#postponing of higher ups

[artcalledwrap]

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In a napkin tissue paper sort a speak

Creative foldings twisting on a finger

It fits in wrap

Need Peace in Ukraine

My colors represents

In an art form

The pic is only example

I left that rose affixed to a cart.

I never saw it my next day

[tiiramisu-cake]

Gojo Satoru visiting Kugisaki nobara while she is in coma, sitting next to her, and talking to her. Gojo Satoru swapping souls with Yuta okkotsu, teaching him everything he knows about his cursed technique. Gojo Satoru hiding Sukuna's last finger to indefinitely postpone Yuji's execution. Gojo Satoru who bore the burden of being a monster, killed all the higher ups alone because he refused to let his students watch such gruesome sights. Gojo Satoru who believed he would win right til the end. Gojo Satoru who died knowing his students had got it from there, that they would be able to save Fushiguro Megumi. Gojo Satoru who let his body be used as puppet after his death. Gojo Satoru who died knowing all his students would be saved.

[defmaybe]

Promise

12 Days of Christmas: Day 2, December 26th, 2024

LE SSERAFIM’s Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

8.8k words

A/N: This is actually my first time writing about a guy being dominant lol.

—

Ambition.

It’s not really a far-fetched concept for anyone. To aim higher has always been an innate trait in humans. Kazuha is nothing short of that, perhaps having the quality even more than a lot of people.

So, it breaks your heart to say no to her.

“Kazuha, I really can’t. I’m sorry,” you say, despondent in your response. “The solos have never been in our plan.”

She sighs, as if she has already known the outcome of her request. But her eyes remain determined, staring straight into yours. 

She’s not going anywhere.

Kazuha’s personality is nothing short of resolute. Motivation, determination, diligence—she has it all. These are reflected in the over-time practice sessions every single day. The time she pours into perfecting the dance choreographies is unreal. And it really shows on the stage, it really shows.

She stands up, her long, muscular legs come into your view. They’re beautiful, and you can just spend all day looking at them, but that’s going to be postponed for now. There’s the puzzle of guessing her mind right in front of you.

“Is there anything else I can do to convince you? More practice? Better stage perform–”

“No, Zuha, I’m so, so sorry about this, but we’ve never been a vocal group, really. You’ll have to under–”

“I don’t want to be remembered as just another member of this group. Please, this is important to me. I’ll do anything, please,” she pleads.

It’s your turn to sigh. She won’t let up, will she? Your fingers tap onto the handle of the chair restlessly, unable to find a solution for this woman.

“I just can’t find a solution for you right now, Zuha. If you really want that, you’ll have to find your own way, alright? I’m sorry.” You’re trying to sound stern, but there’s only regret within the words.

She takes a step towards you, resting her hands on the table. Her shirt falls down slightly to give way for you to her faint cleavage. Your breath hitches slightly.

“Please?” she pleads, one last time. That slight view of her breasts is giving her the upper hand in this.

Don’t.

You find your mouth latching onto Kazuha’s tits, tasting the sweat after her practice. She cries and cries in euphoria, spurring you on. Your hands roam around her body, feeling her otherworldly tight abs, her supple ass—one that you’ve been wanting to bury your face into. Your fingers then find their place inside her cunt, nudging her sensitive spot deep within.

Don’t

“You know, Kazuha, I found your ambition–” you say, standing up to match her tall height. Still, you have to look up slightly to match her eyes. “–admirable. It’s one of your best qualities. It really breaks my heart to say no to you.”

“Thanks, boss,” she scoffs, looking down with despondency. The fire in her eyes died down. “I’ll come back when I’m ready.”

Kazuha then walks away, crestfallen. Her strides are aimless and disinterested. The view of her back is displayed to you. 

With your eyes, you start to strip her, piece by piece—from her shirt, her pants. She’s in just her underwear now. Your cock starts to grow at the mental image you create inside your head. 

You slowly unlock her bra, fully revealing her toned back. Her body warmth emanates into you. You reach for her pert breasts, making her moan as your fingers graze her hard, brown nipples. But you don’t stop just there. Your frisky fingers wander down into her panties. You found out that she shaves, and she’s already fucking wet for you. Then, you plunge your fingers into her soaked cunt, rewarding you with an airy moan from Kazuha. You nib on her ears softly, bringing out another whimper from her.

Without any patience left, you strip down her last garment, making her bare in front of you, and you can tell that she’s as aroused as you are. Her dripping cunt is finally coming into your view. Her body is yours. She’s yours.

Don’t.

You’re snapped back into reality, though. Back to watching her, almost leaving the room. You have to take your chance. 

Now.

“I’m not done yet, Zuha,” you order, sounding serious for the first time. It gets over you. Lust gets over you.

She stops, looking back at you. Her breath hitches as she sees the newfound determination inside your eyes. There’s something about you, and she can feel it.

“Yes, boss?”

“Let’s say for tomorrow, you wear something–different, something that is a bit more–provocative, and we’ll see what happens.”

Kazuha furrows her brows, giving you a puzzled look. “P–Provocative?”

You only nod, expressionless, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating so damn fast right now. “Provocative, Zuha.”

“A–And wh–what will I get in return?” Kazuha asks, her voice starts to shake. Her confidence is faltering.

You smile back at her unsure expression. She’s going to get what she wants—a chance to have the spotlight on her own. You’re going to get what you want—her.

“You know how this goes, Zuha. You know how this goes.”

“I–I d–don’t know. D–Do I really need to do this? I mean–I want to have that solo–”

“I’ll be in the practice room tomorrow, make sure to follow my instructions,” you say, stern and confident.

The words linger within her mind. “I–fuck–fine, boss,” and she gives in to you.

“Don’t ruin it, Zuha.”

—

You couldn’t sleep last night.

Kazuha is stuck in your head. Your mind replays the event that might happen—you having a mind-breaking sex with her. Your cock twitches with anticipation, expecting her cunt to wrap around it like a vice. Hell, you might get to fuck her tight ass even. You’ve seen it. You lost count of how many times you’ve watched that Perfect Night dance practice video. The cinematographer did know their job.

“Mmm, that felt so good, boss.”

How in the fuck did you stay assertive like that in the room? That wasn’t you at all. Though, at least it opened a new door for you.

You’re getting to watch Nakamura Kazuha in her tightest, smallest clothes she’s ever going to wear, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll be off by sunset.

—

Kazuha opens the door into the practice room to find you already there, dealing with work, among other things.

You give her a faint smile, satisfied with the way she composes herself for today.

She’s wearing a tight-fitted sports bra, one that shows you the curve of her firm chest. You’d love to put your hand on them, kneading, nibbling her taut nipples through the thin fabric. Her hair is freed, swaying with her strides. Below, her shorts are so damn strained that you can see the outline of her soon-to-be drenched panties. You’re going to use your mouth to take it off, while your hands grip on her muscular thig–

“Hey, boss,” Sakura snaps you back into reality. Standing beside her is Eunchae, smiling brightly.

“Shit–fuck–,” you mumble to yourself. “Uh, hi, girls.”

“Yeah, I noticed it too,” Eunchae says to you, voice barely above a whisper. “She probably forgot to do her laundry.”

“Who–Who?” Fuck, you sound like a goddamn owl doing this.

“Zuha, she’s wearing something that’s a bit–exposing, isn’t she?” Sakura says, smiling.

“Bet she must be so damn embarrassed,” Eunchae adds with a giggle. You can feel your cheeks starting to grow hotter.

“Uh, y–yeah, she must’ve been–”

“Alright, girls, let’s start the practice,” the instructor shouts, clapping her hands.

Sakura and Eunchae giggle at each other before walking away from you.

“See ya, boss.”

“See ya.”

—

As the practice goes on, you can’t help but popping up from your work to watch Kazuha now and then. Just like last night, your length starts to grow, and you’re doing your best to use your laptop to hide the tent in your pants.

(The work is actually a façade, really. If you could just stare at Kazuha for the whole practice, you wouldn’t have risked straining your back carrying your laptop down from the top floor.)

Her movements are nothing short of strong and sensual. She’s committed, showing no signs of relenting. She has always been this determined. Every kick, every sway, every arch, she gives it all.

When she bends down, you have a magnificent view of her supple ass, so juicy. You wish you could’ve put your face in it, tasting her sweat dripping down her tightness. 

When she arches, you have a splendid view of her small tits under that damn tight sports bra. You wish you could’ve sucked on them, tasting her sweat dripping down her valley. You wish you could’ve made her moan erratically in your embrace.

Your bulge is screaming under your tight pants. It aches to be freed, aches to be inside of your employee’s ass, aches to be thrusted into her mouth.

The other women don’t seem to notice, still focusing on the practice. Thank god.

—

As the practice comes to an end, you’re struggling to hide your raging erection under your slacks. It’s time to approach her for the next step, so you stand up and walk towards Kazuha, who is all drenched in her sweat. Her creamy skin shines against the lights in the practice room. She’s stretching to cool down herself, while all the other members and the instructor are already leaving the room.

“So,” you begin the conversation.

“So,” Kazuha repeats. “How did I do?”

You try to compose yourself. “You did well, Kazuha. Committed as always.”

She smiles. It’s a genuine one. “Thanks, boss.”

You continue, “Now, about the solo comeback we’ve talked about.” You sit next to her. You can feel her body warmth close to you. Maybe you’re sitting a bit too close to her. Her expression is unreadable. Maybe she’s expecting something from you.

“Yeah? Is it done?”

“Let’s say–we’re halfway there.”

Kazuha’s breaths speed up a little. She’s anxious.

“Halfway?”

“Halfway, yes.”

“Go ahead, boss. Tell me what to do,” Kazuha says, slightly apprehensive, but she still has her ground. Her fiery eyes bore into yours.

Here goes nothing.

Your hands make a soft contact with her knees. You hear her breath hitch softly. Her eyes weaken. You can feel the apprehension building up within her loins. Her body jolts.

“B–Boss,” she stutters, before she brings her hand atop of yours, putting some force on it. Your movement is halted.

“A–Are you sure that I have to do this?”

You should stop.

You gulp, unsure whether to have this woman go your way or let your lust take over.

Do the right thing.

The image of Kazuha’s body, all sweaty, atop of yours, moving back and forth on your cock, materializes in your head. Her nasty, salty fluid falls onto your naked body. Her pungent aroma fills your nostrils, and it’s driving you insane. Her small breasts rest above you, and you can’t help but give them a taste.

You should stop.

Kazuha mouth’s create a suction around your cock. Your wails echo through the practice room. You grip onto the back of her head, harshly pressing it into your hardness. She gags and gags. Her eyes become watery. Her grips on your thighs grow harsher, and it’s going to draw blood out of you.

Do the right thing.

You’re lavishing Kazuha’s cunt with unmatched hunger. She cries out in ecstasy. You keep attacking her sensitive nub with your tongue. Your fingers are knuckles deep within her, applying pressure on the spot that makes her moan even louder. Her taste is salty, yet so addictive. She tastes so fucking good.

You should stop.

You’re gripping onto her waist, thrusting into her wet cunt repeatedly. “Yes, yes, right fucking there, boss. Please, please, please don’t ever fucking stop,” Kazuha sobs. Wet sounds vibrate through the practice room. The reflection of you two in the mirror only fuels the fire. You bring your hands onto her firmness, playing with her taut nipples. She keens, and it’s one of the best things that you’ve ever heard from her.

Do the right thing.

But you give in.

“How far can you go, Zuha?” You keep your composure. Please make it work. Your heart rate spikes, but your breathing is still saying the opposite. Keep your cool. Keep your cool.

“I–” She stares blankly into your eyes. You can feel that the gears in her brain are turning quickly. Yes or no. Yes or no.

“Stand up, Zuha,” you order and get up from your sitting position. She looks around, trying to find solace in the objects in the room. She’s unsure.

“Fuck,” she mumbles to herself, before getting up. She’s a bit taller than you, but with the power you’re holding, it’s like you’re six-feet tall.

“Stand against the mirror,” you say, sternly, pointing to the reflective wall. She hesitates for a bit before complying with your command.

You walk towards her until you’re just a breath away from her. You kneel. Her cunt is right in front of your face. She’s pervading your nostrils, and you’re so damn happy to make her your air.

“A–are you going to eat me out, b–boss?” Kazuha asks nervously. Her hands are trembling.

“How much do you want this, Zuha?” you ask her back. Your hands are closing in on her tight waistband already. You want to eat her pussy so fucking bad.

“I–I don’t know.”

You let the silence hang in the air for a moment, contemplating your next move. Maybe you should stop just here. Just say no to her request, and act like this never happened. 

But the show has to go on.

“I’ll go slowly, okay?”

“O–Okay, boss.”

You slowly peel down her shorts, slowly revealing her black panties underneath. They’re already drenched with her sweat. God, if you could just give it a taste. You can feel the urge to stick out your tongue. Her creamy thighs are slowly exposed to you, but you can’t just yield to temptation that easily. You have to go slow.

The outline of her puffy cunt can be seen through the dark fabric. She looks so fucking delicious from the outside. You find yourself closing in the distance between your filthy tongue and her pungent, drenched folds.

“Boss, p–please don’t tease me,” Kazuha hisses. Her thighs are shaking from the uncompromising anticipation. You can see sweat running down her toned legs. “If you’re going to do it, just fucking do it.”

And you break.

You yank her shorts down, making her body jolt in shock. 

“Kick it off,” you order her, and she kicks her shorts away in the boiling lust. It’s just her underwear now, before your tongue can taste her nectar. You’re drooling at the sight of the trace of her pussy. Fuck, you’re not waiting anymore.

Hastily, you grab onto her panties’ waistband before pulling it off in a quick swoop, rewarding you with an airy moan. And there it is, the treasure you’ve been seeking. Her clean-shaven cunt already glistens. Her juice shines under the room’s lights. Her scent is so damn addictive. It’s pungent. It’s musky. It’s tart, and you can’t help but–

“Ah! Fuck!” Kazuha rasps as your tongue finds its place on her cunt. It echoes through the empty practice room. Her body turns rigid. Her hands grip onto your head harshly, pushing you into her pussy even harder.

The first taste of her cunt feels salty—a combination of her sweat and her juice. You’re lapping it up relentlessly. You’re revelling in it—the way she moans, the way she tastes, and the way she just fucking keens. It’s all so perfect.

She curses and curses a variety of profanities. Her face displays pure ecstasy and a glint of embarrassment, but your only goal right now is to make her falter. You keep lapping and lapping on her cunt, tasting her nectar without yielding.

Her eyes are lit up with raging fire, fluttering in bliss. Her hands grip onto your head harshly. It's almost drawing blood from your poor scalp. Her cries only climb in volume and frequency, more demanding. It grows louder and higher with each lapping of your tongue.

You double your efforts, eating her cunt out faster and faster hungrily. Her rasps become harsher. You close your eyes and take in her scent through your nose. It’s musky. It’s tart. And you swear that it’s a fucking aphrodisiac for you.

And if it’s not enough, your hands grab onto her firm ass, suffocating yourself with her pungent cunt. She lets out a gasp, and you swear that you’ve never been any more feral like this in your whole fucking life.

Her ass feels so meaty, a product of her consistent squat routines. You do nothing but give them a squeeze and a grab, bringing out endless wails from her thin lips.

Then, an idea pops up in your filthy head.

“Turn around, Zuha.”

“Wh–What, boss?”

“I’m gonna eat your ass.”

She complies quickly, showing her tight ass in front of your face. It’s heaving. She’s expecting. And without a word, you bury yourself in between her supple cheeks. Your tongue immediately plants atop of her asshole.

“Godddd~” Kazuha grunts, her voice low and harsh. The sweat running down her tightness combining with her juice makes up an even better taste. You’re basking in them—her taste, her aroma, her moans, her sounds.

Her body spasms in a bliss. Her hips jerk against the practice room wall, painting it with her salty sweat on her meaty thighs.

And if that isn’t already enough, you drive your fingers deep into her. They’re hugged by her tight walls, before you’d curl them to make her cry even more.

“Fuckkk~” she groans, deeply. She uses her hands to grip onto the back of your head. You’re pressed into her ass even stronger. Her moans start to get frenzy, and that drives you even wilder.

“B–Boss, please, I–I’m gonna cum,” Kazuha screams, echoing over the room. Her entire body turns more rigid, sucking the life out of your dirty mouth.

“Hgnngn.” Kazuha can only form unintelligible sounds at this point. Any lilt in her voice is now replaced by primal grunts and moans.

And she cums. Her frame becomes stiff, gushing out clear liquid out of her plump pussy onto the wooden floor. Her entire body spasms and writhes against the wall, painting it with her sweat. Your mouth goes through the entire ride of her orgasm, feeling her high, savoring her precipice.

As her orgasm dies down, what comes out of her mouth are indescribable groans and guttural whimpers. Her body becomes limped after the mind-breaking orgasm she just experienced.

“Fuck, I–I’ve never thought–” she pauses to catch her breath, trying to make sense of the situation. Her head is hanging from her neck. Her body rests on the mirror weakly. Her boss just gave her one of the best orgasms of her life. “–I’ve never thought that it could be this good with a person.”

You wipe your mouth, getting a taste of her salty squirt remaining on your hand. “My pleasure, Zuha.”

“Guess–Guess I should–I should return the favor, huh?”

You stand up. Even if she’s towering over you by mere inches, you feel like the ball is in your court, and you are going to do whatever you please with it.

“Kneel.”

She slowly gets down. Her eyes lock with yours, filled with uncertainty and anxiety. You aren’t sure what’s filling her mind right now. Lust? Disgust? You can only guess.

You let it go on, anyway.

Her slick forehead shines against the room lights. Her hands start to unbuckle your tight jeans, slowly freeing your cock from its fabric cage. As the first barrier goes down, she watches your covered erection anxiously. Her breathing accelerates. Her hands tremble. She’s unsure, but what is she unsure about?

“B–Boss,” Kazuha stammers.

“Yes, Zuha?” you say, looking down to meet her eyes.

“Wh–What if I don’t do well?”

“I don’t mind, really. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sure, you’d love to have power over her, but not to the point where it leaves her in dread.

“Thanks, boss,” she answers, before grabbing onto the edge of your boxers. She slowly pulls it down to reveal your hardness. It springs free. She’s watching it in awe, taking in the image of your stiff cock.

She starts slowly, stroking your cock from the base. Your breath becomes shorter.

“Are you okay, boss?”

“J–Just go on, Zuha.”

Kazuha then plants her lips on the tip of your cock, making your body shudder in pleasure. She’s coating you in her saliva. She’s making you go wild.

“Fuck.”

Kazuha lets out a giggle before taking in more of your length, starting from the whole tip. There’s determination in her eyes, the eagerness to make you cry out her name in bliss.

She doubles her efforts, second by second. She takes in more and more of your thick cock into her filthy mouth, and you start to reach her throat. It feels so fucking good. Your breathing grows more erratic. You can almost moan in pleasure, if it’s not her teeth that keep getting in the way. They keep grazing your cock, and it’s the only thing that stops you from crying her name out.

“Z–Zuha, shit, fuck, y–your teeth.”

She suddenly pulls back from the act, leaving you lost in the sudden absence of your high. Her hand detaches from you.

“Yes?” she asks, drool leaks out the edge of her mouth.

“Fuck.” You try to catch your breath, trying not to collapse onto the floor. “Y–Your teeth, it keeps grazing my cock.”

“Oh,” Kazuha utters. “Should we just–try something else?”

You stare into her eyes. Her expression is unreadable, but you need an upper hand in this. She’s going to suck your cock.

“Do it again, Zuha. Suck my cock again.” Your voice is commanding. You swear that you’ve never been this assertive before in your life. “Without the teeth.”

She looks up at you. There’s anxiety in her eyes. There’s the fear of letting you down.

“S–Sure, boss.”

She moves her gorgeous face towards your cock again. This time, she makes sure to wrap her lips around her teeth. And at the first contact, you cry out her name. It feels so fucking good.

“Fuck, Z–Zuha.”

She only smiles with the tip of your cock in her mouth. She stays there for a while, giving your tip licks and licks to make you whimper in rapture. Her hands stroke along your length. Her eyes look up at you, she knows she’s having a lead.

Kazuha then takes more and more of you and seconds go by, slowly. You watch as your length disappears into her mouth and her name leaves yours.

She takes your cock in so deep you start to hear her gag. Her eyes start to flutter in discomfort. She’s still trying to look up at you, as her hands go to your testicles. She’s squeezing them.

“God, fuck!”

Her saliva does wonders to the experience, making you suck a sudden every chance you have. It’s hard to resist not pushing her fully onto your cock right now, making her take its length fully.

“K–Keep doing that, Zuha. Keep fucking doing that.”

With encouragement, she then pushes herself fully onto your cock. You are now inside her mouth, and the image is nothing short of phenomenal. Saliva is leaking out of her. Her eyes are blinking rapidly. Tears are running down her cheeks. She’s making unintelligible sounds around your cock, choking on it, sputtering on it. It’s a cacophony. She’s submitting herself to you, and you’re loving every second of it.

“So eager to please, don’t you?” you have to ask. Your hands land on the back of her head softly.

She only let out a hum as a reply. Her mouth is too full of your cock to say anything. It’s huge for her. She’s cock-drunk now.

Finally catching the wind of your dominance over her, you sneer, “Never know that you’re quite a slut, Zuha.” You grip her by the hair, slowly pulling her off your thick cock. She chokes and sputters on the way out. God, what a sight.

As her mouth leaves your cock, you finally get to see her face fully. Black streaks run down from her eyes. Her lips are swollen. She’s drooling. 

“What a cockslut,” you utter, still holding onto her hair. A smile forms on her face. She’s fucking happy to be dominated like this.

“Anything for you, boss. You promised me a solo~” she says sultrily (and drunkenly from your cock), giving the tip of your length a lick as she finishes her words. Your body shudders.

“G–God, Zuha,”

Without another word, she dives onto your glistened dick again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her teeth graze your cock slightly, though.

“Sh–Shit, your teeth, Zuha, y–your teeth.”

She quickly complies, covering her hard teeth with her lips. She’s fucking you with her mouth properly again. She bobs her head up and down slowly, trying to catch the rhythm. Pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. And with the way she’s looking up at you so damn submissively, you swear you can cum right here and now.

She starts to find her tempo, quickening her strokes. She’s going up and down your cock faster. Her hands find themselves on your exposed thighs. Fuck, they’re cold from the air conditioners, and it makes your body tremble in the sensation.

The wet sound of her sucking your cock echoes through the room. Your hands, again, find themselves on the back of her head, pushing her into your cock relentlessly. Your fingers run through her soft hair, feeling her silk.

“Fuck, s–such a willing slut for your boss, don’t you?”

Kazuha only lets out a low groan affirmatively. She’s still aiming to pleasure her boss. Her career is at stake, after all, and you’re rejoicing in the way her mouth moves up and down your cock like this.

And you can feel it, the inevitable. It’s building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her warm mouth. You can’t resist it anymore.

“Z–Zuha, gonna cum.”

She only makes muffled sounds into your cock, too busy sucking your length to say anything, and you’re so damn happy that she’s willing to go this far for you.

“Take all of it, alright? Be a good girl for me,” you groan out. Your mind is so lost in the pleasure Kazuha is giving you.

She can only nod, still bobbing her head without any care. She’s giving you a damn good blowjob, and you start to lose control of yourself.

You’re close. Your muscles grow more tense. Your cock twitches inside her mouth. Your grip on her head becomes harsher and harsher, determined to make her take all of your hardness.

“Gonna–Gonna cum.”

You break. You push Kazuha onto your cock harshly, making her nose hit your pubic bone. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of semen into her mouth, emptying your balls inside her. She’s damn eager to take it all. She’s gripping onto your thighs tightly. Your scent is filling up her nostrils, making her eyes flutter in unbridled lust. Gagging sounds come out of her mouth.

“Goddamn–fuck!”

Your vision turns white. Your cock twitches violently inside her mouth. Cum is leaking out of your tip into her warm cavern. You’re painting the insides of her mouth white. You’re damn ecstatic. What a fucking ride that is.

Successive spurts grow softer, from shots into drizzles. Kazuha is still determined to take it all. Her hands snake up to squeeze your tight ass, pressing you forward to bury yourself further in her mouth.

“F–Fuck, Zuha.”

She smiles, before finally pulling herself off of your cock. She takes a small gulp, signaling that cum is going down her slutty throat. You watch in awe. She then opens her mouth, tongue hanging open, no trace of cum left inside. Fuck, she drank all of you.

“What’s next, boss?” she asks, wiping the remnants of cum off her face. Her face is a mess, but she’s ready for another round.

Not you, though.

“Wait a sec.” You then sit on the wooden floor, looking into the mirror. Kazuha rests beside you.

“Gotta wait for this little guy to be ready again, huh?” she asks, touching your now-flaccid cock.

“We can talk.”

She then rests her head on your shoulder, faint black streaks can be seen on her face. You can feel her body warmth emanating onto you.

“So.”

“So?” you ask.

“So, I have a question for you,” says Kazuha. Her voice is weak, clearly tired from the oral action she gave you. You two make eye contact in the reflection.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you decide to become our manager?”

“Well–” you pause, trying to recollect the complete picture. You just keep forgetting it “–I kind of wanted to become an idol, you know?”

She lets out a soft chuckle. “But?”

You can’t help but to laugh along with her. “Yeah, my body isn’t really up for the task.” You then pat your out-of-shape tummy softly on your shirt.

“I’d like to be remembered, just like you,” you continue, sighing along the way. “To live among the stars, all that stuff.”

It starts to pour out now, your story. Despite the earlier dominance, you feel vulnerable with her. You’re showing your heart to one of your employees.

Kazuha laughs again. “It’s not all confetti and flowers, boss.”

“I know, I know,” you say, somewhat understanding her life after a few years of observation from afar. “All of you have gone through a lot, and I’ll forever admire you guys for that.”

“Thanks, boss,” she replies. Her hand moves down to play with your cock again. “Still not there, huh?”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. “It’ll take some time, Zuha.”

“Ask me something, then,” she says. 

You let the silence hang in the air, trying to think of a question. It’s difficult, especially when you’re naked down from your waist like this.

You were about to ask her the same question she had asked you, but you’ve asked her that already. She loves Blackpink, hence her idol aspirations. She's an INFP, used to be an INTP. Her eyesight gets worse with time. What’s left to be asked?

“You know, I was so scared when that interviewer asked me about my type,” she says, her hands caressing your body. Your mind is brought to that interview, the one she–

“I was so afraid that the fans would reject me just because I said ‘men or women’.”

You can only sigh.

“It seemed like they didn’t, Zuha,” you shoot her a smile, holding her hand gently, as if you didn’t fuck her throat senseless mere minutes ago. “Don’t give much fuck about those people.”

She lets out a giggle. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

The conversation goes on for a few more minutes. At first, it was simply a time killer, waiting for your soft cock to get hard again. But as it flows, you feel like you get to know Kazuha more and more.

Slowly, your arousal returns, and Kazuha seems to notice that. It twitches in the expectation of another round.

“Oh, look at him~” she says softly. Her hand is drawn to touching you gently. You can’t help but giggle as she caresses your hard cock.

“Stand up, Zuha,” you command. You’re trying to sound stern, but the exchange earlier just softens your voice.

She complies immediately. Her toned legs are displayed elegantly in front of you. You stand up with her, taking the full view of her body on the way.

What a banger body.

“What’s next, boss?” Her words seem to want you to get this over with, but the small smile plastered on her face seems to say otherwise.

You pause, thinking for some witty response as you unbutton your shirt, revealing your out-of-shape body. You clearly have been eating too much. It’s a bit embarrassing.

What’s next?

“I want your bra off, Zuha.” Well, that’s far from witty.

“Thought you’d never ask that,” Kazuha playfully scoffs before taking off her tight sports bra. Her small breasts come into view, along with the taut nipples proudly sitting atop of them. She can’t wait for what’s next, so do you. The bra is then thrown away onto the floor. Her naked body stands proudly in front of you.

She’s nothing short of unreal—the pert breasts, the firm abs, the glistened pussy. She’s sculpted by a deity. And without a word, you push Kazuha onto the mirror, drawing out an airy moan from her. You press your body against hers, while her back is pressed against the wall.

She sucks a sudden. Her hands are trembling against the mirror. Her eyes are closed, enamored in the expectations of you inside of her cunt.

“F–Fuck, boss.”

“I know, Zuha. Now if you’d bend over for me.”

She quickly follows your orders, flipping her body around so that her back faces you. Your cock is pressed against her ass. You let out a hum in satisfaction.

You draw a line with your finger down her spine, making her suck in the air. Sweat from the earlier activity still lingers on her back. Her body quivers in pleasure. She’s submitting to you now.

“Goddd~” Kazuha groans. She’s at the mercy of your touch.

Your finger runs down the middle of her back, down her sculpted arch, to the ridge of her tight ass. She screams, as your finger makes contact with the outer of her puckered hole.

“Fuck!” Her whole body shakes erratically, overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re giving her. Her breathing grows restless.

“Slut,” you whisper the demeaning word into her ear. You’d argue that it fit her, with her being a whimpering mess under your touch.

You circle your finger around her asshole, heightening her moans. You feel the creased patch of skin on your finger, letting out a satisfied hum, but that’s not your main course. You then draw your finger down, touching her wet heat. Kazuha sucks a sudden, before you push your finger into her. 

Her cunt welcomes you easily. You swear that the wail coming out of her mouth is one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. You watch her face become contorted in the mirror. She’s lost in the bliss you’re giving her.

You slowly push yourself into her pussy, burying yourself in the wet heat. Kazuha’s body shakes with pleasure. You insert your whole finger into her, before touching a rough patch inside her.

That’s where you make her collapse.

You curl your finger to touch her sensitive spot, and as expected, Kazuha lets out a sharp, sudden moan. Her legs are barely holding her up. She’s faltering, and you’re enjoying every second of it.

“F–Fuckkk~”

You double your efforts, stimulating where she needs the most. Your finger is engulfed by her tight, wet heat. She feels warm. You’re loving the way she feels around you. You’re loving the way she submits to you. You’re loving the way she fucking keens from your finger inside her. Fuck, you need even more.

You quicken the pace, and it is making her quiver uncontrollably. How she’s shuddering around you, how she moans. It’s just unreal for you. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You couldn’t have found a better woman in your life who you’d find as angelic as Nakamura Kazuha.

“Goddamn it, Kazuha. You’re doing so fucking well for me,” you say, playing with her inner walls recklessly. She’s shaking under you. The sound of it is spurring you on. The smell of it is making you go feral. The sight of it is making you feel the power you’ve never felt before in your life.

“G–Gonna c–cum, boss,” she utters, mustering up any energy left to say it. Her eyes are rolling upwards now.

Then, you regretfully withdraw your finger out of her. The engulfing wet heat is now missing from your fingers. She groans in disappointment.

“What the fuck?” Her expression is on the line of anger.

You smirk at her through the reflection, sucking your finger lewdly. She’s salty. Still, that doesn’t seem to lighten up her mood.

“Goddamn it, you’re fucking insufferable,” she sneers, still pissed off by your sudden absence. You have other plans, at least.

“Stand still for me, please,” you say with unwavering calmness, getting a hold of her waist. You’re fucking her properly.

Her expression changes, realizing your next action. “Oh,” she utters.

And for the first time, you plunge yourself into her, feeling the way her tight, wet cunt hugs your cock. It feels so fucking ecstatic. The sensation pierces through your entire body like a spear. She keens loudly, and so do you. It echoes around the room that’s yours.

“Fucking hell–” you give her ass a harsh spank, she wails in the concoction of pain and pleasure “–you’re so fucking tight, Zuha.”

“Th–Thanks, boss,” she replies, as you slowly push your hardness inside her to the hilt. “Y–You’re big too.”

You chuckle, and you swear that it’s the most wicked laugh you’ve ever let out. Your thighs press against her ass, before you drag your hips back. Her tightness around you is making your cock throb, and you thrust back into her cunt. You grunt loudly, and so does she.

“Nghhh~” Kazuha groans, as you find your rhythm in plowing her pussy. You start fucking her properly this time with your cock, pounding into her with no abandon. She feels so good around you.

No words can describe the feeling of fucking Kazuha’s cunt. It’s something beyond your comprehension—the tightness of her alone, the power you’re holding over her, the sounds of her guttural grunts and groans and moans and whimpers. It’s just nothing short of unreal.

“D–Don’t you dare–ah–fucking pull out th–this time, boss,” she commands, trying to sound as stern as possible. Though, it comes out weakly, just like her limp body right now.

“What if I do, huh?” And you give her ass another loud spank. She whimpers. Her resolve falters. Her posture almost collapses.

“Hgngnn.” She can only let out a whimper as you kiss the vanilla skin of her neck. She’s salty from the sweat lingering on her body. Her scent pervades your nose violently. You swear that she’s like an aphrodisiac to you. It’s driving you feral. Her skin shines under the room's light beautifully, and you only wish you can just stay with her like this forever.

“B–Boss,” she mewls, her voice weak and lost.

“Yes, Zuha?” You’re still ramming into her with reckless abandon. Her tight cunt hugs your length perfectly, coaxing the cum out of your balls.

“Gonna–Gonna cum.”

You say nothing but upping your ante, pressing her harder into the mirror. Her tits are splayed on the wall. Her walls contract for you, drawing breathless moans out of your lips. Both of your mouths hang open in bliss. You both want this.

“Cum for me, Zuha, but don’t think this is over yet.” You give her rear another slap. The skin clashes against your hand. She wails, as you lean in for a whisper, “There’s another hole to be filled.”

“Hhgnn,” she grunts under the weight of your promise. Her arms go limp, both hanging just beside her pliant body. Her mind is filled with nothing but your cock inside her pussy.

And she cums for the second time today. Her walls contract around your cock, gripping you like a vice. She lets out a guttural groan from the depth of her lungs. Her right cheek is pressed against the mirror, painting it with her slick sweat.

“Fuck! Goddd~” she shouts loudly from the force of her violent orgasm. You relentlessly fuck her through the forceful orgasm, pulling groans and grunts out of her as much as possible.

Her orgasm subsides, leaving her shaking body as the evidence of it. Her pussy is still contracting around your cock. You slow down, and the other plan comes into play.

You pull your hard length out of her cunt. You’re all glistening in her juice now. It’s strange. You usually cum a lot faster than this. Though, with Kazuha, it’s like you can just go on and on forever.

You insert your fingers inside her pussy, making her entire body tremble in shock once more. You’re trying to gather her slick juice to smear your cock with any lubricant you can find. Your bottle is too far away from you right now (about fifteen floors away, under your table). The wetness of her cunt is really helping you here.

“What a slut,” you sneer at her, as she whimpers in response to the degrading name. “Look at you, all wet for me.”

“P–Please, boss,” she pleads, her voice shaken with unrelenting desire. Her body is trembling with unbridled anticipation.

“Please what, Zuha?”

“Please f–fuck my ass, I–I need it,” she whines, and you couldn’t be happier to fulfill her wish.

You rest your tip at the entrance of her ass—teasing, playing with her. She whines at the act, as if she really wants your cock inside her ass so fucking bad (she does). Your cock in all glistened in her slick juice, ready to fuck her rear hole raw.

And slowly, and carefully, you push your cock into her tightness, inch by inch. Her body trembles as you find yourself inside her once more. She cries out in bliss. The lubricant definitely helps.

“F–Fuck, nghhh.”

You respond to her moans by pushing ever further into her ass. Your body presses onto her more and more, feeling her damp back, gathering her sweat on your body. The warmth around your cock is just too much. She grips you like a vice. 

“Goddamn it, Zuha. Is this your first time in the ass?” you grunt. Your voice is raspy.

“Nghhh, n–no, boss. This is my second time, b–but I–I’ve never cum from that,” she whines. Her hands are pressed against the mirror harshly. You’ll have to be more gentle if you don’t want to break this expensive reflective wall.

You keep pushing and pushing, and finally, you are buried deep up to the hilt. The tightness of her ass is just unreal. A loud moan escapes your lips. Fuck, she’s tight, too tight.

You stay inside the depth of her ass for a few more seconds, feeling yourself inside of her tight ass. You’re hoping that she’s at least enjoying this a little bit.

She does, after all, moaning and writhing like that.

“You love this, don’t you, Zuha? You love having my cock inside your ass like this,” you taunt her, rewarding you with breathless whimpers and moans out of her lips.

“I–I love it, b–boss,” she answers, stuttered and shaken. The sensation is just too much for her. Your hands snake up her body to her small breast, a pair that’s unforgettable for you. You decide to give her nipples some soft treatment with your filthy hands, rubbing them between your fingers.

“Look at you, your nipples are all hard for me.” You run the sides of your fingers up and down her nipples, feeling them between your digits. She lets out guttural grunts and groans in pleasure. “What a goddamn slut.”

“Nghhn.”

After what feels like an eternity inside her ass—so warm, so tight—you draw your hips backwards. Her walls are grazing your cock, making the retreat so damn ecstatic. You pull back until half of your cock is out of her puckered hole, before pushing yourself back in. You let out primal moans with it.

“God, fuck!”

Her ass feels so tight, so right.

You start to find your pace in ravaging Kazuha’s ass. You set the rhythm in fucking her properly. The room reeks of sex, no matter how big it is. The only thing filling your nostrils right now is the smell of Kazuha’s sweat and something that screams her.

Your hands are still kneading Kazuha’s small breasts enthusiastically. Touching them fills you with unbridled joy. They feel so–soft, so–firm in your hands, as you plow into her ass with no abandon.

“Fucking love these tits, Zuha,” you utter. The words come out before you can suppress it. Your mind is filled with the sensation of fucking her ass and groping her tits. “So–soft, so–small.”

“Nghhh, th–thanks, boss,” she cries out, her voice feeling like she’s unable to make sense of what’s going on anymore. It’s just too overwhelming for her. Your cock inside her ass, your hands on her breasts, your smell, your grunts. It’s too much she might have hit the third peak of the day.

Her eyes flutter in bliss—that’s what you see in the mirror. She keens, and you love the way she does it. Her voice reeks of complete submission for you. Her smell is driving you insane. It’s making your grunts more raw, more primal, more animalistic.

You reach out to grab her face. You’re trying not to make it harsh. You don’t want to hurt her. Her moans are interrupted with a gasp. She’s shocked at the sudden contact on her face. She definitely is.

You move in for a kiss.

It’s sloppy, unrefined. There’s no tenderness in it, no romance, no lovey-dovey bullshit. Your hands are still freely groping Kazuha's breasts like they’re yours (they’re yours). Your tongue invades her mouth, gathering her taste. She’s definitely salty—all the sweat and such.

She finally catches the tempo of the kiss, finally holding on her own. Your tongues are now intertwined in a battle for dominance, trying to taste each other as much as possible. The sound of kissing rings inside your head. It’s far from romantic. It’s sloppy. It’s primal. It’s raw.

“Mmmph, fuck,” she utters as you’re still ramming into her ass. Occasional moans into your mouth can be heard. She finds pleasure in it, and you’re happy that she does.

And you pull back. A string of saliva is still connecting your mouths together. It’s vulgar. It’s obscene. That fits. You rest your forehead on Kazuha’s. It feels so intimate. You’re so close to her. You can feel the warmth emanating from her, see her sweat running down, see her pores, and you can only think to yourself: fuck, she really is an angel.

“I’ll get that solo for you, Zuha,” you say, forehead touching hers. Your mouth feels empty without her tongue. It feels great having her inside your mouth.

“B–Better keep th–that promise, boss,” she replies, voice barely holding itself together.  “I’ll fucking join aespa if it’s an empty one.”

You let out a chuckle. She definitely won’t do it, but it’s not like you’re flippant. 

“Sure. It’d be suck to lose another member,” you answer her with a smile. You’re trying to make it as sincere as you can.

You keep pounding into her ass, chasing both of your orgasms. Your hands roam down back to her small, slutty waist. Her breathing grows frantic. You can see the goosebumps on her arms. She’s close. She’s close.

“F–Fuck, a–again, gonna cum again,” she rasps. Her voice is barely holding itself together. Her walls contract around your cock.

Her dam breaks. Her nectar leaks out of her cunt onto the floor. Some of it spills onto your cock, some spill onto your feet. She lets out a primal grunt, spurring you on to fuck her ass with‌ even more roughness. You plow her puckered hole through her orgasm. She’s sensitive, but you don’t fucking care. You couldn’t care any fucking less. You have to cum inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass.

You buck your hips into Kazuha with reckless abandon. Fuck the other women if they’re going to hear this. You’re more than willing to let them know who owns this angel. It’s you. It’s you. Your hands roam over every curve and contour of her body, feeling her smooth skin on your hand. You know it’s hyperbolic, but she’s nothing short of perfection.

Her moans remain guttural and raw. They’re echoing through this practice room, and you’re damn sure that no sounds can be as ethereal as that. Her body, god, her body, you are going to keep dreaming about it forever. Her ass feels utterly divine. She wraps your cock in a way that’s so damn flawless, and it’s like she was made for your cock and your cock only.

You can feel it. The rising current inside you. It runs through your body. It’s electric. It’s going to burst. You’re going to cum inside your employee’s ass, and you couldn’t have found any better situation to be in.

“Here’s what I’m going to do, Zuha,” you order. Your voice couldn’t be stronger than this. Your grips on her waist tighten. “I’m going to fucking cum inside your ass, and you’re going to take it like a good girl you are, alright?”

“Nghhngn, y–yes, boss,” she groans, her voice breaking into pieces. She’s broken already.

It’s there, that familiar feeling inside your loins. You quicken and quicken your pace, pounding into Kazuha’s ass with an unmatched aggression. Your cock is throbbing inside her, so ready to explode. Your breathing is erratic. It’s all culminating in this. You’re going to cum.

“Gonna–Gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her as fast as you can. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You lose yourself for the second time of the day, this time inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass. You can see stars. White spurts paint the inner walls of her. Your body convulses, shaking in bliss. You grunt loudly. Your cock twitches inside her rear hole. The way she keens rings inside your ear as she feels the cum paint her walls. Fuck.

Your cock keeps shooting ropes and ropes of cum into her ass. It feels utterly divine, the way her ass hugs your cock so damn tightly. You press Kazuha against the wall, trapping her in your embrace, forcing her to take all of your cum. She screams in pure pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you groan, as you slowly come down from the earth-shattering orgasm you just had. Both of you are panting in exhaustion. It was tiring. It was mind-breaking.

You drag your spent cock out of her tight ass. Both of you groan in oversensitivity. Cum slowly leaks out of her ass. You’re all limp, and so is she.

Kazuha still can’t seem to catch her breath. She turns around to face you, face all flushed, mouth hanging open before slowly retreating onto the floor. She’s exhausted, and so are you.

You look down to face her. Your hands are resting on the wall, trying to hold you up with all the forces they have left. Your cock is all sore from the act, and you’re going to need a good sleep after this.

“God,” she utters, smiling. “That was–that was fun, huh?”

“Y–Yeah, that was fun,” you reply with a chuckle. The mood lightens up. The lust earlier is now replaced by comfort. You feel the air thinning. It’s not as tense as before.

You sit down next to Kazuha, head resting on the mirror. The trace of her body can be seen on the wall. It’s imprinted, dirty. You don’t really care. Let the staff see it.

You look around the room, trying to cool down from the debauchery, before Kazuha rests her head on your shoulder. You feel the unfamiliar warmth from her head. It’s–comforting.

“Promise me you’ll get me that solo.” She brings up her pinky finger.

It wasn’t supposed to be much more than a currency. Robotic. Mechanical. Transactional. Though, as you experience through it, you somehow find retreat in it. The act, even if as rough as it was, brings out the side you’ve never seen in her, and something you thought you’d never shown to anyone else. It’s weirdly comforting to you. And maybe, just maybe, the two of you might look forward to another encounter where you fuck her brainless again, and you might learn a few more things about her, and she’d share more of her with you, being each other’s solace against the world.

“I promise.”

—

[theveil-and-thepath]

Your Christmas BAG of MIRACLES- PAC n° 10

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!

11 small miracles that will happen before christmas. Pick a picture, then pick the miracles that resonate with you.

*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*

Pile 1

Snake , Key , Dog

A friend or a spirit guide will help you deal with difficult people in your life, they will advise you what you need to do in order to get what you need from them. If someone has been gatekeeping you from entering a place, they will let you in.

Birds , Bouquet , Coffin

There may be gossip that you will receive an inheritance, or that after a staff change you will be the one chosen be promoted to replace a higher up, as if people are saying you wlll get a management position.

Bear , Sun , Heart

You will receive help from an important person, it may be a favour from a boss, a parent, or an overprotective romantic partner.

Crossroad , Mice , Scythe

Sometimes you question yourself whether you should smash the little spider that you see at your house, or gently lead her outside. This time you will smash it, but it is not a bug, it is a person or a habit. You will be very decisive and remove any chance of come back of this bad person or habit, no gentleness.

Book , Stork , Clover

You will start to study a topic that will bring fortune to your life. Perhaps it is a business opportunity that you will devise.

Stars , Lily , Garden

The holiday's parties will go amazing for you. You will be looking beautiful and hot, you may even meet your crush or loved one at one of these (maybe school dinner or company party). If you are manifestng something big for one those events with many people, it WILL happen!

Anchor , Tree , Child

Someone in your family will give birth to a baby, adopt a child, adopt a pet, your pet could give birth too. Young ones in your family will recover from any illness or be allowed to leave the hospital. Good news of birth and health in the family.

Fish , House , Clouds

You may delay renovation plans for your house, or delay the purchase of a house or postpone a relocation date until you have more certainty about your finances.

Moon , Tower , Ship

It is kind of late for that, but you may receive an acceptance letter to study abroad in a good institution. An elder person may decide to mentor you and they will do it from their heart.

Fox , Rider , Mountain

You will become aware in case a shady person is trying to hinder your professional growth or plot something against you.

Woman , Letter , Ring

Your girlfriend may propose to you (or your girl crush may confess, or YOU may confess your feelings if you're a woman). Or a woman will give her blessing to your current relationship. For everyone else it is a good time for texting loved ones and renovating the emotional commitments you have in your life. People will be greatful if you send them a Merry Christmas e-mail or text.

🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

Pile 2

Stars , Tower , Dog

You will have a good time at university, school, or the place you go for religion. Maybe one fo your friend in those places will be supportive of you.

Tree , Ship , Mice

You may meet a cousin you dislike lol You will have clarity on family matters that have been hidden for a long time.

Woman , Moon , Sun

There is a feeling of empowerment and perfect balance of your feminine and masculine energies. You will be feeling powerful and capable of doing rituals for manifestation.

Snake , Child , Bear

You will step up to protect your little sibling, cousin, any child under your care, or someone you perceive weaker or in need of help. There is deliverance from danger, you will either witness it or enact it towards a smaller one (it can be you holding your brother's arm so he doesn't get hit by a car). Alternatively, you may stand up for yourself or your inner child somehow.

Lily , Bouquet , Mountain

There will be progress in a romantic relationship. For those who are dating the same person for years, or started to date with this intention to build a family or get married, you will experience joy in this connection and maybe a level up.

Clover , Ring , Fox

You will be able to afford the wedding band or the expensive gift you want! It may go on sale or you will find a better one at a good price. You can also enter an agreement with a person who's savy and skilled and this will be mutually beneficial.

Crossroad , Fish , Coffin

You will decline an opportunity for making money. I don't know why this is a miracle. Maybe you will avoid being schamed by someone online.

Stork , Key , Whip

"This time you do it right". After much pain, you learned your lesson and will not repeat the same mistake. You will act upon something and do so correctly, that is possible because you have learned a painful lesson in the past.

Letter , Clouds , Scythe

You receive an appology or clarification about something.

Birds , Rider , Anchor

Good and long awaited news arrive. You won't be able to keep it a secret. It feels like your mom read your acceptance email before you did, or someone else heard the news you will change jobs or your life is improving. You'll get something good and the news will fly (not from your mouth, but people will know).

Book , Man , Garden

You can join a bookclub, a study group, a secret society even (or a discord server with few selected members). You may find love in your small circle of friends.

🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

Pile 3

Bear , Lily , Whip

Please ignore if that is not for you, but for those who are into it you may have a hot steamy night of sex. Good for dom/sub dynamics and bdsm. Very sexual and lustful vibes. Rich man just spotted a sugar baby vibes as well. Read it as it fits you.

Key , House , Birds

If you are very young, your parents may give you a copy of the keys to the house. Some of you will be able to have a sleepover with friends and it will be super fun! Events you host at home will be full of people, lots of conversation and great interactions there.

Fish , Crossroad , Fox

You will take an important step regarding financial freedom that may require you to be "selfsih". Don't feel bad about it.

Clover , Ship , Tower

Good news from abrod or about education. I think you will do well in your finals at school or get a well deserved bonus at work.

Ring , Scythe , Tree

Some of you will talk to your family about moving out from their place, or moving in with your partner, or your partner/friend may invite you to move in with them. For some, you will talk to your partner that you need a time in the relationship to give attention to your family members.

Mountain , Stars , Book

A good period for study or work, keep putting effort towards reaching your goal.

Man , Clouds , Sun

You will figure out where you stand in a man's life. Revelations about a romantic prospect or crush, you will stop wondering whether they love you or not.

Stork , Mice , Anchor

Please let go of things that harm you, do not bring them with you in this new year or new phase of your life. Make a good transtion on stable ground, make sure of that, drop the shit that was once in your plate, please.

Rider , Moon , Snake

You may need to deal with some issues or complicated people. I knwo this is a miracles reading, but maybe dealing with them now will be good for you in the long term. It may be the right time for it because perhaps this person avoid you, but now you two will have a chance to solve things. Not make peace, just dealing with them somehow, you don't like their energy, they make you doubt yourself.

Woman , Heart , Bouquet

You will receive a lot of praise! Favourable time for love and romance, you can receive a gift or go to a nice place on a date.

Letter , Dog , Child

Good news from a friend. Maybe a childhood friend will wish you Merry Christmas. Maybe someone will be gifted with a puppy!!!

🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

Pile 4

Letter , Heart , Bouquet

Love, love, love, and good news. Maybe a love confession, but I see it in an existing relationship or connection.

Coffin , Bear , Mountain

You may raise from the ashes somehow. People thought you were out of the game but you are not and they will see it! You are stronger than you think.

Book , Anchor , Man

You will receive solid advice from an elder. Favourable time for school, mentorships or dealing with professors (not bosses tho).

Stork , Clover , Stars

"The start of something new", the High School Musical song, comes to my mind. You will feel happy and hopeful about 2025 or your future in general.

Fish , Snake , Birds

Beware of the people who are close to you just because you have money or status or a good public image, they are hoping your good luck rubs off on them by being close to you. You may suspect that someone close to you is double faced.

Rider , Moon , Child

Fertile period for those who want to get pregnant, possibly just as good for getting a new animal pet as well. I see a child crying either of a minor injury or of joy because they suddenly stop. Any anxiety you have will be brief.

Scythe , Tower , House

You may feel alone at your home, but since this is a miracles reading I will say that you may have a well deserved break from annoying family members.

Crossroad , Key , Mice

You will make a decision fast, before it is too late, and because of being fast you will not lose any opportunities. The time is now to decide.

Sun , Ring , Tree

You may attend a wedding, or the family holiday parties will be very happy.

Garden , Ship , Fox

If you have any online business, the end of the year will bring an influx of new clients. Your marketing efforts for your business or personal marketing strategy will go well. Many customers or many people from afar will hear from you and work work.

Clouds , Whip , Lily

The theme of domestic violence or violence against women may be something you deal with in these days. I think you may advise a friend about it, so they leave a toxic relationship. You may be conflicted about a person with whom you have casual sex, you fear it may not go well. Since it is a miracles reading, you may step away from a weird situation like this.

[tonythr]

We need to talk about the Pale King's foresight ability

Ok, I waited a very long time to make this post. The story of the Pale King is my favorite aspect of the whole narrative of Hollow Knight, and there's so much mystery surrounding it that I can't not think about it on a daily basis. There are a bunch of questions left unanswered, and I believe that most (if not all) answers were left in the game specifically so that players could interpret them the way they think is best. So I wanna see what interpretations ARE there and maybe pick one (or two. or three. or all of them. or maybe really just one.) I dunno. Anyway, the point is, this is probably gonna be a long one. Big shoutout to anyone who makes it all the way to the end.

Now, enough with the rambling. To the point.

It all starts with the mushrooms.

The part that started all this train of thought was this particular line.

Unlike other areas of the game, Fungal Wastes don't have a boss that correlates with the area's native species. The shrooms don't have a higher being they worship. They don't have a civilization. They don't have a Dreamer. All they have is this big old mushroom elder that sleeps eternally with this one thought in their mind. All this to say that this line here is *probably* hella important.

The lore tablets of the Wastes also echo it.

So keep this in mind: when the Wyrm, reincarnated as the Pale King, started building and expanding his Kingdom (it's safe to assume that he started doing that AFTER he turned into his bug form) and got to the part where he had to make an alliance with The Mushrooms, they agreed to be a part of Hallownest ONLY because they knew that the Pale King had an ability to predict the future. Remember, they looked down on all the bugs that weren't part of their mycelium-sharedSelf-mindUnited thing. They were perfectly happy with their way of life. They didn't need the Pale King's gift of mind. The only reason they agreed to accept his will was because of his foresight ability. They assumed that, since he can see what's going to happen in the future, he will protect them (along with the rest of his Kingdom) from any possible danger. And that was a smart decision.

And yet, it didn't work out. And not just for them. For the whole Kingdom.

The main question is why.

From the way the mushrooms talk about the Wyrm, we can assume that his foresight ability didn't quite suck, which is to say that he really COULD see a big part of what's going to happen. So basically, we have two possibilities:

A. The PK's foresight didn't allow him to see *too* far into the future. It had its limitations. Maybe he could see what was going to happen in an age from now, but he couldn't predict *everything*.

B. The PK's foresight could reach as far as all eternity, meaning he knew the 'Eternal Kingdom' was doomed to fail from the moment he started building it.

In any case, Elder Mushroom's words suggest that, at one point, PK actually KNEW his Kingdom was going to fail.

And, since the most important part of his story is his battle with the Radiance (like, what else would the Mushroom be talking about?), I think it means that he potentially knew that the Hollow Knight was going to fail, but created and Sealed it anyway. So, the question is:

If the Pale King could see that his plan of creating an empty vessel to seal the Radiance would inevitably fail, why did he go through with it in the first place?

Here's the first, most simple answer.

He knew that the Infection was inevitable, so he decided to postpone it indefinitely. Hit the snooze button, but make it last forever.

Actually, that's not even an answer. This is just a straight-up fact.

Hallownest is literally frozen in time.

(Actually, I think it's so frozen that sometimes it makes rocks levitate)

The Hollow Knight's sacrifice was made SPECIFICALLY so the inevitable arrival of the Infection could be set back for all eternity. That's why the game has a big leitmotif of night and day.

That's why the Radiance's main goal is for the Dawn to Break. Because she's the Sun, and what she's fighting against is an eternal night.

But now we're entering the mystery zone. There are two questions about PK's foresight ability that have to be answered in order to understand what's actually happening.

Question 1. Does freezing time also freeze the foresight? If the Kingdom is left in a stasis without a changing future, can PK still see past that stasis? Could he see when it would end? If so, could he see what will happen after it ends?

Question 2. Is Time actually predictable? Is there just one timeline where everything that happens was doomed to happen in the first place, OR are there infinite possibilities and some room for the free will? If so, can the future be changed if one knows what actions will have what consequences? And if so, are there things that are actually inevitable, no matter the choices?

Whatever the answers to both of those questions are, I want to emphasize this:

Those lines spoken by the Radiance, along with the Elder Mushroom's words about a demise unavoidable, as well as some other things I'll mention later, make me think that the Infection and the Radiance's rise to power is an event that was truly inevitable.

Here, it doesn't matter if the free will is real or not. Remember: in the Pantheon of Hallownest, the Radiance ranks higher than the Pale King. She is a candidate for a God of Gods title, the highest of the Higher Beings. So maybe PK could shape the future with his knowledge of it. Maybe his foresight actually protected his Kingdom by preventing some bad things that he, as a Pale Being, had power over. But the power of the Radiance was stronger than that. She had the strength to assert her dominating will in every possible timeline, so that, even with his foresight, the Wyrm couldn't do anything to stop the Dawn from Breaking. After all, it's the power of Nature itself - the day always inevitably comes to replace the night.

So that's the entire reason the King decided to use the Void in his battle with the Radiance. The Forgotten Light had the ability to conquer Fate. But the Void, in his own words, had the ability to deny Time itself.

So, even if the Infection was inevitable, the power of Void could either prevent it, postpone it, or straight-up defeat it. I think that the reason for this is that the Void possesses a will that is stronger than any Higher Being. The Night and Day can follow each other, but the force that represents the End itself is beyond that.

So, now we're gonna ask the REAL question.

With the Void being able to deny Time, could the Pale King see the future the Void's actions will bring?

And for that, I have two facts that suggest that PK, in fact, couldn't at least foresee SOME of the Void's choices.

The first one is the fact that the game has multiple endings.

Look into those eyes and tell me that they're looking at something that could have been predicted and prevented by a dead monarch, albeit a godly one. The existence of multiple endings tells us that free will IS real, at least for The Knight/The Shade Lord.

Oh and speaking of dead monarchs, here's the next fact.

That man is fucking dead.

The Pale King's whole deal was to last eternally, right? To build a life that would ensure his endless reign. To achieve immortality.

So if he could see what was going to happen after he let the Void into the picture, why would he still try that despite it clearly leading to his demise?

The nature of PK's death is mysterious, to say the least. He didn't just die of old age. He tried to run away, bringing his whole Palace along with him to the Dream World. He tried to run away from something - probably from the consequences of his own actions. But even that escape didn't save him from being killed. And what killed him was most definitely the Void.

The throne room is dark.

In fact, it's so dark that the Kinght has to pull out the lumafly lantern. The only other room in the entire White Palace where that happens is the workshop, where PK worked on creating the Kingsmoulds and the Wingsmoulds. The space is filled with black smoke and black particles - the same ones that are seen in the Abyss and many areas that are located above it. When the Kinght strikes the Pale King's body with the Nail, it sounds the same as striking a training dummy outside of Oro's hut, which is made out of a lifeless husk. It's like the Pale King's body was literally hollowed out.

The form that was given to the Void by the Pale King to create the Kingsmoulds guarding the throne room is lost here, implying that it gained some other will that was beyond the Pale King's control.

And again, the only other place we see something like that is the Palace Grounds in the waking world.

...Which are located just above the Void Sea. Also, the same smoke and particles surround the place, and black tentacle-like vines reach inside the body of the Kingsmould containing the Palace.

No need to doubt. It was definitely the Void that killed the Pale King.

But what does it mean?

Well, here's some important info about the Void. It is a manifestation of this world's regrets.

If you look deep enough, it makes a lot of sense for the Void to symbolize literal regret. The Shade is a manifestation of the Knight's regrets about what went wrong on its journey. The Void Sea in the Abyss is probably the regrets of the Ancient Civilization's dead bugs. And the Void that surrounds the Palace Grounds and the Pale King's throne room is a manifestation of his own regrets. That's why he couldn't escape from the Void even in the Dream World. Because you can't escape your own guilt, your own darkness, your own regret. That's also the reason why the Knight has the right to sit on the throne after striking down the Pale King: it's because, at that point, the Kinght is set on a path that includes facing its own regrets, accepting them and uniting them under its will. Something the Pale King failed to do.

But the question remains: what exactly were those regrets that the Pale King was running from and that ultimately killed him? I mean, of course, it's the whole deal with the vessels that he regretted, but I think there's more to that. I want to lay down a list of theories about his foresight. Each of them can also explain which specific regret got him the most.

Each theory would also change the interpretation of this famous line:

...Which is important. Obviously, this line refers to the Vessels being sacrificed in order to create a Pure one, but, depending on the possible range of PK's future vision, it can have an additional, deeper meaning. You'll see what I mean.

But first, there's some other issue here that needs to be addressed, that makes this whole discussion twice as complicated. It's all about this one line:

So, here's another fucking question. Does harnessing the Void by creating the Vessels and the Moulds make those creations a part of what the Pale King could see with his foresight ability?

There's some kind of scale here that varies from 'There are multiple endings that depend on that one Vessel's choice, so that means the Void is outside of the PK's ability to predict the future' to 'The Vessels and the Moulds are the Void that is harnessed by the Pale King, so his future vision applies to them as well; it's just that the Knight gains the power to choose the ending only when it takes control over its own Void by gaining the Void Heart'. So, what if the Pale King could foresee that the Knight would be able to defeat the Radiance in the dream world? What if he couldn't see the Knight's arrival at all? What if he COULD see it, but his vision only applied to the events of the Hollow Knight ending, the only one that doesn't include the Void Heart? What if even the Embrace the Void ending was visible to the Pale King after all, as one of many possibilities he didn't pay too much attention to?

But the Knight is one thing. What about the Hollow Knight? Was its failure a part of the future PK could see? Or, since THK is a Vessel too, its choices were off limits as well? What about the Kingsmoulds? Was the fact that they would succumb to the Void that was going to kill PK available for him?

None of these questions have a clear answer. Probably. Or maybe they do. But there are multiple explanations for what was really going on. I'll try to present them as a list of theories. Each of them will give us a different interpretation of the Pale King's foresight ability's true nature.

PK didn't know what the Void would do but decided to try using it anyway.

PK only saw that the Void would help the Hollow Knight seal the Radiance, but his vision was limited (either because it was limited by its nature (option A, see above), or because the stasis created by the void limited his abilities (question 1, see above)), and so he didn't see that the Hollow Knight would break.

PK knew the Hollow Knight was going to fail but doomed his Kingdom anyway.

PK only saw the timeline where the Knight seals the Radiance without killing her. Every other ending besides The Hollow Knight was beyond PK's foresight.

PK knew that there were multiple possibilities once the Pandora's box was opened, but he saw that one of those possibilities was the Void successfully sealing the Radiance and/or killing her, so he decided to roll the dice. So he could see that Dream No More was possible, but he didn't consider Embrace the Void.

Each of these theories holds some interesting interpretations. Let's take a closer look.

I'll use a timeline to mark the possible range of PK's vision for each theory:

Just to clear things out: when I talk about what PK could or couldn't see, I mean what he could or couldn't see while using his powers at any point before his death. It IS possible that he saw some things when it was already too late to do something. That's what I was talking about when discussing possibilities A and B above (so maybe he saw that THK would break before he even made the Vessels, or maybe he figured it out only after it got sealed). Every theory accounts for that. It's complicated. You know what? Nevermind this whole disclaimer. I'll get to it.

Theory 1. The Void neutralizes the future vision

Basically, what this means is that once the Void got into the picture, the Pale King could no longer use his powers in any meaningful way. The Void, being a will that denies Time, created too many different possibilities for the King to account for, yet he decided to go through with the Hollow Knight plan just because he didn't see any other option.

The line 'No cost too great' in this case might refer not only to the Vessels being sacrificed, but to PK's foresight ability itself. The cost is his future vision, sacrificed to a state of uncertainty that might or might not bring salvation.

If this theory is true, the Pale King's story is a story about a monarch who, in his efforts to save his Kingdom from a wild force of radiant nature, accidentally unleashed something far beyond anyone's control and paid for it not only with his main ability, but with his life as well. Both the Vessels' and the Abyss' actions couldn't have been predicted, and that's why PK accidentally allowed for the Hollow Knight to break and for the forces of the Abyss to overpower him with his regrets about the countless children he murdered.

The risk he took is his main regret.

The flaw of this theory is that, if it's true, it means that:

a) The Elder Mushroom was completely wrong about PK being able to foresee the second coming of the Infection.

b) Harnessing the Void doesn't do shit besides changing its form. Even while being contained inside a semi-sentient Vessel, its actions don't bend to the Pale King's will or his foresight ability.

All in all, this theory basically means that both Pale King's powers and his judgment sucked, and the whole collapse of Hallownest happened because he was incompetent, reckless and stupid.

(That's why I don't like it)

TL;DR: The Void does what it pleases regardless of the Pale King's future vision, and he was stupid for trying to use it.

Theory 2. The Hollow Knight's failure was beyond the Pale King's future vision

This is probably a very controversial one, but it does have some interesting implications. The point is that PK didn't see that the Hollow Knight would fail, and so he went through with the plan thinking it was flawless.

In this case, the Hollow Knight counts as a 'harnessed' part of the Void, so its actions up until its breaking were completely predictable. The Pale King saw that the Infection would be sealed successfully, and that a stasis would be created. He got what he wanted, but at some point (could be any point) he realized that he didn't know if anything was going to happen next.

That could happen for one of the two reasons:

The stasis created by the Pale King literally meant that the time was frozen, which meant that nothing relevant wasn't going to happen unless this stasis would somehow break. But, while inside this state of stasis, the Pale King himself couldn't see anything beyond that state. What future vision is there if there's no actual future?

The future vision was clouded by the Pale King's inevitable death. It's possible that, while looking into the future, PK couldn't see the Hollow Knight breaking simply because his future vision doesn't allow him to see beyond the moment of his own death.

Anyway, what this theory suggests is that the main thing the Pale King didn't or couldn't predict was his own death. Or maybe at some later point he saw it was coming and tried to run away from it by hiding his Palace, but the Void got him anyway. It happened because the Void that destroyed the Kingsmoulds' bodies and killed the Pale King was a force beyond anyone's control an beyond PK's foresight.

A major proof of that is the situation with this guy:

Notice how they apologize directly to the Pale King, and how the Void slowly took over their mind. This guy was a royal retainer, which means the King probably ordered them to keep the lighthouse running himself.

The question is, why did he take such a half-assed measure to keep a whole Sea of raw dark power at bay? It looks so stupid! Just one lighthouse for a whole unchecked Void Sea? And just ONE lighthouse keeper who couldn't even resist the Call of the Void? Why such carelessness?

The answer is right here. That was because the Pale King simply DID NOT KNOW what the Void Sea was actually capable of, because its power (unlike the power of the Void trapped inside the King's children's bodies) was beyond his foresight. Without a clear answer from his future vision, he figured that this Void might or might not be an issue and decided that he had more important stuff to deal with instead of even hiring a whole team to watch one lighthouse.

So, while he managed to reach his goal creating a stasis that would keep his Kingdom lasting eternally, there was one thing he didn't account for, and that was the vengeful wrath of the dark force he dared to use as his plaything. The lighthouse was turned off, and the Void soon started to rise up through the rocks of the Ancient Basin towards the White Palace. The King tried to run, hiding himself and his Palace inside the Dream World, but the Void seeped in easily, killing the monarch. After all, the Kingsmould that was used as a gate to the Palace was also made out of Void.

If this theory is true, then the line 'No cost too great' could refer not only to the Vessels, but also to himself. If he didn't know that the Hollow Knight would break, then he probably thought that his Kingdom WOULD last forever, and that even his own death wouldn't change that. So he sacrificed his own life, gave in to his regrets about everything bad he had done, but managed to save one glimmer of pride, thinking that, even though he killed a bunch of children and abused the Void, he still managed to deliver eternal happiness to all his subjects.

But the thing about this theory is that now we also need to explain why the Radiance broke free despite everything the Pale King thought he did. Here, this theory divides into two additional theories (I'm really sorry for this long-ass post):

Theory 2.1: The Radiance is like 'Nah, I'd win'

Basically, PK's plan to achieve eternal life for his Kingdom at the cost of his own life was actually good. There was no flaw in it, and it should've worked perfectly. But we know that the Radiance might be a being that is higher than PK on the power scale. So, just like the Void, her actions might be beyond what PK's foresight ability could help him see. PK did everything right (not morally), but the Radiance broke through anyway because she's just... that much better.

Theory 2.2: The death of the King is what triggered the whole thing

Going back to the Void's actions messing with the future the Pale King could predict, I say it's possible that his own death, caused by the Void, is what made the stasis wear off.

Think of it this way. The Hollow Knight contained the Infection, but that merely eliminates the possibility of a HIGHER FORCE enacting some sort of change. Preventing EVERYTHING ELSE from breaking the stasis is the job for the Pale King himself. But, once the Void (another higher force) kills him, there's no one that could keep the stasis running, and it just... ends. That gives the Radiance (as a force of change, opposed to a state of frozen time) an opportunity to break free.

Or maybe it was the Sealed Vessel that was affected by the Pale King's death. After all, we probably know what its only thought (the one that ruined everything) was:

So, the Pale King dies, the Hollow Knight senses that a familiar presence is starting to slip away, which makes the Vessel panic (or something like that), and the Radiance makes her move, infecting its mind.

OR it could be both of those things! Maybe the Hollow Knight's attachment to its father AND the Radiance's insane higher power both played a role in filling up the power vacuum that was left after PK died.

Anyway yeah, that's it for this theory. The only thing left to discuss is the new interpretation it gives us for the line spoken by the Elder Mushroom:

'A demise unavoidable', in this case, refers to the demise of the Pale King himself. He didn't necessarily foresee that his death would lead to the destruction of Hallownest, but at some point he might've figured out that the Void was coming to get him but decided to stick with his plan anyway. But then it raises the question of when and how the Elder Mushroom learned about the Pale King's demise, and why they assumed that he could see it coming. That's the main issue with this whole theory: it just doesn't explain how the Mushroom's line fits into all of this.

TL;DR: The Void killing the Pale King is the only thing that he couldn't foresee in the long run, and even if he could do that at some point, the consequences of his death AND/OR the Radiance's actions were beyond his control.

Theory 3. Self-fulfilling prophecy

Ok, so now we're on the theory that I personally consider the closest to canon, or at least the implications of canon that we have. This is also the one theory that brings (some kind of) consistency to this whole question. This is because it explains the earlier question of how the future vision actually works.

See, there's no way the Pale King actually knew that the Hollow Knight would break from the very start, right?

Why would he doom his Kingdom when all of his actions were meant to prevent that? In fact, that's exactly the question that the Elder Mushroom is asking.

"Pale Wyrm... What good to foresee a demise unavoidable?"

Well, the answer here is actually kinda simple this time.

He saw it coming, and he tried to postpone it.

This is the simplest explanation possible, because we already have all the proof right here on the table.

The King sees that the Infection will come, and that it is inevitable (the inevitability is the key part).

He knows that, when the predicted moment comes, the Radiance will return and wreck his shit. No matter the timeline, no matter the choice. The flow of Time itself inevitably leads to the Infection happening.

The only option is to use a force that is able to deny time itself. The solution is to use the Void to metaphysically freeze the very flow of Time itself. The plan is not to try to change what is meant to happen, but to create a stasis that makes it so that it never comes to it. The timer never reaches zero. The eternal snooze button.

The stasis, however, dampens the foresight ability. If there's no flow of Time, the King can't see what's going to happen.

[A little digression: For the purpose of proving this theory, let's say that the foresight ability works better the closer the observer is to the moment that is being observed.

For example, while looking into the future from a point in time before a big war, the observer CAN see that the war will end on a certain date, but only when that date comes closer to them can they see HOW the war will end, and WHO will end it, and any other detail.]

The stasis wears off because of the Radiance's power (like in theory 2.1).

The King is finally able to see the exact nature of the Infection breaking free. He sees that the Hollow Knight itself, the Vessel he personally created to be the only key to the Kingdom's salvation, will be the reason everything goes to hell.

Wracked with guilt and regret, he escapes to the dream realm before the break happens so that he can at least save himself and his palace.

The Void makes a move that the King could or couldn't foresee, killing him. He thinks about the 'no cost too great' philosophy one last time before realizing that it is, in fact, utter bullshit. He dies with a feeling of everything he built crumbling to dust and his core belief being proven faulty.

The Infection breaks free, having harnessed the Hollow Knight, as inevitable as always. With the King being dead, there's no power to uphold the time stasis, which becomes the final push. The Vessel breaks.

Only then the Kingdom sees the arrival of a void being that has the potential to actually change things from their set course. The Knight, being a part of the Void that was beyond the Pale King's future vision range, enacts an end of its own choosing.

This ties to the game's themes of determinism, and flashes out the Kinght's strength to break free from the fate's chains, empowering the player and making the whole plot twist with the final battle against the Radiance even more epic.

The monarch who justified killing his own children by his desire to prevent the higher will from destroying his artificially made Kingdom has succumbed to a force beyond his control, becoming a part of a self-fulfilling prophecy. The chosen hair of its father's will becomes the reason why the inevitable finally happens. The only one who is free of obligations, desires and beliefs becomes the one to save the Kingdom once and for all, avenging the deaths of its kin. Beautiful.

And the Mushrooms who probably just didn't believe in the stasis from the start turned out to be right, smugly reminding us that it was always inevitable and PK couldn't do shit. There's no good in seeing a demise unavoidable, and it's foolish to make sacrifices to postpone it.

What the Pale King lacked was acceptance. The ability to embrace the true nature of things.

Something that is the main ability and the main character arc for the Knight, whose nature is to consume and to use its will to make even the darkest shadows become a part of it.

A little spoiler though: this theory has another variation that is even cooler. I'll leave it for the very end.

TL;DR: The King knew that the Infection was inevitable from the very start. He tried to postpone it. He failed, becoming a part of a self-fulfilling prophecy. When he figured it out, it was already too late, so he fled and was then killed by the Void.

Theory 4. The Masterplan

Ok, so, while the previous theory was probably the one closest to the canon implications, there are still a couple of possibilities that make this WHOLE thought process worth the time spent on it, because the mere CHANCE of this one theory being true makes the whole game feel even more nuanced. It's not even necessarily correct, but it's not about that. Team Cherry made the lore surrounding the Pale King's foresight ability vague enough for us to feel it's POSSIBLE that the whole plot was predicted by him. And that's how this narrative works: it allows the players to come up with different interpretations of itself, never proving or disproving any of the theories that it inevitably creates inside our heads.

So anyway yeah, what if the Pale King knew that another Vessel would usurp the Hollow Knight? What if THAT was his plan all along?

So, let's discuss a very important question.

How was the Hollow Knight chosen among other vessels? Why did that one child become the Pure Vessel while millions of others were left behind?

Well, judging by these lines and by the Birthplace cutscene, the trial to be chosen as the Hollow Knight was to climb up from the Abyss.

But why? How does scaling a huge pit prove a vessel hollow, and devoid of thought? Is it about the strength? Is it about not caring about other siblings who fall down? Is it about controlling one's inner Void in order to not succumb to the regret of the whole situation? Is it something like a sperm and an egg thing? A bug thing? Maybe it's all of those things. Maybe it's none of them. One thing we can assume, though, is this:

The Knight also passed this trial. It could have become the Hollow Knight. The reason it didn't was because the Pale King didn't see it and the Hollow Knight didn't care about it.

But in the end, it was the same reason why the Kinght became a more worthy candidate.

Think about it this way. If the Void is what is needed to seal the Light, and if the Void is created and channeled through regrets and past pain, what could be a better fuel for it than a father's abandonment and a sibling's indifference? Passing the life's trial but losing a chance to live anyway creates the strongest darkness, and that darkness is the reason the Knight becomes the best Vessel possible to do this task.

But it's not the only trial the Knight had to pass in order to qualify for this role.

(Notice the phrasing used in the Quirrel comic - 'ascend to that fabled land')

We don't know how it happened (Team Cherry teased us once about revealing it), but the Knight not only escaped the Abyss through some other path, but managed to leave Hallownest and then come back, purified by the mind-wiping winds. That's what Hornet says about it, too - she specifically states that the Knight's resilience was born of two voids: the one that's outside of the Kingdom and the one that's below it.

And we also know that many other Vessels attempted the same thing.

So basically, had any of them been more successful at the quest the Knight did succeed at, the Kingdom could have had a greater, if not near-infinite, amount of replacements for the Sealed Vessel. One Knight takes the Infection inside of itself, holds it in until the Infection inevitably starts to break free, but then another Knight arrives, answering its sibling's call for help, and the cycle continues. Convenient, huh?

Sounds like a thing some very perceptive godlike monarch could come up with as a plan to save his Kingdom.

It could ALSO explain why there are SO MANY Vessels in the Abyss. Maybe it's not about the White Lady being crazy horny. Maybe it was a part of the plan (which included the White Lady being crazy horny) all along. A way to measure up to eternity by creating an amount of heirs that no one would be able to count. Yes, it IS finite, but with THIS many spare Vessels it wouldn't really matter.

That said, there ARE some flaws in this theory. First, there's no live Vessels in the Abyss, so the ones that survived the Pale King's trial probably either died or left the Abyss already. And it's likely that there weren't too many of those who escaped, so maybe there weren't enough vessels after all. But then again, it only takes one to save the Kingdom for multiple ages, so who knows how that would work.

Second, as far as we know, the Knight was the only one who had the potential to actually seal the Radiance once and for all. Letting weaker vessels try to usurp the Hollow Knight would mean risking the Kingdom. But then again, that's what Hornet was there for. On the other hand, even she was surprised with how the Knight was able to defeat her, so either she didn't know about the Masterplan, or it was never real in the first place, and the Knight IS the one unique Vessel who has the strength to save Hallownest for good.

Honestly, I'm inclined to agree with the latter assumption solely because of the narrative weight of the Birthplace cutscene. I mean, there was no other vessel that was in the same position as the Knight. No one else had that same experience of passing the Abyss trial just in time to see the first Hollow Knight walk away with its father, who then shut the door in their face.

But anyway, this theory is still pretty valid. If it's correct, it would mean that:

a) The 'No cost too great' line spoken by PK at the moment of his death basically means 'Whatever bitches, I may be dead but Hallownest WILL last eternally because I had those Vessels ALL FIGURED OUT, and there's SHIT you can do about it now!'

b) All who doubted PK's plan are proven wrong, and the Mushrooms' smugness is worth nothing.

c) The Pale King's future vision is fucking OP.

...Whiiiich yeah, makes the Pale King look like the coolest mastermind in all fiction, but at the same time takes away the tragedy of his whole story and the uniqueness of our dear beloved Ghost Knight. Still fun to think about it tho.

TL;DR: The King knew that the Hollow Knight would break, so he had every other possible Vessel in mind as a replacement. The new Vessel would be the one who survived the Abyss, escaped, left Hallownest, and returned at the call of the previous Vessel. With millions of Vessels born, the cycle could have been repeated so many times that it wouldn't matter when the Abyss would run out of Vessels.

Theory 5. The Masterplan but cooler

Now THAT's what I personally consider a big stretch.

See, for THAT theory to be correct, the Pale King should have known the EXACT moves the Knight (and only the Knight) would take in order to defeat the Radiance one way or another. He should have accounted for things such as:

The Knight being left in the Abyss in the exact way that it was; broken mentally by the chance that was taken away from it.

His own death.

The Knight arriving to Hallownest, passing all the tests, getting the Dreamnail, breaking the Dreamers' Seals.

The Knight becoming the new Sealed Vessel in at least two of the possible timelines.

The White Lady gifting the Knight her part of Kingsoul.

The Knight successfully entering the White Palace, finding the King's corpse, and taking the second half of Kingsoul.

The Knight returning to the Birthplace, getting the Void Heart and uniting the Void.

The Knight entering the Hollow Knight's dream with Hornet's help and actually killing the Radiance by making the Void consume it.

I think there's exactly a 0.00001% chance of that being the case. But hey, it's possible!

Actually, I don't believe that. It just doesn't feel like that's what the canon implications are about. And then again, if that theory is correct, why couldn't the King predict the Embrace the Void ending? And I do believe that SHADE LORD wasn't on ANYONE'S bingo card at all (except for maybe that one goth bug who gives us the Shade Cloak). Or did the King just decide to risk it all by defeating one God of Gods by creating another, much stronger one? I really don't think so.

I think the Void's will, as well as the Knight's, has the nature to defy any type of fate or future vision. And once the Knight gains the power of the Void Heart, the future of Hallownest is entirely in its hands, and its choice is now inherently outside of anyone's foresight.

TL;DR: The King predicted everything. Could he predict the Shade Lord though?

Theory 6 (the secret one). The 'human' factor

Ok, so, up until now, I discussed the possibilities the Pale King had with his future vision, and how said possibilities could influence his actions and the history of Hallownest as a whole, with the Self-fulfilling prophecy theory (of which this one will be an extension of) being the most plausible one. There's just one thing though. None of those theories really accounted for the possibility that, at some point, Pale King could've just not used his powers, or, more realistically, used them but chose to do something despite the information he got.

But why? What could possibly make him do that? The literal God of Mind, not being rational? Sounds like something that Team Cherry wouldn't fail to include in the game as an emphasized plot point. A lore piece so important must've been given some significant place, perhaps even locked behind some insane platforming gauntlet...

I swear, this one moment drives me crazy.

The Pure Vessel. The Sealed sacrifice. The Empty God. The Hollow Knight was created to be the one and only savior of Hallownest, of everything the Pale King worked so hard on. It was created not as an heir to its father's throne, not as his child, but as a tool to win a war that had been going on for ages. And we all know that it failed because it gained a mind, a will to live, a desire to crave happiness.

And this moment at the end of Path of Pain tells us exactly how it happened. The Pale King, being a god whose main power is to give bugs the ability to think, shared exactly one moment of pure fatherly affection with his empty creation. And that's all that was needed to plant the seeds of a mind-conquering disaster.

And right now I want to focus on the Pale King himself here. If you watch the cutscene, you'll notice that he is the first to turn his head towards the Hollow Knight. He was the one who initiated this moment.

And one might ask: why? Didn't he know that that could lead to the Vessel having a thought that was terminal for the whole plan? Couldn't he PREDICT that him showing even an ounce of affection towards this hollowed-out child would ruin everything he built? His whole Kingdom, his whole dream, his whole civilization? WAS HE STUPID?

But hear me out. What if what we're looking at here is not the Pale King messing up his entire career as a monarch, but him actually achieving the only thing that could satisfy him? Think about it. Who knows how much time he spent in his workshop trying to harness the Void. Millions of his children were left for dead, locked inside a horrible bottomless pit as bones and shadows. Three of the Kingdom's greatest bugs agreed to sacrifice their lives for the King's plan. All so he could achieve what he considered perfection. The impossible ideal. All the struggles of this Kingdom led to the creation of that one being. And when the Pale King knew he had succeeded, there was nothing left to strive for. Finally, he could allow himself to be satisfied. To forget about the greater good. To forget the never-ending battle. To live.

To love.

And maybe at that point he refused to use his future vision. Or maybe he knew that this would ruin everything. Maybe he always knew. For that moment, none of it mattered. The god of mind finally experienced something that had nothing to do with rationality. And once that happened, nothing else mattered anymore. No cost was too great for this one moment.

And so, nothing that happened after that mattered as well. The King's radiant enemy would soon take his Kingdom. His beloved Queen would go into exile. He himself would not be able to fight the regrets of his dark past and would soon cowardly flee from the waking realm, only to be killed on his throne by the very power he so foolishly used to achieve his goal. But at that point that goal didn't matter to him anymore. He was ready for the eternal Void, because he had already achieved the only thing worth achieving.

Too bad that meant he would doom millions (if not billions) of live creatures and make the only being he could actually love experience the cruelest torture unimaginable. Too bad that, when gods attempt to achieve a higher ideal, countless souls must suffer. Too bad that because of that one achievement everything Hallownest was had to end.

But everything ends at some point. That's one of the main themes of this game, and the idea that I believe is represented by the Void. The Knight arrives to reap the sins of its creator, witness secrets sealed, bring some hope to a ruined land, and enact the end of an era. Only a silent agent of change is there to witness the dark consequences of the Wyrm's quest for happiness.

Neat theory, right? Now guess which one is my favorite!

TL;DR: The Pale King realized that the act of loving his child is worth sacrificing everything he worked for, so, even knowing that sealing the No-More-Hollow Knight would doom Hallownest, he decided that his life has already peaked anyway and that there's no point in trying to do anything anymore. He knew that he was cooked though, so he fled and died only with the closest circle of family and friends to keep him company.

----

The post is over now. Big, bigger, yet bigger, the biggest thanks to anyone who genuinely made it through to the end. My grammar is probably flawed as fuck tho, because English is not my native language, so please cut me some slack in that regard. I hope what I was saying there was at least somewhat cohesive. I also hope that the more obscure bits of information I used (like cut dream dialogue) didn't throw anyone off the thought train. It's probably gonna be a big deal when I release this post, so I probably will be coming back to it. Any discussion, as well as disagreement, is always welcome! Please just let me know I didn't write all this for nothing lol. Thanks again!

TL;DR: Skill issue.

[gepgep2]

Put another way, this means that the profitability of America's banks is based on knowingly creating rules so complicated that they know a significant portion of their customers won't to be able to follow them—and then punishing those customers for failing to do so.

And this pattern can be observed down the line. Even our higher education system now operates largely as an engine for trapping students in permanent debt, and much of the profits to be extracted from student debtors comes from penalizing them for missed payments, postponements and defaults.

Almost every institution in America—from our corporations to our schools, hospitals, and civic authorities—now seems to operate largely as an engine for extracting revenue, by imposing ever more complex sets of rules that are designed to be broken. And these rules are almost invariably enforced on a sliding scale: ever-so-gently on the rich and powerful (think of what happens to those banks when they themselves break the law), but with absolute Draconian harshness on the poorest and most vulnerable. As a result, the wealthiest Americans gain their wealth, increasingly, not from making or selling anything, but from coming up with ever-more creative ways to make us feel like criminals.

https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/david-graeber-ferguson-and-the-criminalization-of-american-life

[lavendermin]

collar of thorns | blade

blade x reader, fem reader, bodyguard au

wc | 5.1k

genre | hurt and (a tiny bit of) comfort, nsfw, minors do not interact

warnings | implied toxic family dynamics, unhealthy dependency, brief previous torture mention, panic attacks, trauma, blood and brief violence, nudity, blade uses a shower head to get you off (if there’s a term for this lmk I’m drawing a blank rn)

note | mwah thank you to the bestest @nashusglasses for beta reading this 💗 this was supposed to be at most 2k but well… here we are ^^; love blade’s quiet but gentle girldad vibe with the stellaron hunters so this is a loose interpretation of that in a bodyguard au. very self indulgent with a sprinkle of comfort and mostly exploring their dynamics of an evolving relationship

His calculated actions are a conversation—one you have learned to follow, though not without a learning curve. Even in silence there’s more he tells you with a glance alone than words ever could.

It’s experience that Blade has accumulated as your bodyguard for quite a few years. No stranger to your mannerisms and higher quality of life coming from a family with powerful connections and flaunted status.

He knows you well, in his opinion. Head held high but a frail little thing weak in the knees from utter fear and paranoia. Pitiful, he thinks. Like a field mouse braving the jaws of a beast.

Despite being the black sheep of a renowned family, you’re no less a target as a vessel of valuable knowledge— information that some would go to great lengths to gain. No cost is too great, risk and reward leading many astray. Ultimately, it pulls you closer to unraveling. Time and time again.

—

There is protest— displeasure from attendants that arrive on behalf of the main family estate. You aren’t meant to be seen like this— bedridden and flawed and vulnerable.

The instruction was to wait. Wait until you have healed and could properly make yourself presentable. To save your family face, above all else.

But it’s your house, your rules.

The attendant continues to talk your ear off about why this is egregious and why the meeting should be postponed until months later when you’ve healed. It’s what the family ordered.

They might as well have ordered you dead, too. In your current state you’re no different than a deer in an open meadow, a thousand triggers waiting to be pulled.

“No.” Your gaze is blank as you side-eye the attendant by your bedside. “I want him to see— see exactly what my father signed him up for. If he is to be my guard, then he has to be able to handle all aspects of my life. What good is he to me if the unsightly is just that and nothing more?”

The attendant opens their mouth to oppose, but is interrupted by a knock on your room’s door as another attendant exchanges a hushed message. Upon their departure a tall figure is allowed inside— dark, silent.

Heavy is the atmosphere as he stands before you with an air that you can’t quite read. Blade, his name that was briefly provided by your father’s informant days prior.

“The family extends its gratitude for your gracious courtesy to meet with me on such short notice. Things haven’t been going as smoothly as my father would like. And that man does not trust me whatsoever to keep my mouth shut if the worst should happen.” You mutter something bitterly that Blade chooses not to dwell on. Sleepless paranoia has taken quite the toll on you. The dark circles under your eyes are quite unbecoming, though he doesn’t comment on it.

It’s none of his business— not until you tell him it is. Your word now commands him from the second he stepped into the room.

Blade sits across from you in a leather chair, unreadable with a rather guarded posture. His employer’s daughter— his task— is both what he expects and doesn’t expect.

There is a fear that keeps you alive and a defeat that splits your soul. A cacophony of unrest, a cocktail for an isolated soul.

“As you can see, he’s sorely mistaken,” you snort, dry and humorless. The days worth of agony are neatly dressed in gauze and fresh bandages, well on their way to become a blur of many such incidents to come. A recent incident— torture for information, he can only assume. “Regardless, my life is in your hands now.”

Blade nods, a simple acknowledgement. How easily he accepts to be by your side until your final breath.

“More than your duty,” you continue, “you are my trusted companion. My only companion.”

___

There’s little intel Blade could gather on attempts at your life, but that matters less to him from the second he’s hired. Those attempts would not prove successful, at whatever cost. They would only diminish further the longer he was your guard.

Duty-bound and distanced, he does not bother asking further about your past, and neither do you. You know he wouldn’t answer, and you’ve tried.

As a victim of circumstance, you are hard to blame.

Casual conversation is one-sided—a condition you’ve grown accustomed to. The microscopic changes of expression he allows are often response enough for you to carry conversation. You’ve long since stopped thinking too hard about it. No use breaking your heart over minor inconveniences like a petulant, rich brat.

In fact, not once have you heard him speak in your presence. Doesn’t need to, you think.

It’s easier to think that perhaps he holds resentment or dislikes his duty of protecting you. The lack of verbal conversation is often key to that. But Blade is very good at what he does—skilled in the art of reading people with a glance. His gentle gestures despite a blank, forlorn expression speak to the heart. Your heart.

It’s easy— liking him.

“There’s a restaurant that was highly recommended to me. Word of mouth from one of the Iris Family members during last month’s meeting,” you start casually. Sleep is just freshly rubbed from your eyes that morning.

Blade doesn’t respond, as expected, his hands steadily occupied with brushing your hair. Always gentle. More patient than you who yanks at any knots that form. You prefer it when he does it, liking the feeling of little jolts of electricity down your spine at the intimate action. It calms your nerves, he’s noted.

So, he indulges you.

There’s hesitance in your fidgeting hands as you peek at him through the vanity mirror from under your lashes. It easily betrays the stern facade you try to enact. You try your luck anyway. “It looked promising and would be a nice change of pace. I would like to try it out.”

Silence. His hand stills and his gaze is rather cold as he meets your eye. The air in the room shifts, a thick tension that’s palpable. You don’t even flinch.

“Bad idea, I take it. Well, I have an errand in the area regardless— the Oak Family contacted us not long ago and I’m being issued as the initial contact for a new business discussion. It would be an ideal use of our time if we can still pick up some food to bring back afterward.”

His hands resume their brushing, burning-red gaze now a dulled crimson as he focuses on not pulling your hair. A better idea, you take it, as he seems to relent to your veiled suggestion with a quiet sigh. The only clear sign you’ve learned means you won him over.

Blade knows well that you look for little ways to get some wiggle room of normalcy. You’ve never gotten used to this caged-bird life, bound to fear what lies beyond the golden enclosure of silk and honey. Perhaps he pities your cries, like birdsong that longs for a life that doesn’t suffocate you— a life that doesn’t hinge on every day and every interaction being a gamble.

If there is even a fraction of an illusion of that for you, he will turn a blind eye and let you lie to yourself. A moment is enough to soothe your aching heart.

Later in the day you depart for the city. A distraught feeling sits in the pit of your belly. An omen brought by a spike in anxiety that you force out of mind as Blade opens the passenger door for you.

It’s a silent ride across several towns to the location indicated. There’s doubt that gnaws at the back of your mind. Something didn’t seem right with the person that contacted you with the location details for this conference between families. You’ve become much too aware that you’re viewed as an expendable pawn of the family.

But, you’re sure Robin will be there. And a familiar face is just what you need for this to be less of a drag.

Blade seems to sense your hesitance. Wordlessly, he turns on the radio. You worry too much, he seems to criticize with the action. It helps all the same.

But… your spirits seem lighter, more optimistic. A moment of normalcy as you tune out and look out the window at passing city lights and a sun slowly tucking away behind never ending buildings. You’re a person, then.

Even if only briefly.

____

They say a common phenomenon occurs that allows you to register one small, redundant detail when in a state of sudden shock. And you remember it then, clear as day.

7:59 PM.

The time on your cracked phone screen just inches away from you.

The smell of iron and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. None of it registered quick enough before Blade yanked you harshly out of the way.

And yelling. Muffled and harsh.

Your body is cold with fear, frozen stiff in place. It’s a feeling you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You struggle to get back onto your feet, cowering back toward the alley wall. It gets harder to breathe as panic sets in when your eyes spot Blade clutching his side.

The situation deteriorates further, every passing second a blur of struggle and dark figures. It feels like every emotion is going to burst out of you in a scream. It’s an out-of-body experience, as if you’re watching your own body act on its own trying to put itself between Blade and the attackers.

“Don’t,” he commands—harsher still with urgency. “Stop.”

You freeze at the foreign sound of his voice. There’s no time to process it as crimson seeps through the fresh wound on his side.

You keep hearing his muffled voice tell you to run, run away. Through the pounding in your ears of adrenaline and fear you realize that’s your voice. Hoarse and frantically yelling, pleading for him to run away— you’re hurt, don’t fight anymore.

The rest is a blur as Blade drags you out of the alley, through crowds of nightlife and shoves you into the car. There’s no way of knowing if the pursuit was hot on your tails. It’s a risk Blade could not afford in his current state.

Your mind is numb with fear during the entire process. Every jolt from the roads he speeds through shoots pain through his body— a bloody manifestation of his inadequacy. He hisses and clutches his side, forced to drive with one hand. The sound tears you from your daze for a moment but forces you to experience the present.

There’s red on your hands, your clothes. The smell of iron is putrid as you desperately try to control your breathing. Bile is at your throat and you choke back a sob, like a pitiful kicked dog. You can’t afford to freak out right now and make things worse.

It’s disjointed how your body reacts compared to your mind. You’ve been through worse. You know that. This comfortable life laying low with your bodyguard has spoiled you. He has spoiled you. Your heart is merely a soft pearl now, layers of disjointed affections received and perceived through his tenderness. The base instinct overwrites everything else— all logic, all experience.

This is not normal, it reasons. This shouldn’t be normal.

You want desperately to silence the mind.

The car comes to a slow stop after miles of non-stop driving, and you’re painfully aware of the trembling in your hands. Though you try to hide them by folding them onto your lap, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Blade’s hand, calloused and marred with drying red, is steady as it closes over your fist. It commands your attention and the lump at your throat threatens to rip a sob from you.

It’s alright now, his piercing red eyes tell you. There’s a tenderness that comes through while his thumb rubs your knuckles to ease your anxiety. He lets his head fall back onto the headrest, a bitter chuckle filling the rigid silence.

Your voice trembles, breathy as it breaks with the urge to cry. “They could have killed you.”

Blade exhales through his nose, eyes still closed as he processes your distress.

“I’m expendable. You must live.” His tone is even, detached. It lacks the usual twinge of warmth and care. It’s as if he’s reading something scripted instead— attempting to avoid overstepping.

“You’re being dishonest with me. That’s not what you want to say. I–”

Your mouth presses into a thin line, his hand squeezing yours.

“I know my father sent them.” There isn’t even hurt in your voice, but a steady bitterness begins to burn at the hearth of your soul. It was high time they deemed you more of a liability than an actual member of the family. You shake your head, and with a deep breath you steady your nerves as best as you can. “That matters less right now. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Staying the night at a hotel much too far from home is less than ideal, but you’re aware Blade won’t risk walking right into another ambush that may be waiting at your doorstep. Best not to compromise the situation further.

Despite the tremble of your lip, your hands are steady and efficient as they work to help clean his wounds. You jolt as your phone vibrates with an incoming call, apologizing as you excuse yourself to the balcony. Blade quietly finishes dressing the cleaned wound on his side. He listens intently as you speak with an Oak Family member on the phone, quickly and quietly.

“No, no. We are safe now. Please keep alert. My contact sent you all available surveillance footage of the area shortly after we departed. We can discuss this further once I look into it. On behalf of,” you pause, a strain on your voice before you compose yourself, “on behalf of the family I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you, Robin.”

Blade watches you intently from the side. There’s a facade of calm you’re trying desperately to keep up. Perhaps it’s the ‘fight or flight’ that’s still keeping you whole right now. For now, he keeps a close watch over you, every microexpression, every fidget.

There’s hesitance as his left palm rests on the bed. It doesn’t escape your detection as you close the sliding door.

“Give me your hand.” A beat and he relents, red gaze as intense as ever as he watches you kneel before him in silence. “You’re hurt here, too.”

He grunts as if inconvenienced, but lets you do as you please. Indulges you— always does.

With a patient crimson gaze, he observes you. Your heart has never felt so vulnerable than right now.

“It’s not perfect, and I’m no doctor, but…” You pause to look over your work.

Despite trembling hands and less-than-elegant bandaging, you gently bring his knuckles to your lips and press a kiss to each one. A childish gesture he didn’t see you as the type to do. That surely in your naive heart you believe a kiss will make it better— despite the blood and bruises.

And Blade— doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t stop you.

How selfishly he lets your heart devour him.

He gives a silent thanks and moves to sit away from you, making home on the couch with a wince as he adjusts to lay down. The lights are off now, save for your bedside lamp.

Even in the warmth of the lamplight, the feeling of being cold and isolated persists. Alone at the edge of the bed. You want to be selfish and order him to sleep on a proper bed— near you for your peace of mind.

Sleep, he tells you wordlessly with a glance. It’s been a long day.

You worry your lip all the same, seated at the edge of your bedside. Unmoving, tense— your mind reels, replaying the same thing over and over.

7:59 PM.

When the weapon just grazed over his heart and instead hit his side. When the smell of iron, cursed with beautiful crimson, nauseated you.

In the dark, your eyes adjust and watch as Blade’s breathing slows with sleep. It’s not normal— his breathing. The wrappings will only do so much while the pain persists. But by morning, the scar will be there, as if it had always been there. You don’t dare ask the details of why.

He’s spoiled you, surely. A comfortable life in his hands has made you soft. And you know this to be true, otherwise this attempt at your life would be nothing but another occurrence you hardly bat an eye to.

The gentleness he grants you unravels you faster.

No matter how close Blade is, you’re always alone. Even so, you choose to stay within his shadow. It’s warm— always warm.

And you crave him. Crave him in ways you should not entertain.

You don’t sleep much that night. The attempts on your life are few in recent years, but even more rare is successful bloodshed. The more dire incidents leave your nerves fried, a heavy pounding in your chest as adrenaline leaves your body tense and sleepless. Even with Blade’s watchful gaze keeping you safe, knowing he’s been injured by your carelessness only leaves you waking with a strangled gasp from guilt-ridden nightmares every hour.

The room is foreign as you try to adjust your sight to the dark bathed in a sliver of moonlight from a crack in the hotel room’s curtains.

This bed is not yours, this room is not yours. It’s not home, and this isn’t normal. The target is hot on your back— always under someone’s watchful eye. Never able to take a full breath without gasping and clawing at the anxiety closing its hands around your throat.

Your throat feels tight the more you think. In the dark, faces seem to morph into the details on the ceiling— mocking and shifting. All you can do is think in circles, worry your lips raw.

When you look over, you can just barely make out Blade’s dark figure laid on the sofa across from you. The bandages wrapped on his torso are salt in the wound as the guilt claws at your throat once more. Tears sting your eyes as the stress of it all finally reaches a breaking point.

The clock reads midnight as you tiptoe to the bathroom.

The bathwater is just short of scalding when you step in. The feeling doesn’t even phase you, a welcome sensation as the steam surrounds you. Its temperature is a welcoming hug melting your stresses away little by little as you work your fingers into your tense shoulders. A sniffle here and there, shaky breaths accompanied by the sweet melodies of tears breaking the water’s surface.

For a while, you sit idly, watching water from the leaky faucet drip. With each drop, the echoing sound clears your mind and centers you.

Deep breath, hold it. Exhale. Repeat.

The door to the bathroom clicks open, heavy footsteps trailing in.

“I already knew you were awake, but I wish you would rest,” you mutter into your knees as you shrink into yourself.

He sits at the edge of the tub. Formality is left at the door, for your sake. You have nothing to hide from him, anyway. The flesh is nothing to hide, and you’re more ashamed to let his eyes gaze upon the want in your soul. Ugly and wretched.

“You care for me,” is all Blade says in the quiet echo of the bathroom. “Don’t.”

The silence that follows seeps into the water that is no longer warm. Your body sinks lower into the tub until your nose is just above the water. Heat sears the tips of your ears.

The pounding of your heart is deafening, louder still as his presence engulfs your senses.

You feel foolish and naive and your bones are tired of being within your flesh. Bound to carry a fool like you through every mistake.

The sound of water draining doesn’t faze you. He’s decided this is less healing than you wallowing in self-pity. It won’t do you any good. Believing him is easier when you’d rather not think.

You sit up and keep your gaze glued to the surface of the water. Not unable to meet his gaze— refusing to— as his words weigh heavy on your heart.

You would rather he squeeze your heart— drink it dry of the lifeblood that keeps it pumping. Maybe this isn’t love. Or isn’t what you need.

But you will yourself to not care. Have to.

Blade taps your shoulder, urging you to stand before you catch a cold the longer you stay in the lukewarm water. He sighs quietly when you shake your head petulantly.

You finally speak— a quiet, frail thing as your voice trembles ever so slightly. “You’re wrong. It’s more.”

The water sloshes and spills over the sides as you turn your body around. Your eyes meet full, crimson moons, and your heart remains strangely steady. Uncertainty claws at your nerves until they fray like ribbons.

The draining water weighs in the forefront of your mind like an hourglass waiting for your next move. And with each second his eyes crumble your resolve, seeing through you— peering into the soul of a frail little thing like you. He waits patiently for your next gamble.

You lean up, lips pressing against his. A forlorn warmth.

Not pushed away, not stopped. Blade indulges you. Always does.

A wordless answer.

“You don’t like it, but I love you,” you mutter against his lips when you pull away. “That won’t change easily.”

“I never said I don’t like it.”

You can’t meet his eyes when your fingers silently trace the bandage wrappings around his bare torso.

“It eats me alive to see you get hurt. I know it’s your job, but… I can still be a fool in love. Can’t I?”

When you chase his lips again, your body shivers. It’s difficult to tell if that comes as a result from the harsh, cold porcelain of the empty tub or his teeth sinking into your lip.

The water is running again when Blade pushes you away, your eyes unfocused and glassy. He makes your heart ache. You have yet to decide if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

“Is it pity?” you ask quietly. “The reason you kissed back?” There’s distress and hurt in your voice as Blade falls into routine, moving you about like a doll to finish what you inevitably will not.

No response. For once, you can’t read him.

Blade works silently as he runs hot water over your body with that delicate gentleness that has your heart yearning and longing for him to be forced into what you need. You swallow the greed— the selfishness— and tear out the vitals of that ugly beast before you go mad if he leaves.

Your back is to him as he uses the shower head to get the last remaining suds out of your hair. It pulls your focus for a moment, the feeling pleasant and distracting. Methods he already knows to soothe your tumultuous mind.

The water runs and he turns you around. The bandages around his torso are damp by now, your lingering gaze focusing on them as he finishes rinsing you in silence. The myriad of scars adorning his arms and torso bring a heavy feeling to your chest. You will the vile feeling away and focus on his fingers gently lathering up your hair. Keeping you sat makes the task more difficult— you know this. But the attention makes your heart lighter all the same.

Selfish. The thought brands itself on your back like a hot iron.

The water runs and runs along your thigh with a light pressure as he abandons the shower head and tilts your face up to finally look at him. His gaze is intense— worried in the way he searches your crestfallen expression. You’re sure you look pathetic like this, disappointment on your face.

But he kisses you.

Blade leans down and kisses you. Of his own volition, now, and it's soft and warm. So warm it singes the edges of the isolation that consumes you. And for a moment, salvation is what you feel.

“You’re stubborn,” he says, his breath warm as it fans your face. “I enjoy it. That’s my answer.”

You can’t help the pout on your lips. It pulls a hum of amusement from him.

“Enjoying the demise of my heart. You’re cruel.”

Your words have no bite. A ghost of a smile graces his lips and it brings a rush of emotion to your already starving heart.

Because you don’t know it, but he craves you. Fondly but desperately.

Where your family has thrown you to the side, he will hold you close. A greed of his own he has to battle— keep focused so it won’t consume him. So he won’t devour you whole.

A shiver runs through your body as he coaxes you back into the tub, and you think for a moment he’s back to keeping you at an arm’s length again. The cold of the porcelain is harsh on your back. You retain some shame, at least, and you go to cover your chest. It’s the feeling of being a lamb before the slaughter, pristine and loved.

“Sit still,” Blade commands, voice smooth and an octave lower as his arm pushes one of your legs apart to prop on the edge of the tub.

It's a welcome initiative that makes your face warm with a sudden meekness. You’re exposed and surely getting slick by the second with arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Spread and completely bare.

Your chest rises and falls at a quickening pace and you whimper in anticipation. Blade watches you almost curiously, as if he’s never heard these pathetic little sounds from your lips. There’s little that hasn’t been shared between you two with his intimate work as your bodyguard. His presence has been by your side nearly twenty four hours a day every day for the past few years. Still, this is a new low he is taking on with you.

Indulging you. Like he always does.

This is an inevitable shift in your relationship— one that has long since strayed from a purely professional stance. It never suited you both, at least that’s what you like to think.

His gaze like blood is trained onto your expression— every shift, every change, every wince. He wants to see them all, sear them into his memory like tomorrow isn’t promised.

Your body jolts and an obscene moan you can't manage to hold back bubbles up your throat as he holds the shower head just over your slick cunt. The water runs with a constant pressure that feels odd and overwhelmingly good. But your moans are much too loud, much too desperate. With a click, the flow changes and he rips a sharp gasp out of you as he aims the water at your throbbing clit.

Your body is thrashing, squirming against the porcelain but you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. But this feeling is not him, and you want to be selfish and have him take all that remains. To have him take and take and fill and put you back together after he breaks you into irreplaceable pieces.

The squeeze of his hand on the tender flesh of your plush thigh is enough to have you panting and writhing. The feeling is isolated, the mere touch hot on your skin— scalding, even. His large hand sinks easily into the soft skin there, and you wish his touch alone would leave marks in his wake. To remind you that he’s still here, and you’ll both be alright.

The coiling feeling builds and builds, your walls clenching around nothing as your clit is assaulted by the constant stream of pressure. A whimper of frustration escapes your lips as your hips try to buck up to chase the feeling— begging for relief. He doesn’t spare you from cruelty, not when your expressions are a wonder to behold. You can’t even scream as an orgasm rips through you so suddenly, mouth agape as you twist and arch under his watchful gaze.

An expression twisted and contorted by bliss— Blade drinks up all your sounds and the sight of you undone. You squirm against his hold on your thigh as the feeling starts to toe into overstimulation. It’s too much of a good thing and you don’t know whether to beg him to stop or keep chasing the feeling of the coil tightly winding again.

The tears that adorn your lashes blur your peripheral, but you’re sure you see a wolfish grin on Blade’s expression.

Just short of coming undone again, he denies you a second completion. The stream of water slowly drips to a stop and you lay there catching your breath. Frustration sits in the pit of your belly as exhaustion finally settles on your limbs, eyelids heavy. For a moment you feel his lips on your temple— a brief, chaste gesture.

It’s silent as you get ready to sleep once more. By now it’s almost two in the morning, your tired body protesting the hour. But the air is no longer suffocating, and a lightness remains in your heart once more. The maw of the beast still looms over you but for now, the beating of two hearts quells your worries until morning.

His steps halt as you pull him along toward the bed.

“Sleep here,” you beg quietly. “It’ll be better for your wounds.”

Blade closes his eyes, forcing himself to disregard the want in your eyes. When you tug gently again he gives in, allowing you to do as you please. Just like always.

He cannot pleasure you how he wants, not tonight. You wouldn’t allow it with his wounds. All the same he relents when you urge him to sleep in a proper bed— to lay with you.

In the stillness of the dark, his hand searches for yours. You wonder for a moment if his fear of losing you rivals your own. For the sake of your heart, you’ll have to assume that much.

He fits easily into the crook of your neck and allows his lips to press tenderly where your shoulder meets your neck. The flesh dissolves under his tongue. You are left bare, a soul so desperately longing to be unsealed and seen and filled.

And he sees you. Blade fills you— with yearning and a wretched possessiveness unbecoming of you. But he fills you, nonetheless.

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Riverside -: gojo saves Megumi from drowning

After countless days and nights of staying away from home for missions, satoru gojo was finally able to relax as this time the higher ups chose nanami kento to carry out the mission instead.

He wanted to stay at home, cuddling with you, embracing your warmth which he missed for days. He wanted his arms around your small waist, pulling you closer, inhaling your intoxicating scent, kissing you till your lips undress each other into the moment, drawing covers to the rest of the world's existence.

However, as for now, he was sitting in a boat, rowing along with you as the free riders enjoyed the scenary.

You had decided to take the kids for fishing on Tsumiki's remark about some of her friends from school, flaunting about their holidays and enjoying several activities including one of them being 'fishing'.

Gojo was reluctant at first, wanting to be home with you, even proposing the idea of shoko babysitting the kids, and postponing their trip to sumida river for some other day, yet he had no choice but to agree after seeing the excitement in Tsumiki's eyes.

Megumi, on the other hand, was yawning as you and gojo rowed the boat. You were babbling some tutorials on how to fish using a fishing rod, which Tsumiki noted attentively, with eyes glistening in delight.

Megumi had no such enthusiasm in his eyes, he wanted to stay at home, do his homework, and maybe practice a bit, channeling his cursed energy. And the most important task: mentally preparing himself to socialize for school next day. you and Tsumiki pretty much dragged him along like gojo.

If the two boys in your life would have been in harmony with each other, they would have been sighing together sharing their grief, after all even if they ganged up they couldn't rebel against your decision (nor they dare to).

'so, now get hold of your fishing rods and then after attaching the bait to the hook of the rod, you slowly put this down in the water like this,' you demonstrate for the kids, as they watch you along with gojo. After all no matter how livid he might get on you, he could never stop himself from admiring you.

'make sure you don't move much and noise is a big-NO. That would scare the fishes away....' you whispered continuing your fishing session.

A smile crept on his lips at the sight of you teaching the kids, as if you have years of experience in teaching.

Ever since he was born in this world, he was associated with jujutsu. His eyes travelled to Megumi and then back to you.

After all the things he went through, he had realised that he want to change the jujutsu system through teaching, maybe in that way he would be able to save someone he couldn't.

He would graduate soon, and seeing how you teach the fushiguros, made him yearn for something he shouldn't.

What if you could also join him in his journey? What if he could teach along with you? If only you could.

The unwanted memories which flashed through gojo's eyes, were ceased by a sudden severe pull, causing you to gasp.

'MEGUMI!!'

Megumi's fishing rod was pulled by a strong fish that made him lose his balance, causing him to fall off the boat. You tried to grasp his hand to prevent him from the fall but it was too late.

Okay the fishing was a bad idea, you accept. Gojo tucks a dumbfounded Megumi into his arms as he backs his way to the boat again. Megumi looks downwards at the river, his clothes drenched, heart beating fast, as eyes travel up to his saviour, he would have drowned otherwise if gojo weren't fast enough. The thought itself made Megumi tighten it's clutches on gojo's jacket.

He was already in the river, flapping his hands, trying best not to drown. Gojo jumps into the river as the scenario strikes him, catching hold of Megumi's shirt's collar, pulling him up as he levitates in the air.

Though gojo was wearing a calm expression on his face, you could notice his uneasy discomposure, his heart must have sinked into his stomach, even your heart was about to stop at that moment. You pulled Megumi into your arms as gojo brings him back safely. Tsumiki joins you too.

'Told ya' it was a bad idea.' gojo says finally, after its quite for too long. He's back to his stupid self again.

'yeah. Sorry.' you accept as you wrap a towel around Megumi. Gojo's rowing you guys back to the shore. Tsumiki offers her brother a cup of hot tea, which Megumi sips quietly, still shook from the incident.

After you guys reach back to the river side, making your way back to the car, to go home, Megumi slowly, very slowly tucks on gojo's sleeve.

'gojo sensei......'

He looks down to the kid. 'hmm?' You and tsumiki peek at them, curious what the kid might got to say.

'thanks.'

gojo stilled for a few seconds, unsure what to do, while the grumpy kid was all red, gojo's eyes brighten up ruffling Megumi's hair, looking at you. You were already smiling at them.

Fishing might have been a bad idea. But it definitely made the journey less hectic, and Megumi a bit close to gojo.

A memory you and gojo would cherish for the rest of your life.

[nihongoseito]

a vocab list for your tuesday

nouns:

素顔（すがお） = bare face, face with no makeup

トンズラ = fleeing, escaping

復讐（ふくしゅう） = revenge

しかめっ面（つら） = frown, scowl

買い被り（かいかぶり） = overestimation

ひじ = elbow

婚約（こんやく） = engagement, betrothal (marriage)

婚約者（こんやくしゃ） = fiancé(e)

お目通り（めどおり） = audience (with a higher-up)

家柄（いえがら） = social standing of a family/lineage

火の手（ひのて） = fire, blaze

一説（いっせつ） = one theory/opinion

憶測（おくそく） = guess, supposition

貧乏舌（びんぼうじた） = unsophisticated palate

手際（てぎわ） = performance, skill, dexterity

横取り（よこどり） = snatching, usurpation

本題（ほんだい） = main question, real issue at hand

徒労（とろう） = fruitless effort, futility

勘弁（かんべん） = pardon, forgiveness

verbs:

持て余す（もてあます） = to be too much for one, find unmanageable, not know what to do with

かこつける = to use as a pretext/excuse

汚す（けがす） = to disgrace, dishonor, defile

読み聞かせる（よみきかせる） = to read aloud to another

ねだる = to beg, pester, coax

adjectives:

誇らしげ（ほこらしげ）な = proud, boastful, triumphant

不毛（ふもう）の／な = unproductive, fruitless (e.g., discussion)

ろくな = decent, respectable, proper

血気盛ん（けっきさかん）な = passionate, hot-blooded

不評（ふひょう）の = bad reputation, unpopularity

adverbs/onomatopoeiae:

自ずと（おのずと） = by itself, in due course

さぞ = certainly, no doubt

ネチネチ = insistent, nagging

expressions:

情状酌量（じょうじょうしゃくりょう） = taking the extenuating circumstances into account

歯切れ（はぎれ）が悪い（わるい） = inarticulate, not making oneself clear, evasive

口（くち）を割る（わる） = to confess, disclose, speak out

お預け（あずけ）を食らう（くらう） = to have to wait for (something anticipated), be forced to postpone

いかんせん = regrettably, unfortunately

[translatemunson]

file 001 — call sign: Hyde

chapter one of death defying acts

masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie.

It has been the longest 48 hours of your life.

You were supposed to touch down in San Diego on a Monday, but because of an airline error, your flight was postponed to late Tuesday, from an airport 2 hours away from Fallon, Nevada. When you arrived, Tuesday night, there was no time to unpack your stuff, just to find a clean uniform in the boxes, pack yourself a bag for your first day, check if your father got enough gas on your car, get your bed ready and sleep.

You were expected in the San Diego Naval Air Station North Island at the break of dawn. You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited or anxious to work in such a historical place like North Island. Your mother told you stories from when she worked there, decades ago, and your dad said the best teams were assembled there, amongst the Top Gun students. The pressure was on.

You joined the Navy in your home state, but you were transferred around during your fighter pilot training, and then again for Intelligence officer training. After completing the training, you transferred to Nevada to get a more in depth experience on Air missions with the Top Gun graduates, but that didn’t lead you to working with them during real missions.

Now being in San Diego, you knew it was your chance to impress the higher ups and finally earn some well deserved respect for your work. Intelligence Work was just as hard as flying those jets, but there was something always making your next step even harder inside those officers and mission control rooms.

The guy at the gates checked your ID. Once he cleared your entry, you drove to the Administration Office, ready to get your new credentials and get the job done. You parked your black Renegade, texted your mom — Hey, it’s gonna be a busy day. I’ll call you on Friday. —, grabbed your backpack and entered the place like you were on a mission.

It was like being on autopilot: waiting rooms, greetings, new credentials, a quick introduction to your new Intelligence team, a look at the following weeks schedule, a long meeting with Admiral Simpson — call sign Cyclone — discussing all the classified information you had to know about the team you would be working closely with. Names, call signs, previous missions and confirmed air kills. Familiar faces, new ones, a few last names you knew came from a line of ex military parents, just like you.

It was way past two when you were clear from all the first day activities. The Admiral ended the presentation just as his secretary entered the room to let him know he was needed in the meeting room.

“Don’t hesitate to stop by if you have questions, Officer. Your father spoke very highly of you and your work.” Oh, of course, he knew your father. Everybody was familiar with the teaching techniques from the one and only Warbird. “I believe Captain Mitchell is conducting flying exercises on Hangar One, if you’re interested in meeting the Dagger Squad.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” You collected all the files that were designated to you. “Will do.”

It was a good idea to just turn to the parking and go home, but you were curious to meet part of the team. Differently from other previous missions, all your analysis and suggestions would go through the captains and admirals before they made any decisions. But still, it was very important for you to understand what was at stake and which suggestions could be made right away.

You stopped by your car to throw your bag on the passenger seat and followed the path to the hangar. The waiting room was empty, but you saw a few silhouettes on the tarmac, going through the end of the day checklist. You turned the volume of the radio on, trying to gather some information about who was on the air. Besides a few directions here and there, they were useless to find out who those pilots were.

You could tell one of them was arrogant by their tone, maybe even too snarky and impatient. Based on their banter, it was clear they were doing basic maneuver training, and Maverick was the one chasing them. Some good old flight training tactics, you see. For a team that just got back from a dangerous mission — barely in one piece, but still — you were wondering why they kept those guys back for another one instead of taking advantage of Maverick’s skills and getting a new team there. Maybe even with the almost mission failure, there was potential amongst those aviators.

“You’re out, kid.” You heard Maverick on the radio, and more grumblings from the other guy.

You left the waiting room and finally walked to the tarmac. Arms crossed over your chest, you were looking forward to the following day, where you would gather details about their flight styles and their skills during missions. You had something around ten weeks to settle down and learn everything about the team before you’re deployed to a mission.

The F/A-18s landed graciously, and that constant nostalgia hit you again, leaving you wondering how would it feel to be back on a jet, what would feel to be on an official mission. Those days were far gone for you, the idea of flying just in case of traveling, and maybe a few minutes in one of your dad’s planes. But just for a moment enough to pump some adrenaline, landing on the tarmac just before your mind picked up the speed.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” You turned around and smiled at the sight of a familiar face.

“You wouldn’t be backseating if your sighting was bad, Robert.” You joked. Bob joined the Navy in the same period as you, and you trained together until the very last day you hopped on a jet. “Heard you managed the impossible.”

“Just doing my job.”

You hugged him, and finally those aviators started to pay attention to you.

“Who’s the pretty face, Bob?” A tall, tanned skin and blond aviator asked. “Your girlfriend?”

“Keep it in your pants, Bagman.” A woman came from behind one of the jets.

“Glad to see you’re still as sharp as that one training in Nevada, Phoenix.” You were happy to be back with Natasha Trace. She was one of the Navy aviators in one of the mission simulations you had back in Nevada, two years ago. It was one of the first times you stepped in as mission commander, and while other aviators weren’t happy with your orders, Phoenix was one of the few that happily followed them — and succeeded in the simulation.

“What? Did I miss any memo about a new pilot?” Bagman turned around.

“Not a pilot, Seresin.” Maverick finally showed up. “Officer, glad you could join us.”

“Captain, would you have a minute to discuss a few details about next week's mission simulation?” Time was precious for you. As soon as you could align the information you had in hand with the captain, the easier it would be to come up with plans for action.

“Definitely not a pilot.” Just like a shadow to his father, Bradley Bradshaw even carried the same mustache you saw in your dad’s pictures. You two had never crossed paths during your career in the Navy, but aviators would talk a lot over a few beers and drinks. And you were not looking forward to working with him.

“I’ll meet you in the office in 5,” he replied and went his way.

You turned around, now facing a bigger group of curious aviators. The Dagger Squadron. You knew their names and faces now, but that didn’t matter a lot.

“Ok, so who are you exactly?” Bagman, or Seresin, asked.

“People call me Hyde.” Even though your last name was embroidered in your uniform, people tended to ignore it. Your call sign from when you were flying jets carried over to the Intelligence rooms because of your reputation. “I’m part of the Navy Intelligence, and I’m gonna be training closely with you,” you looked around, “and be part of the next mission.”

You weren’t planning on being there for longer than one mission: you needed to prove yourself to your superiors in order to get assigned to missions overseas, with international teams. It was just another mission for you.

“We’ll be seeing each other soon. Have a nice evening, aviators.”

You turned around and walked back to the hall, but before you could be out of reach, you heard someone saying, “Who the hell does she think she is?”

a/n: hello everyone! first fanfic for top gun: maverick, let me know what you guys think! i believe this will be more fast paced, focused on reader and her life as an intelligence officer (i made up most of the stuff for it since it's not easy to find info about it on the internet). huge shout out to the lovely @live-love-be-unique for indulging in this universe with me! i'm taking requests for this fic, so feel free to reach out via asks or dms! see ya soon.

[ssentimentals]

pleaaase vernon and suggestive prompt 4!!! it's so him!! love ur writing, btw <3

thank you for your kind words anonie and thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

suggestive prompt: 'we have to make this quick.'

vernon is never one to rush, but goddamn you in that tight skirt is a big enough reason for him to wrap up the interview as fast as he can, all to have you for himself. the second candidate leaves the room and closes the door, vernon is on you, silencing your startled yelp with his mouth.

'wh- what? vernon, we're at work!' you gasp, scandalized as his hands try to push your skirt higher. 'what are you-'

'that stupid skirt,' vernon mutters and busies himself with hoisting up on the table, settling between your legs. 'it will haunt me, i swear.'

with ten minutes before the next candidate arrives for the interview, vernon tries to be fast but he can't push that skirt as high as he wants cause it's basically glued to your legs. he huffs in frustration, giving up on the offending material and choosing to attack your lips instead. 'we have to make this quick,' he whispers against them before capturing them in a deep kiss.

you kiss him back. it's an automatic reaction at this point, something that can't control. kissing vernon is as good as breathing, but your brain is still intact and you have enough willpower to push him off, moaning a little when he starts kissing your neck. 'we are not making anything quick,' you argue, trying to pull him away. 'we have round of interviews!'

vernon groans, angry and annoyed. he looks up at you and wonders how he's about to wait for this day to be over, when he already tasted your lips. 'do you wana-'

'we are not postponing them,' you instantly interrupt, stern. 'it's unprofessional.'

vernon quirks an eyebrow at the way you two are positioned. 'right. because you and i obviously care about that.'

you are about to tell him off, when someone knocks on the door twice, startling you both. vernon instantly steps away and helps you get back down; thank god all of the assistants learned not to open the door until vernon tells them so. 'second candidate for the interview arrived.'

when vernon looks back, you've just finished fixing your skirt and he sees a little glimpse of your bra underneath the shirt. he sighs, rubbing his temples. god, it's gonna be an awfully long day. 'let them in.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Interlude - Eddie

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude]

A/N: Friday evening from Eddie's POV.

-

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, “you actually do know King Steve?”

Eddie almost gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks from Erica to Dustin and, holy shit, the Keg Stand King himself, Steve Harrington.

“I told you he’s awesome,” Dustin says in a tone that implies Jeff’s an idiot. “Come on Steve, sit beside me. I’ll help you with the rules.”

“Hold up,” Eddie says, rounding to Harrington. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, which is hilarious to Eddie. Who knew Harrington could be startled? However, any joy he might have gotten from startling Harrington is fleeting, because Eddie doesn’t trust why he’s here. Why he would agree to sub. Harrington’s always been bad news, and Eddie doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, no matter how nice he is to look at. “Your character is?”

“Oh, uh, tiefling paladin, oath of the crown,” Harrington says, trying to catch Dustin’s eye in what Eddie thinks Steve believes is a subtle way.

Eddie shoots a glare at him. No way Harrington came up with that character. It had to have been made by Dustin, which Eddie would normally count as cheating and kick someone out for, but… Well, he’s got to admit a little intrigued. Harrington might not have made his own character, but he pronounced tiefling right and knew to say the subclass. “Right. And why’d you agree to sub?”

There is a small pause before Harrington simply says, “Dustin asked.”

He’s got to admit to some surprise here. He didn’t think Harrington could actually care about other people, but he seems genuine. Honest, almost. “Fine.” Eddie watches as Dustin steers Harrington to an empty seat. Eddie takes his own spot back on the throne. If Harrington is going to play, he’ll need to tweak the battle a little. Having another higher-level paladin in the group throws off his carefully calculated challenge rating. Easy enough to tweak. A few more minions can join the fight, and Vecna can still be deadly as he is now without changes. He’ll see if he needs to up the hit points for Vecna after the first combat encounter. If they breeze through that, Vecna’s definitely getting a boost.

Also... Well, also, Eddie’s almost a little excited that Harrington’s going to see this side of him. Yes, Harrington was witness to more than his fair share of cafeteria rants but that’s different. That’s Eddie acting out against the system because it’s rigged in favor of people like Harrington, and against people like Eddie. Here, Harrington will get to see Eddie perform.

While plotting, he does take the time to eavesdrop at bit. Specifically on Harrington.

“Hi. I’m Steve.”

“I know,” Gareth says, and he couldn’t sound more disinterested in talking to Harrington if he tried. Eddie’s a little proud of him.

“Right. And you are…?”

“Gareth.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met. Like four times,” Gareth says dismissively and Eddie grins behind his DM screen. How many times had Harrington dismissed them? He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this vindicated. And yet…

There’s a bit of a pause before Eddie hears Harrington ask, “Isn’t Lucas in this club, too?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why you’re here. To fill in for him. ‘Cause he’s in the basketball game,” Dustin answers.

“And he’s okay with missing this game?”

“Well, uh, he doesn’t exactly know he’s missing it?” Dustin says it like a question and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. There’s no way Lucas Sinclair, budding athlete that he is, doesn’t know he’s missing this game. He made his choice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harrington says.

“He asked us to get Eddie to postpone the game, but Eddie said no. Besides, Mike’s leaving the state tomorrow morning and we’d have to wait two weeks to play again otherwise,” Dustin explains, “and, uh, we haven't seen him since he asked us after the assemble to tell him that the game would not be postponed.”

Eddie finally lifts his head to watch the exchange. He can’t see Dustin’s face, as Dustin is facing Harrington, but that leaves Eddie with a perfect view of Harrington.

“That’s bullshit, Henderson,” Harrington’s raises his voice. He doesn’t have an expression on his face that would suggest anger. It’s more disappointment, but either way, Eddie’s not about to watch Harrington bully one of his sheep.

“Watch it, Harrington,” Eddie snaps, matching Harrington’s energy. “You don’t get to bully people around here.”

“That’s not- right, sorry. Just, can we postpone for like ten more minutes?” Harrington asks.

“Why the Hell would we do that?” Eddie is bewildered, he’ll admit that. Why does Harrington need ten more minutes?

“So I can go tell Lucas this game wasn’t postponed, like he thinks it is,” that bit hissed in Dustin’s direction, “and he might only be going to the basketball game because he thinks this one isn’t happening.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a bit dumbly. Has he read Lucas all wrong? Is he more nerd than jock? It’s strange that Harrington might be the authority on that matter, but he seems terribly invested in these kids. Maybe Eddie has read Harrington all wrong? Maybe he really has changed, and is just here to make a bunch of kids happy? “Fine. Ten minutes. We’re starting without you or Sinclair if it takes longer than that.”

“Thanks!” Harrington smiles at him.

Eddie’s self-aware enough to know why his insides flutter in the face of the full Harrington Charm directed at him. He scrunches his face in disgust at himself. He was, is, over the crush he’d had on Harrington. That was a blip on his radar of Unfortunate and Bad Crushes on Stupid Straight Boys. A lot of people made the list (he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him) so Harrington’s not special.

Isn’t going to be special. Eddie’s going to kill his paladin as quickly as possible and then kick him out to go watch the basketball game or something.

-

“Any moment now Steve's going to walk back through that door with Lucas. So, I hope you are prepared to have two extra players tonight. He's very persuasive. He'll get Lucas to come around. If anyone can, it's Steve. Just you wait,” Dustin is saying when Harrington steps back into the room. Not that Eddie was watching the door for him.

Harrington’s got a look on his face that isn’t pleased. Great.

“Oh no,” Erica sighs, “that’s your Disappointed Parent face.”

“I don’t have a ‘Disappointed Parent’ face,” Harrington says before turning his gaze to Eddie. “Eddie, Lucas thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why does he think that?” Eddie stands up from where he was sitting. He doesn’t like the tone in Harrington’s voice and he’s not going to stay sitting so Harrington can talk down to him, literally or figuratively.

“He thinks you don’t like him because he’s missed previous games. Thinks you don’t like him so much that he had to have Dustin and Mike ask about this game because he believes you’d have said no immediately to him,” Harrington steps further into the room, and Eddie watches as all his friends tense. Ready to jump to his defense if need be. Eddie’s tense, too, because this is the Harrington he remembers. The one who thinks his word is law, and everyone should obey. Well, Eddie’s not going just roll over. Of course the jock shows up in defense of the other jock.

“I don’t hate him, but the budding jock made his choice,” Eddie scoffs, dismissive.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Eddie. ‘You don’t get to bully people around here.’” Harrington uses a deeper tone that Eddie thinks is supposed to represent Eddie’s voice as he parrots the words back to him. “It’s only okay for you to be the bully, huh?”

Eddie gasps, offended. “Of the two of us, Harrington, I’m not the fucking bully,” Eddie moves away from the table, rounding it to go get into Harrington’s face, but Gareth reaches out and grabs his elbow, stopping Eddie in his tracks. It’s the right call, because Eddie doesn’t want to have to fist fight Harrington in front of the club, but he’ll fucking do it.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Harrington fires back. “I was a dick in high school, yeah, but I grew the fuck up. You’re bullying a fifteen-year-old because he wants to, what, play sports? Making him choose between the two? That’s fucked up.”

“Again, I didn’t fucking make him choose!” Eddie growls back. Eddie didn’t! Lucas made his choice the day he tried out for basketball. Eddie knew it. Lucas knew it. Lucas’s friends knew it. The only one in the room who doesn’t seem to get it is Harrington, who must truly believe you can have your cake and eat it too. Unsurprising, Eddie thinks, since Harrington was born with a silver spoon in his goddamn mouth that probably already had cake on it. Ice cream, too.

“You did! By not postponing the fucking game! School sports have a set schedule, and you could have looked at it before scheduling Hellfire,” Harrington says. “Lucas is allowed to like sports and nerd things. And you two,” he pivots to point between Dustin and Mike, “are being kind of shitty right now. After everything you’ve gone through together, you couldn’t stick by his side for this?”

“Hey, I have to get on a plane tomorrow morning,” Mike defends himself. “If they postponed, then I wouldn’t have gotten to play!”

“So, it’s fine that Lucas can’t play, but terrible if you can’t? That’s a load of shit, Wheeler. Lucas is supposed to be your friend.”

“He is my friend-“

“Then act like it!” Harrington says. “Will and El aren't here anymore; are you really okay with losing Lucas, too?”

“That is not fair,” Mike’s tone is almost flat as he glares at Harrington.

“Steve, you’re being defensive, right now,” Dustin speaks up, giving Harrington a pointed look.

Those words cause a shift in Harrington for some reason. Eddie watches him deflate before turning back to Eddie and saying, “If you want Lucas to believe you don’t hate him, you’d go to the game, too.”

“Lucas can draw his own conclusion about how I feel. I’m not responsible for his emotions, Harrington,” Eddie growls. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he feels a little regret. He didn’t say anything untrue but it’s not how he really feels. He’s not usually this dismissive of Hellfire member’s feelings but Harrington’s mere presence has set him into fight mode and he realizes he’s saying things he doesn’t believe just to argue. Why is he trying so hard to get into a fight right now?

“You’re right, but you’re also older than him and should take some responsibility for how you act around him,” Harrington says, and Eddie feels shame. He fucking hates it. Only Wayne’s able to evoke shame from him, and it’s bullshit that Harrington’s doing it now. “He thinks you’re being shitty to him, on purpose. He thinks you treat him differently than you do Dustin or Mike. And that’s fucked up. He’s just a kid, he looks up to you, and he's been through enough.”

Eddie doesn’t argue back. Harrington is right. Eddie knows he’s right. That shame coils in his gut, and he’s pissed that it’s Harrington making him feel that way. That it’s Harrington who is pointing out Eddie’s shortcomings.

There’s a shuffling sound and Dustin is standing, shoving his things into his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Mike. The two seem to have a silent conversation because after a moment Mike nods, and begins to gather his stuff, too.

“So, you two are out?” Eddie’s asks. He tries to keep his voice neutral, but he feels a little betrayed. Of course, Harrington shows up and ruins everything for him. He should have known he’d never stack up against Steve Harrington.

It’s childish to think because Dustin and Mike aren’t picking Harrington. He knows that. He knows they’re picking Lucas, their lifelong friend.

And yet.

It’s like Eddie is fifteen and a sophomore again, getting picked last for PE games and group projects. Not being ‘cool’ enough, which had made younger him feel not good enough.

“Harrington’s right,” Dustin says as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “Lucas does really want to be here. He sounded real upset when he asked us to talk to you about changing the day of the game. I also really want to play, it’s going to suck missing the final session, but it’s going to suck more to bail on a years-long friendship.”

“Yeah. Lucas has never bailed on us,” Mike adds, even though he sounds upset for agreeing.

Erica lets out a put-upon sigh, “he has bailed on me, but never when it mattered, I guess. I expect that you’re buying the tickets, Steve?”

“Unbelievable!” Eddie throws his hands in the air, anger in his voice, probably laced with the hurt he feels. This was always going to be the outcome. Ever since the first time Dustin brought up Harrington, Eddie knew he’d be second fiddle. He shouldn’t feel so upset by this but fuck, he does.

“A compromise?” Harrington offers. “Mike, when are you back?”

“Uhh, the plane is supposed to land Thursday afternoon; I’ll be back in town that night sometime.”

“Great,” Harrington looks to Eddie. “Can you guys play next Friday, or even Thursday night if Mike isn’t jet-lagged too much?”

“School’s locked up next week,” Dustin answers before he can. Which is fine, he was going to say the same thing anyway.

“What about your basement, Mike?” Harrington changes his attention to Mike.

“Won’t fit all of us,” Mike says. “It was barely enough room when it was just Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I. The table's not big enough.”

“Plus, it stinks like boy,” Erica wrinkles her nose, “unwashed, gross boy.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Yes, it is,” Harrington says.

“Steve, I have a compromise,” Erica says. “Regarding a promise you made to me. For life.”

Erica now has Harrington’s full attention it seems, and also Eddies, because what kind of lifelong promise has Harrington made to this child? “Yes, Erica?” Harrington asks.

“We play at your house next Friday. You will provide snacks and pizza,” she says it like it’s decided, before pointing her finger at Harrington, then dragging her hand through the air to point at everyone, “and all you nerds will stop bickering like old people. You’ll also have to buy our tickets because I didn’t bring any money. In return, I will shorten your life debt to the day after I graduate from high school.”

“Done! Deal!” Harrington accepts instantly, easily, and with a lot of relief in his voice. What the fuck did he owe Erica? Eddie’s dying to know, because he’s curious by nature. Not because anything about Harrington actually interests him. “I’ll be buying all the basketball tickets, and just tell me what pizza you want. That work for everyone?”

“Your parents will be okay with that?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, they’ll be gone by Friday for sure so no issue. So, will that work for everyone?” Harrington asks.

Eddie exchanges looks with his friends, a silent agreement to go with whatever they want. He hopes they say no, but Jeff speaks an affirmative first, so he, Gareth, and Frankie parrot that yes.

Erica stalks up to Harrington, stopping just in front of him, hand out, palm up. With a sigh, Harrington pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it into Erica’s hand. Erica says, “I’ll get back to you on the pizza I want. I’ll go buy tickets. Are you all coming?”

Gareth says, “Uh, Harrington’s not gonna buy-“

“I said are. You. Coming?” Erica repeats, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Gareth answers, then looks surprised he did. Eddie’s surprised, too, but only a little. He really likes Erica. He’s not going to be in school when her time to really join the club comes, but he’s going to make sure Gareth recruits her anyway. Somehow.

Erica gives one nod and heads out the door.

Eddie just watches for a moment as everyone gathers their things before he heaves a sigh and starts to pack up, too.

It’s not until Harrington speaks that Eddie realizes he’s alone with him in the green room, everyone else having left already. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry for coming in here and like, immediately attacking you. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Eddie looks him over before scoffing. “It’s whatever, man.”

“It’s really not,” Harrington says. “I know that, like, a lot of work goes into this game and I’m sorry. So, like, if you want anything extra, or need something for the game next week, I’ll get it. I’ll help however I can.”

Eddie pauses in the middle of his clean up, to look up at Harrington and study him. Those were the last words he expects to come out of Harrington’s mouth. An apology? Surely he’s entered the Twilight Zone. Harrington not only looks sincere, but sounds it, too.

He hates how, ever since Harrington’s arrival, Eddie feels like he’s lost control of his emotions. He’s always been on a hair trigger when Harrington and his stupid, handsome face were near. It’s the one crush he was never able to fully get over. And he hates it. He hates that he feels anything for the ex-king of Hawkins High besides contempt.

What should he say here? Thank you? Fuck off?

When Eddie finally replies, he settles for, “I don’t know if I hate you or not.”

“That’s fair,” Harrington says quietly, sincerely, and Eddie hates that, too. Hates that he can see the Harrington Dustin is always praising. If even just a little. Speaking of Dustin.

“I’ve got to know, Harrington. How’d this group of kids get to be so important to you?” Eddie goes back to gathering up the stuff on the table, needing something to do or he’s going to do something stupid. Like let Harrington have his full attention. "Why is their continued friendship important to you?"

“I used to babysit them. Try and keep them out of trouble, which is impossible because they’re too fucking curious and smart. That’s a godawful combination, you know?”

Eddie lifts one corner of his mouth upwards in a smile he tries to fight back down because, “My uncle would agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t need a babysitter anymore but-“ Harrington cuts his words off, and when Eddie glances to him, he’s wearing a thoughtful expression. Harrington finally continues with, “But they’re family now. They can be a bunch of shitheads, but I love them. And they hate it when I say this, but they should get to be kids as long as they can.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the time to process the words and he gathers up his things. Maybe he is wrong about Harrington. Maybe, he has changed. People are allowed to do that, Eddie knows, but he’s never witnessed it. Not really.

“Help me load what I’ll need for the session next week into my van and I’ll think about forgiving you for ruining this one,” Eddie says once everything is gathered.

“Yes!” Harrington agrees, a bit too eagerly and quickly. Like he couldn’t wait to be useful to Eddie in some way. Eddie shoots him a confused and concerned look before picking up the first stack of things and heading out. Between the two of them they make quick work of it all.

When they finally get to the gym, Dustin is sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them with their tickets. Eddie follows Dustin into the gym and watches with amusement as Dustin manhandles Harrington into sitting next to Mike. Dustin then sits next to Harrington, then pats the spot next to him while grinning at Eddie. Eddie looks up and sees that Gareth, Jeff, Frankie, and Erica have taken seats towards the top of the bleachers. He debates joining them but ends up dropping onto the bench next to Dustin.

“Oh, shit.” He hears Harrington say to himself.

“What, what is it?” Dustin asks.

“Brenda.”

“What?”

“Brenda!” Harrington hisses, “I, uh, I stood her up. To come to your game instead.”

Eddie swivels to look at Harrington, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in both surprise and delight as he asks, “You ditched a date to play DnD?”

Harrington and Eddie just look at each other for a moment before he watches Harrington blush with embarrassment. “Like I said. Dustin asked.”

Eddie shakes his head because he can’t believe Harrington. Steve ‘Lady’s Man’ Harrington ditched a lady because a fourteen-year-old asked him to. He turns back to the court, so he doesn’t give away how cute he thinks that is.

Wait. No. He doesn’t think anything Harrington does is cute. He doesn't!

Since he’s looking at the court, Eddie looks for Lucas and finds him just in time to see Lucas’s face light up when he sees the whole club sitting there. There’s that shame from earlier back, pooling in his gut.

Everyone stays for the whole game. They all get to see Lucas make the winning shot. Eddie finds himself cheering with the rest of the stands.

He joins everyone with swarming Lucas. He doesn’t push in and get close, the shame in his stomach keeping him at a distance, but he does make eye contact and gives two thumbs up. Lucas looks overjoyed at just that, and it’s suddenly too much inside. Too loud.

He needs to go.

He makes it halfway to his van before he hears Harrington again.

“Hey, Eddie, wait!”

Eddie does wait, turning as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Harrington. Not done turning my night upside down?”

“Nah, man. Just wanted to give you my number.”

“Your number?” Eddie says, voice a bit delirious because what the fuck. Why would Harrington want Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson to have his number?

“Yeah. So that when it’s closer to the Dungeons game you can call, let me know the time that works for you all. Maybe even drop off some of that stuff I helped you load before the game? Whatever makes it easier for you.”

“Oh,” why is he disappointed by that answer? What had he been hoping it would be? “Yeah. Sure. I don’t have a pen on me-“

“No issue. Already wrote it down,” Harrington says, pulling the paper from his pocket, offering it to Eddie.

He reaches out slowly and takes it, balling his fist around it without looking at it, eyes locked onto Harrington's face. The nearest light source is behind Harrington, so he can’t see the features of his face but that’s fine. He’s not looking for them. He stares, just looking. Harrington has not been what he thought he would be. Eddie’s not used to being wrong about things. Harrington confuses him, makes him a little crazy, and he’s got a week to unpack the why of that. Dare he say it, he might be looking forward to the game at Harrington’s house.

Eddie turns on his heel and heads off into the night without another word. If he stays any longer he might try something stupid, like asking if he and Harrington might have a shot at friendship after all.

“Okay then. Have a good night! See you next week!” Harrington shouts at his back and Eddie lets himself smile about it.

[lesbianpepsi]

would it be a sin if i stayed?

pairing: ghostface!sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find out your girlfriend is hiding something from you

words: 3.120k

warnings: mentions of murders, gf!sam, knife, scream shenanigans, stab wounds, treating wounds, fear of cheating(?), swearing, bad writing

authors note: so it's been a minute huh, excuse the rusty writing i've been in pain and in a writers block

Everyone's entitled to their own secrets; there's nobody in the world that doesn't have at least one secret. 

Some people have small secrets such as not liking a certain food but saying they like to please the other person. Others don't have such sweet secrets.

The darkest secret you have is the fact you slit your ex's tire once after she cheated on you, it's not insanely dark or even cool, it's simply just a secret that you don't want people to know about.

Yet there's people in your life that hold such darker secrets, ones that could never be revealed to anyone; not even their most loyal loved ones. 

Unbeknownst to you that person is Sam Carpenter, your girlfriend of over a year.

—————

Me (17:29pm): i'll get started on dinner soon then?

Sammy<3 (17:32pm): Yes please. Hopefully I'll be done soon with my shift and can hopefully even help you a bit with the cooking! 👩‍🍳😊

Me (17:33pm): maybe i'll postpone for a bit then

Sammy<3 (17:33pm): No, start cooking. You need to eat and Derek is a bastard who won't let me off early anyways 😂😂

Me (17:34pm): fineeeee 

Me (17:34pm): see you soon then, love you <33

Sammy<3 (17:36pm): I love you too, Y/n ❤️

Me (18:12pm): i finished making dinnerrrr:)) 

Me (18:22pm): sammmm

Me (18:29pm): sam? 

Me (18:31pm): please answer me sam, where tf are you?? ik you finish your shift at six 

Me (19:06pm): Sam this isn't funny, please answer my calls.

You bite your bottom lip nervously as you reread over the messages hoping to see that small bubble pop up any second. 

Sure traffic was a reasonable reason to why Sam's late but she'd always message you after finishing her shift at work.

Sam's one of those people who never leaves the house without her phone being higher than 80%, meaning her phone being dead wouldn't explain it. She always made sure it had more than enough battery in case Tara or you called her and there was an emergency 

So why the fuck isn't Sam answering your texts? You can't help but worry after everything that's happened to the poor woman and her family with Ghostface. 

You've already tried calling her three times to no avail. Nervously you switch over to Tara's contact as your thumb hovers over the call button, debating whether you should ask her if she's seen Sam or not.

If Tara hasn't seen her and Sam is in fact just running incredibly late then you're just going to worry the younger Carpenter for no reason.

"Fuck." You mumbled to yourself as you lowered your thumb to dial Tara, deciding it's worth the risk.

Just as you're about to press down you hear the doorknob to your front door jangle, immediately you whip your head around to see Sam entering calmly.

You drop your phone and rush over to her throwing your arms around her desperately as you cling to her. 

Sam doesn't say anything as she slowly raises her hand to your back, rubbing it up and down slowly.

"Where were you, Sam? I thought something had happened." You say worriedly as you pull away staring into your eyes intently, noticing a glimmer in her eyes that you have never seen before. 

Her eyes looked darker, almost a lustful look in them. 

She sighed as she smiled apologetically. "Some girl puked all over the place so I had to clean it up so I wasn't done till six thirty, then my phone died so I couldn't text you."

You ponder for a second on the possibility of Sam's phone actually being dead since the messages and calls went through, meaning it would be impossible for her phone to be dead.

Biting your tongue you nod as you smile at Sam, just relieved to have her here. 

"Okay, glad you're safe then. I've made a plate for you so you just need to reheat it." Sam grins as she presses a quick kiss to your cheek making your ear burn just as they did the very first time they kissed you. 

"You're the best." She says and you chuckle giving a weak smirk. "I know right, the best girlfriend."

Sam pulls away from you as well, finally giving you a proper look of her. You tilt your head confused as you notice the baggy black hoodie she's wearing, practically devouring her and hiding her arms and upper body.

"You didn't leave wearing that this morning." You comment mindlessly as you grab the end of the sleeve, rolling your fingers around the soft texture.

Sam stiffens as she roughly pulls her arm away from your grip, crossing her arms over her chest. You frown at her abruptness. 

"It was in the trunk of my car." Sam replies dismissively with a wave of her hand before turning to enter your room. 

You remain where you stand a little frown toying on your lips. What was that about? You thought as you glanced at the doorway to your bedroom, the light being flickered on by Sam.

"I'm just gonna take a shower real quick then I can eat dinner and we can watch some movies?" You hear Sam yell from your room also hearing the erratic movement from her as you walk closer.

Leaning on the doorway you see Sam placing her phone, car keys and work badge on the dresser. 

"Want me to reheat your food for you?" You suggest with a smile. Sam nodded her head as she turned to face you, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead this time as she whispered, "I love you so much." before passing you and locking herself in the bathroom. 

A few moments later you hear the loud sound of the shower water hitting the bottom of the tub before it gets muffled by Sam entering the shower.

Against your better judgement you glance back into the room where Sam's phone is kept, the desperate urge to check it gnawing at you. 

You didn't want to snoop through it, no, you just wanted to see if she was lying or not. Which you basically already knew she was. 

You glance back at the bathroom door before rushing into the room to look at Sam's phone.

Reaching the drawer you picked up her phone and to your horror the movement of you picking it up lights the screen up. 


Sam's phone wasn't dead.

She lied to you. 

Sam wouldn't cheat on you, right? No, Sam would never. She loves you too much for that. 

Right?

Shaking your head in hopes of getting rid of those thoughts you place Sam's phone back into its original position, staring at it before leaving the room to reheat Sam's plate of food.

You trust Sam with your life and more and don't believe she's cheating on you since she's already quite possessive and protective of you after Ghostface. 

After placing the plate into the microwave you move back into the living room, dropping down onto the couch with a sigh as you wrap your fingers around the TV remote, pressing the on button.

The TV started up and immediately you were introduced to the loud male voice of the news reporter. You pulled out your phone and didn't pay much attention till you heard him utter a line that made your blood run cold.

"-two male victims stabbed to death near Parker Street, the police have no lead suspects as of now but a CCTV footage has been leaked showing the brutal murder and the killer wearing the infamous Ghostface costume."

Your eyes widened as you slowly lowered your phone, pushing yourself up the couch as you straightened your posture.  

Ghostface is back? It doesn't help that Parker street, that's the street where the bar Sam works at is at. 

"Sam!" You yelled and panicked as your eyes remained focused on the screen.

You could hear the shower stopping before moments later the door the bathroom being thrown opened and Sam rushes into the living room soaking wet with a towel wrapped around her body.

"What's wrong?" Your girlfriend asked as she moved to your side, holding your face with a possessive grip as she turned it to the side to see if you were hurt. 

You shake your head making her let go and nod towards the TV, Sam takes your hint and turns to focus on the screen.

She's silent for a moment, her breathing eerily calm as her eyes meet with yours.

"Ghostface is gone, we don't have to worry." She says as her hand glides into yours. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as this is a total 180 reaction to how she reacted last time when Tara's classmate was murdered, and it wasn't even confirmed it was Ghostface at that time.

"Sam, the person was literally wearing a Ghostface outfit and two people were murdered on the same block where you work! This cannot be a coincidence." You rush out as you look down at your phone where it lay on the couch.  "We have to call Tara, Mindy and Chad. I'm not letting you all go through this again." You say as you grab your phone but you're stopped by Sam's hand wrapping around your wrist.

Looking up at her confused you see a blank expression on her face, not a panicked look you expected to see. 

"This is not our Ghostface, Y/n, calm down, please." Sam replies, moving her hand to interlock with yours with a tight grip.

Your jaw slackens as the crease between your brows gets even bigger. 

"A dude in a Ghostface outfit killed two people near where you work, Sam!" You insist on trying to make Sam notice how dire this situation is.

She shakes her head as she shuffles a bit closer, the droplets falling off of her and a few dropping onto you. 

"My Ghostface doesn't do random public killing, this is very out of character. It's probably just some psycho who's using it as a disguise, Y/n. It's fine. I'm safe, Tara's safe, the twins are safe and you're safe." You're speechless at Sam's smooth words, never hearing her so calm and confident. 

Last year she threatened to move countries instantly when it wasn't even confirmed it was about them. 

You let out a humourless chuckle as you shake your head. "And what did Mindy say when Tara was acting like you right now last year? It's a bit too close to home." 

Sam shakes her own head as she flashes a smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You trust me, don't you?" 

You let out a barely audible scoff as you nod your head at the question as if it was a stupid question to ask.

"With my life and more Sam." Sam's smile softens as she nods her head gently, as if knowing what you were going to say.

"So trust me on this, my love." She whispers, raising her wet hand to lay on your cheek lovingly. "Please." She adds in a whisper as her thumb runs up and down your cheek slowly. 

You maintain eye contact with Sam as you begin to feel yourself getting lost in her dark brown eyes, unconsciously nodding your head slowly.

Sighing you snap out of your trance as you smile weakly at her, squeezing your interlocked hands. 

"I trust you." 

—————

A few days have passed and the only person other than you who's showing concern over the murders is surprisingly Tara. The girl who was very adamant last year that this almost exact scenario wasn't related to them in any way.

You've been texting her non stop about your worries about the entire situation but you haven't said anything about your concerns about Sam. 

She lied to you, sure it was something very niche but with the timing of the murders; something just felt off. 

You have also noticed that Sam has been even more loving lately, not that she isn't always wonderful to you, but it's more than usual. 

You love the attention but you still can't help but feel that there's something wrong. 

It's a Saturday night and Sam's working the night shift again, you're not doing anything special so you decided to sleep in early. 

It's around two in the morning when you get awakened by a slam of the door, it immediately sprung you out of sleep since you've always been a light sleeper since the entire Ghostface incident. 

You rub your eyes as you slowly sit up, glancing around the room and notice Sam isn't in bed. 

Concern runs through your veins immediately as you push yourself off the bed to stand up, your feet hurting the cold floor as you move towards the door. Is it a complete dumb move to investigate the random loud noise? Yes, absolutely. But you can't help but think it's most likely Sam and maybe she's having another one of her attacks. 

"Sam?" You yell out softly as you open the door and glance around your small apartment, squinting your eyes to see better in the dark.

There's no sign of Sam but then you notice the light peeking through the bottom of the bathroom door. You definitely didn't leave the bathroom light on.

You head towards the bathroom door and go to open it but it's locked, you frown as your concern grows.

"Sam? Are you there?" You ask as you keep trying to unlock the door but to no use. 

A muffled grunt is heard through the door before you hear Sam's raspy voice. 

"Go back to bed, Y/n, I'll join you soon." Sam's muffled voice says as another low grunt is heard. That doesn't help your nerves at all.

You can feel your heart pick up a pace as you desperately keep trying to unlock the door.

"Open the door, Sam, please." You beg as you keep trying to open the door, shaking the doorknobs desperately. 

"No." Sam says sternly, making you shake your head at her stubbornness. "Sam if you don't unlock this door I swear I'll kick it down. Please open the door."

"No I-" Sam goes silent for a moment before continuing her words. "You can't see me like this, you'll leave me." 

"Sam I love you more than anything in this world, if you're hurt I want to see you and help you. Please." You say sincerely as you still your moments on trying to open the door, trying to show Sam how much you care for her. 

She doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity, your fear growing with each passing second as you swallow nervously. 

Then you hear it, the door unlocking but Sam doesn't open it for you. Immediately you throw the door open and scan your eyes to find Sam sitting on the edge of the bathtub wearing her usual grey tank top, tight black cargos and thick black boots with bruises and a singular stab wound on her arms.

Your breath hitches as your eyes widen dramatically, your fear about Ghostface attacking Sam again being confirmed. 

Sam refuses to make eye contact with you as she sloppily tries to patch herself up, wrapping a bandage around below her shoulder that's already staining with a ruby red shade.

"Let me help." You whisper as you move to stand in front of her knowing in the frenzied state Sam is in she wouldn't tend her wounds properly.

She finally looks up at you and you notice the look of pure fear in her eyes, it breaks your heart. 

Sam stiffly nods her head as she lets go of the dirty bandage and lets it fall gracefully onto the floor. 

You don't take notice of anything else around you as your entire focus is only on your bleeding girlfriend. 

As you focus on the slash below her shoulder you see that she's sterilised it and only needs help with bandaging it up.

You grab a new roll and gently hold onto her elbow for a grip as you begin to tightly wrap the bandage around her wound.

As you keep wrapping enough layers around your eye's unconsciously flicker over to the bathtub, and the moment you see the objects scattered inside you feel your heart drop.

A bloodied knife is peeking out through a thick pile of black which almost looks like a blanket but that isn't what catches your attention. The bloodied Ghostface mask thrown carelessly near what you presume is the cloak is what makes your heart come back to life and rapidly speeds up. 

Suddenly everything makes sense.

The lie about her phone being dead when it wasn't, coming home late and the very calm reaction to the murders.

Sam wasn't attacked by the Ghostface on the news; Sam is Ghostface. 

You can pull your eyes away from the hollow eyes of the Ghostface mask as you keep bandaging Sam's stab wound up, the feeling of shame making your throat tighten. 

Not ashamed of Sam but the fact you don't immediately want to run away. Call the cops or even scream. Instead you stand there as you treated her wound. 

"That's enough layers, Y/n." Sam's quiet voice breaks you out of your stare as you avert your eyes back to hers, stilling your hands as you lock with her brown eyes.

Oh those big brown eyes. 

Grief swirls around in her eyes as if she's already grieving your relationship; grieving her life. 

You take a deep breath as a shaky smile slowly forms on your lips making Sam's eyebrows scrunched together confused. 

"I'll never stop loving you." You whisper to her as you finish bandaging her wound up, dropping your hand from her elbow to place on her cheek. 

Sam leans into your touch laying her own cold hand over yours, looking up at you with a softer gleam in her eyes. 

"I'm not a bad person, I only hurt bad people I promise." Sam whispers in a gravelly voice. You feel some reassurance from that but what shocks you the most is the fact you're not sure if you wouldn't have minded if they were bad or not. 

Would it be a sin if you stayed with her? Probably. But killing is most definitely a bigger sin which only makes you think of one thing. 


You and her will still be together in the afterlife. 

"Let's go to bed, my love." You whisper as you offer Sam your free hand to take to help stand up. 

Sam stares at it for a moment before she complies and slides her hand into your hand, a small smile grazing her lips. 

Everyone has their secrets and who are you to share them with?

—————

authors note: i'd do anything for sam (i hate this so fucking much)

[sxulcxtcher]

( intercrural + mirror sex, trans bottom )

correcting a bratty popstar 💢

he’s been a prick today to say the absolute least. he gave you free vip backstage passes to one of his latest tours and has used that time to mess with you. cursory thigh touches that progressively got higher and higher before cutting himself up, pressing himself close to you so much so you could smell him, even grinding on you in one instance…

of course he knew what he was doing, it’s not like you had the power to shoo all the other vips out of the room so you could violently fuck him. so instead you waited just right before a huge show to get your revenge.

“h-hhaah-! p-pplease~!” he rather girlishly moaned out as you squeezed his thighs together, rubbing your cock between his legs. the veins of your length brushing against his oh so puffy clit… you had him pinned against a rather large mirror in his dressing room, usually used to see if his outfits were 100% completed.

you grunted and slowly slid your cock back and forth between his milky thighs, a tantalizingly slow pace that left his aching pussy wanting more. “when will you learn to be such a fucking brat…” you spat out

lifting up a hand, you gripped the poor popstar’s face and forced him to look at himself in the mirror. “if only your fans knew you were having filthy sex before your big tour…” you snickered as you quickened the thrusts.

“a-aahg… p-pput it i-iinsiide—!” he pleaded and looked down at his crotch, his eyes entranced by your fat cock slides to and fro against his needy cunt. “no can do, you have a show soon.” you declined, gently nibbling at his exposed nape.

“if i put it inside, you’d have to postpone your show for hours… can’t do that to your adoring fans, now can you?” he groaned at your response, biting his bottom lip as he squeezed his bleary eyes.

it was almost comical how wet he was, he was so pathetically turned on - his sopping pussy leaking out more juices the more you moved against it… “i think we should stop here.” you whispered behind his ear.

that instantly snapped him to reality, he whipped his head around to look at you with slightly smudged show-makeup. “n-no! i h-haven’t cum yet..!” he almost started pleading with you before you cut him off.

“you’re on stage in 5 babe, hope you do well.”

—

the second part to this is gonna be absolute filth… sorry it’s not the gloryhole pt2 3: i need to get correction popstar out of my brain first… hope this leaves you hungry for more~

i’m not a huge brat tamer but they’ve been on the mind lately…

have a wonderful day as always~ - 🎀

the way I would [REDACTED] is astronomical <3🌹

[secretobsessionstuff]

A Fantasy Drabble?

An EMETO fantasy drabble!

------

"Jonathan, come in. Have a seat."

"What can I do for you, your Highness?"

"Keene has informed me that you are feeling unwell this evening. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you, sir. It is only a small matter, though I wanted to inform you, considering our later plans."

"What troubles you?"

A blush rose to Jonathan's cheeks as he placed his palm above his navel. "Supper is not sitting well with me, your Highness. It is quite bothersome to be honest."

King Rowyn frowned. "I apologize on behalf of the kitchen staff. I shall have the chef look over his ingredients for the future, seeing as you will be supping with me for quite some time I hope."

"I hold the same hopes, your Highness." A loud gurgle emanated from Jonathan's middle. He winced from the pain and embarrassment. "However, I understand if you wish to postpone our nightly plans. I fear I would not perform to my usual standard."

Rowan chuckled deeply in his throat. The hand he had placed on Jonathan's leg rose higher towards the man's crotch. "It seems to me that you are performing just fine."

"Not even a blade to the abdomen could douse the fire I feel for you, let alone a mere stomach ache. I always look forward to our nights together, your Highness. I'm sorry we cannot have our time today."

"Says who? Did I say your condition has changed my mind about our plans?"

"Oh sir." Jonathan swallowed thickly. "I would gladly suffer through this nausea if it means we can go through with our nightly ritual. I should warn you though, I do not know how long this meal will stay down. Is that acceptable, my king?"

"Jonathan," King Rowan began as he rose from his chair. He traced his hand up the consort's stomach and chest. "I would just as soon have you bent over this desk and fuck you while you whimper and moan about your poor constitution."

"Sir--"

"You think so little of me, Jon. How could I keep my hands off your body when you come into my study, so apologetic and weak? The sweat on your brow makes me want to tear your clothes away right now."

"Then do so, your Highness. I am yours to do with as you will."

Rowan hummed lowly, his hand creeping up towards the soft skin of Jonathan's neck. "In that case, I'd have you retching over my desk with each thrust until you came with the same force."

Jonathan's eyes fluttered with anticipation. "As you wish, my king."

[royal-chandler]

inspired by TZP's appearance at the premiere of Queer 💫

grammar and i really couldn't mesh well today, i'm sorry.

--

The car slows down and the bounce of Alex’s knee speeds up in the backseat. It’s stilled when Henry’s hand folds over it, easily stealing Alex’s attention from the reel of landmarks that lead to the DGA Theater Complex. Henry’s smile is a private and small curve that crowds out everything else. 

Henry comments, “You look like you’re about to leap out of your skin, darling. We can still wait, if you’d like. There’s no pressure.”

Drifting a hand down, Alex threads his fingers through Henry’s and admires the warm and perfect fit of them. “I’m not having a record-scratch moment. And we’re not postponing or calling this off. Or, fuck even worse, appearing as friends to have the internet continually mislabel us as a bromance. It’s not nerves or cold feet, it’s anticipation.”

“An incredibly vibrant anticipation.”

“And your subdued energy, I should take that as?”

“Barely restrained excitement.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Of course,” Henry says with a mock-serious nod that he might as well have patented, "I'm going to be sharing the same space as Luca Guadagnino. As a massive fan, that thrills me to no end.”

Alex laughs out of surprise and plays along, leaning in. “Wow, he rates higher than Daniel Craig?”

“Alex, honestly. You think that I haven’t already met the most recent iteration of James Bond? Me, a son of Arthur Fox? We’re well acquainted, love. He’s been at my dinner table quite often,” Henry divulges.

“Huh.” Alex's curiosity is genuine now. Clearing his throat in an attempt to sidestep an embarrassing needy tone, his question still comes out clumsy, words tripping over gravel, “No, uh, farther than the dining room? Uh, just dinner.”

“He’s rather happy with his wife and I’ve never been...courted as a supernumerary,” Henry says thoughtfully. And then with his free hand, he’s carding Alex’s hair, pulling on an end in a way that makes Alex’s toes curl in his shoes. Showing off his cheekbones, Henry grins wide when Alex hisses between his teeth. He's generous with his touch, his fingers slipping down to Alex’s mouth and skipping over its opened seam, pausing at the pout of his bottom lip. Henry’s voice drops in volume as he adds with a sweet kiss, “Plus, he’s not my type whatsoever. Far removed from it and no one fills out a tux better than you. Even James Bond. So, there’s zero reason to be jealous.”

“What? Who’s jealous? I am not jealous.”

“I’d hope not. Soon enough, the whole world will know that I’m yours.”

To the left of his sternum, Alex's heart gallops. The same wild pick-up from weeks before when he’d first held the invite to the premiere, the title of the film brash and defiant across the top. Unapologetically Queer. Over the sloping script encouraging a plus-one, Alex had rubbed his thumb back and forth, like he could wear a patch into the parchment. He hadn’t been able to let it go until he had Henry on the phone, tears swelling and unsteady as the black and white of the invite blurred and the choice became clear.  

“And that Henry fucking Fox calls me his boyfriend. Kind of insane,” Alex remarks, remembering the Melbourne Climate Conference and literally running into the Prince of England. Getting to his feet with a two-inch advantage and still feeling like he didn’t measure up and never would, gutted by Henry’s refusal to take his hand. Later, in a hospital closet, he’d find out that Henry had been hollow that day as well, pitted by fresh grief.

“Good insane?” Henry asks.

“Always. I like the kind of crazy you drive me to,” Alex admits and sees happiness light in Henry’s forest eyes. He sees forever. Alex wants it so badly, he has to dip his gaze lower before he loses himself there completely. He loiters at the necklace that hangs from Henry’s neck, its silver pendant resting against the notch of his collarbone like an ornament. A gift from Alex that the public has been speculating the origins of since it first appeared on a beach trip Henry had taken with Bea and Pez—noteworthy for the simple fact that the Prince never wore jewelry aside from his signet ring. “I mean, let’s get started on this fucking outfit, baby.”

“Alex, enough.”

“You’re in a cardigan that’s barely holding on! What am I supposed to do with that? I’m merely a man.”

Paired with dark grey pants, the cardigan is powder blue and delicately knitted with a lace pattern, see-through over a black tank and even softer than it looks. It’s a formal contrast to Alex’s dark denim jeans and wool workwear jacket but together, the intent behind the ensembles will be undeniable—that, like any other couple, they’re meant to match.

Fondly, Alex shakes his head. “When the big headline reads ‘Prince Henry, finally saved from drowning as First Son ACD yanks him out of oversized double-breasted suits’, I’ll get my gratification. You’ll see.”

“They are not oversized,” Henry argues, a blush across his face.

Alex tells him, “If you didn’t bare your chest every once in a while, your shoulders would be your best kept secret. Forget about me.”

“Not ever,” Henry answers.

As if cued, the car rolls to a stop and a silhouette appears outside the window. They’ve got thirty seconds and, in a deliberate callback to the moment he realized saying anything less than love to Henry felt like lying and asked him out on this date, Alex wonders, “Are you ready?”

“So fucking impatient,” Henry says with a laugh and Alex is head over heels for all of him.

When the door is opened, Alex doesn’t let go of Henry’s hand. He carefully waits for Henry to climb out behind him and then places his proud smile to the skin of Henry’s cheek—what he had wanted and wished to do at the charity polo match in London and every other public appearance that followed after.

Ahead of them is a long, loud line of press and chaotic bursts of blinding lights. A shit ton of questions and a sprawling red carpet that they won’t be able to walk back.

They move forward with purpose, together every step of the way.

--

i'd like to kindly thank @caressthosecheekbones for telling me that Henry should wear Nick's iconic cardigan 💛

and @mylucayathoughts , here you go! 🤍