Carson just placed his hand right over the blanket covering his hard rock dick. He had his one leg was stretched straight and other was bent inside... He was looking no less than a sexy model. Displaying his tattoos. Only Carson among the three had tattoos on his body. His arm had a black band; his right leg had an ANCHOR right above his ankle and not to forget the DEVIL TRYING TO CATCH HIS NIPPLE. Well it was a devil printed on his chest above his left nipple extending his hand as in to grab his nipple.

I was looking for a bandage and a spirit to take care of the wound on my head. I walked toward the first-aid box that was in the room and was hanging on the wall. I leaned up as I took the things I would need. I tend to bandage the wound on my head gently, and I was about to do so when I heard the voice of Selene through the mind-link.

“Really? Wait, can I choose first?” “Sure, darling.” I started looking through her stall full of headbands and other accessories, like bracelets and necklaces. I suddenly saw a headband with the ears of a cat. I grabbed that and wore it on my head, then I looked at Vincent. “Does it suit me?” “You look like a beautiful cat woman ready to bite and scratch me anytime. I feel horny just thinking about that.” I rolled my eyes and put the headband back in the stall. “I think I’ll just take this one,” I said then I took another headband with the ears of a rabbit. I faced Vincent. “Can you bend down a bit? You’re so tall.” I said.

He holds both bags up smiling. "Yish. Are we talking about the medicine or the snacks? Let us fucking breathe." Jesse groans like he was eliminated from RuPaul's drag race and leaves. Magnus takes his position. "I've got something for the swelling but it needs to be done on a clean face. Ibuprofen will work for the headache yeah?" "So what's the other stuff?" "You know, in case there's an emergency. Painkillers, bandage, everything you could think of too add to a first aid box."

Wherever they appeared, the room would turn much colder than anywhere else. They looked the same as always, wearing sharp suits with work badges hanging around their necks. The tablets in their hands were displaying the Ledger of Souls. They had tattoos covering their faces, and their other hands were wrapped with spectral fetters. Those were used to bind the dead souls. They said wherever Blanc and Noir showed up, someone was definitely going to die. That was because the Ledger of Souls could display a person's lifespan. So when someone was about to die, they would appear.

The whiskey bottle sat just inches away from my grasp, but it felt so distant. Too far. I stretched my hand toward it, but my fingers barely brushed against the glass before my eyelids grew heavy. My body sank deeper into the couch, and my vision faded into darkness. «»«»«»«»«»«»«»«» I woke up to a pounding headache and an insistent knock at my door. Each knock sent another sharp throb through my skull, making the headache even worse. Groaning, I dragged myself off the couch and shuffled toward the door, eyes still half-closed. Without thinking, I pulled it open.

32 — Lorak He kept the vials in a case that had once held a musical instrument. Velvet-lined, latched with brass fittings that had gone green at the edges from handling. It had belonged to someone before him — he'd found it at an estate sale twenty years ago, before he'd known what he would become, before the order had found him and named the thing he could do and given it a framework and a purpose and a salary and a set of rituals that made the harm feel procedural.