#free will versus determinism

[bravewolfvesperia]

🌙 Transgressor Yuri moodboard. 🌙

[estrellogy]

Astro Notes Pt. 3

I have a lot of thoughts and observations that I want to share 😭 If you have any recommendations, please let me know as well 🤍

- People often see 7th house as their ideal partner, but YOU are meant to embrace traits of that sign for growth.

For example, a Libra rising will begin to see more personal growth after learning positive traits from Aries e.g. Being more assertive, believing in themselves instead of looking for others’ approval, putting themselves first, etc.

- This might be a controversial opinion, but I don’t think minor asteroids influence your chart. Asteroids like Bride, Groom, and other very specific ones. The interpretations for them can usually be found somewhere in your main placements already. It can make you over complicate your chart and feel even more disconnected with yourself because you don’t focus on your core energy.

Not every small detail about you has to be explained by astrology. At the end of the day, you’re a person with free will and complex experiences that shape you beyond astrology. This is just a tool, not a determiner of your life.

- Pluto in 5th house 🤝 destroying/deleting your creative works when they’re not up to your standards

- The difference between Venus/Pluto hard versus soft aspects is in their expression. They all are intense, magnetic, and obsessive to some degree. However, hard aspects have a harder time owning these traits so they tend to swing between extremes (e.g. total obsession and then indifference). The soft aspects are just as intense and can have the same toxic tendencies as the hard aspects, BUT they have an easier time accepting it as a part of them and seem more ‘stable’.

- 6th house placements are so overlooked! That’s literally the house of your health and daily life. I notice that when you work with your 6th house energy effectively, other areas of your life also improve.

It’s interesting that 6th house comes right before 7th house of relationships. In order to be in a relationship with someone else, you have to take good care of yourself first!

- Aries and Mars aspects (especially hard ones) can overpower other aspects in your chart until you learn how to master that energy and channel them into something productive

- Jupiter in 12th house used to be seen as negative. But I think Jupiter here is one of the luckiest placements to have. This is the placements of coincidences happening in their favors, things lining up in crazy ways, book falling off the shelf right at the page they need to read. Their experiences feel divine.

They are very connected to the Universe, Source, Spirit Guides, or whatever you believe in! Anyone can with practice, but these things come more naturally for them.

- Shoutout to my Virgo Venus and Capricorn Mars for being the only things that stop me from going off the rails 😍

- Saturn in 11th house often feel unloved by the people around them due to earlier experiences with rejection. Saturn is trying to teach them to unconditionally accept themselves. Also, those bad experiences teach them how to read people a lot better and spot the ones with bad intentions. The reward from Saturn will be genuine, solid, and loyal friendships/connections.

I’m so glad you guys enjoy these silly notes! I have a ton of fun making them 😭

[myosotisa]

Us versus Them - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

‖  summary: You made the mistake of telling your boyfriend Eddie you were having trouble using one of your toys because it was too strong. He's determined to help.

‖  notes: smut, it's porn without plot, graphic sexual content. 'sir' kink, rope bondage, overstimulation, sex toy use, spitting, slapping (face and body), choking, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), praise, unprotected p in v, implied creampie, implied squirting, mean!Dom!Eddie (with aftercare). it's messy y'all, let me know if i missed anything.

‖  word count: 2.6k

‖  this was written for @ghost-proofbaby because i said i would use all her kinks against her and this is my attempt. so here you go, babe. thanks to @fracturedarkness, @blue-mossbird, and @abibliophobiaa for proofreading and helping me write the ending. enjoy!

“If you don’t stop pulling on the rope it’s gonna break your skin, baby. Maybe I should get you some nice padded cuffs so you can struggle all you want without hurting yourself. But we can’t do that right now so,” the only warning you receive is the meat of Eddie’s palm touching your inner thigh, lining up the shot, punctuating the next 3 words with harsh slaps, “stop fucking squirming.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry! It’s just so, so much,” your voice breaks into a croak at the end, catching on the end of the sentence as your back arches away from the toy that Eddie holds relentlessly to your clit. He tied you up what felt like hours ago and has barely given you a chance to fucking breathe since he’d gotten the Rose Toy in his hand.

He pushes up onto all fours, moving from his prime viewing angle between your quivering legs to hover over your tear stained and flushed pink face. “Poor baby,” he coos in a mocking tone, his free hand running knuckles down your sweating cheek. “Too sensitive for her new toy. I told you I was gonna help you, didn’t I? Told you I was gonna tie you up and get you used to it, didn’t I?” The relentless buzz sends your eyelids fluttering again, a whimper crawling its way out of your throat as you try to process what he’d asked you. 

The next slap hits you across the cheek, lighter than the smacks on your thighs, but still harsh enough that your eyes shoot back open and your cracked lips break apart in a gasp. Eddie’s thumb and forefinger press into your cheeks on either side, locking your jaw wide as he leans in even closer. Reeling back an inch, he spits hard into your open mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex. “I asked you a question, dumb whore.”

“You did,” you mumble out through the way he grips your jaw, struggling to swallow the thick saliva that pools in the back of your throat from yourself and him. “You told me, Eddie.”

“There we go, now was that so hard?” He asks, eyebrows raising to let you know he does expect an answer. You shake your head the best you can given his hold and he rewards you with removing his hand and the press of a button, making the vibration swap from a constant swirl to a pulsing vibration that you feel from your scalp to your toes.

“Edd-ie!” You keen, your back bowing as your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation. He’d learned that if he left it on one setting for a long enough period of time, it would start to lose potency, almost like a numbness, which made swapping the pattern that much more powerful.

“Eddie!” He parrots back to you in a high pitched tone. “Aw baby, you’re drooling all over your chin. Messy girl.”

Eyebrows pinching tight together, a broken moan echoes out into the room as your pussy clenches down hard on nothing. “Please, sir, it hurts.”

“You can’t handle it? It hurts?” His voice pitches up in a taunt, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard, tears spilling out from the corner of your eyes as you nod. “That’s a shame baby. Because I need you to squirt all over your pretty blue bed sheets before we’re done.” The idea of needing to hold back in order to achieve that has you whimpering in the back of your throat – your last 3 orgasms had torn out of you like wild animals.

“I can’t – I can’t do it, Eddie. I can’t,” you babble, the words stuck on your tongue like a skipping record as your hazy and sluggish brain tries to make sense of anything.

A ringed hand grips your throat, not cutting off air or blood flow, but with enough pressure to pin you down and make you really feel it. There’s an absolute inferno of lust in his eyes, pupils blown out in an oil fire that shows no signs of stopping any time soon.

“You can, and you will.” His command is deep gravel, sending an electric shiver down your spine. “Don't be ungrateful baby, you take what I give you, understand?”

A sob tears from your throat, tears falling freely as your thighs clamp down on Eddie’s hand and the toy it holds. But you don’t answer fast enough, Eddie’s other hand tightening on either side of your neck to stamp the blood flow to your brain. “You really have lost all your manners, haven’t you, sweetheart? Not a single brain cell in that whole noggin’.” He lets go quickly after, huffing a little laugh at how you suck in air, and then flicks your temple with his middle finger. “Just a stupid slut that can’t think of anything other than how much you want to be filled up.”

The idea of some kind of stimulation other than the Rose has you begging before you can even second guess it. “Please, please sir, want to be filled up so bad. Want your fingers or your cock or your tongue, please, just anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He asks, manic gilt in his eye as his plump lips spread in a sharp grin. “Anything at all?”

“No, no no no no, please, want you Eddie! Want you inside me, please!” You know he would comply maliciously to your request unless you scrambled your thoughts together enough to make a more specific one. Attention wavering from your own body to him as you try to ignore the pressure building in your abdomen for the who knows how many-th time.

“Sounds so pretty, baby,” his sharp grin goes soft, just a bit of teeth behind bitten red lips. “Beg for it again. Better this time.”

The vibrator switches patterns on cue.

“Please!” Comes out as a screech, a burn crawling down your vocal chords that you know you’ll be feeling tomorrow. “Please, sir, want you to fuck me so bad. Want your cock, want your cum insi-ide me. Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

A whispered “fuck,” is the first sign you get that Eddie’s resolve is crumbling. It has you gasping out, fingers twisting in the rope that still binds you to the headboard in anticipation. Whenever he got like this, wanting to bring you to tears and desperation more than anything else, it was hard to get him to change his mind. But once the first pillar cracked, betraying his carefully curated domineering persona, it was a short matter of time until all that remained was splinters.

His free hand flies to his belt, fumbling fingers trying to pull it loose. “Okay, baby, I hear you. I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want, okay?” You nod harshly, a full body shiver coasting through you as another moan hits the air. Then a sharp pinch on your inner thigh has you yelping. “I said, okay?”

“Okay, yes, yes, whatever you want,” you rush out, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to not halt the progress of getting this adventure to finally be over, “I’ll do anything.”

“Good girl,” he hits a little love tap right where he pinched, sending another shock straight to your cunt, before he goes back to yanking his belt free. It takes an awkwardly long time for him to do with one hand but you know better than to tease him for it now. You just wait as patiently as you can while he undoes his fly and shimmies his pants and boxers down just low enough for his fat cock to hit the air. Just the sight of it, skin tinted with an angry red and pearly white pre-cum pooled in the foreskin that covers the tip, has your toes curling and your thighs tensing. All you can do is watch as he wraps his long-fingered hand around the top of it, easing the skin back so he can spread the substance down his shaft, a shaky exhale leaving him as he pumps his fist a few times before tilting his hips down toward you.

Realizing he’s going to fuck you fully dressed while you lie naked on your bed has your breath catching again before you even feel the hot mushroom head of him press into you below where the Rose still buzzes relentlessly. “Fuck! Baby, you’re so wet – shit, so fucking t-tight.” He stutters out, clearly affected as he starts to feed inch after inch of his hard cock into your fluttering cunt with a hand gripping the base to stop him from finishing before he can even get all the way inside.

The feeling of him splitting you open, how your own slick pushes its way out of you in rivulets as he bullies his way inside almost threatens to undo you immediately. Your gasp comes out as a croak, your eyebrows drawing tight together in near agony as he bottoms out.

“Sh-shit. Baby, I’m not gonna last. I can-” he cuts off with a groan as you clench down on his length when the vibrations come back to the forefront of your attention. “Can feel the vibe. Feel how close you are.”

“Eddie, please,” you whimper, fingernails digging into your palms as you lose the only control of yourself that you had left when he starts to pull back. He rears back only a scarce inch or two before his hips rush back forward, lips parting soundlessly as his face contorts in feeling. You prepare for the onslaught but curse loudly when he pulls all the way out, leaving you feeling even more empty and bereft than before. Before you can openly question it, he grips your leg and folds it back, knee towards the bedside table, and wedges himself beneath your hips and the bed. He reaches over and hitches your other leg up similarly, using the elbow of the arm that is still wedged between your legs to keep it in place.

Hips tipped up, he forces himself back inside your awaiting hole without warning. Positioned like this, he rubs directly up against the spot on the front wall of your cunt that has you seeing stars and trying not to scream. “There she is,” he sighs out, a satisfied smile gracing his face when he sees your eyes roll back. His hand goes back to gripping the underside of your thigh, pressing the fold deeper as he grinds down into you. “Now we’re giving her what she wants, isn’t that right?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your pussy and that knowledge sends you spinning, barely keeping afloat as he begins to fuck into you in earnest. “Fuck, baby, never gets old,” the rough material of his jeans rubs against your ass, the metallic clatter of his belt slapping the sides of your thighs each time he bottoms out. “Like this pussy was made for me.”

“Yours,” you manage to squeak out, trying to focus on the way his cock splits you apart instead of the numbing pain of the Rose that still swirls against your overstimulated clit. “Yours, yours, yours.”

“That’s right,” a throaty laugh rumbles through him as he looks down to where the two of you are connected, “my pretty pussy that’s gonna gush all over me, just like I asked.” The vibrator swaps patterns again, the new one way past too much for you, and you can’t stop the scream that forces itself out of your dropped jaw. Eddie groans above you, feeling both the new vibration and how strongly your muscles clench around him as it reacts to the stimulation. “Can feel you, my little slut.” His fingers dig into the meat on the underside of your quivering thighs as he settles into a bruising pace. “You gonna give me what I want? Gonna soak my cock, make a mess of your pretty sheets?”

“Eddie!” Is the only response you have to offer as your eyes pinch closed, trying to focus on letting the pressure within you build beneath the pain of the overstimulation.

“Right here, baby,” he confirms, cold rings rubbing along your thigh to soothe you, “I’ve got you. Just gotta give it to me, sweetheart. Give me what I want. Make a mess.”

The wet squelch of your pussy is obscene as you squeak out an exhale each time he drives home, pressure tipping higher and higher until your fingers, toes, and lips go numb. “E- euh,” you try to get out his name, let him know you’re going to come, that you’re going to give him what he wants, but all you can do is moan out. Loud and long, voice pitching up as his satisfied grin returns again. It only takes a few more rolls of his hips against yours, the curls at the base of his cock flattened wet with your own slick, before you lose yourself entirely.

Vision whiting out, back bowing, muscles in your body clenching tight as all sensation centers around your bullied cunt and then explodes outwards in a rush of endorphins you simply cannot feel. If there was ever a moment that you would describe as ‘leaving the Earth’ it would be this one – and in the overwhelm of that rush, you abandon the ground, floating up amongst the stars until all goes dark.

Did so good for me, sweetheart.

So pretty, so perfect.

Come back to me, baby. Nice and easy.

When your eyes blink back open again, all you can see is the side of Eddie’s head, his hair tucked behind his ear. He’s looking down your body, and as you follow his gaze, the feeling returns to between your legs, where he is carefully wiping you clean with a warm, wet cloth. You're unable to stop the whimper from coming out as you instinctively twitch away from the gentle touch. His big, brown eyes shoot to yours at the movement, pulling the soft cloth away from your sensitive skin. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m almost done. Doing so good.”

Nullified by his praise, you grit your teeth and bare it as he does 2 more soft swipes across your swollen folds and then tosses the rag back toward your bathroom with a wet slap. “Okay, now some water.” A hand tucked behind your shoulder to lift just your head off the mattress, a cold glass of water presses to your dry lips. You take a few grateful gulps before pushing back against his hand to let him know you're done. Not wanting to push you to drink more, he sets the glass down on the bedside table and reaches for your hand, gripping the tender skin of your wrist between his own fingers and pressing a kiss to the marks the rope left behind. “What else do you need, anything?”

Swallowing hard to attempt to find your words for the first time, you shake your head. “Just you, Eddie. Just you.”

- - -

Sneaking back into your shared apartment a few weeks later, you’re careful not to let the plastic bag in your grip make too much noise as you run as quietly as you can to the bedroom. 

Your new purchase is a bit different than the toys you and Eddie have played with so far, but your excitement is almost beyond measure.

After all, payback is a bitch. And it’s you versus him.

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let me know if you enjoyed, thanks for reading :)

[peachdues]

COMPASS — TEASER

Bad boy!Sanemi x Reader • Gang AU

A/N: was this supposed to be limited to a “bad boy Sanemi takes your virginity” prompt? Yes. But y’all should know by now I don’t know how to control myself. And I’m going to a show tonight so I figured I’d feed y’all before I left.

Legit hyped for this one because gang member Sanemi is 🤤

Before anyone asks, yes this will end up being a multi-part fic. I don’t wanna hear a THING.

CW: Sanemi being a huge fucking flirt • this fic will be HELLA nsfw so MDNI • like super fucking explicit lmao • Reader runs a bookstore

You’re in the process of double checking delivery logs to ensure all your new inventory has arrived when a large thud against the clerk’s counter startles you.

It’s him again — all ivory hair and silvery facial scars that somehow are less imposing than the irritated sneer he wears.

“This book was shit,” he scoots the novel across the counter to you with distaste. “I want a refund.”

You level his pout with a frosty glare of your own. Wordlessly, you lean over the counter and tap a single finger against a laminated sign duck-taped to its edge.

Return-exchange only. No refunds.

“But it was shit,” he repeats, as though that will somehow spur you to change a policy you didn’t create. “You let me waste twenty bucks.”

“I did nothing,” you rustle the pages of your delivery log in pointed dismissal. “You’re the one who decided to buy a book before checking it out.”

You glance down at the discarded novel. “Figures,” you scoff. “He’s not even an author. He uses ghost writers and takes all the credit.”

“Woulda been nice if you’d told me that before you let me give him my money.”

You hum idly as you cross off the log’s boxes for new releases. “I suppose I was too stunned that you even knew how to read. Guess I wasn’t really paying attention to your shit choices.”

“Oh?” And you glance up to see Sanemi smirking at you. “The Princess has claws, does she?” He leans against the counter, propping his cheek under a loose fist. “So, what are your recommendations, gorgeous?”

“I’m not your Princess,” you snap imbuing the nickname with as much venom as you can muster. “Call me by my name or call me nothing at all.”

His eyes drop to your name-tag, pinned neatly on the front of your sweater. That insufferable smirk of his only widens. “Alright, alright. What are your recommendations, Y/N?”

The syllables sound rich and honeyed and suddenly, you wish you’d let him stick with Princess, grating as it was.

Because your name should not sound so sweet, should not roll off his tongue so seamlessly, as it just did.

You’ve never been one to indulge in rumors. But in this city, as economically fractured as it is, gossip is a currency everyone keeps in their back pocket. And though you keep your head down and mind your own business, even you have heard the rumors swirling around town about the eldest Shinazugawa child.

Rumors that he has ascended the ranks of the same Mob that claimed the life of his deadbeat father long before the bastard was shived in the back for a debt he’d owed (their words, never yours).

Rumors that he holds a unique position within the gang, known clandestinely only as the Corps, and that position requires him to do things most won’t speak about.

But the rumor that screeches to the forefront of your mind has nothing to do with his alleged status with the Corps. It’s his reputation as a flirt; a rumored womanizer, through and through, that is a splinter under your skin.

Determined to pick him out, a wicked idea blossoms. “Fine, here.” You stalk purposefully to the section marked Literature. Your finger drags down a line of titles before finally settling on one. You pull it free with a soft grunt, the book sitting thick and heavy in your hand as you dump it into Sanemi’s.

“Read that.”

His eyes flick between its cover and you, incredulous. “This ain’t a book; it’s a brick.”

“It’s a classic,” you counter. “One that examines age-old question of destiny versus free will, generational curses.” Your head cocks to the side, a challenging smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Love and lust.”

His eyebrow raises and you cross your fingers. If he falls for it and ultimately ends up hating the book, then perhaps he’ll decide your taste in reading material is indeed shit, and maybe then he’ll leave you alone.

Sanemi considers you for a moment but then he takes the bait. “If you say so,” he sighs. “But if it’s shit, I’m taking my refund.” And then he leans in close, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

His breath is hot against your ear. “Regardless of your shitty little policy.”

You refuse to let him see how much he’s knocked you off-kilter. “So I can expect to be robbed? Will it be at gun or knifepoint? Just so I’m prepared.”

His chuckle, low and dark sends goosebumps skittering down your arms. “Worse,” he promises before he draws back. His grin is wolfish, all teeth and feral hunger. “You’ll owe me a date.”

He looses a low, appreciative whistle as he steps back and rakes his eyes over your rigid form. “Though, I might just take you out anyway.”

“You assume I’ll say yes — or are you planning on kidnapping me? I’m sure you’re rather proficient at it, given your occupation.”

Something dark flashes across his face, and it’s enough to make you step back, a sudden fear creeping up the back of your spine.

Stupid, you chastise yourself. You never know when to keep your mouth shut.

But the shadows in his features recede as quickly as they appeared, and Sanemi’s mouth eases back into that same, cocky smile.

“You’ll say yes, Princess. You won’t be able to resist the temptation.”

“Temptation?” You force out a laugh. “And what makes you think I can’t?”

Sanemi’s eyes find your current read, open flipped over on the counter, marking your current page.

It’s a mystery novel. Your third of the month, born of a new hyperfixation on the genre.

You want nothing more than to wipe that smug grin of his clean from his face. He gives an affectionate shake of his head as he turns and makes his way toward the door. “Habits, Y/N. It all comes down to habits.”

You should throw it at his head, but Sanemi exits the store before your hand can find its spine.

[katabay]

sam winchester, laptoppin it up :)

I feel like it's either extremely obvious that I've watched all 15 seasons of spn (11 of them as they were airing on tv) or somehow Not Obvious, despite the fact that I semi regularly reference it in one way or another.

god. anyway. sam. I will never recover from the poetic tragedy of sam. praying while being marked down as lucifer's vessel. the constant focus on wanting to be clean, the way free will versus pre-determination is in a constant state of narrative friction just by his character existing. the scope of horror in being damned and doomed before you were even born, by your own mother. wow. character of all time.

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app

[multiplicity-positivity]

(Image ID:) a blue, green, and white graphic titled “Depersonalization versus Derealization: Exploring the differences in two dissociative symptoms” organized in two columns. The left hand column is titled “Depersonalization” with a stock icon of a head with a scribbled like for the brain. The right hand column is titled “Derealization” with a stock icon of a broken heart.

The statements in the “Depersonalization” column read: “I have trouble recognizing myself, including my reflection and aspects of my identity,” “I feel as though I don’t exist, like I’m invisible, or like someone besides me is controlling my body,” “I feel disconnected from thoughts, memories, and actions, and have a weak sense of identity,” and “I feel numb physically and emotionally when recalling my own past or painful events.”

The statements in the “Derealization” column read: “I have trouble recognizing my surroundings and environment,” “I feel as though the world around me doesn’t exist, including places and people I interact with daily,” “I feel disconnected from reality and struggle to determine what’s real and what isn’t,” and “I feel numb to the world around me, and daily life seems foggy, unreal, and fake.”

Below these columns is the word “sources:” with the following links:

https://www.nhs.uk/mental-health/conditions/dissociative-disorders/

https://www.isst-d.org/public-resources-home/fact-sheet-iv-what-are-the-dissociative-disorders/

https://www.dpmanual.com/articles/depersonalization-and-derealization-whats-the-difference/

(END ID)

This infographic was made by us, Halberd (@dreamlandsystem). Feel free to save and share as much as you’d like. Program used: Canva. Image credits: Pixabay. This infographic explores our personal experiences with DPDR, with additional sources for further reading.

[dgrailwar]

Round 10, Day 2 - Team Avenger vs. Team Gunner

There was a flare of magical energy, as a burning figure shot in through the shattered window of the industrial building.

With one smooth slash, the Avenger sent the Gunner careening out the window, the samurai spinning in the air before crashing on a rooftop. The Gunner stumbled up to his feet, before pulling out his shamisen.

"Avenger, huh? No reason to be stingy with ammo, then! Proto-Arahabaki, go!"

A barrage of gunshots erupted from the head of the instrument, the Avenger having to dodge and weave through them. A final beam, from a cannon manifesting next to the Gunner erupted in a violent blast, before the Gunner reached into his robes, pulling out a small bottle and lobbing it towards the Avenger, watching as it made contact.

Ice- a freezing agent sprayed out from it. Intense cold washed over the Count, as he waved his flaming sword, the frost instantly evaporating. He pointed the flame blade at the samurai, sneering.

"Gunner! We meet again! And this time, you have neither the cover of the forest, nor your mechanical army to assist you! Today, you face the might of the Avenger by yourself! As one man! I wish to see your resolve, gunman!"

"A lot of talk... 'one man'… don't you know who I am? Forget True Names, I'm a revolutionary! A nobleman like you stuck in the past, that thinks the whole world is his to command-- get with the times! The future is now! And the future will send you to Hell, Avenger!"

"Hahaha… Hahahaha-- KUHAHAHAHAHA!!"

"Imperial Edict. Wage war.": Boosts and demerits will be doubled for the upcoming round, as part of the Imperial Edict!

If someone wins with greater than 15%, they do double-damage!

The Count of Monte Cristo: 6 x 2 (12%)

Takasugi Shinsaku: 5 x 2 (10%)

SERVANT DETAILS:

The Count of Monte Cristo (AVENGER)

HP: 2/3

Avenger has a +3% boost to his skills as long as he's wounded!

Avenger has a permanent +2% boost against Alter-Ego thanks to his Class Trait!

Team Avenger has all 3 Command Spells remaining!

Determination of Steel (EX Rank) - If Avenger is about to take a fatal wound, if there's at least a 3% difference in their score and the victor above him, he may avoid damage. When facing a single-target (1-on-1), he will gain a +3% boost.

Monte Cristo Mythologie: The King of the Cavern (C Rank) - When battling enemies, his flames are like a poison. He reduces demerits against him by 3%, and when he is victorious against another, he inflicts a -2% demerit for their next round. This demerit increases by 2% by every 10% difference in scores.

Wisdom of Predicament (A Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost. Additionally, if Avenger earns last place, both the victor and the 2nd place Servant gain a -2% demerit, rather than simply the 2nd place Servant.

Due to observing Alter-Ego's technique, he gains a +2% bonus against her!

Class-Traits:

AVENGER-CLASS Servants are vengeful by nature. The first time they are defeated by a Servant, they gain an automatic +2% bonus against that specific Servant, without needing to study them (but can in order to increase the bonus). They gain a permanent +3% bonus per wound they attain that will remain if the wound remains, but will disappear if the wound is healed.

Takasugi Shinsaku (GUNNER)

SERVANT DETAILS:

HP: 2/3

Team Gunner only has 1 Command Spell remaining!

Unconventional Child Prodigy (A Rank) - When fighting someone with a higher boost than Gunner, gain +2%.

Innovate - Armaments Reformation (B Rank) - Defeating a Servant once will net special 'components' from them. When at least 4 of those 'components' are gathered, a secondary Noble Phantasm will be unlocked. If 6 are gathered, then the utility and power of 'Kiheitai' will be upgraded.

Current Components: N/A

(Winning first place in a Free-for-All will count for gathering 2 components- one for each Servant beneath you).

Retaining the Japanese Spirit (A Rank) - When Gunner is about to take a fatal blow and the difference between scores is less than 5%, survive with one 'health' remaining. If this is triggered, replace the effect of this skill to instead grant him a persistent +2% bonus that cannot be reduced or removed.

Due to observing Alter-Ego's technique, he gains a +2% bonus against her!

Due to studying Foreigner's technique, you have a permanent +2% bonus against him!

-

Class-Trait:

GUNNER-Class Servants are quick to action and yet methodical with their attacks. When engaged in combat, gain a +3% boost. Additionally, if in last place during a Free-for-All, inflict a -4% demerit on the 1st place Servant.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 32: Promises

Joel adjusts to life in Jackson after his brush with death. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-31 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: References to canon-typical violence. Smut :). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 9.5k

A/N: Hi y'all. If you're still looking at this fic but have skipped the last few chapters because of spoilers, this is a pretty safe chapter to jump back in at. You do need to understand that Joel was nearly killed in an encounter with an unnamed person while on patrol and that someone was looking for him in particular to have the context for this chapter. If you have any questions, feel free to DM me.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

December, 2027

“No.” 

“Baby…” 

“I said no, Joel.” 

You stalked off to another room and Joel could feel your frustration from where he sat on the couch. 

He sighed, debating whether or not to follow you or if he should stay where he was and let you cool off.

It wasn’t the first time the two of you had had this discussion over the last six weeks. 

Joel had made significant recovery since the incident in November. His leg had mostly healed, though he still walked with a slight limp. But he could breathe deeply without feeling the burning pain of broken ribs now. And the parts of him the doctors had to cut away so he would survive - part of his liver, part of his intestine, one of his kidneys - no longer constantly hurt to the point of occasional agony. Everything was tolerable now, if not necessarily what it was before. 

As a result, he was starting to go a little stir crazy. Admittedly, the doctors hadn’t cleared him for anything too strenuous - though he wondered how much of that was your doing versus theirs - but he wanted to start preparing to go back to the life he had in Jackson. One where he felt fulfilled, like he had his place in the community and a way to contribute. 

You, however, weren’t too happy with that plan. 

Joel sighed and got up from the couch, the muscle in his leg burning as he did. Things still hurt and pulled at first - and he was sure getting on a horse would be uncomfortable at best - but it would pass. Or he’d get used to it. 

Either way, he wasn’t content with continuing to sit in his house and rot. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, finding you in the kitchen. 

You closed the fridge door with too much force, making the jars of canned produce inside rattle. 

“No,” you said, adding milk to a cup of tea on the counter. “Find a place to sit, I don’t want you spilling hot tea all over yourself.” 

“I’m not a kid,” he said, a little defensive. “I know perfectly well what I’m capable of…” 

“No, you don’t,” you said, leveling him with a glare before returning the milk to the fridge and pointing to his spot at the table. “Now sit.” 

Joel squared his jaw for a moment before going for the kitchen table - trying to walk with as little a limp as he could manage even though it fucking hurt - and sitting down there. He took a deep breath as you got the mugs of tea and carried them to the table, setting one in front of him and the other in front of the seat he’d come to think of as yours. You settled in beside him, holding the mug with both hands, seemingly determined to not actually look at him. 

“We need to talk about it,” he said gently. 

“I’m not going to discuss you going out there to get yourself fucking killed, Joel,” you snapped. “I’m not doing it, I’m not going through that again. End of story.” 

Joel tried to remind himself that he wouldn’t feel any differently if he were in your position. He couldn’t blame you for it.

You’d been a mess when he woke up. It had just taken him a few minutes to really realize it. 

It was like you couldn’t get close enough to him once you were against him, clinging to him as you tried to not disturb him or put any weight on him. But once he got you settled, you fell asleep quickly. 

Joel, however, was wide awake. Part of him was afraid to go to sleep again. He didn’t want to not wake up, he wasn’t confident enough that he would. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious but it felt like he’d slept enough for a lifetime. 

So he just held onto you. He soaked up the feel of you in his arms, a sensation he thought he’d never have again. He tried to pick through the fog of his mind, remember what had happened before, but it felt so far away, nothing but a haze of blood and hurt before your voice was there. After a while, he left it alone. 

But you didn’t sleep the way you normally did. At first, you seemed stiff, like you were still conscious enough to be worried about hurting him. That didn’t last too long. Your whole body relaxed, as limp and pliant as you were when he’d just made you come again and again. But you almost never actually found rest that way. Even with Joel beside you, there was part of you that was always tense and ready to defend yourself. A byproduct, he was sure, of years of torment that could strike at any time. You only slept that way when you were at the point of total exhaustion, when your body physically couldn’t be on guard anymore. 

As much as he wanted to talk to you - ask you what happened, how you were feeling, how long he’d been like this - he wanted you to rest more. You needed it, your whole body desperate for it. So when his door opened just as the light in the room shifted to the pink and orange of dawn, his hold on you tightened ever so slightly. 

Carol, one of the doctors, didn’t even notice him watching her come in at first, nearly jumping out of her skin when she realized that his eyes were open. 

“Joel!” She yelped and you stirred ever so slightly against him. He held you tighter. 

“Shhh,” he hushed her before whispering, soft and low. “She needs her rest. Don’t think she’s had much of that lately.” 

“But…” 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “Let ‘er sleep. Can look me over in a bit.” 

She rolled her eyes but left all the same and he watched you, lost in you. You’d survived. He remembered being afraid that you wouldn’t but you had, and so had he. He trailed his fingers gently over your exposed skin, marveling at the softness of you, that you loved and trusted him enough to let your softness be this close. 

The sun was high when the door opened again, not easing open this time but flying, Ellie tearing into the room in a blur of wild hair and disheveled clothes. The door smacking into the wall made you wake with a jolt and he held you close as he felt that tension shock back into your limbs. 

“Joel!” Ellie barreled over to him and he couldn’t help but smile as she skidded to a stop at his bedside as you sat up. 

“Hey baby girl.” 

“You’re awake,” her voice was thick as she sat down near you at the edge of the bed. “Fuck, I didn’t…” 

“Are you OK?” He asked, trying to look her over. 

“I’m fine,” she waved him off. “You scared the shit out of me but I’m fine. The doc said I needed to get you to let her look you over? What the fuck, Joel?” 

“Joel!” You looked down at him, wide awake now, his head propped up on pillows. 

“You needed rest,” he shrugged. 

“You needed to be examined by a doctor!” You snapped, unfolding yourself from your place at his side. He tried to hold onto you but you leveled him with a glare. “After everything we did to get you here alive, don’t even start.” 

He tried very hard not to laugh. 

“Whatever you say, baby.” 

He seemed to frustrate you a lot after that. You talked to the doctors more than he did, never leaving his side and listening to everything they said with a hard look on your face. He tried to ask more about what happened to you - he remembered you bleeding and your face was still damaged but healing - but you changed the subject back to him immediately every time. 

Joel was ready for things to go back to normal as quickly as he could manage but you were nervous, hesitant. The first time you dared leave him at the clinic, something happened with a horse and Olivia came to get you. It was the third day he was awake and you were gone long enough that he was able to get out of bed and try to walk on his own. He didn’t make it very far, all but falling into a chair near the door after using the wall to haphazardly balance as he went. The chair smacked into the wall and Joel heard scrambling from the hall before Carol threw open the door, her eyes wide and panicky before she saw where Joel had ended up. 

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” She demanded as she helped him back to bed. 

“No,” he said, defensive. “I’m tryin’ to get myself back to normal…” 

“Joel, you’re 60 years old…” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“…And injuries take time to recover from. You’re not a young man anymore, you can’t push yourself the way you used to.” 

“I’m not a young man anymore,” he agreed as she helped lower him to the bed, his body seeming so hulking and large beside hers. “I can’t afford to waste time bein’ useless.” 

“Recovery isn’t useless,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “If you’re not going to listen to me then you need to listen to that woman of yours, Joel. Take it easy and don’t do things like get up without someone there to help if you need it.” 

Carol was nice enough to not tell you about the fact that he got out of bed and walked to the chair, at least. But she had distinctly sided with you in all matters related to his recovery after that, as had Tommy, Ellie, Maria and Savvy. 

It didn’t help that there were clearly conversations happening that no one wanted to tell him about. He heard raised voices from the front room of the clinic one day, you and Ellie going back and forth about something he couldn’t quite make out until there was the sharp boom of Tommy’s voice ending the conversation. 

“Care to tell me what that was this afternoon?” He asked as you settled into his side to sleep after Ellie and Tommy had gone home for the night. 

“Depends on how pissed off you want to be,” you replied, draping your arm gingerly over his chest and settling in with your head on his shoulder. 

“Not gonna piss me off,” he said gently. You had shrugged out of the button down of his that you’d worn that day before climbing in bed, stripped down to the tank top below and he could feel your skin so easily like this, his hand skimming over your bared arm. You pressed yourself closer. 

“Yes it is,” you said quietly, stretching and kissing his throat before settling at his side again. 

“Can’t go the rest of our lives without shit pissin’ me off, baby,” he said gently. “Don’t think I can handle you treatin’ me like glass the whole time, either.” 

“I just worry,” you said softly. “I don’t want to do this without you, can’t give you a damn heart attack because Ellie has some scheme…” 

“So it’s Ellie that’s causin’ the trouble,” he said. 

You groaned. 

“Fine,” you said. “Better not get all worked up and just let me handle it. Trust me when I say I have it, Joel, I really do…” 

“Baby.” 

You sighed again. 

“From what Tommy was conscious for and what little you remember,” you said slowly. “The people who… those people. They were after you. Specifically you. And Ellie… she hasn’t taken kindly to that.” 

“Alright…” 

“She wants to go find them,” you sighed. “She thinks she can handle it…” 

“No,” he said, already moving to get up but you held him down. 

“Joel.” 

“She’s not doin’ that…” 

“I know she’s not,” you said, still holding him in place. “I told you, Tommy and I have it handled.” 

“I don’t want her to go after them,” Joel said, letting himself relax back into the mattress and your hold on him eased. “Don’t want any of you putting yourself at risk on some damn fool mission…” 

“I know.” 

“She needs to get that shit outta her head…”

“I know, Joel.” 

He sighed. 

“This is such a fuckin’ mess. All of it.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you said quietly, nuzzling in closer to him. “All that matters is you’re alive and you’re here. We’ll figure it out.” 

You figuring it out, apparently, just meant keeping Joel under lock and key for the foreseeable future. Your jaw was set tight across the table and you fidgeted with your mug, your thumb tapping out a stuttering rhythm on the handle. 

“I need to contribute,” Joel said gently. You glared at him. “Sweetheart…” 

“You can contribute without leaving Jackson,” you said. “Your value here isn’t limited to going on fucking patrol…” 

“It’s a big part of my value, Baby, yeah,” he said. “I don’t got a lot of skills…” 

“You were a contractor before,” you snapped. “You think buildings here don’t need to be repaired? That things don’t need to be constructed? Do that, let them take you out of the patrol rotation.” 

“I’m not gonna hide,” he said, trying to get you to look at him even as you seemed bound and determined not to. “I want to get back out there, I want to do my part…” 

“Your part doesn’t include getting fucking murdered, Joel!” 

“I sure hope it doesn’t,” he reached out and took your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles. “I want to be here, with you, for a good, long time, baby. But I can’t… I can’t be something I’m not. And I’m not someone who just lets other people take on all the risk while he sits at home, on his ass…” 

“Joel.” 

“You say you love me,” he said. You actually met his eyes with that, glassy and wet at the edges. 

“Of course I love you,” you said, not as harsh now. “I love you so goddamn much, I can’t lose you, I can’t, do you understand me?” 

“I know, Baby,” he reached out, his large hand cupping your face. “And I’m not planning on going anywhere. But I can’t be the man you love by hidin’ away and waitin’ for trouble to come to someone else. I need to be the one to handle it. Me. I need to take care of my own business, need to look after you, need to take care of our girls. I can’t do that here, acting like I’m not capable of doing my part. I’m going back out there, Baby, and I’d like to do it knowin’ that you’ll still be speaking to me when I get back.” 

“You don’t get to ask me to watch you hurt yourself,” your voice was thick. “I will not watch you die, Joel. I’m not going to do it and you don’t get to ask me to.” 

“I’m not,” he said gently. “But, Sweetheart, if I am gonna go? I’d like to go out as myself. And that means going back out on patrol.” 

Your eyes searched his for a moment before you all but collapsed against his shoulder, your arms snaking up around his neck, a sob cracking through you. He put his arms around you, rocking you gently. 

Part of him had been waiting for this to happen. Beyond when he caught you off guard when he first woke up, you’d been nothing but strong and stoic. The only time there was a hint of anything else was when the two of you went to bed at night. You clung to him then, Joel swallowing any hint of hurt you accidentally caused when you held him tight. You breathed him in deep, pressed as much skin to him as you could manage. Sometimes, those deep breaths were shaky ones, like you were trying not to cry. He just held onto you, wishing you’d say something - anything - so he’d know how you were feeling. But you didn’t. So he took care of you the best way he could while you were focused on taking care of him. 

“It’s alright,” his hand spread wide over your back, keeping a slow and steady rhythm as it ran up and down your spine. Your tears were racking, choking, making your whole body shake. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, s’alright…” 

“I can’t,” you sobbed against him. “I can’t, I can’t… you can’t leave me, Joel, you can’t.” 

“M’not gonna leave you, Baby,” he said softly. “I promise you. I’ll always come home to you.” 

“You can’t know that,” you sniffed, your sobs calming to sniffles. “Seeing you like that…” 

“I know,” he said quietly. He’d seen you nearly dead enough times, he knew. He understood it. “I’m sorry, Baby, I’m so sorry…” 

“Then why are you insisting on trying to go back out there,” you sat back from him. “If you understood it, you’d stay here with me and with Ellie and Savvy, you wouldn’t do this. Not to yourself, not to me, not to them…” 

“I know,” he said again, looking in your eyes, begging you to understand. “But that girl… she took a lot from me, baby. A few organs, more time than I really want. Almost took my future with you and the girls. Not gonna let her take who I am, too. And I need to go back out there. Not gonna just hide in here, afraid, for the rest of my life.” 

Your eyes searched his, wide and wet, and then you sighed. 

“I have conditions. If you expect me to be OK with this…” 

“Of course,” he said quickly. “What are they?” 

“You go out with Tommy or me,” you said. “No one else. I don’t trust you out there with Jesse or fucking Gene…” 

“They were tryin’ to do the right thing…” 

“The right thing was saving you,” you snapped. “You go out with Tommy or with me or not at all.” 

“Alright,” he said. “You or Tommy. At least to start.” 

You glared at him for a moment but you pressed on. 

“You don’t even think about going out until you’re fully cleared by both doctors,” you said. “None of this second opinion bullshit, they’re both on board or you don’t go.” 

“I can do that,” he nodded slowly. “You’re being very reasonable, Baby, I’m impressed…” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

He laughed a little and tugged you closer to press a kiss to your temple. You melted into his chest, head nestling against his shoulder so that your nose brushed his neck. 

“I promise, I don’t have a death wish,” he said, thumb tracing a path over your arm. “I always want to come home to you. I just need to do this, too.” 

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m just… I’m so scared with you. All the time, I’m so afraid. It’s different than with Savvy, I’ve always been afraid with her. Scared I was gonna drop her or accidentally hurt her or not teach her the right thing or teach her too much. Scared I couldn’t save her. She’s my heart just walking around outside my body, I’m used to being afraid with her. But it’s different than how I feel about you and I just… I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and I don’t know how to live with being afraid of losing that.” 

He took a deep breath and held you a little tighter. 

“Know the feeling.” 

It was just a few days to Christmas and preparations were in full swing. The tree was up in the middle of town, lights lined the buildings, Julie had been hoarding supplies for some kind of holiday cocktail that she claimed was a surprise that you were highly skeptical of. You, Ellie and Savvy had picked a tree for his living room just the week before and set it up, Savvy standing back with a slight frown on her face the whole time. 

“What’s up, baby girl?” Joel asked, sitting in an arm chair as he watched you and Ellie decorate. His leg wasn’t quite up for standing that much yet. 

“It’s just…” She looked at him for a moment and perched on the arm of the chair before looking back at you. “People really did this before? Put trees in their houses?” 

“Yeah,” Joel smiled up at her. “They did. Biggest holiday of the year for a lot of the world, trees inside stores and offices and shit, too.” 

She crossed her arms, her brows knitting together as she frowned.  

“She never did this with me,” she said quietly. “I read about Christmas in a book once but it didn’t talk about this part and she didn’t talk about it much when I asked and… I don’t get it.” 

Joel nodded slowly. Savvy was still warming up to you. She seemed skeptical of your motivations, of your intentions, of everything you said. It was hard to tell how much of it was teenaged cynicism and how much was rooted in her feelings of abandonment. But since you’d all but moved into Joel’s house, she’d been around you more and more and you did your best to let her guide it. He could tell how much it was killing you, though. He knew the feeling well, remembering back to the days when Ellie wouldn’t even look at him. He could tell how badly you wanted to cling to her. He saw how much you wanted her to stay close and tell you everything in the way you hung on her every word, the way you watched the door for a full minute after she left to go back to Ellie’s. But you needed her to be OK with it more. That just didn’t make things any easier. 

“What did she tell you?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t rise over the Christmas carols you’d put on the stereo. 

“Stuff she did with her parents,” she shrugged. “That her brothers would tease her about being bad… None of this stuff.” 

“Well,” Joel said slowly. “Think she told you the important stuff.” 

She looked at him, skeptical. 

“The important stuff ain’t the decorations, it’s the people,” he said. “She couldn’t give you the other things so she told you about your family. Don’t think she was trying to hide anything from you. She shared with you what mattered.” 

She nodded slowly and looked toward the tree again until Ellie turned around and called her over to put an ornament on the tree. You bit your lip as you watched her do it, your eyes wide and soft and you hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze when she stepped back to look at her handiwork. 

Joel was steadfastly trying to focus on the holiday instead of the tension that had settled over the town since his attack. Patrols had been ramped up, sending people out in small groups instead of pairs. There were growing signs of people present in the wilderness, more xes on trees and remains of fires. Tommy had told Joel - much to your chagrin - that the prevailing theory was they were marking Jackson territory, the signs always found at the edges of where patrols ran. As though someone was watching for where they could seize power. Everyone was on tenterhooks, waiting for something worse to happen.

But the build up to Christmas seemed to have taken everyone’s minds off the looming threat. Joel was thankful for it. It seemed to have lightened your mood some, too - part of why he decided to bring up the patrol issue yet again. 

He didn’t tell you that he was set to see Carol the next day to hopefully get cleared for patrol. And… other activities. 

The cruelty of the timing of the attack hadn’t been lost on Joel. He’d just gotten you back, hadn’t even had 12 damn hours with you before he had to leave for patrol and then almost never came back. But he’d lived and, while you’d been close ever since, you weren’t close enough. 

He wanted you. 

That wasn’t quite right, he always wanted you. He was pretty sure he’d wanted you since the moment he first saw you. He was beyond that now. He needed you so bad he ached with it, his whole fucking body hurt with it sometimes. But you wouldn’t touch him without the doctors saying it was OK. Even though, at this point, he was starting to think it was medically dangerous to be so fucking wanting. 

“Are you goin’ to the stables today?” Joel asked, holding you close. You nodded against him. “You think you’ll be done in time for the movie?” 

“Definitely,” you said. “Savvy’s never seen a Christmas movie, not missing that.” 

He kissed your forehead. 

“Been meanin’ to ask you something,” he said. 

“Hm.” 

“Think you’ll be my date for the dance tomorrow night?” He asked. You pulled back from him and glared, your eyes still red. He smiled a little. “Know I left it to last minute but I’m hoping…” 

“Of course I’ll be your date,” you shoved him ever so lightly. “Who else am I gonna go with? Been cooped up here with you for the last month, all my other prospects have given up on me…” 

He laughed and kissed you. 

“Guess you’ll just have to be my girl, then.” 

“Guess so.” 

He kissed you again, deeply, firmly. But it was different than so many other kisses he’d shared with you over the past few weeks. There was heat behind it. A twinge of need and want that tasted so familiar on your tongue. You moaned and adjusted so you were closer to him, your body curving, leg hitching up over his so you could press your mound against his thigh. He gripped you tighter, pulled you closer, but you pulled back with a groan. 

“Baby,” he breathed but you shook your head. 

“Not going to risk hurting you,” you panted. 

“Not gonna hurt me…” 

“Not sure I trust your judgement,” you gave him a final, chaste, peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight, walk over with you and the girls.” 

“Have a good day,” he said. 

“I will if you take it easy,” you replied, extracting yourself gently from his grip and heading out the door. 

He watched you leave and waited for a few minutes to make sure you were gone before he got up, too. It was almost Christmas and there were things he wanted to do. 

*** 

Joel looked far too pleased with himself, his hand on your thigh as you sat beside him at the Tipsy Bison. You had one of Julie’s special cocktails - something she called the Grinch and tasted like mint - and were well on your way to being tipsy for the first time in months. 

Savvy and Ellie were sitting with some friends - Dina, Jesse, the boy from school you suspected Savvy had a crush on named Kyle - and looked to be having fun. You hoped Savvy would talk to you about it later. She’d been opening up a little bit more, never fully pulling away like she had for so long. You took what you could get, thankful that she was willing to speak to you at all. 

She’d gone with you, Joel and Ellie to the movie the night before. It was Miracle on 34th Street. She seemed to enjoy it, smiling and watching the screen in wonder, soaking it all in. It was bittersweet to see. You’d always wanted to be able to give her these things, the kinds of things you remembered loving as a girl at the holidays. But there was a certain cruelty in it, too. She’d never see a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, never visit a mall Santa. Jackson brought her closer to the life you’d led as a girl but it was still so far away and it was hard, not being able to share it with her.

But Ellie had talked her into spending Christmas Day with you and Joel. You’d damn near kissed her when she told you and you felt a little like you had as a child on Christmas Eve, the greatest gift you could have ever asked for, spending the day with Savvy, Joel and Ellie all together. 

But Joel seemed as excited as you were, a small smile tugging at his lips as you sat across from Tommy and Maria. 

“Can’t believe it’s Christmas again,” Maria said, taking a drink of his beer. “Swear, time goes by faster and faster every damn year.” 

“I’ll take time goin’ faster as long as that means it’s still goin’,” Joel replied. 

“Know that’s right,” Tommy shook his head a little, half smile on his face. “We’re all still standing and after the last year, seems like the best I can ask for.” 

“Y’all doing anything special for William this year?” You asked, turning your cocktail glass slowly in your fingers. “He’s getting big enough to know what’s going on now.” 

“Santa’s planning to make a visit,” Tommy smiled a little. “He’s been pretty good lately, figure that should be rewarded.” 

You smiled back, looking toward Savvy. She was facing the boy on the bench next to her and his fingers traced the outside of her knee and she smiled. 

The music changed, the strains of the song familiar. Hallelujah. You looked toward Joel and he smiled a little wider, the change so subtle you doubted anyone but you would notice. 

“This is hardly a Christmas song.” 

“There’s an argument to be made,” he said. “Heard it on the radio sometimes at Christmastime, it counts.” 

He took his hand off your thigh and held it out to you. An offering. 

“C’mon, baby,” his eyes were hot on you. “Call it an early Christmas present.” 

You put your hand in his and let him lead you to the dance floor. You draped your arms over his shoulders, fingers trailing through his hair as he tugged your body close to his. 

“See?” He said, tracing your nose with his. “Not so bad.” 

“Helps when you’ve got a good partner,” you smiled a little. “How’s that leg of yours doing?” 

“Good as new,” he said. “Definitely isn’t gonna keep me from dancing with you, that’s for damn sure.” 

You laughed a little before you nestled your head against his chest, sighing contentedly. 

“I’m so glad you’re still here to dance with,” you said quietly as you swayed with him. He gave you a gentle squeeze. 

“Me too,” he said softly, almost sadly. 

“I feel like I wasted so much time,” you whispered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and making your throat tight. You got like this a lot lately, this haze of what almost was hanging over you. “I should have known better and…” 

“Hey,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to look in your eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t waste anything. I gave you a lot of shit to work through, more than you ever should have had to deal with. You did what you needed to do, s’not a waste.” 

“What if I’d lost you?” You asked softly. “What if I never came over that night, what if…” 

“What if a lot of things,” he cut you off. “Doesn’t matter. We got here. That’s the important thing.” 

He pulled you back against him and you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“Gotta ask,” he said, tone lighter after a moment. “Never had any of those fancy dance classes you had. How do I hold up compared to the guys who did?” 

You laughed once, burying your face in his chest for a moment. 

“Best partner I ever had,” you said. 

He chuckled a little, his lips brushing your forehead. 

“Good.” 

You held him closer, moving with him slowly on the dance floor for a while. You weren’t sure how long. You let yourself get lost in him. The way he swayed in time to a rhythm your body was more in tune with than your mind, the way he felt so warm as he wrapped around you, the way his heart beat and the rise and fall of his chest were constant and stable. The way he was whole in your arms. It was like you could finally relax into that reality, you’d reached a point that you weren’t just scared anymore. He was here, he wasn’t going to fade away to nothing in the night. His heart would keep beating, his chest would keep rising, you wouldn’t need to find a way to do this without him. 

“Ready to go?” He asked softly after what felt like a while. “Want to get you home.” 

“Yeah,” you said, separating from him enough to look at him. “Let’s go.” 

You went and said your goodbyes to Tommy and Maria and Joel stopped by the girls’ table - scaring the shit out of Kyle by the look of it, Kyle’s eyes wide and terrified - before lacing his fingers with yours for the walk home. 

“What did you say to them?” You asked, walking close enough to him that you could feel the slight limp he had now. 

“Told ‘em to get home at a reasonable time,” he shrugged. “And no boys behind closed doors. Don’t want that Kyle kid gettin’ any ideas…” 

You snorted. 

“It looked like you threatened to castrate the boy,” you said. “I don’t want anyone taking advantage of Savvy but I don’t want everyone terrified to date her, either.” 

“Didn’t get that specific with it,” Joel said, a little defensive. “Just made it clear that someone was watchin’. And that someone was me.” 

You smiled and shook your head a little. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. “But… thank you. For taking care of my daughter.” 

He looked at you, his face serious as you came to a stop at his front walk.

“Course,” he said. “She’s an amazing kid, Bambi. You did a great job with her. And… might not deserve it but… feels like she’s mine, too. Love her like she’s mine. Hope that’s OK.” 

You looked at him for a moment, his eyes soft and warm, the lines of his face familiar landscapes. For a moment, it was as though your heart had broken open with him, cracked down to the center because the love you had for him couldn’t be held there anymore. You pulled him close to you, kissing him soft and deep. 

Or it started that way, at least. But his body against yours, the sharpness of your love in your chest, the taste of him on your tongue pushed you into desire. It didn’t take much to spark it - it had been so long since you’d had him - but once it was there, it burned hot and fast, swallowing the reminder that you should keep yourself under control quickly. 

“C’mon,” Joel said against your lips, breathless. “Let’s go inside.” 

You nodded and followed him inside, using the short walk from the street to his front door as a chance to try to get the want that was flaring inside you under control. It was too soon, it had to be too soon and you weren’t going to risk Joel’s health just because you were aching to have him as close as possible. 

Joel pulled you back against him as he he closed the door behind the two of you, tilting your head to give him better access to your mouth, his fingertips sinking into your skin as he gripped you tight. You swallowed a moan and tried to keep yourself from giving in even as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed, pulling your lips from his, his hands still holding you against him. “We… we should stop…” 

“Don’t need to,” he said, kissing you gently again. 

“Joel…” 

“Went to the doctor today,” he kissed over the line of your jaw, following the curve of your bones up to your temple where his lips lingered. “Said there’s a lot I’m allowed to do now. Including everything I want to do to you.” 

He trailed kisses down to your neck and you moaned as his lips pressed into the sensitive skin there. 

“I’ll beg if I have to,” he whispered. “But I need you, baby. Need to have you close, need to be inside of you.” 

“Fuck,” you panted, eyes closed, fighting to focus. “Are…” his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot, kissing and sucking you gently and sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. “Jesus… are you… are you sure? I don’t want you gettin’ hurt…”

“I’m sure,” he said softly, finally pulling his lips from your skin to look in your eyes again, your body cradled against his. “Bein’ apart from you has damn near killed me. Need to feel you.” 

“Need you, too,” you breathed, caving to your baser instincts. “Please, Joel.” 

He kissed you again and you could taste the desperation on his tongue, heat pooling between your hips. He guided you toward the stairs as he shrugged out of his coat and pushed yours off your shoulders and down your arms. He left both in a heap on the floor, keeping his mouth against your own until the two of you were at the base of the stairs. You only separated long enough to go up them, Joel pulling you back against him on the second story landing. 

You let him guide you, tried to focus on being gentle with him instead of pulling him to you and pressing him against you the way you wanted. 

But you could only resist so long. You tugged at his shirt, pulling at the buttons until you could shove it down his arms and toss it to the floor, too. He did the same with yours, discarding it in the hall before pulling you into his bedroom, nudging the door closed with his foot. It wasn’t long before you were both naked next to his bed, bodies pressed close and tight, his cock thick and hard and weeping against your stomach.

You took control then, turning him in your arms so that he was against the bed. He lowered himself back onto it slowly, his grip on you gentle but secure so you were on his lap, straddling him as you kissed him. 

“Really fucking missed you,” he whispered, kissing down your jaw to your neck to your chest. He rocked his hips up against you, his thick shaft nestled against your clit, the motion making you moan. “Goddamn, missed you so much.” 

His hands slipped over your skin to your breasts, cupping and cradling them before lavishing his hot, wet mouth over the soft swell of flesh there. He sucked a nipple into his mouth with a needy groan and you couldn’t help but roll your hips against him as he did, your tight, hot center clenching and gripping at nothing, desperate for something to pull deep inside. Joel’s tongue teased the firm nub between his lips, licking and sucking you, making you moan and rock yourself against him on his lap before moving to the other breast, giving you the same treatment there. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls. He pulled his mouth from your chest to look in your eyes, his gaze soft and hot like starlight. 

“Think you can come like this for me?” He asked softly. “Want you to come for me, want you to be so wet and soft inside for me, think you can do that?” 

You just nodded and his hands slid around to your back as he buried his face in your throat before going back to your breasts as he rutted his thick, dripping length up against your clit, the silken firmness of him pressing close and tight against your wet heat. You ground your hips down against him, desperate for more, to be as close as you could be to him, his body determinedly angled to keep you from working him into you. There was a tightening ache in you, the burn of need for something that was just out of reach making your head spin and pleasure spool.

“Just gotta come for me,” his voice was hot and needy. “Just come for me, all you gotta do. Just come, just come, please baby, just come, want to feel you come like this, you can give me that, know you can…” 

His desperate words were what you needed, the tension in you rising until you felt like you were going to break with wanting before your orgasm hit you hard, a wave of pleasure rolling over you. It was sharp, you hadn’t come in weeks, and you could feel all of it. How your clit throbbed against his cock, how your entranced pulsed and grasped at the root of him, how it seemed like your entire being was trying to pull him into yourself. 

“Oh fuck,” he held you tight to him, his cock pressed tight against you, so firm that you could feel him against your pubic bone. “Fuck, just like that. Gonna feel so good inside you baby, gonna be so goddamn good, just get all that come all over me, feel so good drippin’ all over me.” 

You dropped your head to his shoulder, body going limp for a moment as your orgasm finished. Joel cradled you to him before going to adjust you on the bed but you stopped him, sitting up again and pressing back on his shoulders. 

“Baby,” he groaned but you took his face in your hands and tilted his head so you could kiss him, really kiss him, the kind of kiss that was more hungry and consuming and claiming than anything else. 

“Let me,” you whispered when you pulled your lips from his just enough to speak. He let you adjust him then, until he was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, your folded legs bracketing his thighs. You stroked his cock - wet with your come and leaking his own arousal - before rising onto your knees to notch his thick head at your entrance. Joel’s hands went to your thighs, his thumb tracing the scar there, the one from the knife you’d taken to the leg when trying to save him. His eyes were trained on it, his fingertips digging into your flesh more sharply there than your other leg. His eyes traced up your body to the scar at your stomach, just as harsh and red and raw as the one at your leg. 

“Not tonight,” you said quietly. His eyes found yours. “It’s not about that tonight.” 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, his callused hands slid up your thighs to your hips and you eased down onto his hard length. You moaned as you took him into yourself, his thick cock sinking into your soft heat. He felt so good inside of you, your body remembering just how to make him a part of you. It had been weeks but it didn’t matter, he was built into you now, he fit into you the way no one else ever could, filling and stretching you totally. His breaths stuttered as more and more of him entered you, his fingertips clutching onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass harder and harder with every inch of him that worked its way into you. Just as the ridge of his head ghosted against the back wall of your channel, your hips met his and you let yourself adjust for a moment, savoring the feel of him inside you that way. 

Joel was panting for breath below you, his eyes tracing over your body again and again as your channel gripped him. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he looked in your eyes as he said it. “Most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You just moaned a little, your hands coming to rest on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers splaying wide over his skin. But you didn’t move otherwise. He felt too good like this, so deep inside you. You almost didn’t want to move, didn’t care if you didn’t make yourself come with him in you. He was deep inside and he was secure there. You could feel how whole and alive he was, the way his cock throbbed, the pulse of him, the comforting heat. Like this, he was yours. Unquestionably, undoubtedly yours and no one could take him away from you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his fingers tightened on you. “I… fuck… I need you to move, baby… I can’t keep goin’ like this, I need… I need you to move, need to feel you, please baby, please.” 

You didn’t respond. You just started to rise on his cock, moving your hips slow and shaky over him, making him groan. When just his head was left barely inside your entrance, you thrust back down, his cock splitting you open again, his head falling back, mouth open in a desperate gasp. 

You rode him like that for a while, you weren’t sure how long. The slow and aching lift, the devastating reclaiming as you took him again and again almost meditative. You watched each other, lost in the feeling of your bodies together, working in tandem to become something more than just yourselves. 

Eventually, Joel tugged you closer, tilting you down until he could reach your face, his large palm curving over your jaw, his thumb pressing into your cheek. 

“C’mere,” he whispered in the dim light of the moon on the snow outside his window. “Want to feel more of you.” 

You folded yourself into him, your bodies aligned, his cock still buried deep but your chest now against his, your lips overing over his own, noses against each other. Even in the night, you could see the different shades of brown in his iris like this, all of them soft and full of love for you. 

His hand slid to the small of your back, tilting your hips just so and holding you there as he started thrusting up into you and making you whimper. 

“Let me,” he said softly. 

You just nodded, letting him gently work himself into you again and again. The strokes were aching and smooth, almost rocking as he moved inside of you. The deep, full press of his thick cock into all the soft parts of you that existed because of him, the brief moment of feeling so full and whole before the tender rhythm he set within you pulled him back again. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, so desperate. You weren’t sure you could even say anything else, every other word you’d ever learned reduced down to the only one that mattered in that moment. 

“Together,” he said quietly, never breaking his rhythm. “OK baby? Together.” 

You just nodded quickly. Your body was getting tighter and tighter and you kept your eyes on his, breathing the same air, feeling the press of his warm, soft skin into yours as your orgasm built alongside his. 

“You’re close,” he said. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t need to answer. He could feel you and you could feel him, too. “I’m gonna come, want you to come with me. Going to fill you up so deep, baby, going to feel me so deep and I need to feel you, too.” 

His hand that was on your back pressed into you firmer, taking root at the base of your spine and pushing your hips lower so his cock was deeper longer, his hips pressed against your clit with more heat and tension and, for a moment, it felt as though your entire body was on fire with need before the band of pleasure that had been winding tight inside you snapped. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, rushing out from your core and flooding through the rest of your being just as Joel pressed your hips down and flush with his, holding himself deep as he came with a strangled moan. Your channel fluttered around him, rippling and pulling him into you as he pulsed deep inside. You could feel him so clearly against and inside you, every inch of his skin, every throb of his cock, every gasping breath. You kissed him then, bodies connected in every way, until your orgasms eased and you went limp on top of him. Your head nuzzled against the side of his neck and you breathed in the scent of his skin as you came back down to earth, his arms keeping you flush against him as his cock softened inside of you, the combination of his come and yours already dripping out of you. 

“Never goin’ that long without you again,” he said softly, his fingers tracing slow and easy abstract patterns over your skin. You hummed in agreement. “I’m gettin’ to be too old to be so deprived.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Should start being more careful then,” you said, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. 

“Well now that I have the proper motivation…” 

You laughed again and closed your eyes. He held you like that for a while, until goosebumps from the winter air started prickling over your skin. He took you more firmly then, slipping his soft cock from the safe, soft warmth of you and slipping you down beside him on the bed. He pulled a blanket over the two of you and you sighed contentedly. He tugged you closer and you happily obliged, your legs tanging with his as he brushed your hair back before holding your face gently in his large hand. You just smiled a little, eyes on his. He smiled back, just enough that his cheek dimpled. 

“You’re still feeling OK?” You asked quietly after a few minutes. 

He laughed lightly. 

“Whole lot better than OK,” he replied. “I’m amazing. Always amazing when I’m with you.” 

You smiled a little wider. 

“You know,” he said slowly. “I had a lot of time to think when I thought I was about to die.” 

Your smile shifted to a frown but his didn’t, not really. His gaze was just soft, gentle. Like he was trying to leave himself as open as he could to take as much of you in as possible. 

“I remember more of that than anything that actually happened in that room. Didn’t have much in the way of regrets,” he continued. “Had you to thank for most of that. Ellie and I had made things right, I was thankful for that. I was thankful you’d come back to me, even if it was just for a night. Thankful I got to tell you I loved you one last time…” 

“Joel,” you whispered. His thumb stroked your cheek. 

“I saw Sarah,” he said quietly. Your eyes went wide but you stayed silent. “When I was unconscious, I saw her. She was someplace good, somewhere that was bright and warm like her. And there was part of me that wanted to stay with her, take care of her and make sure she was OK. But… most of me wanted to come back here and be with you and the girls. And Sarah… she told me that it wasn’t my time yet. Told me I still had things to do here, that I needed to take care of you and Ellie and Savvy and I just… I knew she was right. I felt it, more than I’d felt so many other things, I felt that. I belong here, next to you. I don’t want to have any regrets when it comes to you but right now… well, I got one big one.” 

“What?” You asked quietly, your heart beating faster. 

“That I almost died before having the chance to live as your husband,” he said. Your breath caught. “But you saved me, gave me a chance to do it right. And I don’t think I deserve to ask you for a damn thing but I’m hopin’ you’ll let me, anyway. Will you give me that chance? Will you be my wife, will you marry me?” 

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear your blood in your ears. You reached out, hand trembling, and cupped his cheek. 

“Of course I will,” you said softly, voice thick and wet. Joel smiled, tears glistening in his eyes, and he kissed you, gentle and deep and lovely, a kiss empty of expectation and full of promise. 

When you separated, you just looked at him for a moment, taking him in, the man who would be your husband. The whole concept made you laugh, the sound bubbling up in you. 

He just smiled. 

“What, baby?” 

“I just…” you paused, still laughing a little. “It’s the end of the world, how do you even get married now? Not like there’s a courthouse…” 

“Well,” he said, rolling away from you for a moment and reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. You propped yourself up on your elbow and frowned, watching as he rolled back with a small wooden box in his hand. “Figure since the paperwork part don’t exist anymore, we can do it whatever way you want to but…” he opened the box. Inside was two rings, both dark metal, one band slender, the other thick. “Thought I’d make sure this part was covered.” 

“Oh Joel,” you sat up all the way, letting the blanket pool around your hips. You took the smaller ring from the box and held it up, looking at it up close. “Where did you find these?” 

“Made ‘em,” he said, sitting up, too. “They’re from one of Ares’ old horseshoes. Figured it was only appropriate…” 

“They’re perfect,” you breathed, turning it over in your fingers for a moment before looking at him. “Could we… I mean, I know it’s fast but… would you be OK if we just did it now?” 

“Did what?” 

“Got married,” you said, watching him. “I understand if you want to wait or want the girls there but…” 

“How do you want to do it?” He cut you off. 

You smiled a little. 

“How about we just make promises to each other.” 

He smiled back. 

“I like it,” he took his ring out and set the box aside. He held it out toward you and you took it before putting your ring in his palm. The two of you faced each other, blankets in your laps, knees brushing under the covers. 

He took a deep breath. 

“I promise I’ll love you with every part of me,” he said. “And I promise I’ll keep lovin’ you until there’s none of me left.” 

“I promise to love you every second of the rest of my life,” you replied. “And every second of whatever comes after, too.” 

“I promise to protect you,” he said. “Promise to never let anything hurt you.” 

“I promise to take care of you,” you said. “And look out for you and protect you because where you go, I go.” 

“I promise to love your girl like she’s my own,” he continued. “And I promise to take care of her and do everything I can to make sure she’s safe and happy.” 

“I promise to love Ellie like you do,” you said. “I promise to help guide her and protect her and give her the life she deserves to have.” 

You looked at each other for a moment, tears in your eyes, before Joel gently took your left hand in his. 

“Think they used to say ‘with this ring, I thee wed,’ or something like that,” he said, thumb tracing your knuckles. 

“That sounds right,” you smiled a little. 

“Alright then,” he said, lining the ring up with your finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” 

He slipped it into place. It fit perfectly, settling at the base of your finger with a soothing sense of finality. Joel lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed you there, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment before releasing you. You held his ring tight in your palm for a second, warming the metal, before taking Joel’s left hand. You lined the ring up with his finger and took a deep breath before looking him in the eye. 

“With this ring, I thee wed.” 

You slipped it into place, lacing your fingers with his once it settled where it belonged. You smiled, looking down and seeing his ring on your finger before looking back at him again. 

“Think I get to kiss the bride now,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“I think so, too.” 

He pulled you against him gently and kissed you all soft and deep, his lips holding every promise he’d made to you and, for the first time since the end of the world, you knew what it was to feel secure.

Next Chapter

A/N: ❤️

And that's all I have to say about that.

And that there's a lot more story to come. We're not quite to the end yet, I promise.

Thank you for being here and for reading. Love you!

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[queenlua]

hey lua what decks do phoenix aceattorney and miles aceattorney play in magic

PHOENIX WRIGHT

once upon a time, a friend bullied me into going to a Pro Tour Qualifier, which was probably the largest Magic tournament i’d ever been to at that time, right?

i was happy to be bullied, to be clear, but the problem was… i hadn’t played standard-format Magic competitively in about 2-3 years.  so my knowledge of the current metagame, what deck archetypes were popular, and what the current cards even were, was staggeringly limited.

“it will be fine,” said my friend.  “here, take this spare deck i built.  it’s super-straightforward and easy,” he lied.

he said this to me approx. 8 seconds before the first round began, so uhhhhh, i sure was playing a game of magical cards without ever having even looked at the damn deck before!

so, lo, literally in the course of playing the deck, i was learning how this shit was supposed to work.  “oh!” i’d exclaim with delight, halfway through my turn.  “THAT’S how those two cards are supposed to interact.  oh that’s super clever.  what a neat combo.”  and then i’d proceed to shiftily look at my opponent over my cards, riffle those cards a lil bit, and then say “pass” with as much of an enigmatic vibe as i could muster.

meanwhile, my opponent was Actually Prepared, and they were Trying To Win, and they were pissed.  they threatened to call Slow Play on me because i was taking so fucking long reading all the cards.  as in, he literally called a judge over, who stood there watching me the whole time, in order to determine if i was being Criminally Bad At Magic versus just A Regular Amount Of Bad At Magic, and i was sweating bullets the whole time because i didn’t know this deck or their deck or any of those cards and AHHHH why is the judge staring at me!!!

….which only served to make it EXTRA-humiliating for this poor fuck when i proceeded to eviscerate them 2-0.  hahahah get dunked onnnnnnnn nerd!!!

and then i also proceeded to eviscerate my next opponent???

sheer dumb luck.  i cannot overstate how ill-prepared i was for this tournament.  i absolutely did not deserve these wins.

meanwhile the friend who gave me the deck was having a much worse time with their deck, and they were like “what the fuck. you weren’t supposed to win. how are you winning with that shit, my deck’s so much better than yours”

anyway.  i think that’s the kind of scenario Phoenix would get into if he were an MtG player.  dude Gets Himself Into Situations And Then Uses Cleverness + Bullshit + Luck To Get Out Again.

(AA4-era Phoenix seems like he’s doing the same thing… but, in reality, he’s actually been meticulously crafting his deck in secret for the past six months.  he’s not even aiming to win the tournament, he’s just exploiting a known weakness in the opponent-matching system that lets him know with certainty who he’s going to get matched up against (spoiler: first round is Kristoph), and he’s hyper-optimizing his deck to beat Literally Only Those People.  meanwhile, Apollo, who built a tryhard hyper-optimized variant of Red Deck Wins, is lowkey annoyed that Phoenix's seemingly-random pile keeps vaulting him just one table above him in the standings, because Apollo knows his deck is better. he knows it!!!! just let him go 1v1 and prove it aaaaughhhh!!!)

((also, in case you want Actual Concrete Cards And Colors And Stuff: in general i think Phoenix prefers limited play (draft, sealed, "anything where you open booster packs on the spot & throw a deck together") to constructed play, because he doesn't like being tied down to any one game plan. when he does play constructed, i think he's less attached to a specific colors and more attached to specific mechanics. in particular: he's not a combo player exactly, but he likes mechanics that feel like bullshit. dude saw Madness for the first time & his eyes lit up & he was in LOVE, "you mean i'm discarding the card but then i can cast it for free??? hell YES." he absolutely ran a poison counter deck during New Phyrexia. ah fuck i just realized he was probably a huge stan for noted awful expansion Battle for Zendikar, i think i gotta cancel him now, sorry))

((and i think Phoenix also has a touch of Timmy in him! like, i went to a huge state tournament once with a bunch of really skilled players, and there was this one dude in our car who had a really solid deck, clearly adhered to a lot of the trends in the meta at the time... but his win condition was a Shivan Dragon. which wasn't a bad card at the time, it was a reasonable win condition, but it was... slightly suboptimal? not at all the obvious pick? sort of random? and multiple people asked him "why is that your win condition" & he shrugged and said "i like dragons." so the dragon stayed & that dude ended up getting second place in the whole tournament so FUCK optimal play, bring a dragon. i think Phoenix would sneak in a dragon now and again. just 'cause))

MILES EDGEWORTH

this one is trickier!!!

young!Miles is just going to play Whatever The Meta Deems To Be The Best Deck, right. the von Karma perfection thing and all. it's all very boring & micro-optimized to be the Best Deck Of Its Kind & he pours over the results of the big name tournaments week after week & does some math or whatever to hyper-optimize his own build of the Obviously Correct Deck. there is no soul in any of this, purely Executing On A Formula.

...but then he experiences Character Growth & has his big gay crisis & now he has to pick up the game again. he opens the latest tournament results... clicks around some win % stats for various cards in a desultory kinda way, and... his heart's just not in it, right?

enter 2-4 era Miles. 2-4 era Miles is playing some utterly unhinged Five Color Good Stuff thing. there's a lot of Planar Chaos cards in there, because that whole set was about Weird Shit & cards doing Stuff You're Familiar With (But In The Utterly Wrong Color!!!) & all that is resonating with Miles more than he'd care to admit. he cannot possibly talk about his unnecessary feelings but he can make a weird noise rock album about them. and by noise rock album i mean this fucking Magic deck.

and he's playing this deck with a 100% straight face, as though this is the exact same behavior that won him the Junior Super Series five years in a row & not a desperate cry for help from a madman. everyone else is like Miles... are you playing fucking singletons... in a fucking standard deck... you know your deck will be more consistent with four-ofs right... and then he gives a cool fish-eyed stare & taps out to cast some arcane bullshit legendary creature & gives a single rap of his knuckles against the table to indicate that he's passing the turn.

and it works, is the thing! all those years of training to be the Spikiest Spike Ever have paid off; this Five Color Good Stuff thing relies on some pretty clever insights to make the mana base work, and parts of what he's doing eventually get adopted by the larger metagame to become an Actual Serious Deck. but, like. it's still a monstrosity. any skilled players watching are still definitely wondering Are You Okay, Dude.

after 2-4, i think Miles settles back into playing something more normal. he still cares about winning, but he's going to do it with a touch of class. he wants a game that involves dialogue, some actual back-and-forth, because just trying to combo off is lame coward behavior.

aw yeah baby we're talking counterspells!!!

he's a blue player at heart & he's happiest when he's updating the autopsy report shutting down whatever his opponent's plan is. he'll splash other colors as the occasion calls for it, but he'd be happy running mono-blue the rest of his life. like, i ran a pretty fun Legacy deck back in the day which consisted of:

every kind of counterspell i could get my hands on,

propaganda because FUCK creatures,

thieving magpies for the card draw,

and a few silver wyverns to, y'know, actually win the game

...and i think Miles would appreciate that deck. just play counterspells until the opponent runs out of steam & then cruise your way to victory with a couple birds. simple. elegant. classic. doesn't involve any of this modern Planeswalker bullshit (Miles regards most developments that happened to MtG post-Time Spiral block or so as affronts to game design).

(i do think Miles has a secret fondness for sagas as a card type, however. they remind him of all that Character Growth, but in an abstract/subconscious/nonthreatening way. too bad most of them are a bit of poor match for the kinds of decks he likes to play)

FINALLY: i think Miles hates playing Commander with every fiber of his being & Phoenix loves it & this is a pretty serious point of contention in their relationship. poor dudes

[hypexion]

In Wilds of Eldraine, the two Kenrith twins, Will and Rowan, each gain an extra colour to show how their characters are developing. But while there's something obvious going on, there's also a few things I find interesting.

The two twins started in a sense of opposition. Rowan is Red, the colour of action and living in the moment. Will is Blue, the colour of planning things out and of waiting for the right moment. Red and Blue are considered enemies, their conflict quite clear.

In Wilds of Eldraine, Rowan picks up Black. Black is the colour of power and doing whatever it takes to reach your goals. But it is also the colour of determination and fighting to the bitter end. Meanwhile Will picks up White. White is the colour of peace and community. But it is also the colour of law and critically, self-righteousness. White's virtues oppose many of Black's vices - but the opposite is very much true, with Black's virtues standing against many of White's own vices.

So the obvious thing to note is that by picking up another pair of enemy colours, Will and Rowan have become more opposed to each. The Scion of Peace against the Scion of War. But the thing is, the five colours come in a wheel. Colours have enemies, but they also have allies.

Black is an ally of Red, both colours distaining attempts by others to control them. But Black's other ally is Blue, both colours seeking self-improvement, both willing to push past the bounds of what is "natural" if needed. White and Red, meanwhile, are as vicious enemy as White and Black, their conflict one of Order versus Chaos.

So when Rowan gains Black, she is taking a step towards her brother. Red's disinterest in planning for the future can be tempered by Black's desires, the knowledge that the first power you must grasp is power over yourself. But when Will gains White, he is moving away from his sister, his need for structure and order putting him into greater opposition to his sister's more free-spirited nature. They move in the same direction around the cricle, they both take on an ally of their original colour, but in the end the one who reaches towards the other is the one who is spurned.

And as a final note, consider their aunt, Eriette. She is White-Black, two enemy colours working together. Their most common shared desire? Control. Something both Rowan and Will seek in Wilds of Eldraine, in their own ways, as does Eriette. The twins each take a colour from their aunt, although one accepts her and the other rejects her.

[bangtangalicious]

placebo (m) | pjm (2)

pairing: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader, namjoon x reader (later)

summary: a microchip signals to you when you find someone compatible to be your soulmate. yours is the opposite of you in every way, and he doesn't even believe in soulmates

genre: 18+ romance, smut, angst, soulmate!au, dystopian backdrop, love triangle, romeo-juliet, opposites attract, grumpy-sunshine, fate versus destiny

premise: the soulmate initiative was a state program to promote healthy relationships. all citizens have a chip which signals to them when they find someone who meets their compatibility threshold. park jimin is a member of the resistance that aims to dismantle the state, as well as programs like this which rob free will. determined to love him no matter your differences, you fight for him despite the danger it puts both you and him in

wc: 8.5k || series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

warnings: multiple & explicit smut scenes, lots of kissing good lord, penetrative sex, rough sex, love-making, emotional sex, public sex, oral (f rec), fingering, fondling, fluffy aftercare, jungkook sorta just walks in on you while showering so theres that, physical fighting (not mc), blackmail, a is for angst, crying, mention of family deaths, use of cigarettes, lying, jimin might be a tiny bit toxic if you squint

taglist: @tornparts @loona15 @effielumiere @agustdreamsblog @jnghs @dragons-flare @xiusmarshmallow @ratherbefangirling @infires-imagines @aretha170 @dvalitaes @kookiejeonie @ddaeng-angmoh @idk123906 @medievalpink5 @cuteipat @jimin-neverout @uarmyhore @natalie-rdr @secradee @tea4sykes @yawnkive

Indulgence. The ironic meeting spot of the resistance within the isolated Red District of the city. Neon lights flickering across inebriated eyes—eyes that dreamed of justice but currently were mesmerized by the dancers, embodying grace and allure, fluid movements, enticing glances, bodies telling tales of desire. Here they would congregate, removed from the prying eyes of society.

Jimin pushed open the heavy door, hit with the aromatic blend of perfume, whiskey, and sweat. An intoxicating haze. Across the room, Jin and the others sat, cigarettes lit and glasses clinking. A celebration of sorts—Jimin wondered why. They never invited him here. Frankly, he never cared to come either. It was a liability. Jimin was one of the few resistance members that continued to possess the state-mandated microchip. Him arriving in person to a banned establishment such as a strip club, put the entire area on the state’s radar.

Nevertheless, Jin texted him to come. So he obeyed.

“There he is” Jin greeted him from the comfort of the leather-clad booth. The light chatter diminishing as the others acknowledged him. Jimin took a seat, Jin handing him the cigarette right away.

As the smoke caressed his senses, a fleeting calm washed over him, a momentary escape from the chaos of the world. The world around him seemed to dim, and his mind went straight to you. How it felt so right to have your body hugged up against him when he rode you home. Your lips hovering over his neck, your scent, all of you overwhelming all of him. Speeding way beyond the limit at the edge of the night. No one to find you, no one to interfere.

In that moment the two of you were not soulmates. You were two people, high on the danger, adrenaline, and glimpse of a new beginning. You were alive.

Jimin’s lips curled in a subtle smile. The others could never know. He couldn’t imagine what they would do to you, if they knew. Jimin’s mere presence around you was a danger. The risk he took seeing you was worth it, for the thrill. But he knew better than to push his luck.

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Across the table, Min Yoongi—a high ranked member who was like a mentor to his brother, teased. Jimin shrugged, tapping the ashtray. He wondered if any of them had felt the kind of high he had with you. Heart racing, fingers trembling, blood hot with desire.

“Jimin went to see his soulmate”

He blinked. Jin’s smile was wide—cocky. The whole table looked around in shock, exchanging looks of concern.

“Hyung what the hell” Jimin muttered under his breath. He didn’t know how Jin found out, probably had him followed. Fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. He should have cut all contact with you the second he found out.

But he was too curious. Too drawn to your sweet taste that left scars on his lips. Was that selfish?

“Look,” Jin cleared his throat, “We’ve had come concerns about your commitment to the cause” Listening patiently, Jimin took another sharp inhale, letting the smoke dissipate through his lips. “You have an opportunity to prove your loyalty. Are you willing to do so?”

Willing. What a joke—Jimin mused. Technically, the resistance would never force actions on any of its members. But Jimin was a puppet and the strings of the fight for freedom chained him.

“Jimin’s soulmate also happens to be a scientist. Working on experiments for the Soulmate Initiative itself”

Jimin’s fists clenched, tempted like many other times to give Jin a solid punch to the face. A waitress approached the table. “Sir, this young woman was looking for you” She motioned to the entrance where you stood. Uncomfortable, scanning the foreign space.

Jimin exhaled, breath full of smoke, coughing out in shock. What the fuck were you doing here?

“Ah, she’s pretty, Jimin. If she were mine I’d probably buy into the soulmate crap just for a taste, although I’m assuming that’s what you’ve been doing huh” Jin teased. Jimin kicked his shin, not appreciating his flirty tone.

Setting down his cigarette, he immediately stood. Passing back an annoyed glare at Jin who simply chuckled.

Without a word he pulled you outside into the cold. The wind was crisp still—his leather jacket shielding him from it. And you were drowning in your puffy coat, knitted hat covering up to your eyelids.

Cute.

“Miss me already, doctor?” Jimin teased, trying his best to figure out why the hell you would have come here, and moreover how you would have known about this place.

You tugged at your sleeves, nose scrunching as you searched for words. He stared into your eyes. Your pretty, fucking gorgeous eyes that transfixed him like hypnosis. Eyes that said so much so loud, and yet he was dying to hear them. Jimin tried to fight it, the way every fiber of him was screaming to kiss you, fists clenching as he held himself back.

And then you bit your lip. So subtly, out of habit. But you did. And fuck.

Fuck.

Jimin lost it. He smashed his lips against yours. The taste he swore he was addicted to. Craving your lips, gasping, breathing you in. Hands cupping your face, forehead tilted against yours—he kissed you like your touch was all he needed to survive.

Maybe it was.

“Get off of me” You shoved him away. Jimin stared at you, stunned. “Asshole”

“Y/n—what?” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away. Had he done something? His mind whirred, scanning through your entire evening. Every word he said, every move he made. He loved every second—and he thought you had too.

“Fuck you Jimin. I lost my job because of what you did” You gripped his jacket.

What the hell is she talking about? Jimin’s eyes softened. “You lost your job?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, until Jin’s words came echoing back. An opportunity to prove yourself.

They were testing him.

“You stole the data from the lab, didn’t you?”

Jimin’s nails dug into his palm as he took a deep breath.

“Yeah.” His response curt. He watched as tears began to spill from your eyes. His throat felt tight, chest pounding with regret.

“Why?”

“You know why, doctor”

“Did today mean nothing to you?” Your voice was small. Jimin stepped back, hand running through his hair. Lying to you felt wrong, but he had to do it. He had to lie to you. He had to destroy this before it began.

“Look, I don’t want to be in a relationship with you” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. The hurt in your eyes broke him a little. “I only went to see you because I had a job to do. I tricked you. That’s who I am”

This was for the best. So why did it feel so fucking horrible?

You shook your head furiously, “You’re lying”

“If you had a mind of your own, you wouldn’t even want to be in a relationship with someone like me anyway. That’s how I know it’s bullshit. They’re controlling you”

“No” You were stubborn, “No, I know you feel it too”

Jimin wanted to break. Shatter into a million pieces and get whisked away by the wind. His heart ached, bliss was only a truth away.

“Of course I fucking feel it, there’s a chip in my fucking neck telling me to” Jimin snapped, grabbing your waist, “And god does it feel good. So fucking good, I want to kiss you so fucking bad whenever I see you. But that’s all it is. I’m not in love with you Y/n—I can’t be”

You stepped away from him, evidently shaking. Jimin felt awful—sick to his core. Each tear streaming down your face was a bullet to his heart. A punch to the face. He wished the ground would swallow him whole. This was his fault—he shouldn’t have entertained you, not for a second. You should hate him, and he knew you probably wouldn’t because of the damn microchip. Which was the most frustrating part.

“Y/n are you done?”

Jimin turned to see Jungkook pull up in a small electric car. His glasses were foggy, hair a shaggy mess over his long coat.

“Glasses. Always a pleasure”

“Shut the fuck up man” Jungkook parked the car, stepping out to rush past him, taking you into his arms. Jimin crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Jungkook wiped your tears away before leading you into the car.

You turned back, one last time. He wondered if you could read his eyes. If you could, he was screaming out to you.

Fists balled up in fury, he stormed back inside the club. Jin stood by the window, amused by the whole ordeal. Slow applause filled his ringing ears as Jin approached him, patting him on his back.

“Well done. Almost wasn’t sure you had it in you”

Jimin had enough. He felt disgusting. Venom through his veins as his throat felt heavy with guilt. He was sick and tired of Jin. Sick and tired of the resistance dictating his every move. Holding their money over his head—he could be fine on his own. He could go off, get a job somewhere and fend for himself. Maybe he could get a scholarship to keep studying, he would never know. Under the guise of his brother’s wishes, how much was he expected to sacrifice?

With a surge of adrenaline, he lunged forward, fists clenched, aiming towards his Jin’s jaw. The music stopped. People gathered around, watching intently. Jimin’s eyes fuming with rage.

“You forget who the fuck I am?” Jimin sneered, “You’re out of line.”

Jin chuckled darkly, touching his bruise before standing back upright. “Oh come on, you don’t actually care about her. You barely know the bitch” Jimin swung at him again, but Jin dodged him move, forearm intercepting to twist him back. Jimin proceeded to kick back into his gut.

“Call her a bitch again, see what happens.” Jin landed on the floor, grunting as Jimin towered over him, “Get her her fucking job back Jin”

Jin wasn’t backing down. He punched Jimin back, the clash of their fists echoed through the silent room. Blow after blow exchanged, the impact reverberating through their bodies, fueling their determination.

“Where the fuck would you go?” Jin laughed between strikes, “She will never forgive you now. I you both a favor”

Jin dodged another swift punch, retaliating with a swift kick to his Jimin’s abdomen. Jimin staggered backward, but quickly regained his footing, launching himself back at him.

“You can’t love her Jimin, even if you wanted to” Jin rammed Jimin against the wall, trapping his throat with his elbow. Attempting to reason with him. “A part of you would always wonder. I know you kid. You have a duty to your brother”

“You’re the reason my brother is dead” Jimin hissed, trying to push Jin off but to no avail. They stood, chests heaving, their eyes locked with an intense spite.

“Okay enough” Yoongi interrupted, rolling his eyes. He held Jimin’s shoulder before nodding to Jin to let him go. “Jin, please get the poor girl her job back. That’s an order. And Jimin, the resistance core will be in touch about a character review. Stay away from the scientist—you know the rules”

You—

At some point it began to rain. Standing still, cold droplets seeping through your coat made you shiver. A welcome sensation, numbing the pain in your chest.

Jungkook unlocked your apartment before pulling you into his chest. You sobbed into him as he pressed his lips on top of your head.

"You poor thing, let’s get you into the shower"

He was sweet, handing you towels, laying out a pair of dry clothes for you. The hot vapor of the shower forcing you relax, forcing you to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. You slid to the floor, the shower pouring down on your back. Hot water scalding against your head. Hugging your knees to your chest.

You hear the shower door slide open, not reacting as your voice dried into soft sobs. Jungkook hovered over you, clothes getting wet at the edge of the water. Instead of focusing on the fact that you were completely naked, soaking wet in front of him, he looked into your eyes. Worried.

Finally, he crawled into the tiny space, sitting down by your side. His large hands caressing your hunched shoulders. You met his gaze. Grateful for him, as always.

God why couldn't it have been him? Such a perfect piece to your missing puzzle. His hair began to curl up in front of his eyes, dewy as he shook the water away. He was so close. So warm. Lips so soft, so near.

He smiled, and you could tell his thoughts mirrored yours. Eyes scanning over your face, your body, before he looked away. A disappointment in his eyes.

"I told you he was no good" Jungkook muttered, a hint of bitterness.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the way the water flowed over your head, down onto your eyelids, dripping off onto your face. Your boss, Dr. Jung had texted you—the data was missing. All of it, your years of work grinding through your degree. Jimin had stolen all of it. Inviting himself into your lab under the guise of wanting to give you a chance. It was a lie. You could barely fathom that soulmates could lie to one another. Let alone hurt them so deeply. Your fingers trembled, pressed between your knees.

“If I had been his type.” You confessed, laughing slightly, “Or somehow better, then he might have believed just a little bit that we were actually meant to be together, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have betrayed me”

“Bullshit” Jungkook said quietly, “It’s not you. It’s how he was raised”

You knew he was right. Ever logical, Jungkook never entertained pointless theory. He looked at the facts—and the fact was that you finally met your soulmate. And he was part of the resistance, a group built around free will. Something they claim the state denies through programs such as the Soulmate Initiative.

“Y/n” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, “Have you ever considered that Jimin just may not want a soulmate at all?”

You stared at Jungkook. Picking at your nails nervously as you considered his question. There were no laws that forced soulmates to be together. It was usually the case that they simply chose to do so. It was logical, to you. Be with the person you are compatible with—the person who can love you and make you happy. Complete you like no one else can. You thought back to your “date” with him. The way you felt so incredibly safe with him. The amazing adrenaline rush you felt holding onto him for dear life as he raced on his motorcycle. The look in his eyes after he kissed you.

Those were facts. That was real.

“When I first saw Jimin and knew, I found myself wishing I hadn’t looked” You placed your hand over Jungkook’s.

Jungkook stared blankly at the floor. Body tensing at your words.

“Well” Turning off the shower, he stared at you, at your body. “I never looked anywhere but at you” Frozen in place, his throat tight, cheeks blushing.

You stared at him, bewildered.

His fingers trapped your jaw, before allowing his lips to slide onto yours. You groaned into his mouth, as his other hand rested on your thigh. Gripping at your skin.

As your lips touched, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. For years this was all you wanted. Him—just like this. Wanting you just as bad. Time stood still as your mouths delicately met, exploring each other, evoking a rush of feeling. Of comfort.

But what it felt like with Jimin was different. Something you couldn’t quite make sense of. Logic was misaligned, but Jimin felt incredible to kiss. His smile made you giddy with happiness.

As Jungkook pulled away, a mixture of confusion and clarity settled upon you. You missed Jimin, despite it all. Your heart may not be ready to forgive, but you weren’t ready to give up either. There had to be more to the story. You simply refused to believe your soulmate would ever put you in harms way.

“Forget about him” Jungkook urged almost knowingly, voice trying desperately to push out your infiltrative thoughts. His nose tracing yours, “Just forget him”

He slid his lips onto yours again, this time with more intensity. You could feel without a doubt that he wanted you. As you fell back onto the cold shower floor, Jungkook’s hand cushioning your head. His eyes locked shut—but yours wide open.

You groaned in surprise, attempting to push his large frame away. He got the hint, lifting you back up.

“Let me stay with you tonight” Jungkook pleaded, grabbing a towel and wrapping it over your shoulders. “So you don’t have to be alone”

You couldn’t say no. It hurt too much.

You woke up in Jungkook’s arms, his hands on your stomach, and your back against his chest. Carefully you tried to move your legs which were wedged between his.

He groaned, feeling you move. Tightening his hold and pulling you back to him. You felt your breath escape you as Jungkook’s prominent boner pressed into your thigh. You were a scientist. A biologist—so you knew these things were perfectly normal. But you couldn’t help the way your stomach erupted into butterflies.

“Morning,” Jungkook reached out, stretching cutely. “That was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while” He confessed, nuzzling against your neck. “You sleep okay?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. He was being incredibly sweet-addictively so, and you wanted to give in.

“Yeah I did, thanks” You leaned into his touch, his lips warm and sloppy against your nape. You couldn’t help the soft moan leaving your lips as his hands slid over your stomach. Threatening to go higher.

“You smell so good” He muttered lazily. A small smile painted your lips. Your phone began to vibrate. Checking the screen, you raised your eyebrows.

“Dr. Jung?”

“Y/n, it seems as though the data were returned,” He sounded annoyed, per usual, “You must have some great connections because I’ve been ordered to re-employ you, but best believe if you bring another stranger into my lab again—”

“Oh, uh. N-Never, sir”

The man hung up. You blinked slowly, processing. “I got my job back”

Jungkook’s smile widened, “That’s great—”

“Jimin did this,” You stood up urgently, interrupting Jungkook, “I have to find him”

“Y/n” Jungkook grabbed your arm before you could run off. “He doesn’t want you. He made that clear”

You shook your head, “I can’t give up. I deserve love, and so does he”

Jimin—

The resistance core was furious once they caught wind of Jimin’s actions. He was to be put in front of the resistance core council to debate his allegiance. Jimin couldn’t care less. Perhaps this was the escape—you were the escape, the chance he needed to get out and find his own destiny. Course, you were gone. You wouldn’t be able to forgive him, hell, Jimin wouldn’t want you to.

You were probably with Jungkook. He wondered if you liked Jungkook back since he clearly liked you. Maybe he comforted you. Maybe the two of you slept together.

Jimin wanted to vomit.

“Jimin” The council head spoke after some silence, reviewing the documented complaints, “We believe in free will. If you don’t want to support us, the cause that your brother gave so much to, to avenge the death of your family, that is your prerogative. However if you intend to stay with us, you must agree to never make contact with The Scientist ever again”

Nodding, Jimin gulped. He figured as much.

“We realize the pull of the Soulmate Initiative is tough to resist. And we do want you to be happy. So if you really do want to be with The Scientist, you can do so if she leaves her job and is willing to cooperate with us”

He couldn’t do that to you. No way.

Jimin had to decide. Jin was right, if he left he didn’t have anywhere to go. Not a penny to his own name. He did want to see change. At least here, he was able to make an impact. Here, his existence had some meaning.

“I won’t contact her again. I am grateful for the council’s mercy”

On his bike, he had no direction. No sense of where he was going—but he drove on. Fast, dangerously swerving the roads. He couldn’t talk to you, but he could check up on you at least. No, that would be far too painful.

Tears built in his eyes, clouding his vision. Bringing his motorcycle to a stop on the edge of the highway, he cried. A child denied a toy, he cried because he missed you. Because his body wanted you and he had to deny it. Deny you. Everything stripped away from him—his family, brother and now you. Was there a point to any of it?

“Are you alright?” A car halted—large white SUV, clearly indicating a state official. The window was tainted black, bulletproof. As it rolled down, Jimin could see a pair of eyes. It was a man. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Yeah, I’m good”

He rode to campus, soul void. Studying was a proven distraction to his hopeless reality. After all, he couldn’t afford to sulk around. He had to keep moving. As he walked towards the law library, he saw you. You saw him. The two of you frozen in time.

Until you were running. Running to him with your arms open and he caught you, swinging you up with the momentum, hand behind your head as he hugged you into him. Nirvana. Instinct, taking in all you were—your scent, the heat from your body—until he realized he was touching you and pushed you away.

“I got my job back” You were elated, brimming with excitement. Jimin wanted to kiss every inch of your smiling face. A warm feeling erupting from your happiness.

“Glad to hear it, doctor” He remained stoic, nevertheless. He needed you to give up. Needed you to get away.

“You care about me, you did this”

Jimin sighed. Why did his soulmate have to be the most stubborn woman on the fucking planet—he didn’t know.

“I don’t care about you”

“Stop fighting me” You pleaded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. “Look I’m sure you had your reasons for doing what you did. We can move past this”

“I already told you I don’t want this”

You stepped forward, face inched away from his, a fiery determination in your eyes.

“Really?” You tilted your face, squinting at him. Jimin nodded, eyebrows raised.

You stroked his face, just as he had done to you many times. He was stiff, taken aback by your forwardness. Without thinking, you pushed yourself onto your toes so you could melt into a kiss. You knew he could feel it, down to his bones—nothing was more right in the world than when you were in his arms, lips on his. No moral compass could keep you apart in those moments, Jimin was merely a servant, a fool bending to your magnetism and he would give up everything in an instant to feel like this forever.

His lips parted, letting you slip your tongue in. Widening your jaw to deepen the kiss. Tender in his actions, taming his need. Savoring every second.

Tears rolled down his face. If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he wanted it all. Forehead pressed against yours, his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, breathing barely inches away. Panting. Heart pounding.

“I can’t” You could feel his words, spoken upon your lips. Tone serious. No teasing, no flirting, just straight. “They won’t let me”

He stared at you a beat longer. Before grabbing your wrist, dragging you behind the library to an alleyway near the dumpsters. He pressed you against the wall, gripping your waist firmly.

He dove into your neck, fluttering kisses all over. Fingers trailing up your sides to where he grabbed your wrists, stretching them to either side of you. Movement urgent, frantic—you were his kryptonite, and he was unraveling at the seams.

Your fingers intertwined with his, as he nipped at your jaw. Breathing heavily, you attempted to call out his name but no voice came. Instead a soft moan. His fingers tightened around yours as he pulled away, staring into your eyes.

Silence. Only the sounds of both of you desperately trying to catch your breath. Flushed and bewildered.

“You should leave” Jimin’s voice was coarse. Deeper than usual, “Go”

He didn’t move. Neither did you. You challenged him, gaze unwavering. Waiting to see what he would do next.

It was as if something inside of him snapped. Something feral, raw, suppressed. Instantly he released your hands, fumbling to unbutton your pants. He yanked them down just enough before doing so to himself. Fingers softly gliding over your folds, barely teasing. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up against the wall before yanking your panties aside. Biting his lip, focused. You watched, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, as his cock teased your entrance.

“Tell me to stop” He growled. “Tell me right fucking now doctor”

You shook your head, sliding your hand to his jaw. Blinking you stared into his lust shot eyes, eyelids fluttering, hazy with desire.

He sank into you slowly, letting out a low groan into your neck. Hands holding you steady, he was patient. Despite the heated urgency of his actions. There was not a thought in his head. Not a thought in yours. Nothing but raw need as he felt your hot walls tighten around him.

Jimin’s nose traced yours as he began to move in and out. Bouncing you up against the wall while your hands ran through his hair, scratching at him. Grabbing fistfuls and tugging his head back. He was so deep, so full inside you. The drag of his cock against your walls had you seeing stars. Rolling your eyes back, you wanted to scream.

“Ssh, be quiet for me doctor” Jimin kissed your lips playfully, lingering as he continued to fuck into you. He rolled his hips, pushing you up with every thrust, fingers digging into the bottom of your ass.

He let you onto your feet, pulling out so he could turn you around. Your hands up against the wall, his wrapped around your chest, shamelessly grabbing at you over your coat. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel you. Unzipping the damned thing he tossed it aside, enveloping you to keep you from the cold.

Finally his hands could slip under your sweater, pushing it up to the tops of your chest, tits sensitive to his touch. Hooking his jaw over your shoulder he watched as he squeezed your breasts, caressing them fondly.

Jimin pressed his lips against your collar, digging in his teeth. Keeping a hand on your chest, he slid back into you from behind, this time immediately rocking his hips steady into you. You arced your back, reaching back to grab his hair again. The slippery echoes of your cunt getting louder as his thrusts intensified.

Pressing you up even closer to the wall, he let one hand dive in front of you, fingers gliding over your clit. His touch was gentle, reaching exactly where you needed him to. And he could tell. Smiling against the back of your head as he felt you beginning to tremble. Wetness seeping as his cock nudged in further, finger rapidly circling your clit right there. Pushing you closer and closer to your edge.

Nothing but red. Red heat building inside of you, toes curling, lungs clenching—you couldn’t breathe. His body so close, the warmth against the cold air. You bucked forward, body spasming, twitching all over. He didn’t waver, he kept going, finger working you through your orgasm. Biting back moans as you tightened around his cock. Your wetness seeping through, soaking him.

Cursing, he pulled out, afraid he was going to lose himself in the sweet sensation of you. Turning you back around he pulled your thighs apart, sliding his cock against your clit, causing you to wince.

“Fuck, come here” He gritted, pulling you into another kiss. His hand tugging at his cock. He spilled into his palm, letting out a deep moan.

Finding steadiness, he cleaned himself up, zipping up his pants as you did the same. Grabbing your coat from the ground, he handed it to you.

As he was doing so, you noticed the bruises on his skin.

“Jimin—are you hurt?” You touched him again, causing him to flinch. “When did this happen?”

“Don’t” He warned. “Just go”

“Can I at least bandage you—my place isn’t too far from here, come on okay” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along. Jimin stood firm in his ground.

“Why can’t you fuck off”

You turned back at him, “Fine, let me do this and then you can go—I won’t bother you again”

Jimin looked at you skeptically, but chose to go along regardless. He followed you through campus, the snow beginning to melt away—spring was nearing. He could see tiny flower buds on bushes, birds chirping in the distance. Your apartment was cozy. A smaller building, you were on the top floor. Frazzled, you fumbled with your keys to get in, and Jimin was hardly surprised to see the haphazard shape your place was in—textbooks, papers everywhere. 

“Sorry about the mess”

Jimin was a neat freak himself. Nevertheless, he swallowed his irks and let you lead him into your bedroom. He scanned the walls, aside from some nerdy science posters there wasn’t much there. He noticed your shelf of romance novels, as well as a copy of Dr. Kim Namjoon’s memoir.

You pulled off his jacket, then his shirt. His toned muscles littered with purple. The bruises causing your eyes to widen. Jimin couldn’t help but smirk. They weren’t watching anymore—no harm in teasing you a little.

“Like what you see doc?”

You blushed, meeting his eyes before immediately returning to your task. “No—I mean, yeah you look great. Not your bruises—those don’t look good at all, but here let me just—” You found a first aid kit under your bed. Grabbing some gauze and alcohol, you began to tend to his wounds. He watched as you kneeled in front of him, focus lasered onto the task at hand.

Jimin grabbed your jaw suddenly, overwhelmed by your tender care. Pulling your face to his. You blinked at him, stunned as he kissed you softly. Humming against your mouth. More relaxed, at ease, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Jimin let me—mmpfh” He didn’t let you finish. He didn’t want to hear another word. Pulling you into his lap, he slid your own coat to the floor. Not leaving your lips for a second.

“No” You squealed, giggling slightly. “No more until you let me clean your wounds”

Jimin pouted, looking to you with puppy eyes. “But you’re my doctor aren’t you—and this makes me feel good”

“I thought you wanted to leave” You taunted him right back. He grinned, enjoying the way you were pushing him.

“I’m not in a rush” His eyes darkened, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You don’t ever have to leave, you know” You offered. “They can’t hurt you here”

Jimin raised his eyebrows, “The resistance you mean? Why are you gonna take them all on your own?” He nudged you playfully. You shrugged.

“I could use my evil science powers”

Jimin laughed. Laughed in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Why did he want to leave so badly—why did he have to push you away? Could he dare to hope that you two could survive anything—it seemed unrealistic. Cliché. But here he was, dumb in love with you despite his best efforts.

Wait what.

Jimin gulped, growing serious all of a sudden as he continued to stare at you. You rose from his lap, a goofy smile on your face as you packed up the first aid kit.

“You said they won’t let you…were you talking about the resistance? Will they not let you be with me? Because I’m your soulmate” He watched as you wandered into your kitchen.

“It’s not because you’re my soulmate. It’s your job” Jimin responded, “But I also don’t believe in this soulmate stuff, which you know”

“Well clearly you do when it helps you get laid” You joked. He knew you were joking, but it wasn’t funny to him. His physical attraction to you was feverish, and it concerned him that he might be taking advantage of you. Getting benefits of a commitment he was unwilling to make. You returned, noticing his serious aura. “Jimin—it’s fine. You told me you don’t want me, anything that happened after was my choice”

You don’t want me. Of course he wanted you. How could he not want you—you were perfect. You were suffocatingly stubborn, clingy, messy and absolutely clueless but you were perfect. And you would fight to the ends of the earth for what you believed in, while Jimin wasn’t sure if he believed in anything anymore.  

“I’d never ask you to leave your job. But they own me, Y/n. I really can’t do anything about it. I didn’t even steal your data. They did, and they made me take the fall for it so that you’d hate me and leave me alone”

“I will leave you alone Jimin, if I think that’s what you actually want” You held his hand firmly, “But I have a tough time thinking that’s true”

Jimin looked at you. The glimmer of hope in your eyes. “Even if they allowed it, that doesn’t change the fact that we’re inherently not compatible”

“We are compatible. We’re soulmates. You do what you have to do for the resistance, I won’t interfere and I would never sell you out”

“What if my job forces me to damage something you believe in though?”

You sighed deeply. Jimin could tell you didn’t know the answer. Despair began to weigh down on you both, how unlucky must you be to have been matched to someone like him. He wanted to be the man you deserved, but he wasn’t. Plain and simple.

“I like you, Jimin” You confessed instead. “I think you’re great. I want you. You’re in my dreams, I can’t not think about you. Even when Jungkook kissed me I,”

Jimin’s grip on your hand loosened. “Jungkook kissed you?”

“It didn’t mean anything! He was just trying to comfort me, I think”

He put his hands up in defense, “I’m not upset with you doctor—I get it. He’s cute”

You made a face, “You make fun of him”

Jimin winked, “You can be lame and cute at the same time. You are”

“You think I’m lame?”

“I think you’re a nerd” He confessed, matter of factly. You punched him playfully before sliding your lips onto his. He pulled you against his chest, holding you tenderly. “Prettiest fucking nerd, but nerd nonetheless”

You giggled against his lips. He kissed you again and again, smiling in between and it was everything. Jimin couldn’t even fathom that you were real. A real person in his arms making him so happy—elated about the future in a way he was sure he’d never been before. You were everything. The start of everything.

Falling onto his back, you climbed over him, lips not parting for even a moment. His hands gripping at the hem of your sweater before you allowed him to pull it over your head. He admired you, lips swollen in nothing but your baby blue sports bra.

He let his fingers trail over the fabric, drawing light circles and watching the way you twitched under him. You gasped, unconsciously rolling your hips against him. The look on your face was priceless, biting down on your lip hard as you tried to tame down your sensitivity. Adorable, how you thought Jimin couldn’t tell. That he couldn’t read your body like the back of his hand. Finally you grabbed his wrists, stopping his movements so that you could pull off your bra. Your breasts popping out—Jimin lay dumbfounded, eyes glued to your body.

You looked at him, shy. Jimin exhaled shakily, unsure how to capture his amazement. He wanted to touch—so fucking bad. You rose carefully, sliding down you trousers until you were left in your panties. Then those dropped to the floor.

“Fucking hell doctor, you’re gonna give me a heart attack” He stood up, unzipping his own pants where his bulge was painful, burning between his legs. Kicking the garments aside, his hands hovered over your waist—barely touching. Waiting for your signal.

“You’re beautiful”

Jimin’s ears burned at your words, blush across his face. You looked at him with awe. His heart fluttered, realizing he had never really been complimented on his looks before, merely his ability to fight.

“Can I touch you?” His voice was raspy, barley audible. Lust seized every fiber of him. “Please let me fucking touch you”

You nodded, and Jimin wasted not one more second grabbing your hips, sliding his hands to your ass where he squeezed you as his lips locked with yours.

Laying you down on the bed, his lips trailed every inch of your skin from your toes, up your calves, down your thighs. Loving the way you twitched and moaned at his every move. Riling you up, he wanted to see you fall apart under him. His fingers found your clit again, palm rolling under your folds. You grinded on his wrist, fingers helplessly clutching the sheets beneath you.

Dropping to his knees, he spread your thighs, admiring your glistening folds. You bucked your hips as he traced them—trying desperately to shut your legs but he overpowered you.

“Jimin I’ve never—I don’t know if that’s such a good” He shushed you sweetly, looking deep into your eyes. Kissing the insides of your thigh, he worked he way to your pussy. Slow, patient, kissing the edge of your folds as you squealed.

“It’s okay baby, I want to” He promised, and you believed him. His hand caressing your thigh to ease the tension before he slipped in his tongue. Eyes not leaving yours for a second. It was incredibly intimate. He seemed to consume you, in a white-hot blaze of adoration. You reached for him, sitting up to grab a fistful of his hair. The pull turned him on even more, his tongue flicking faster, eating you out for all you were worth.

“Jimin” You panted, “Ohh fuck” He continued to fuck his tongue inside of you, drinking up your essence. His wet tongue hot, deep in your core where you could feel his every move—driving you crazy. Your eyes dazed, frazzled beyond belief. Lips parted as your eyes rolled back with pleasure.

Coming up for air, he licked his lips, savoring your taste. You stared at him with blasted eyes as he crawled up to your face so he could kiss you again.

“Thank you” Jimin chuckled at your words.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. It’s my fucking pleasure”

“Should I do you?”

He shook his head. If he didn’t pound his cock inside you right now, he swore he was going to implode.

“Open up for me baby, yeah?” He lined his cock up with your soaked cunt. Slowly, inch by inch he began to slide in. You bit down on your lips hard, until blood trickled out. Jimin licked it right up, tongue teasing your lips before sliding into your mouth. He bottomed out, lips glued to yours, groaning into you. Propped up on his forearms, he gave you a moment to adjust. He felt so good—shafted deep inside you. You clenched around him obscenely tight, he was seeing stars. You were a dizzy hurricane, and he wanted to be swept up by you. Destroyed until there was nothing left.

“You feel so good” He buried his face into your neck, “Fuck baby, so fucking good for me. You feel okay baby? Can I move?”

“Y-yeah” At your green light, Jimin carefully pulled out. Back in, tight thrusts beginning to pick up in pace. Dotting your face with kisses between each one. He swore he was losing consciousness, vision blurred with desperation—craving of you. Heart pounding as pleasure wiped through his nerves.

Hooking your leg over his shoulder, he adjusted his angle, hitting you even deeper. Your cunt coating him, the sound and smell of sex driving Jimin feral. His hands grabbing your breasts, wanting you to be stimulated—to feel as good as he was.

“Fuck baby, I don’t ever want to leave” His mind was void. Reason out the door as he spewed nonsense. “I’ll leave it all for you baby, leave it all for this fucking cunt—oh God”

“Don’t leave” You responded, disoriented by his pace. “Don’t ever leave me”

“I won’t baby, fuck, I’m never leaving” He kissed you firmly, letting your leg fall to the side. He stared into your eyes, foreheads touching as he drove his cock in deep. “You like it baby? You want my big fucking cock, yeah?”

You nodded furiously as he taunted you. The pout in your lips sending him overboard. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum so fucking hard—you’re so fucking hot, my pretty girl—where do you want me? Want me to cum on your face?”

“Please” You gasped as he pulled out, tugging his cock as he kneeled tall over you, letting his cum squirt down onto your eyelids. He groaned, taken by the sensation and by how sexy you looked covered in his cum like that. Ropes of cum streaming out as his hips bucked, hot pleasure seizing him.

“Fuckk” He collapsed onto you, burying his face into your chest. Rolling onto your sides, you caressed his head against you. He looked up at you, nothing but fondness in his eyes. Wiping the cum off of you with his discarded t-shirt.

The two of you lay in silence, simply adoring one another. Jimin pulled you into his arms, grabbing your comforter so the two of you could slide under. He stroked your back softly, fingers trailing up and down your spine. Naked legs tangling. Fitting against each other like a puzzle. He kissed your forehead as you buried your face into his chest.

“You okay?” He asked after some time, massaging your shoulders gently. You peered up at him, content and blissed.

“This is really nice” You whispered, trying to hide your smile. Jimin held your chin steady, preventing you from turning away.

“You’re so cute” He muttered, landing another peck to your lips. It never got old, he swore he could kiss you forever. “I—”

He stiffened, unsure if he was ready to say it. It was too soon, and he still lacked the answers of how the two of you could possibly work, and you must have known because you simply chuckled.

“I know. Me too”

You—

The lab had always been your safe space. The comfort of the chunky white lab coats, latex-free gloves and goggles. Your protection. Your serenity. As you went about your trials, Jungkook sat at the bench next to yours, typing away at his computer.

“What are you working on?” The silence was too loud. Things felt awkward with Jungkook. You knew you couldn’t tell him you hooked up with Jimin. Even though, in your eyes, you did the right thing. Your first time with Jimin was rushed. Unexpected. But so was he. In the most flawed way, he was somehow perfect. You knew he was scared of what he felt. Scared to question what he believed, but in that moment all he wanted was you and he was sure to let you know that. Second time was bliss. And you were so excited to go home to him. Excited for every amazing night to come. You wanted to tell Jungkook everything, but wasn’t sure he would appreciate knowing the intimate details of your love life.

“I’m finding your compatibility results”

You swerved, “What?” Kicking your chair so it rolled next to Jungkook’s. You scanned his screen, seeing him type in some code. “How?”

“I have my ways” He assured you, “I just want to get to the bottom of this, you deserve better”

“Jungkook, that might not be necessary anymore actually because…”

“Here!” Your attention redirected to his screen. He clicked on a file, opening a scanned proposal. Scrolling through, he finally found your name. “Y/n L/n, age, birthday, la da da” Humming, he searched the data for a clue.

“Well?” You tapped your fingers against the desk.

“Uh” Jungkook gulped, “Interesting.”

“What? What is it?”

Jungkook looked at you, almost as though he were debating what to say next. “Y/n, do you really love him?”

“We’re getting there” He raised his eyebrows, “I mean, we—are making progress”

Jungkook read between your words. Shutting his laptop, he sighed. “Nevermind”

“Jungkook—what the fuck did it say?”

“Jimin isn’t listed as your soulmate. You don’t have anyone listed”

Your throat felt dry. “What?”

“You were in the placebo cohort”

You stared at him. The placebo cohort. Meaning—what?

“I’m sorry, Y/n”

“No there’s some other explanation” You shook your head, “Jimin and I had a rough start but. He’s kind. Dedicated. He’s had a rough go of it—I don’t know his story but I can just tell. He’s insightful, and isn’t afraid to challenge me. He understands me too, even in this short time. He’s sweet. And he wants me just as bad as I want him”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Jungkook looked appalled, “You’re delusional, Y/n. He said he didn’t want you, explicitly. He’s lied to you many times,”

“The chip doesn’t alter our emotions, it only gives us the signal. I know what I feel Jungkook—it has to be him”

“Placebo cohort’s get the signal, but the compatibility test wasn’t actually run so it’s signaling that some random person you’re not actually compatible with is your soulmate. To see if the computability part actually matters, or if simply thinking someone is your soulmate is enough”

It couldn’t be. You felt nauseous, as though everything around you was spinning. Time and time again Jimin had told you to back off. That what you were feeling wasn’t real when you believed so strongly it was. Nothing about it made sense.

Suddenly Jimin’s flaws glared at you—he was in the resistance, fighting against the very peace you upheld. He was a violent person. He hung out with shady people in banned places. He broke rules which you followed no matter what. He smoked. He rode a motorcycle. He didn’t believe you were his soulmate—and you weren’t.

But you loved him.

And he, probably, loved you too.

Was the placebo effect real then? Did you fall in love just because you thought you were supposed to? If you never had the signal—never had the chip—would you have been able to look past your differences, and find what you did?

He had only just begun to believe. This would crush him.

“You have to tell him” Jungkook echoed your thoughts. You frowned, he was clearly deriving some joy from the fact that he was right about Jimin.

“Does this mean someone else out there is actually my soulmate? More compatible with me than Jimin?”

“Most likely” Jungkook confirmed, “Only way to know is to reset your chip. And only Dr. Kim himself can do that”

You turned to your calendar. The conference was only a few days away. What were you supposed to tell Jimin in the meanwhile? Should you avoid seeing him? Should you ignore this and just love him anyway?

“I-I gotta go” You scrambled to gather your things. Rushing to take a bus home, you barged into your apartment. Eyes wide as you noticed the entire place had been cleaned up. Nose twitching to the scent of something cooking—something delicious.

Jimin smiled warmly upon seeing you. You had left before he woke up, leaving him sound asleep with a kiss on the cheek.  

“Morning doctor” He continued to go about his cooking. He looked adorable, sleepy hair and shirtless, cracking eggs into a pan. You wanted to cover him with kisses, “Hope you don’t mind, just thought I’d whip up some food. Aren’t you supposed to be at the lab?”

“I, yeah I uh”

“Oh taste this” Jimin took a spoon of some sauce he had made and quickly made his way over to you. Slipping the spoon in your mouth, your eyes widened as flavor burst in your mouth.

“Jimin” You mumbled as he took the spoon out, stealing a quick kiss. “Fuck that’s so spicy Jimin”

“Not your thing, doctor?” He pouted, “Damn, I love spicy food”

Your heart dropped. He’s not your soulmate. You’re not compatible.

He seemed to notice your unusual behavior.

“Hey baby, it’s okay. It’s just food preferences, not the end of the world”

“Jimin, we’re” You cleared your throat. “We’re not—”

“Oh, are you upset that I’m still here? Don’t worry I have class in the afternoon, I’ll be out of your way” Grabbing your hands he pulled you into a hug. Swaying your body left to right, you wanted to melt.

“Jimin” Your voice was breaking. Tears welling in your eyes.

“I know we don’t have everything figured out baby” He hummed against you. Pressing his lips on top of your head, “But for once, I think, I believe it’ll work out”

You broke.

Shattered into tears. You couldn’t possibly do this to him, not after everything you already put him through. How the hell were you supposed to tell the man you’d chased relentlessly that you weren’t supposed to be together?

“Baby,” Jimin held your face in his hands, searching with concern “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t breathe. Sobs blocking your air. Chest tight.

“Hey, easy baby” Jimin held your hand, guiding you to sit down on your bed. He knelt down by your side. Pressing his lips onto your knuckles. Across your wrist.

The odds were unlikely. But there was a slim chance that despite being a placebo match, he may actually still somehow be compatible with you. He may still be your real soulmate. You should wait until you knew for sure. 

“I’m okay, sorry I just, got emotional” You wiped your tears away, chuckling. Jimin didn’t look like he quite believed you, but decided not to push it.

“Don’t apologize, doctor” He kissed your knee, “As long as you’re okay”

“Jimin”

“Yeah baby?”

“No matter what happens,” You sniffled, “I believe in you”

Jimin chuckled, stroking your face, “Babe what has gotten into you? Did Jungkook say something—I can beat that fucker to a pulp if he did, I am a vigilante after all”

You smiled. Because the man in front of you was dazzling. Despite the fights. Despite your differences. If this wasn’t true love, you weren’t sure you wanted whatever that was. This was all you needed. He was all you needed.

Which is why you owed it to him to be honest.

“We’re not actually soulmates”

Jimin simply blinked.

“It was a placebo, where the chip signals but we aren’t actually compatible. So the basis for everything we felt—or everything we think we feel, was a lie”

Silence. So haunting and so obscenely loud, you weren’t sure you’d survive it.

series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

a/n: HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3 i tried lmao, but plsssssss let me know what you think ive never written anything like this and wanna know what your reactions are!!! ask questions, give me your theories, any and all of it! <3 have a wonderful day cuties~

[shadowkoo]

The Taste of Sin

→ Summary: Following his sister's passing, Taehyung faced a daunting battle within himself, one where he eventually succumbed to the enveloping shadows that gripped his soul. Your task is to free him from the clutches of the black magic that now consumes him. The only problem? He doesn't want to be saved.

↠ taehyung x f.reader | 6.7k words | 18+ ↠ genre: angst, strangers to lovers, smut, black magic au, warlock/witch au

→ Warnings: Read at your own risk! Includes scenes of abduction/kidnapping, minor and major character death & dead bodies, murder, stabbing, knives and other weapons, blood, rituals and witchcraft (duh), slight torture / exorcism-like behavior? idk how else to describe it askldjf;skljdl, illusions to scars, burning skin, unprotected sex, explicit sex, angry sex, fingering, choking, oral (female receiving), teasing, begging, rough kissing, magical fucking? (we’re making that a thing lol), deep dicking, creampie

→ Author note: Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. If you would prefer to bookmark and read it later on AO3, you can find it crossposted here.

Long ago, every instance of magic served a positive purpose. According to the tale, the cosmos gave rise to two mighty entities, Kai and Nyx, after many years of stagnant magic. For magic had been around for centuries by this point, but no one truly had mastered it.

When the culling eliminated many witches and warlocks, the magical line of descendants began to diminish. Kai and Nyx would become the light that the survivors could look to for guidance and protection.

They grew in unison, fostering and educating their apprentices about the complete potential magic can provide and how to harness their talents. Nyx was beloved by the people, and Kai’s gifts were powerful enough to keep them safe from those who dared to harm them.

Over time, Kai's feelings of resentment towards Nyx and his responsibility to safeguard only grew. He yearned to be worshipped. The affection that was once mutual turned into malice, and a sinister shadow wrapped around his soul. It tickled his spine, twisting around through his veins, until he let it take over and embraced the darkness within.

That was the day Black Magic was born.

In the present day, those who are gifted with magical powers are either deemed Sacred or Sinful once they’ve matured. It’s common knowledge that all witches and warlocks are originally born Sacred. Evil isn't born. We know that to be true. It's a learned behavior, created over time. However, the path someone follows in life can change everything.

It's not a matter of what side a witch chooses, but what side chooses them. And unfortunately, it's not as simple as good versus evil, light versus dark, or right versus wrong. 

It boils down to a witch's determination to defend themselves and the length their loved ones will go to in order to resurrect the person they once knew.

But black magic doesn't discriminate. It shows no concern for your family lineage, your economic status, or your future aspirations.

It's patient. 

It bides its time until your vulnerability allows you to embrace even the slightest taste before it creeps into your soul, waiting until you make the choice to devour it completely. 

At that point, you can no longer tell where the darkness ends, and a witch begins. They are now one.

So when the Kim family unexpectedly lost their sweet boy to the Sinful, they knew it would be nearly impossible to get him back.

The only way his soul can be saved is by someone who is accustomed to the taste of black magic helping to remind him of who he truly is.

"This is a photo we took on his eighteenth birthday. That was five years ago. We didn’t know it would be the last photo we would ever take of him..." Mrs. Kim hands you the photo and sniffles, a sign that she’s attempting to keep her composure.

'Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.’ you repeat to yourself. For being upper-class witches, they sure are some of the more sensitive ones. You can tell that they truly care for their estranged son.

Deep down you know that they have all the right reasons to feel this way, but your lack of certain emotions, specifically sympathy, makes it a little difficult for you to feel compassion in moments like this.

Ever since you were rescued from the darkness you've had a hard time understanding emotions and sensitivities. You don’t like either. They make you vulnerable, and vulnerability is dangerous for someone like you.

You are an exception to the rule, neither completely Sacred or Sinful. You’re a part of the Saved; a group of witches that have been brought back from the Sinful. Of course, you can never get rid of the darkness completely. It lingers in your blood, but you’ve learned to control it.

"So do you know what happened that allowed him to let the darkness in? I know that your family is one of the stronger bloodlines, so it couldn’t have been that his powers were limited. And he's not a half-blood either?"

Mr. and Mrs. Kim share a look, debating if they should disclose the reason to you.

"You're right. He was strong up until his sister died. He abandoned his powers and lost interest. We would have to plead for him to do anything remotely related to magic, and even then he put up a fight."

'That would do it. An emotional, grieving warlock that refused to use his powers would be an easy target.'

You rest your hand on Mrs. Kim's in an attempt to console her. "You know this is going to be difficult, right? He's been gone for so long. Are you sure your son is still in there?"

"I know he is. He has to be," she urges, her eyes begging for you to help them.

"Okay..." you say softly, "Were you able to track him? Where was he last?"

"On the east side of the city. We used a spell to pinpoint his exact location, and he was spotted three days ago on camera outside of this mini-mart." Mr. Kim hands you the blurry image. 

"Well, it looks like I’ve got some work to do. I’ll keep you two updated."

Taehyung gazes at the street lamps' reflection on the wet pavement. Unaware of the earlier rain, he stares at the puddles left in the wake of the storm.

His daze breaks as he catches the familiar sound of a woman's heels approaching. He closes his eyes, envisioning the woman within the shadows of his mind.

'She'll work,' he decides, watching her walk quickly in his general direction. Astral Vision is just one of the perks of turning dark. 

He waits until she’s closer, then conceals his body before she can see him lingering in the shadows outside of the bar. The spell took less than a second to manifest, and then he grabs her. One hand over her mouth and the other pushing her towards his car.

The woman is terrified, rightfully so, and Taehyung feeds on her fear. Her pale face, wide eyes, and fast pulse excite him.

He would have preferred to keep her lucid, but she wouldn’t stop screaming. Her high-pitched shrieks still echo in his ears. Thankfully, the sleeping spell he casts knocks her out, making the car ride enjoyable for the most part. 

If only there was a spell that silenced the constant whispering in his ear…

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at his place. This part of the city was known for being the center of the dark arts, so when the woman's body trails behind him in the air, no one questions it because everyone is used to seeing some fucked up shit. Hell, last week someone set a captured spirit loose and kept walking through the walls of the old apartment building.

As they enter the dark lair, Taehyung waves his hand around and his magic carries the woman’s body to the worship room and gently lays her down on the makeshift altar table.

At the snap of his fingers, she wakes and frantically glances around at her new surroundings. A fireplace full of black flames, candlesticks everywhere she looks, pentagons and other unrecognizable sigils painted across the walls, and a mysterious man walking toward her with a devilish smile.

"Blood is old. Blood is powerful. Blood is exactly what the darkness wants." He starts chanting, making his way around her body, circling her.

"No, please!" The woman yells as she struggles against the restraints that suddenly appear from thin air. "Please. I beg you," she cries, "I have a child. She's two. *Please!*" The woman continues to sob as he lifts the knife in the air

"Shut up. This will go by faster if you just shut the hell up."

It wouldn’t matter if she was pleading as if her life depended on it. In this case, it did, but that’s irrelevant. Nor does the look in her eyes when she realizes she was going to die tonight. 

Taehyung doesn’t care. He just wants the whispering to end, and the only way to make that happen is to do what it told him.

So he did.

You listen quietly as Taehyung completes his incantation, completely drawn in by the way he handles his power. The unlit candles that fill his room all ignite when he finishes, signaling that your cover is close to being blown now that you’re no longer hidden from plain sight.

The girl notices your figure and wails out when your eyes manage to lock. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she saw you already, you weren't sure when, or how, you were going to make your presence known. 

That's how easily the darkness can get to you. You didn’t even realize when it had you paralyzed in time. And if a witch isn't aware at all times, they have a higher chance of being taken over.

"Please save me! I see you, help me!" Her shrill voice pierces through the empty room. You duck by a bookshelf and wait to see if he spots you too. 

Taehyung pauses to glance around; he doesn’t sense anyone so he closes his eyes and continues with his plan.

When you step out of the shadows she repeats herself, begging to be let go, begging for you to help her. 

You take another step closer, moving slowly while racking your brain for how you’re going to get her out of here when suddenly the dark flames quit dancing in the fireplace. Every candle in the room turns toward you and the room becomes too quiet.

Someone taps on your shoulder. Startled, you turn your head to find no one there. And when you move to face the woman again, a tall figure stands in your way.

"Who the hell are you?" Taehyung demands, a mere few inches from your position.

If you weren’t slightly concerned about what he was going to do to you next, you probably would have laughed out loud. That blade is pointless. You both know that he can do a lot more damage with his powers now that the darkness is on his side. 

Speaking of which, his other hand twists at his side and you guess he’s trying to inflict pain on you somehow.

You know this must be true when he frowns, clearly confused as to why you aren’t on the floor in crippling agony.

"Oh, yeah. That doesn't work on me babe, clearly not human." You admit rather smugly. His demeanor tenses as you close in on him. "You should really put the knife down. You don't want to accidentally hurt her, do you?"

"That's exactly what I want to do," he hisses, using his magic to send his knife flying through the air and into her chest before you can even process what’s happening. 

The second the blade touches blood, every candle in the room is extinguished.

You somehow manage to hold in your surprised gasp, despite not being ready for that.

This job isn’t for everyone. You’ve witnessed a lot of death in your short time as Saver. If it wasn’t for the good pay and the sense of accomplishment, (not to mention the high probability of making Nyx proud) there was no way in hell you would willingly put yourself in this traumatic position.

That's what you remind yourself of anyway. Especially since it’s hard finding anything else with your label. Damn witch society and their stupid social standings for making everyone believe that a Saved witch is any less of value than a Sacred one.

It’s been a while since your last assignment, and after how badly that one had ended, you’ve been contemplating if it was a mistake to come so soon - just like your coworkers had presumed. 

You brush those thoughts aside and remember why you’re here, to save.

"Did you have to kill her? Was that really necessary?" you prod.

"Yeah, it gets them off my back," he huffs, "What do you want?" He peers at you, trying to figure you out.

One ‘perk’, for lack of a better word, of being one of the Saved is that when a Sinful reads you, they catch onto the lingering darkness and assume you're one of them. It makes it easier for them to trust you, which inherently makes your job easier.

"Need a place to crash for a week or two. I sensed you from outside. Thought it was safe here since we're the same and all that." You had rehearsed this part, knowing you would need a valid excuse to get close to him. And it was normal, the Sinful did usually group together. Everyone is stronger in numbers.

"Does this look like a boarding house to you? Get the fuck out." He turns back to the dead woman's body and catches her blood in a vessel filled with ash and other unrecognizable ingredients.

"What kind of ritual is this?" You ask, ignoring his demand and following him around the room as he throws other components into the blood pool. "Looks very...ancient?" It looks disgusting if you’re being completely honest, but you have to play along. "Need help?"

"Why aren't you leaving?" He questions. "Did I not make myself clear? Get. Out."

"What if we make a deal," you suggest, starting your plan. "I'll clean up your messes and stay out of your way and you let me stay here. I'm a newbie, if you can't tell. So far I'm really enjoying how much I don't care. I can do whatever and go wherever I want. Well actually I can't, I think I'm being hunted-" Your rambling trick works and he interrupts you, clearly irritated. and doing whatever he can to shut you up.

Taehyung rubs a hand over his face when he realizes he can't get rid of you, "Okay! Okay, I really don't give a shit. Stay here then. Whatever. Just stop talking. Fuck."

It’s rather easy getting him to cave, but in retrospect, that's not a good thing. It just proves how far gone he is. For example, who doesn't care if a random person - specifically a person who broke into their home - stays with them for an uncertain amount of time? He just doesn't care. And that's scary.

He walks towards the door, the vessel still in hand, and turns to you to say, "I'll be back later. Take care of the body."

Lovely.

3:00 AM

There’s a reason why this time of night is called the witching hour. That's when witches and warlocks are the most powerful. 

So here you are, cross-legged and floating above the floor, getting ready to do something rather invasive, but effective. You aren’t sure if there’s a specific name for what you’re doing, but you’re basically putting yourself into Taehyung’s dreaming mind to pull the memories out of their hiding spots.

When the darkness takes over, it pushes everything aside and fills your mind with disturbing thoughts instead of your own, and it does this so quickly that you forget almost everything about yourself in a matter of minutes.

It’s also tricky because you aren’t able to detect what the memories are until after having drug them out from the deepest pockets of his mind. You have a 50/50 chance of this working in your favor, and you really need it to.

Being inside someone's dream is like being underwater. You don't move as fast as you usually do, and everything's a little fuzzy to look at. Thankfully Taehyung is smart enough to have his memories boxed away, so it isn’t hard to find them. You reach for the nearest one to you, then proceed to open the lid.

The first memory that you pull is one from Taehyung's childhood. You watch his family run around the beach, laughing and splashing around in the salty ocean water.

You reach for another, and suddenly it's autumn. Older Taehyung and his younger sister are kicking the leaves around in the park. A crisp breeze carries the leaves away in the wind while they play.

The next memory leaves you chilled. Taehyung is driving through a snowstorm on his way home after picking his sister up from school. He didn't want her to drive in this weather. You watch in horror as a deer runs out in front of them. He swerves and the car spins on the icy road before rolling several times. They're knocked out for a while, and when Taehyung finally comes to he notices that she's no longer next to him, and there's a giant hole in the windshield.

You return to your body, which is covered in a cold sweat. 'What a terrible way to watch a loved one die. No wonder he let the darkness in.'

You’re ready for your next plan of attack the following morning when Taehyung finds you in the kitchen. His face twists when he notices your bowl, he’s not-so-secretly judging your choice of food.

"What? A witch has to eat." You say, defending the sugary cereal. "Plus, it was in your cabinet. You bought it."

"Didn't buy it. Also not my house, I'm just ahhh - renting it for the time being." He grins, obviously satisfied with his response.

'He's in a rather decent mood. Especially compared to yesterday. Does that mean the memories worked? There's only one way to find out...'

"So," you start, even though you know Taehyung isn’t paying attention to you, "How did you sleep?"

"I relived my sister's death last night." 'Yeah. That one's on me. My bad.' "But I also dreamed about this breakfast cafe near my favorite park that my family used to eat at every time we came to the city."

Your eyes grew in size when you realize that he remembered a memory all on his own. This is really good. Really, really good.

Taehyung wakes up feeling different, but he can’t place how. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t hear whispering, and he can’t help but wonder if you have something to do with that.

'It must be', he decides. 'You, for whatever reason, keep the whispering at bay.'

And then it clicks. You're one of them. And he doesn't know what to do about it.

You're here to fix him. But he doesn't want to change. To go back to a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as a warlock can have.

He sits up in bed and opens his palm. The smallest flame appears and he watches it dance in his gloomy room. He doesn’t want to miss this. Without black magic, Taehyung is nothing but a weak man, incapable of protecting the people he cares about.

He plays it off when he sees you in the kitchen, choosing to talk about his dreams last night, and watches your face light up when he threw in that last one.

"Do you want to visit that place today? It sounds like it's nice," You suggest before getting up to put your empty dish in the sink.

Taehyung's face drops, he’s right. You’re one of the Saved.

"You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? It's too bad that place doesn't exist," he hisses before driving you backward. Your head bounces off the wall and he doesn’t hesitate to push the knife he had hidden earlier against your windpipe.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I know what you are," he seethes. His rage deepens as his face lowered to yours. His eyes burn into yours, "You're Saved. And now you're trying to save me. Correct?"

You swallow slowly and nod. This is a serious situation. At any point, Taehyung could snap. Then who would save him?

Both of you proceed to look at each other, waiting for the other to do something stupid. He presses the knife further into your skin, fighting with himself to end your life. But he can’t, for some reason, he’s intrigued and wonders ‘What if?’

"Fuck it," he breathes, having made up his mind, and closes the gap between you. His lips move against yours in a fight for power. The forgotten knife drops to the floor and his arms move to hold you tightly between his body and the wall.

You’re in shock. This isn’t supposed to happen. Definitely not a part of your plan. You don't sleep with the people you're supposed to save; you're pretty sure there's a rule against that somewhere. But strangely enough, you aren’t complaining. He’s a good kisser.

'This really shouldn't be happening.'

No matter how wrong it may be, you let things continue. He has you shoved up against the wall, his lips covering yours. 

Taehyung’s magic massages along the sides of your body, before joining in the middle and going right for your center.

He knows exactly what you want before you do, touching the right places, and bringing goosebumps to your skin's surface with every motion.

He’s addictive - whether it’s because of the taste of sin on his skin or the taste of the black magic vibrating through his veins - you can’t get enough of it.

Practically every nerve in your body is on fire and you haven't even gotten to the fun part yet.

You moan when the pressure between your legs grows, and bite your lip in an attempt to keep them in.

"You should be running in the opposite direction right about now," he purrs before leaning to drag his tongue along your neck.

"Oh please, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want." You pant. 

"And what do you want?" he questions with a sly smirk.

"You." 'And to save you.'

He doesn’t hesitate to tear your clothes off before removing his own.

"Please," you beg, needing to be touched by him. Your insides ache for more of him.

He brings a hand up and closes it around your neck, "No talking. Got it?"

You nod again, secretly enjoying the slight pressure and the tingling feeling the lack of oxygen creates.

He lifts one of your legs and you wrap it around his waist, opening yourself up for him. His fingers sink into your heat, moving at a pace you can’t keep up with, preparing you for what’s to come next.

Another moan leaves your swollen lips as he pushes into you without hesitation. Your back arches involuntarily and you squeeze your eyes shut at the amount of intense pleasure running through your body. 

Taehyung holds firmly onto your sides and he pounds into you relentlessly. His deep thrusts have you close to seeing stars. The magic he’s using simultaneously leaves behind sensuous, shadowy caresses upon your skin as he takes you to another dimension.

“Fuck,” he growls before placing lingering wet kisses along your neck. You marvel at how he stretches your insides out in the most delicious way.

“Don't stop. Keep going,” you choke out, unable to stay silent any longer, “Please keep going, oh god!” You’re so close to the edge. A few hard thrusts later and you’re shaking as the coil deep inside you snaps, sending waves of white heat throughout your body.

You whimper when he continues to pound into you, his release not far off. Taehyung moans one last time before releasing into you, and your convulsing walls suck in his warm seed.

You shudder when he slowly pulls out of you and dropped to his knees. A small gasp slips out when his parted lips meet your center. Your fingers grasp onto his hair as his tongue dove deep into you.

Taehyung indulges himself in your sweet taste. For whatever reason, he can’t get enough of you. It isn’t until you’re pleading for him to give you a break that he releases your already sensitive nub.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and once he has he stands back up. Both of your chests are moving at the same pace as you look into each other's eyes, almost asking, what now?

"Okay. Well, um, I'm gonna shower... I'll see you later?" Fuck, you don’t know how to talk to him after that. Are you supposed to thank him for the best sex of your entire life? Do you just quit your job and run away?

Taehyung, on the other hand, is in awe. He isn’t sure what kind of spell you have over him but he’s already craving more.

He doesn’t care enough to argue about the fact that you lied to him. Not after that. 

Plus, sex is sex. If he has to put up with your annoying habits and attempts to 'save him' for a while longer for good sex then he will. Simple as that.

With his decision made, he accompanies you into the bathroom. "I hope you're ready for round two."

Honestly, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been with Taehyung. The days tend to blend together, particularly due to your inconsistent sleeping schedule.

You still have your mission in mind, but it isn’t something you desire to finish right away. The small sliver of darkness inside of you rejoices when you push your duties aside.

The second Taehyung becomes Saved and is returned to his family, you have to say goodbye. And that's something that you aren't prepared for. You know now that your heart has gotten involved, which is a dangerous game to play.

This is exactly why they say to never mix business with pleasure. It makes such a mess of things.

Taehyung keeps you in bed for most of the day, for reasons most can assume, and your exhausted body isn’t tired of this routine just yet. Habit has it that you usually fall asleep, phone in hand. So it’s no surprise that when you awoke to it vibrating you already knew what to expect.

After rubbing the sleep from your tired eyes, you squint at the bright screen in an attempt to read what it says.

Unknown Caller

Your heart sinks, and you crawl out of bed. 'This isn't going to be good.' You hurry to make it out of the bedroom before answering.

"Hey, Taemin-"

"It shouldn't be taking you this long to track a Sinful." Your supervisor interrupts, "What the hell is going on? Are we losing you?"

"Nothing's going on, I swear. I tracked him at first but then things got complicated. I even managed to break into his place." Your excuse is half-true. "I’ll keep you updated on my progress-"

"It’s been over a month. You have 48 hours to bring him in, or we're giving the case to Dino. My advice is to get the Sinful bastard on a leash and *bring him in.*" He hangs up on you and his words echo in your mind. 48 hours. 48 hours until someone else is taking him from you.

"Who was that?" Taehyung asks with a scratchy voice when you crawl back into bed.

"Wrong number. Go back to sleep," you whisper. You wait for his breathing to even out and take the risk of projecting into his mind once again. It’s dangerous to flood him with so many memories this fast but you don’t have a choice. You pluck memory after memory out of those damn boxes, hoping that it’s enough to make him come back. You’re running out of time.

The following morning, you realize just how dangerous it can be. Taehyung is in a sour mood from the second he wakes.

"Why can't you just stay out of my mind for one night!" he hollers, climbing out of bed and trying to get away from you as fast as possible. "I know you were in there. Why do you have to remind me of her." His voice cracks and it pains you to see how much he’s hurting.

You can’t stop though. Even though he’s in pain, he’s still feeling, and he needs to feel to get better. “Because your memories are important-”

"Stay out of my fucking head!" He rages, cutting you off and disappearing before you can say anything else.

It's now been several hours since you saw him last. Maybe you were pushing him too hard and the darkness realized that it's being forced out. They call it a flare-up; it’s like the last straw. The darkness will do anything to stay in its host, even if that means harming them.

Once Taehyung returns, you try not to panic when you see the bruises all over his body. Not normal purple-blue bruises, but deep green and black ones. Serious ones. Especially for a warlock. These kinds of bruises are caused by magic. Strong magic. Typically black magic.

"Oh my god, what happened?" You rush to him the second he steps in the door. He’s shirtless, hands all bloody, and covered in those god-awful bruises.

"I don't- I don't know. Blood everywhere. The bodies. I don't know."

Your hands rest over his and you close your eyes, focusing on retracing his steps with your gifts.

You’re transported to an alley, where you watch as Taehyung attacked a mob of the Sinful. You wince when he snaps the first man’s neck and then consumes the darkness seeping out of the slumped body. He claims the additional power for himself, as he does with the rest of the people that you see left lying around.

You pull yourself back to the present and look at Taehyung. With more black magic running through his veins, heat radiates from his body and his muscles tense, hoping to be used in another battle shortly.

"Taehyung, I know it hurts to remember and feel these emotions but I really need you to keep them. Don't let the darkness take them away. Please, Taehyung. It's important." His eyes meet yours and you can see the fight he’s putting up from the inside.

"I'm trying. I really am."

Your fingers trail down his cheek, "I know. I know how hard it is, and I know how strong you are. You can do this."

"I can't." Tears stream down his face, "I'm nothing without it, I'm weak. I have to let it in again. I need it."

His entire demeanor changes after saying those words, not realizing the weight that they carry. He’s so close, and now it’s back. He’s rid of the darkness for just a few short minutes and he’s so broken. There’s no way you can save him all on your own.

"You," He says, his voice deepening to something sinister, "Don't you know when to give up? Haven't you realized he doesn't want you to save him?"

"He wants to be saved. You just won't let him go. I'll get him back, and I'll get you out for good," you spit out.

"It's been too long, he's never coming back," the voice gloats, although the darkness that spills through his lips doesn’t match his eyes. "How pathetic it is that you have feelings for this weak warlock. Don't you know that he will never be the same? He won't love you. He doesn't even know what love is. Stupid girl."

"That's a lie." You remind yourself that this isn’t Taehyung talking. This was the darkness. “He’s capable and worthy of so much love, unlike you.”

Even though you know better, there’s a small part of you that’s scared it’s true. 'What if it’s impossible for him to love? Even after he comes back?'

Taehyung can’t help it. He really tried. But it’s just too strong of a fight for him. He doesn’t have the energy.

And you don’t have time to waste. Grabbing onto his head, you stare into his eyes, "I'll get you out of there, I promise." He tries to pry your hands off but you hold on strong. "I promise, Taehyung. Please hold on just a little longer."

You hate to leave him, especially after a momentary breakthrough, but you need help. So you dial the one person you know you can depend on.

"Hey Dino, how fast can you and the others get here?"

It's been different since you've left.

Taehyung doesn't understand why he feels this way, or why he feels at all. He doesn't care, at least that's what he's telling himself to get through the past couple of days. Although he can't help but wonder why you left, and if you’ll ever come back.

It’s thoughts like these that have him so distracted, that's why he doesn’t sense them. That's why they’re able to capture him. Once again, Taehyung is nothing but a weak warlock - even with black magic on his side this time.

Whoever it is, they’re strong enough to cast a sight spell. He can’t see anything. He doesn’t know where he’s being taken.

When they finally release the spell, he's confused by his surroundings. He was almost expecting to see more Sinful wanting to suck the rest of his powers out for their own benefit this time.

To his genuine surprise, it's you.

You and a crowd. All Saved witches and warlocks. Even though he knows what's coming, he's terrified. Not many make it through this part.

"I know you're smart, so I don't need to explain to you that this is going to hurt like a bitch. But I need you to hold on. The darkness is going to want you to give up, and I swear to god Taehyung, if you let that happen I will kill you. You need to hold on."

The group circles around his body and began chanting the spell while you prepared to do the worst part. You refuse to let anyone else do this. 

It’s horrific, to say the least. No one enjoys burning protective sigils into another person's skin, especially when that person is someone you love. You know better than to look at his face when you do this, but his screams remind you of how terrible it hurts, and the scars on your arms ache having been in this exact position. The smell of melting flesh is enough to make you sick to your stomach, let alone the combination of all of these things.

Hell is nothing compared to what a witch goes through to be Saved. The rush of everything that you have done but technically didn't do, the people you murdered, the emotions and memories that come flooding in. It's a lot to be overwhelmed with. And sadly, not everyone can handle it. 

You pray to Nyx that Taehyung is capable to make it through this.

'I'm okay, keep going.'

Raising your gaze to him as his voice sounds in your mind, he reassures you that this has to be done.

'Whatever happens, keep going.'

You nod, holding back tears when he lets out another blood-curdling cry.

You don't know what happened. An eerie sensation washes over you as you try to make sense of the scene in front of you. Someone screams. Who’s screaming? You don’t recognize them to be coming from you, but it has to be. The only thing you’re able to focus on is someone dragging you away from his cold, limp body.

Dino holds onto you through your endless fighting, "He's gone. We need to move. You know we're all at risk with that kind of dark power floating around, unseen."

And that’s the last time you saw Taehyung.

Life after leaving the city is hard. 

You refuse to talk to anyone about what happened, but they all have their own assumptions. Even your supervisor wants you to take more time off but you’ve been declining. Surrounding yourself with work is the only distraction capable of taking your mind off everything else.

You’ll gladly do anything but sit at home where you actually had time to think.

The assignment you recently returned from had been really underwhelming; you brought back and returned the woman to her husband in less than a day. A new record for you. All it took was a handful of wedding photos and snap - she was back. Granted, this one was only gone for a fortnight, so it was an easy job compared to... You let that thought end abruptly, refusing to say his name.

Unlocking your front door, you take a step inside and drop your bag at your feet, your magic closing and relocking it for you. 

'Something is wrong.'

You feel it, someone else’s presence. You have no idea how or why - but someone is in the next room over. Your magic can sense theirs.

Nobody knows where you live, not even the other Saved witches. You need to have your safe haven in case anything ever happens. Your house is spellbound to keep the Sinful from entering. However, if a Sinful took in an absurd amount of darkness, it isn’t impossible for that to happen. And you’re terrified to find out who is waiting for you.

It isn’t common for them to hunt you down but in the rare event that it does happen, you have certain protocols to follow, or else things can get very dangerous. Scared to death, you keep your hands at bay and pull yourself mostly together before walking into the living room.

"Why are you crunched over walking like that?"

Letting out a yelp, you immediately turn to your left. “Taehyung?" Your hand rests on your beating heart. 'He's alive?'

"Before you ask, yes I'm alive, and yes it's actually me." It takes you a moment to register his words, which he completely understandable. He knows you must have been through a lot these last couple of weeks. Especially since everyone assumed he was dead.

"There's no way... It’s not possible. Dino checked before we left, you were dead. I don't know how you are here right now." 

'You're hallucinating. That's the only realistic answer. You're going crazy and imagining all of this. There is no way Taehyung was alive this whole time. You would have known.'

"Well, apparently he didn't do his job very well because here I am," he chuckles. This is so not the time for chuckling and happy reunions.

You know it’s cliche to do so, but you really just had to poke him in the chest to check. Magic-wise, you can tell he’s alive. You can also tell that he’s still a warlock again, blessed with the gifts of Nyx, but you can’t place any darkness within him.

"How is that possible?” you mumble to yourself, reading his soul again.  All Saved have a trace of darkness...but he has none.

"This might be a wild assumption, but can it be due to the fact that I died and came back? I don't think the darkness could withstand that."

"That seems logical." You’re still weirded out by this whole ordeal but that answer would work for now, at least until you brought him to the base tomorrow to be checked out. "So then why were you hiding in the corner?"

His lips curl up, "What can I say, I learned from the best."

"Okay, so then why are you here? In my house?"

"I needed to see you. I didn't believe it at first either when I first woke up. I thought maybe I turned into a ghost or something, that my spirit was trapped since I died dark. But people noticed me on the streets. And for the first time in years, only my own thoughts were in my head. No whispering." He rests a hand on your cheek, "You saved me."

“It was my job,” you blurted out, not knowing what to say. This is absurd, everything that had just happened made absolutely zero sense. 

He gives you a look, knowing better than to believe that was the only reasoning for why you pushed so hard to bring him back.

"And can I just say for my personal well-being that I never wanted to hurt myself more than the day when fake-me said that it was impossible for me to love you. You have no idea how hard I was fighting to come through and say the exact opposite."

Taehyung steps forward and pulls you against his body, "Because I do, I love you."

Your heart nearly bursts having heard him confess the truth. Raising your hands up to his head, you pull him down into your waiting kiss, where you pour love and light into one another.

While you’ve become accustomed to the taste of sin on his lips, you’ve got to admit, the taste of love is so much better.

©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[skeine]

the arch heart's conversation is hitting a little hard, because it just smacks me in the face how the relationship is such a parental one in many ways. because parents are not perfect, in many of the same ways the gods aren't.

who hasn't had a parent who found it easier to blame their child than accept their own responsibility, like the gods do when they blame the calamity on the powerless children being crushed by it instead of their own siblings committing it?

who hasn't had a parent who's been self centred sometimes, putting their own needs above their children and using their authority and influence to strip their children's agency and ability to defy them, like the gods do when they prevent their children from defending themselves against their murderers?

where's the line between actual love and care versus a self serving, performative love? a suffocating love that strangles potential and harms rather than guides and sets free? do they actually love their children? or do they love their role as parent and guardian more? and when the children want to step out from under that role, can they bring themselves to let them go?

for much of the pantheon the answer is no. because even with the deadly threat of predathos on their doorstep the gods still refuse to just... leave. to let go. they would rather stay and pull the trigger on the divine gate and start this endless cycle of violence and murder yet again, rather than give up their cherished role in their children's lives.

but the arch heart is the one of the few who's willing to step aside and set their children free. they own their fault in how things got where they are and are determined to do better this time, even if precious few of their siblings see it yet.

yes, setting up the gate was an important first step towards establishing boundaries between them and their children, but it wasn't enough. dorian and opal and cyrus are the proof of that. it was a good idea that just didn't go far enough.

to bring this back to the parent analogy, it can be hard sometimes for people to accept that their parents have harmed them in fundamental ways because they want to believe the best of their parents, because they love them, because they've done so much for them. how can they not be grateful?

but the reality is that parents are flawed and human too, and make mistakes, which can sometimes be incredibly damaging for those under their care. and it's the children's responsibility to eventually take control of their own lives and set boundaries, to do what's right for themselves. and if the parent won't do what's right and step away voluntarily and stop the harm, then the child needs to make them do it, for the child's own good.

and for exandria and the bells hells, the power gap between humankind and gods is so extreme that they just simply don't have many choices in how or where to draw that line. the only options available to them are messy and difficult and not the way anyone would ever have wanted it to go. a little like families in real life can be sometimes.

i love matt for giving us such a great and complicated and messy story. it's fascinating as hell and fantastic to see it being written in front of our eyes. love it to bits.

[notsoattractivearenti]

My Player of The Month (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

WC: 900+

Warning/Tags: fluff

A/N: hellooooo i'm back for a bit!!! pls consider this as a way to say sorry i haven't finished my holiday fics lol. i had a lot of free time at work today and before i knew it i'd written a fic on the paper – full page front and half on the back! btw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors since it's not proofread! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (Y/F/N = Your Full Name)

—

Christian was just announced as December's Serie A Player of The Month, and after the  home match versus AS Roma, he was pulled to the side of the pitch for a post-match interview. The reporter who interviewed him started with congratulating him for the award then asked him a few questions. One of the questions was what inspired him to do very well on the pitch, especially last month – since he got the POTM title – and before he revealed his inspiration, he looked at Y/N, who was standing a little further on the side, and bit his lip for a short while before his lips formed a wide grin he thought was unnoticeable.

“Umm… My life partner, Y/N. They really motivated me and will always do in the best ways they can and so, whenever I do well on the pitch, they will always get all the credits.” Christian proudly answered.

“I’m better as a player on the pitch and a person off the pitch because of them.” He added without letting Y/N leave his sight.

Y/N heard what Christian said and immediately blushed, then shyly waved their hand off their face trying to deny his ‘claim’. Christian noticed them and giggled.

“Look at them,” as he shamelessly pointed at embarrassed Y/N, “they’re trying to deny it but they know I said nothing but facts!” He laughed. “They get me going, always.”

The reporter let out an “Awww!” so loudly because he was loving the admiration Christian has towards Y/N – not only that, the genuine supportiveness between Y/N and Christian felt like one of a kind, like the world truly revolves around them.

“It feels like it’s Christian Pulisic and Y/F/N’s world and we’re all just living in it!” The reporter laughed.

He then offered to bring Y/N in to join the interview. “Would you bring them here to talk with us?” 

Usually, Y/N and Christian don’t really like to show their relationship off and try to do less PDA (public display of affection) just because they both prefer to keep things between themselves. But this time, Christian decided to show Y/N to the world, so he agreed to bring them in and called Y/N by whistling at them, then signaled Y/N to come join the interview with his hands. Y/N refused at first, so Christian excused himself and came towards them to pick them up himself.

“Come on baby, don’t need to be shy.” He gently whispered while stroking Y/N's shoulder to calm and convince them.

Y/N was nervous because they were not used to being in front of a camera, but at the time, suddenly Y/N felt a change of heart and could no longer refuse Christian.

“Uh… Alright, lead the way…” Y/N reluctantly agreed.

Christian grabbed Y/N’s hand and took them back to the interview spot.

Once Y/N got there and stood in front of the camera, the reporter excitedly greeted them. They weren’t comfortable at first, but with one of Christian’s hands holding theirs and the other hand gently stroking their upper arm, they felt more at ease.

“So, Y/N, how do you feel with Christian winning December’s Player of the Month and credited you as his biggest inspiration?” The reporter asked Y/N.

“Well, I wouldn’t take the credit because I know this guy has worked his butt off the entire time since he joined the club,” they stated, “so all I can say is that with his own hard work and determination that I have the privilege to witness, he’s purely earned the ‘Player of the Month’ title on his own.”

This time, Christian was the one who was blushing like crazy – he was utterly unaware and completely speechless!

“How proud can you say you are of him?” The reporter threw another question at Y/N.

“Oh, proud is an understatement!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I think at this point he is sick of hearing how proud I am of him.” Y/N laughed as they playfully pinched Christian’s cheek .

“But I will never get tired of saying it and will always mean every word.” Y/N continued as they gazed into his eyes.

Everyone who was watching could tell how swoon Christian was – his face couldn’t hide anything at this point.

“See? I do have the best partner in life.” Christian added a little comment as he kissed Y/N’s forehead.

“Oh I can feel my heart melting!” The reporter commented before he closed the interview. “Congratulations once again, Christian, and have a wonderful time celebrating you two!” 

“Thanks for having us!” Christian said while he shook the reporter’s hand before leaving the pitch with you.

As you both walked out the pitch, he whispered at you, “What an answer you had, baby…”

“I know right!? And I don’t even need any media training!” Y/N replied as they jokingly stuck their tongue out at Christian.

“Yeah okay, no need to brag…” Christian shook his head while his hand caressed the top of Y/N’s head.

“By the way, I’ll never get tired of hearing how much you’re proud of me.” He added.

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “because to me, you will always be my player of the month.”

Christian smiled, then leaned in to give a quick yet loving kiss on Y/N’s lips.

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @brasiliangp @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Honey Cut by Sierra Simone

5/5. Releases 6/18/24.

vibes: WEAPONIZED LONGING, the perfect angst recipe, the man Lana Del Rey was singing about but much better, We Can't Discuss Our Feelings Because My Feelings Are Hard

Heat Index: 10/10

Isolde Laurence is in a bind (literally, at points). She's about to marry Mark Trevena (the cold, dangerous man who deflowered her and promptly crushed her heart) in an arrangement that will enable her to seduce him and offer his secrets to her uncle, a high-ranking cardinal. However, on her way to do so, she's fallen in love with Mark's romantic, pining bodyguard Tristan. And Tristan--who very much loves her back--is also in love with Mark, thanks to a preexisting whirlwind affair he put a stop to upon finding out about the engagement. Isolde is determined to, if nothing else, guard her heart against her new husband. And, for personal and practical reasons, honor the agreement they made years ago: once they exchange vows, they'll be faithful to each other.

Easier said than done.

But Isolde herself is deadlier than she seems, and in the midst of a thorny triangle, she may end up crushing not only Tristan's heart, but her own... and maybe even Mark's. If he has one.

Well, this was my most-anticipated release of the year, and BY GOD did it live up to expectations. This is an ongoing series (you must read Salt Kiss before starting this one, and in my opinion? You should ABSOLUTELY also read the prequel novella, Salt in the Wound, as it lays the groundwork for Mark and Isolde's relationship) and of course, I don't want to count chickens before they hatch, but... If Sierra pulls the ending off--which I totally believe she will; she's yet to let me down--this could end up being her best series yet. And that is a LOT coming from me, someone who worships at the altar of New Camelot (and Thornchapel, for that matter).

The thing about the way Sierra writes triads--and nobody does it better--is that they all feel unique. You might think that Mark, Isolde, and Tristan would have a lot in common with New Camelot's Ash, Greer, and Embry. They're MMF, they're based on Arthurian myth, these people literally know each other (Sierra: I owe you my life for that cameo). But the dynamic is completely different--and in this installment especially, quite darker. I didn't see Mark's darkness as much in Salt Kiss (Salt in the Wound... perhaps more so, which gives you some insight into the differences between his individual dynamics with Isolde versus Tristan) but here? Um. She portrayed the conflict within him and his ruthlessness perfectly... While also letting us even further into the vulnerability she hinted at in Salt Kiss.

Mark can be a difficult character for readers to humanize, I think, because we haven't had his POV yet. It's easy to sort of dismiss him as this frosty, stern alpha who doles out pain while also dealing with plenty of his own (on the inside, because Mark is clearly very uncomfortable with feeling a feeling). Where she makes it brilliant is through these moments of BOYISHNESS. We got sneak peeks of boyish Mark in Salt Kiss, but here? Oh my god. The grins, the poking at Tristan, the GOOFY HOT FACETIME SEX WITH ISOLDE??? It's so human, and dropping those sneak peeks in makes his pain even more palatable.

And the thing is that you do get that pain. Because Sierra also doesn't shy away from the agony of a love triangle and, yes, cheating in this book. I often find that MMF is used in a sort of like... "Why choose? Heehee it's all okay because everyone wants each other" get out of jail free card. Sierra really doesn't do that ever, but this is the hardest she's gone in on "these people are cheating, and it HURTS the person they're cheating on, and it HURTS them". No punches are pulled here. This is one of the angstiest books I've read, and as an angst hound, I loved every second of it.

The ending? I am going to be in actual PAIN until Bitter Burn (out early next year, SHIT). There was a moment in the last few pages of this book that made me gasp. In part because I really didn't think she'd go there on multiple levels. This is a book of huge swings, and for me, every single one worked.

Quick Takes:

--I have been very vocal about how much the one time Mark called Tristan "puppy" in a cut scene (Beg Me, which you should absolutely read if you can--I think it's on Sierra's website) has not left my head since. Guess what? It's just a regular nickname now. He says it SEVERAL times in this book, in prime moments. And I was extremely happy.

--You can for sure read this series on its own, but I will say that this book in particular "spoils" a good bit of New Camelot. In the same way that any romance in the same universe or series of standalones sort of spoils others, but if you want to read chronologically without any giveaways, you should read that series first. And in general, read it even if you do read Lyonesse first. Because it's gorgeous.

--I can't emphasize enough how happy Isolde and Mark's dirty Facetime calls made me. Like. At the end of the day, Mark is just like any other man with a hot young wife, desperately trying to get a peek over his phone. While someone else peeks, perhaps.

--Isolde's such a fantastic heroine. Broken and devoted to God and maybe lowkey a zealot, while also craving physical and emotional pain and release and Tristan's soft heart and Mark's cold one all at once. She's the kind of heroine we very rarely get to read about in romance. If I'm being honest, I was a little worried about how the dynamics would balance here, as so much of the last book was Mark and Tristan on their own, and then the remainder was Tristan and Isolde on their own. (Which is another reason why you should read Salt in the Wound first, in my opinion.) But God. The dynamic of the three, the dynamic between Mark and Isolde, just blew me away. Two black cats circling each other, Mark perhaps a little more reticent to open up to Isolde than Tristan because he recognizes something of himself in her.

While at the same time, I found that Tristan and Isolde's relationship deepened. I always fully believed in their agonized love for Mark, and their desire to stay loyal to him. Yet I also completely believed that they couldn't possibly stay away from each other, not permanently.

--Mark's backstory? I foresaw some surface level stuff, but not the parts that mattered. Those kind of blew my mind.

The Sex:

I mean, it's Sierra Simone, so it's creative and very much a part of the character development. One of the sex scenes in this book was so... it was really one of the best she's ever written. But also? DEVIOUS. Sierra, you did not have to do us like that. However, I'm glad you did.

There are so many different "flavors" of sex in this book--super kinky, kinda vanilla (or as vanilla as these people can get), happy, angsty, sad, passionate, light, funny.

You can expect, among other things: restraints, impact play, cum play, breeding, biting, public sex (a lot of that), car sex, edging, voyeurism, pain play, cum licking.......... all that shit. And more!

Look, dude. Read this book if you've read the other books. If you haven't read the other books, read those and then read this book. I can't recommend it enough. This is angsty, passionate, heady romance at its best. Hot and emotionally complex and well-written. Sierra's prose! It's what romance should be; she sets the pace, and we all must chase it.

Thanks to Candi Kane PR for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[disgruntledexplainer]

i love how physicists have picked up the "free will versus determinism" argument that Catholics and Calvinists have been having for centuries, only to end up just as bogged down as the theologians were because of the incompatibility of quantum mechanics and general relativity.