#Onyx fans we’re so back

[ellecdc]

I can’t find many fics with this…but would you maybe be willing to right poly marauders x werewolf reader?

Not in like a super angsty way. Maybe just like the morning after the full moon and Sirius and James are teasing reader and Remus because “you guys are like puppies chasing after bunnies.” Or maybe like prep for the moon and wow all the chocolate is gone it’s barely been a day.

I love this! thanks for the request, I hope I did it justice <3

poly!marauders x werewolf!reader post full-moon [836 words]

CW: fem!reader, post-moon care, werewolves being giant goofy baby dogs, James being doting, sirius being soft af [my kryptonite], Remus being stupid in love

His eyes - though obviously clear and clean of any blood, sweat, or debris - feel like they are crusted over. His chest feels like it’s being weighed down by a herd of erumpants. And his mouth tastes like acid and iron.

But the first thing from his mouth is the sound of your name as it rips through the sandpaper that's coating his throat, blindly feeling around on the bed whilst refusing to open his eyes. 

“Easy, Rem.” James whispers, and Remus can feel gentle fingers card through his hair. “She’s okay.”

“Where is she?” Remus croaks, still blindly searching for you even though it has become clear Remus won’t find you there.

“She’s right here, Moons.” He hears Sirius murmur, further from him than James is, which makes him too far away. 

Remus finally wrenches his eyes open and turns his head on his pillow, his neck cracking audibly as he finally spots the bed you’re situated in.

If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think it rather looked like Sirius was the one in the hospital wing; laying back on the bed, his head propped up comfortably on the stack of pillows meant for you whilst you were situated between his legs, your cheek smooshed up against his chest that rose and fell in time with his breathing. 

But Remus does know better.

“What’re you doing in her bed?” Remus grumbles, but the inflection is more a result of his current state and less to do with any real ire. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how sweet a picture it painted; Sirius’ onyx hair fanned out against the white of the pillow cases, the sun warming a few strands ever so slightly causing them to appear a chocolatey brown as your breathing continued in perfect rhythm. You seem so content, so secure, so loved that even whilst unconscious, you lean into them with your full trust.

“Same thing Jamie’s doing in yours.” Sirius responds breezily around a yawn, and Remus looks up to notice that James is actually perched on the head of his bed looking down at him - like he hung, well, the moon - massaging at his scalp that Remus swore saw any residual tension seeping from his body with every stroke of James’ careful fingers. 

“She okay?” Remus asks then, letting his eyes fall closed as Sirius lets out a indignant scoff. 

“‘Course she is, we’re not new here.” He sneers playfully at Remus, pulling you closer to him by the shoulders when you shift in your sleep and brushes his hand up and down your back in broad strokes; Remus is sure it feels heavenly.

“We’re fine too, by the way.” James teases as he leans down to press a kiss to Remus’ forehead. “Not like we were the ones doing all the hard work last night or anything.”

“Hard work.” Remus snorts. “I’m sorry; did your bones bend and break, and did your skin stretch and snap twice?” 

“No…” James admits, though it’s Sirius who continues the banter. 

“We were just in charge of chasing two giant, hyperactive puppies through the forest all night.”

“We’re not puppies.”

“Yes you are.” Sirius laughs, though Remus can tell - for Sirius’ part - he’s working very hard to dim his brightness in an attempt to keep you sound and not wake you. It makes Remus’ heart swell. “Dolly’s afraid of her own sodding shadow and yelped at every snapping twig, requiring plenty of reassurance, and Moony spent about twenty minutes chasing his own tail before he fell head first into a tree when he got dizzy.” 

“That’s not true, is it?” Remus whispers to James who quickly offers him an apologetic smile.

“‘Fraid so, Moons. The two of you also had what I swore was a howling contest last night, too.”

“Oh my gods.” Sirius laughs as he recalls the memory. “Moony’s voice actually cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty, and Dolly’s voice was completely hoarse by the time we convinced the two of you to knock it off.”

“She’s not going to be able to speak more than a whisper for the next foreseeable future.” James adds, looking equal parts fond, exasperated, and sympathetic for you as they watch you push your face into Sirius’ chest. 

“We’ll make her tea.” Sirius declares, his own voice but a whisper as he holds you close, eyes far away as if he’s focusing especially hard on keeping you comfortable and sleeping soundly.

“With lots of honey.” Remus agrees quietly, smile growing when Sirius’ eyes meet his and crinkle in the corners.

“Pandora told me she has a recipe for lavender tea; could be nice to try after a moon, hm?” James offers.

“You’d probably like that too, hey Moons? Lavender tea.” Sirius asks. 

And Remus couldn’t deny that he would probably like just about anything so long as he was able to enjoy it with the three of you; pre- and post-moons, recovering in the hospital wing, watching paint dry, steeping tea…whatever.

 “Yeah, Pads.” He admits. “I think I would.”

[azsazz]

Little Bird

Kinktober Day 24: Lorcan x Reader [Size Kink]

Summary: You're tired of sword-fighting with Lorcan. You want to practice endurance with him instead.

Warnings: Smut, size kink, choking, fingering.

Word Count: 2,452

Notes: Sorry these are taking so long...

_________________________________________

You don’t know if you should be more worried about the sword millimeters away from your neck, or the looming body that pins you to the ground. If he decides to rest his weight down on you, if you even think about trying to squirm away from him, he will fucking crush you.

It shouldn’t make you as hot as it does. Lorcan’s hot breath fanning across your face as he bends over you. Your torso, pinned between the thick of his thighs, large as mountains. Onyx eyes peer down at you, and there’s no distinction between the color and pupil. His equally dark hair is pulled from his face, but there’s a strand fallen free and brushing the skin of your hot cheek, clinging to the dew. 

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you, his voice is low and cold, but his breath across your lips is hot. Draws your focus. That’s what he wants.

Your own weapon is just out of reach from where he’d hit it from your hand. You’d tried to defend yourself with your fists, but Lorcan is easily thrice your size and acts like it too. He doesn’t hold back with you, because you’ll never learn how to defend yourself against someone his size, even though you’re not sure there could ever be another person his size, because he’s fucking huge.

You could try to jut up your knee between his legs, but your attempt wouldn’t do much damage because the part you’re aiming for sits thick and heavy on your stomach. Your arms are pinned in one of his large hands with nowhere to go. You’re out of options. Or, almost out of options.

There’s one thing left in your arsenal that you can use. One that will have Lorcan growling at you for not taking any of this training seriously, but only for a moment.

You arch your body under his, pressing your breasts from the ground to rub against his chest. Lorcan blinks, nostrils flaring at the sweet scent that suddenly invades his senses, and he grits his teeth as he catches on immediately to your plans.

“I’m going to let you fuck me, Lorcan.”

“No, little bird, we’re going to train.” He demands it of you, even though you feel his cock twitch in his pants. You squirm and he pulls his blade slightly, not wanting you to accidentally injure yourself, and you swallow back your triumphant grin. The way that he’s keeping you pinned, looking out for your safety, makes you hot. 

“Let’s work on endurance, then,” you challenge. “I know you can use come work.” 

With that, you know you have him. Lorcan bares his teeth, sharp canines gleaming in the sun’s lowering light. The growl that accompanies it rattles your bones, reverberates deliciously against your clit and your breath hitches harshly.

Lorcan chases the sight, your chest flaring a little at your gasp. The sweat that beads between your breasts. Your lips part with the inhale and he wants to bite, tear the perfect pink skin of your mouth until they’re swollen and panting and in a perfect circle for him to stick his cock into. That would teach you, he’s sure, to taunt him like that, when his cock is shoved so fucking far down your throat that it nearly tears around his girth.

“Little bird,” he says, deathly calm. “You do not want to fuck with me.” 

You roll your eyes, “Of course not, Lorcan. I want to you to fuck me.”

You whimper as he tosses his sword away and flattens his body against yours. You loose your breath with his weight, but he’s heavy and hot against you, smothering you with that large frame of his. 

“You won’t be able to train for days,” he murmurs against your skin. His teeth scrape your cheek and you shiver. Your arms strain beneath his grip with the intent to cling to him, but he’s too strong, easily keeping them tightly pinned to the ground above your head. You whine a little, and his grip only gets harsher. “Oh no, little bird. If you don’t want to work, you don’t get to touch. I’ll fuck you as long and hard as I please for your insolence.”

His words shouldn’t make you shiver with pleasure but they do. Your nipples tighten with interest and Lorcan’s pupils dilate at the feeling, his chest pressed to yours.

“Hands,” you pant, because he’s rubbing himself tauntingly against you and you no longer know words. He’s thick and full in his pants, hot against your thigh. You think you’re pleasing for him to release your hands, or touch you with his, but you can’t be sure. Either works, though.

Lorcan hums, pulling away from the dark mark he’s sucked into your neck. There are two little indents, not quite his fangs breaking skin, but they look incredible on your flushed skin like this.

“Hands,” he hums thoughtfully, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Want me to let you go, bird? Want my hands all over this tight little body? Or perhaps around your neck? You know how pretty you look with my hand around your throat, don’t you?” 

You nod frantically, more than ready for him to force the air from your body while he impales you on his cock. With his hand wrapped around your throat, breathing will be a struggle until the male above you allows it. Just like he’s allowing you to taunt him, to land a swipe at him with your sword. Nothing happens that Lorcan doesn’t want to happen. He is always in charge, leading the bull.

Lorcan’s free hand has released your arms but you keep them high above your head even if the urge to rip out the tie in his hair and bury your fingers into it is so great it makes your arms shake. A grunt of approval leaves his lips and it sends heat right down to your core, pooling between your thighs.

“Open your mouth for me bird,” he commands, brushing his thick fingers across your lips. They part automatically, and your skin is bussing with his touch as he dips two fingers in. “Yes. Good girl, just like that.” Lorcan’s praises, and presses those long fingers of his further down your throat. You choke, a squelching sound coming from your mouth that sets his charcoal eyes alight, his cock twitching between your bodies as he struggles not to grind. “Look at you, taking me so well. Should we find out what else we can fill?”

You moan, sucking them in bliss. You’re harsh with it, just the way that he likes. He likes it so much that Lorcan starts thrusting his fingers even faster, saliva pooling in your mouth as he moves, but he likes it messy, loves the way your lips swell and the way that you drool for him. Maybe he’ll even stick his fat cock down your throat if you’re good. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your throat is tight around his fingers and you’ve forgotten just how big he is all around. Not just his cock that he’s hastily tugging from his trousers and tugging roughly before he’s removing his fingers from your throat.

You whimper at the loss but gasp as he kicks your thighs open, not wasting any time to reach down and tear a hole right through your own fighting leathers. The sound of the fabric ripping echoes through the thicket of trees and you’re thankful he made you hike so far out today, though with the way that his cock is standing straight and leaking at the tip, red and ready for your perfect, tight cunt, you know your cries of pleasure will be heard for miles and miles.

“Please,” you beg, and you relent. You don’t care how he’ll punish you, you need to feel his flesh embedded beneath your nails, need to feel the dips and valleys of the muscle stacking his body. You need to see the way that his hands smother yours, how he doesn’t even have to strain a muscle folding you into the positions he likes. “Please, Lorcan. I need your cock.” 

He grunts in response, a disapproving sound as he stares at your tiny cunt, shining and wet for him. As much as he’d love to lean over and fuck right down to the hilt, you’ll only break. So, he needs to take this slow.

“Fingers first, little bird.”

The moan you release as his first finger dips into your wetness turns pinched when Lorcan adds a second, then third on the next plunge in. You scream around his fingers, at the feeling of him stretching you. Loran hushes you softly but keeps moving, his other hand coming to caress your face, trailing down your neck to grab a fistfull of your breast through your shirt. Your fingers scratch at his skin, begging him not to stop, working your cunt ready for his cock.

He towers over you, covering every inch of your body with his. The ground is hard beneath your back but he’s even harder above you. His onyx eyes are all you can focus on as the fire builds in your gut and then it’s only darkness and sparks of light that surround you when your eyes roll into the back of your head while you orgasm. 

Before you can even catch your breath, before you can even force your eyes open again, Lorcan is nudging the head of his cock into your entrance. It stings, because no amount of prep from him can compare to the girth of his cock as it stretches your channel wider and wider. 

Your soft fingers turn to snake bites against his shoulders as he wedges himself inward. Your body is coiled with tension, with the intrusion of his large cock, and he leans down to take your mouth against his as he works to distract you. 

You whimper painfully against his mouth, and Lorcan growls. “Take it bird. Take all of me.”

And you have no choice but to. Your body is made for him, slick and hot and greedily accepting every inch that he’s giving you. He groans like a pained man when you constrict around his cock, not following his direction. Slipping a finger between your bodies, he rolls your clit between his rough fingers and slowly you begin to relax.

Your pained sounds turn to pleasured moans, your back arching with need and your stomach bulging with the tip of his cock. His hips meet yours and it’s always a surprising feat that he can fit that far inside of you, pressing into your organs with his head.

“Too deep,” you gasp when he pulls his hips out and thrusts them back in. Lorcan doesn’t falter in his movements, only hooks his hands under your knees and presses them to your chest, forcing himself further. “You’re too deep, Lorcan.”

“You’re okay, bird,” he grunts low. He bends over and licks a tear that’s escaped the corner of your eye, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin afterward. “You can take it. Arch your back for me. Gods,” he pants when you follow his command. “Just like that.”

Lorcan adjusts his hips and slides into you at an angle that makes every pinch and twist of pain worth it. The head of his cock brushes up against your walls, hot and leaking, and it feels so good. 

“Please, kiss me,” you beg and Lorcan doesn’t hesitate. He lets you lead the kiss, taking everything that you need from him and giving you even more. His tongue brushes across yours at the same time he hits that bundle of nerves inside of you again and you moan deeply into his mouth. He swallows it like the greedy fucking male he is, smothering you, taking you, because you are his and for no one else.

Lorcan thrusts harder and you tighten your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck as your body vibrates with pleasure. You know that he’s close, and you can feel the building of your own orgasm threatening to crash over you as well. But you want to wait, you want to cum with him, feel your juices mix together as he fucks them deep into your womb.

“Don’t close your eyes, little bird. Look at me when you cum,” Lorcan says, and it almost feels wrong, the way he’s so gently smoothing back the hair clinging to your damp cheeks. You cum with the feeling of his calloused fingers so tender on your skin. He may not let anyone else see this side of him, showing you how much you mean to him, but here and now, even after you’ve all but taunted his skills, he continues this kindness, and it makes your heart swell with joy.

Lorcan’s name is a desperate cry on your lips as you cum for the second time. His chest vibrates with a growl that only has your cunt constricting tighter around him, so tightly that he has to put more effort into jerking in and out of you. The feeling of your warmth choking his cock is more than enough to shove him over the edge as well, spurting rivulets of cum into your cunt with a growl that shakes your core.

“Such a good little bird, aren’t you?” he asks when he comes down from his own high, enjoying the feeling of himself dripping out of your cunt around his cock that’s still shoved deeply into you. If you weren’t on the tonic you’d be worried about how easily Lorcan would be able to impregnate you, but as you lie beneath him in bliss, the both of your chests sticking together with sweat, you might not mind baring his children someday.

“So good,” you swallow roughly, caressing his sides. You squeal when Lorcan grabs your hips and rolls you so that you’re lying across his chest, and your cunt pulses at the feeling of his cock grinding with the mauver. Lorcan groans softly, his large hands pinning your hips in place so that you don’t get any ideas about rolling your hips while he’s still coming down from his previous orgasm. 

“Give me a few minutes, bird,” he huffs, closing his eyes. His eyebrows are strained but you can feel his cock twitch in your cunt. 

You hum, clenching around him on purpose. Lorcan growls and bares his teeth again, but you only stroke the pad of your finger down the length of his sharp tooth. “But Lorcan, I thought we were working on your endurance.”

[nightxcreature]

Unresolved

       Summary: Reader finds Demon Dean on a hunt, but maybe she shouldn't have.

     A/N: Trying another for @jacklesversebingo this one is Character Death.

Warnings: Death, Fighting, Unspoken pining/love, Demon Dean being a bit of an asshole? Angst

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader (Sort of?)

18+ ONLY

    “Get away from me.” I growl as he pushes me harshly against the wall. My hands are pinned to my sides, his chest pressed to mine and his knee between my legs, making fighting back more difficult than I had bargained for. I twist against him, trying my best to wiggle out of his grip to no avail.

                A low laugh rumbles from his chest as his hands grip my wrists roughly and flings them above my head, “Or what, Darlin’?” His eyebrows rise and a little smirk plays on his lips, “What are you gonna do all on your own?” His chest presses further onto mine causing my breathing to become labored as he tightens his grip on my wrists, bruises beginning to form under his fingers.

                “Dean…” I manage to squeak out, “Please.”

                He rolls his eyes and yanks my wrists from above us, using them to fling me into the opposite wall, “Sorry, Sweetheart, Dean can’t come to phone right now.” I fall to the floor with a grunt, my head spinning from the impact while he stalks over to me, bending down to grab my hair and pull me to my knees. He tugs me roughly by the roots, just high enough that we’re eye to eye, his flashing black as he grins, “Guess you’ll have to leave a message.”

                I struggle against his grip, slowly sliding my hand down into my boot to wrap my fingers around the blade hidden there only to be met with his own fingers around my wrist once again. I whimper as he slams me into the floor and quickly removes the blade from my ankle, “I know all your tricks, y/n. Everything about you is floating around in this melon of his.” He taps the point of the knife against his own temple with a sick smile and squats next to me, a hand placed against my head as he runs the blade gently across my throat, “Has it not occurred to you that this will be so easy for me? That I just don’t care anymore?” A dark chuckle leaves his lips as he roughly grips my hair again, “He loved you, you know? Never said anything, thought you deserved better than him…” A gasp leaves me and I'm unsure if it’s from the shock of his revelation or from the beating I’ve been receiving at his hand, “You didn’t know? Funny, he didn’t hide it very well…even died for you a few times, didn’t he?”

                I frown, staring up into his green eyes as he drops a knee to my side. He runs the blade up to my throat again and presses it into my skin causing me to flinch. This man that I recognize physically, that resembles every bit of the man I’d hunted with, fought for, and loved unconditionally, is a totally different person since taking The Mark, “Is he still in there?” I whisper, quickly regretting it as he frowns.

                His jaw ticks and he rubs the back of the hand that grips the knife across his face, “Don’t try that shit on me, Doll.”

                My frown deepens as my eyes narrow, “I think he is, and I’m gonna get him back.”

                He laughs again, bringing his face down to mine. My eyes closing at the closeness; the feeling of Dean so close yet so far away. His breath fans my face as he speaks, “I don’t think you are.”

                “You’re wrong. You love me.” I whisper urgently back, a hand slowly reaching up to grip the back of his head, “You love me.” Each word enunciated as we stare into each other. I can see a silent battle behind his gaze before his black eyes flash back to their usual green and I see a moment of recollection on his face before he blinks and they’re dark as onyx once more. A sharp sting runs through my abdomen as he smiles.

                His wrist turns causing me to scream, his words barely registering as I reach up to pry his hands away from me, “No, he loved you. I never said anything about myself.” He glances down at the stain forming on my white shirt, that smile never leaving his face, “Thanks for bringing him to the surface for this little party though.” He sinks the knife further into my stomach before pulling it out and placing in one of my shaking hands as he stands, “I’ll send Sammy a Ouija board so you can let him know to stop following me.”

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Tags: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

[novantinuum]

Pink Onyx AU- An Analysis and Theory Post, Part 2

[Part 1] | [Part 2- You are here!] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5]

~

Welcome back, folks! This is part 2 of my analysis series on the excellent @pink-onyx-au comic made by @ceephorsshitshow. And for those who are tuning in fresh just now, please check out the first part- linked above- for more information on what these posts are all about. A lot of this analysis will build on what came previously.

We’re jumping right back into it.

__

Question Two: What is Pink Steven’s whole deal in this comic, anyways?

Fans of this comic have long pointed out the oozing pink looming at the corner of many of the earlier comic panels when Steven and Jasper are fused, and the strong resistance Steven’s own gem seems to have to being Onyx at all.

(Episode 1: Pages 17 & 18)

In some small way, even if he never states it any more bluntly than he does in the panels above, even Steven himself recognizes what’s going on. The reason their first fusion attempt doesn’t take is because half of him doesn’t want anything to do with Jasper at all.

And with the way Jasper speaks of fusion like it’s a tool to conquer, it’s not very hard to glean one of the reasons why.

(Episode 2: Page 17)

Pink Steven, probably: And That Was My Cue To Say Yikes™

So, yeah. If you’ve read the comic, you know what happens after this. Steven allows Jasper to front for a while completely unhindered, genuinely curious about what she thinks he should be using his powers for. 

(Episode 4: Page 3)

This decision isn’t inherently a wrong one- in fact, from one angle I think it shows a lot of mature openness to go to such lengths to try and understand someone you feel you don’t have much in common with. However, it IS a decision that Steven himself doesn’t seem to be in consensus over. And we know this because of how he physically responds to Jasper’s violent use of these powers, and what the speech bubble styles (there’s a lot of that scribbly pink lettering throughout this scene) can tell us about his mental state.

(Episode 3: Page 7)

Like, just look at the top set of eyes while Jasper’s taking this fused body on a destructive spin around the woods while abusing his powers. They are alert, they are pink, and they are fucking ANGRY.

Not only that, but this part of Steven almost seems to be feeling a bit vindictive towards Jasper for the harm she’s caused him in the past, because he takes a minor bit of control for just a moment to summon that damned death barrier again, in a move that feels intensely like a silent threat to me.

(Episode 3: Page 9)

Jasper confirms herself in Episode 4 that she did NOT consciously summon this barrier. So, it was Steven, then. Or at least… It was a part of Steven.

(Episode 3: Page 10)

I feel like many readers contextualize this moment as Steven’s Gem half chastising Jasper for abusing his powers, but I personally read it as him calling out Steven himself- Steven as a whole- for allowing her to have full reign when he knew deep down he was in conflict over the idea of this whole fusion to begin with. The panels with the visualization of Steven’s human half struggling to crawl his way through this gummed up, frothy pink fusion mindscape while his other half takes the reigns immediately calls to mind the shot of Jasper struggling for control in Malachite’s mindscape in the season 2 episode "Chille Tid." 

Not only that, but take a close look at human Steven’s eyes in that previous panel…

They’re dulled, not drawn with full black irises like they usually are. 

(Episode 3: Page 13)

And guess how full hybrid Steven is drawn just a few panels later, right after Pink Steven pulls away his power (“But you’re starting over just like I did!”) and Onyx splits? Those same, concerningly dulled eyes. Reminds me a lot of how he looked during both the cliffhanger of Change Your Mind and when his gem was glitching out in the movie. Given the context of the scene and the internal instability he was facing, I take this to mean that even his gem powers have briefly been nerfed, rendering him just as weak at this moment as he’d be without that gem at all. Hell, this whole page basically reads as him outright bargaining with this part of himself to summon one last panel to break Jasper’s fall.

“No. She can’t… She can’t… Please. She didn’t… didn’t… mean…”

So yeah, this episode in particular is the best glimpse we’ve gotten at the blatant opinions and feelings of this part of Steven so far… but quite frankly, I think the visual motif of the ominous pink goop oozing in at the edges of panels continues to be a powerful reminder of his constant presence. He’s watching things closely. I think the last thing he wants right now is for Steven as a whole to end up hurt by this again.

Basically, in my head, the ooze is Pink Steven’s “Mmmm don’t like that” signifier, lol.

__

Question Three: What is up with Onyx’s fusion dream?

The beginning of Episode 7 starts with Onyx caught in the middle of a strange dream.

(Episode 7: Page 1)

In my mind, this is absolutely one of those strange mixed-up fusion dreams- the subject and presentation influenced by the thoughts and memories of the individuals involved in said fusion. I think this dream is a combo of the memories from Rose that Steven can access through his gem and Jasper’s own fears/insecurities.

You have a visualization of the corruption blast, an event that Rose experienced firsthand- thus, exists as dormant memory within Steven’s gem… and then I think Jasper’s component of this is the perspective, and how it compares to her experience in being struck down by a diamond attacking from the sky in much a similar way. Only, unlike Rose… she didn’t have a shield to hide behind.

Part of me kind of wonders if the emergence of this dream means Jasper’s den is IN the same place where Rose shielded her friends from the corruption blast- since usually, these memory related dreams that Steven and his fusions have are drawn out by being in the exact locations the memories took place. It’s kinda hard to say, though. In the one shot we have of Rose facing the corruption blast, the environment looks entirely different (way flatter, not reddened + weapons on the ground) than the environment in Onyx’s dream. In fact, the environment in Onyx’s dream looks far closer to this:

The context given in the episode "A Single Pale Rose" shows that this is the Strawberry Battlefield right after the corruption blast itself. (An earlier shot shows the floating islands unique to this area.) You get the reddened soil and the weapons, like we see with what Onyx is dreaming, and the hills. 

So, I think our most likely possibilities are as follows: 

Rose defending the Crystal Gems from the corruption blast DID take place in this location, and the actual shot of her pulling up the shield is just colored a lot differently… perhaps to account for the intense glow of the Diamonds’ power.

The location visualized in Onyx’s dream is actually related to a Jasper-specific memory of the war, which is merely getting mixed up with the ambient memory of Rose seeing the corruption blast careening down at her.

No matter which of the two is true, the major crux of this dream is how it parallels Jasper’s experience of seeing Steven let loose his shattering strike from the sky. This is important, because it is yet another piece of evidence that she is truly, DEEPLY bothered by this moment, even if she often acts otherwise.

When Steven bluntly asks her why she’s not bothered by him shattering her, she deflects…

(Episode 1: Page 7) 

…completely brushing over any and all feelings she may harbor over the matter to comment on how shattering is a completely normal thing for the old eras of Gemkind. However, later on, she admits that she felt upset when a part of Steven summoned that spiked barrier again while fused as Onyx.

(Episode 4: Page 4)

This signals to me that processing this event is going to be a large part of Jasper’s arc in this comic. This is the capital ‘B’ Big Trauma that she is burying under all her false bravado and her tough exterior.

I think it is also important to note that we see a visualization of the battlefield from this dream once more, when Onyx’s own personality finally comes to the forefront for the first time. We’ll delve into this matter in the next discussion section.

__

Look out for the next post in this series at 7am PST tomorrow. Farewell!

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Cloud City, Chapter One - a Malevolent AU

You could put it off until we’re inside. I wouldn’t want to use you up too fast tonight.

“No, I can’t risk missing anything. Do it.”

As you wish.

And then that familiar pain, the burning power of sharing his nerves and his brain and his eyes, and it’s always too much, always so much, and he stands still and breathes steadily and waits for the worst of it to pass. In the beginning, he’d lose precious minutes after Hastur gave him sight, but these days, he manages to keep his head on straight.

Now, Arthur sees what’s real. This is not like humans see. This is Hastur’s sight, and nothing is hidden.

AO3 || Masterpost

-------

The sun never rises in Cloud City. Arthur supposes it must have, once, just practically speaking, but not in his lifetime.

He stares at the city from his 40th-floor office, pondering the darkened windows, the distant clouds, the foolish bargains and dire deals. It’s all rounded tower-tops and gleaming angles, bronze both real and fake, clearly once intended to shine in the sun.

It sure as hell won’t shine now. Arthur knows the truth of it, anyway: it’s secretly gross inside, slimy where unseen.

Like him.

The lack of sun keeps it palatable, he thinks. He wouldn’t know what to do with that much light, burning down on everybody and revealing everything.

Are you ready, Arthur?

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” says Arthur, and straightens his tie. “Wonder what they found this time?”

Whatever it is, I expect it to be connected.

“Not this, again. Your pet theory. Murder, hijacked? You still haven’t explained that.”

I’m hoping I don’t have to. I’m hoping I’m wrong.

“You, hoping you’re wrong?” Arthur says, and dons his fedora. “That’s new. Must be my birthday. I should go place a bet on the ponies after Yang finishes beating us up.”

Very funny. Protections check, Arthur. You’re not ripe enough to harvest just yet.

Arthur checks himself quickly and expertly, touching his rings, pinching (and wincing) at the onyx taper that sits, sharp and unpleasant, in his earlobe. Even the sprig of rosemary hidden inside his lapel is secure. “Am I acceptable?”

No, but it’ll do.

“Funny.” Arthur checks his gun. Each bullet chamber tingles as it should, and he clicks the cylinder back into place and tucks the gun in its holster. "So what’ll be Yang’s excuse today, you think?"

Something inane and personal. I don’t trust him, Arthur.

"He either wants to fuck me or kill me," Arthur says, and reaches for the door. "Probably the latter.”

No. He wants something else.

“Right. He’s always grabbing and searching me because he wants to take me to the opera.”

I guarantee you that is not what he wants, either.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Sure. Whatever his deal is, we’ll charge through it."

Headfirst, as always.

"Hastur, really—is there any other way to be?" Arthur says, and closes the door. Behind him, it automatically locks, and the low rumble of the usual wards marks the place secure.

#

Arthur is a private investigator, and the coppers only call him in when things have well and truly hit the fan. Of late, even with help from the witches, there have been a lot of messy fans.

There are a lot of murders in Cloud City these days. Arthur even has to take fewer private clients, with as much as the coppers need him. It was getting so a guy couldn’t get a cup of coffee without risking his life.

(It was still better here than any other city Arthur had ever heard of, protected as it was by the witches—and certainly better than the surrounding, endless Wastes. Arthur wants to see the world, and always has; but he can’t risk letting his daughter’s murderer off the hook, and Hastur has at least learned that the killer is still here somewhere. So, Arthur will never leave, deadly coffee-runs or no.)

The fact is that the coppers need him. With his weird Summon, Arthur is the best. They know it. He knows it. Nobody enjoys the situation much.

The street is cordoned off, police and murmurs and flashing lights scaring away the gawkers. Yang waits by the entrance to the murder scene, surrounded by yellow tape and wearing a scowl fit for a dethroned king.

Arthur and Yang… do not get along. Yang acts as though Arthur is responsible for all the woes in the world, and that plays out in frequent searches, bullying, and invasive questions. So weird, that guy. On paper, Arthur would’ve thought they’d get along. Both of them had been orphaned after Dagon’s Mass Summon wrecked half the town. Both of them had clawed their way up from nothing to a life and a reputation. Both had lousy luck with love, too—he’d heard Yang’s last lover had been found down by the docks, missing his head and filled with squirming things no one could name.

Well, Arthur’s last lover had died alone from a bullet-wound to the gut, so. Protections or no, Cloud City isn’t kind to its people, innocent or not.

The second Arthur comes near, Yang zeroes in. “You took your time,” he snaps.

“No more than usual,” Arthur replies. “Wouldn’t want to step all over your precious toes, anyway.”

“Shut your yap and put on your eyes. We need you.” Yang turns on his heel and marches through the door like an honor guard who hates the honor.

“He didn’t even search us. Must be bad today.”

I don’t trust that man, says Hastur.

“He’s just an ass. You know that.”

He’s obsessed with you. He manages to be at every damn crime scene they call you to.

“He’s a police detective, Hastur. That’s literally what puts cheese on his table.”

Don’t turn your back.

“So you’ve said for the past five years, friend, and yet nothing has happened.”

It will.

“Sure.” Arthur takes a breath. “Ready?”

You could put it off until we’re inside. I wouldn’t want to use you up too fast tonight.

“No, I can’t risk missing anything. Do it.”

As you wish.

And then that familiar pain, the burning power of sharing his nerves and his brain and his eyes, and it’s always too much, always so much, and he stands still and breathes steadily and waits for the worst of it to pass. In the beginning, he’d lose precious minutes after Hastur gave him sight, but these days, he manages to keep his head on straight.

Now, Arthur sees what’s real. This is not like humans see. This is Hastur’s sight, and nothing is hidden.

With his own eyes, these walls are drear and the shadows thick, and he’d be lucky to spot so much as a paint-splattered footprint in the mess of ichor and rain and spilled, dead magick, clumsily dropped by incautious Contractors. With Hastur’s sight, Arthur sees every lingering breath of every fucking thing that ever walked this street. He sees echoes of bodies past, of souls that once floated through—currents on the wind of powers and wills and wishes, hints of the dark things wrought here by begging and blood.

He sees the bugs, too, the weird smudges of rot, the strangeness of old and putrid flesh scraped along surfaces. It’s been like that a lot lately. He crushes an insect near his foot.

Then, he sees the more recent passage of something strange, and without thinking, he follows that inside, rather than following Yang.

No one has ever told Arthur what his eyes do when Hastur hooks into them, using Arthur’s soul to fuel Hastur’s sight, but it must be really something, because people tend not to take it in stride. “Oh, fuck!” shouts some officer who must be new.

“Shut up,” Yang snaps, watching Arthur surge by. “Let him work.”

Whatever Yang’s problem with Arthur is, at least he knows Arthur has the goods.

Arthur focuses. He has limited time to use this. His soul is still strong, still there, complete, quite solid—but it is also mortal, and Hastur’s gift carries a cost.

He follows the trail that caught him outside—not footprints, exactly, but a sort of repeated smear, like a bleeding body lifted and dropped repeatedly along the ground. He walks past the corpse they called him in to see (aware of it, yes, but compartmentalized until later, when he can deal with it), and down a hall.

A locked door is in the way. He kicks.

Right before his foot connects, a little zip of power races down his spine and through his leg, a minor magick of strengthening and force. The door smashes open, banging against the inner wall.

Taking me for granted, Arthur? Hastur sounds amused.

“Just getting where I’ve got to go, friend,” says Arthur, already halfway down the hall. His vision is still steady, still Hastur’s. Still perfect. Gods, he loves this, wishes he could see like this all the time. It’s not possible, of course; leaving this on would kill him in a couple of days. But if he could, he would.

The trail leads him through a maze of rooms, past damp places where pipes burst long ago during the Reclamation, and then, it leads him down.

Past the deeper tunnels, where police will not go, where people somehow lived in hiding before the Reclamation freed everyone from the Fire of Y.

Past the ruined sewers, which work in mysterious ways, and into which no one with a working brain would dive.

Past sparking, exploded outlets where surges of electricity and magick grapple for shared space. Arthur is in witch territory now. The smears lead past vats of glowing things—floating pieces of Summons, all that remain after their Contracts failed. Past the quiet, still rooms where wraiths are bound, unable to simply flood the streets outside and cause havoc. And past—

There are bugs. So many bugs. Gross ones, wriggling ones, worms and fetid things. They fall from the ceiling and slick up the walls, sounding vaguely like stirred pasta, and Arthur’s stomach turns as he hunches his shoulders and secures his hat and somehow keeps going.

Careful, Arthur, says Hastur, who cares because Arthur isn’t ready to harvest, and their Contract has not yet been fulfilled.

“I know, I know,” Arthur mutters, unafraid because he has Hastur, following the glowing, splattered smears at a run. Which is why he damn near trips on the second body before he sees it.

Even dead bodies have energy, drifting and unraveling wisps of things that used to be life, but this? This body has none. Even with Hastur’s sight, it barely registers. Arthur gasps, unable to stop his forward momentum.

Yang is right behind him, and grabs his shoulders to pull him away before he can trip on the damn thing. “Fucking hell! A body?” Yang shouts.

A bug skitters over Arthur’s shoe, and he kicks it off. He stares at the body, and tries to shrug off Yang’s grip. “John, what the fuck?” he says, using the pseudonym because Summon names were sacrosanct.

It’s been supernaturally rotted. This corpse is hours old, yet it evinces decades of moldering. A pause. I’ve never seen this before.

And that, from a being older than the universe, is a worrying sentence.

“Well, shit,” says Arthur as Yang yanks him away.

#

Arthur has to maintain Hastur’s sight much longer than is safe.

His sprig of rosemary already went up in a little scented puff of warning—he’s long past the halfway mark of safely channeling Hastur’s power. Unfortunately, he can’t turn it off. The coppers can’t see what he does, and they’re freaked out—all over the place, staggered, stunned, spooked and almost useless, because nobody comes down here below the corpse-tunnels, past where humans used to live and now nothing does.

The witch they brought in to help is grim. She shares no opinion, avoids Arthur entirely (but they nearly always do), and mixes the witch paint they’ll need to use so that the coppers can see the clues, too.

“But how did the body get down here?” Yang keeps demanding.

The path Arthur picked clearly hadn’t been used before he came through, busting doors and taking names. Except it had, somehow, and whoever used it had left quite a trail behind. Arthur’s eyes hurt, and his head hurts, and he can’t stop yet. “John says that stuff is ethereal hemolymph. Basically whatever souls lose when they bleed.”

Yang is fucking pale. “Souls don’t bleed.”

“John says they do when the damage is bad enough.”

Yang shakes his head, informs Arther he loves his mother in a carnal fashion, and stomps off to oversee clue gathering. The essence of Yang—his soul, his anger, his history, his thoughts—streams behind him like smoke in water, colorful and smeared. Arthur feels like that essence is all over him at this point. A bug crawls near his shoe, and he squashes it.

Arthur’s eyes… ache. They throb with his heart; and he sees so much, too much, every-much, and his head feels like it’s tearing. “John, I… I can’t do this much longer.”

Almost there, Arthur. You can take it. Hastur purrs, talking like that, as if Arthur’s pain through Hastur’s power is such a lovely thing.

Nothing like a reminder I’ve made a deal with a devil, Arthur thinks, but steels himself to continue. It’s not like he deserves any better. It’s not like he’s even going to fight when it comes time for Harvest.

“Help,” says one of the coppers, who can’t figure out just where to put the witch-paint down.

Arthur has to show them, has to lead them to every single spot—has to demonstrate every splatter, describe every splash. The witch-paint reacts immediately against these smears only he can see, flaring nightmare-green and visible to all. He’s almost done when they have a terrible surprise: whatever those stains do when exposed with paint is too much for the witch who made it. Out of nowhere, she screams.

Arthur spins. Through Hastur’s sight, he sees... it’s something green, all over her, through her, wrapping around like sentient smoke, if smoke could be foul. He takes a step toward her, then she falls, limp, with blood streaming from her eyes. “Fuck me!” he says, and nearly backs up against the wall before remembering it’s covered in bugs.

Witches are powerful. Far more powerful than anyone else in the city. That shouldn’t have happened.

They need a stronger witch, says Hastur as though this was nothing.

“Fuck,” says Arthur again.

Yang is yelling, and everyone is scrambling, because now, it’s a problem. Arthur’s headache is worse. “You could’ve fucking warned her!” says Yang as though he did it on purpose.

“I didn’t know that would happen!” Arthur snaps, which is fair—Hastur is so unlike any other Summon that Arthur’s scale for 'powerful' is skewed. “It’s never happened before!”

“Well, it happened this time. It’s practically fucking assault,” Yang says.

And then a horrible thing happens: one of Arthur’s rings cracks, pops, and falls off his hand.

He gasps, staring at the pieces. That means he’s hit his limit. That means they’ve used so much of Hastur’s magick today that his body can take no more without harm; the ring just took the excess, barely channeling it away. “John!”

You’ve done enough, Hastur soothes. Let it go.

Arthur does, receiving dark and muddled human sight with relief, slumping forward. His head pounds like he’s hungover, except he isn’t, and didn’t even get the fun part of feeling drunk. “Fuck,” he mutters. It takes a full year to attune a ring. They’re expensive. And he feels like shit. He groans.

“What, you’re already done?” Yang says, standing too close, like always.

“Fuck you,” mutters Arthur, gripping his head, waiting for his heart to slow.

“Did you at least get all of them?”

“All of… the stains? Yeah.”

“Sure you didn’t leave any out because it hurt your widdle head to keep going?” Yang says.

Arthur hisses through his teeth.

Arthur. He’s just pushing your buttons. He wants something from you. Let it go.

“We’ll see what Asenath thinks when she gets here,” says Yang. “I am taking her recommendation. If you missed any, this might be it for you, Lester.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you called Asenath?”

“Of course I did,” says Yang, low and vicious.

Arthur rubs his head. The wooziness isn’t going away. He can hear Asenath at the other side of the tunnel, fussing over the downed witch. “Great,” he mutters. “Just great.”

It’s going to be fine. She knows you didn’t do anything wrong.

“John, she fucking hates me,” Arthur says.

“Can’t blame her,” says Yang, standing way too close.

His head throbs. “Yeah, yeah.”

Arthur. Focus. You don’t have time to be an idiot about this. Just answer Asenath’s questions and get us out of here.

That won’t be easy. It’s not like Asenath has ever liked him, and their discussions always devolve into insults. He swears it’s like she takes his presence personally. “Sure. I can handle that. Right.”

Yang grips his arm as though to keep him from running away. “Just in case you aren’t cooperative.”

Arthur can’t do this right now. “Yang,” he says, slowly. “Back off..”

Instead, Yang leans in so close his lips brush Arthur’s ear, and says in a low tone, “Or. You’ll. What?”

And for no reason at all, that’s it.

Yang has hounded him for five fucking years, always in his face, always at every crime scene Arthur’s called to, and what the fuck is his problem, anyway?

Arthur snaps.

With absolutely no sense of self-preservation and in front of a room full of witnesses, he spins around and punches Yang in the face.

(chapter two)

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 8- Part 9

Um…that sounds interesting, but I don’t think I wanna get involved in that right now. Maybe another time.

Anyways, we go over to the other desk, see what they have on sale…

Oooh, now this is interesting. See, in addition to the Whipped Dream there, all those other candies are actually status healing items! Like- Peppermint heals Poison, Chewing Gum heals Paralysis, Pop Rocks heal Sleep, etc. Heck, the Cotton Candy is even a type of revival item! I’d like to buy some of these, but unfortunately they’re a little pricey, so we’ll have to come back another time.

Now let’s get out of here and spare our eyes from further color assault-

Okay, more of those gross little vines poking around- this must be around the entrance to Obsidia Park.

Can’t blame you, man, I don’t like the look of those weird little vines either- they’re still squirming…

Oh, hey Poison Ivy, wasn’t expecting to see you in a Pokémon fan game. Maybe Team Meteor isn’t responsible for all of this and it’s literally just her, Team Meteor’s just a red herring.

Anyways, the plot is over there, but I wanna hear what the last few civilians over there have to say.

Forget tearing up anything, what were those swear word replacements? And more importantly, can I steal them?

Onyx Ward is that way? Hm- well, I didn’t exactly look in-depth at the map last time I checked it, so that’s news to me.

These guys can’t keep doing this- what kind of academy did they train at?

See, this guy is taking his job seriously!

But, these trees scattered around- they look just like the tree from earlier, the one that could be removed with Cut. I wonder- are these all Cut trees, or are they just decoration alongside the creepy vines?

Oh, these are all Cut trees! Too bad we can’t get rid of any of them without that TMX. But maybe we’re about to get it? Let’s talk with Victoria and progress the story, then we’ll see.

Yeah, I think Victoria’s starting to realize just how in over our heads we all are (well, except Florinia)...

Wait wait wait wait wait- you’re telling me ALL THOSE TREES are new!? Like- ALL of that!? I thought it was just the creepy vines and those extra little trees growing in between making it look all tangled, but that’s ALL new!? Oh, that’s horrifying! How does that even happen? How powerful was that “machine” the guy talked about!?

Right- we did hear about Jasper Ward being locked down for reasons unknown at the time, right? Well, uh- guess we know the reason, now…

Previous

Next

[venomquill]

Unattended

[A Sun and Moon/lost child souls fic. Remember when children were killed and their souls stuck into robots? This is that, so violence warning! Also, Vanny! :D]

The lights were on.

Laughter and squeals and crying mixed with storming footsteps and bouncy music to create a magic cacophony that married the vibrant explosion of colors in organic and inorganic shapes and extreme hues and vibrancy. Currently, a twelve-year-old boy sat cross-legged on the bars the jungle gym entrance tunnel of the bridge on the smaller side of the play place, a book about space monsters in his hands. He knew he wouldn’t fall; he spent years practicing sitting or standing on the monkey bars while reading. He knew his limits.

His sister on the other hand…

He heard a hard thump and a few gasps. He peered over his book below the bridge. His sister lay spread eagle flat on the floor like a pancake. A messy off-white shirt and bell-bottomed, pink pants fanned out on the ground. She popped her head up and chirped, “I’m fine!” She laughed and hopped to her feet, baring her teeth in a wide grin. A few gaps, some partially full, marked previous stunts. The other kids around her backed off as to not get hit by the girl by accident.

The Daycare Attendant ran up to her, almost as frazzled as the girl that had just fallen off the bridge. “Alright, back to your games, little ones.” The kids complained, but with more coercion, dispersed. “Jade, are you okay?”

“Yes, Miss!”

“What have I told you about playing on the bridge?” The woman prompted.

“Well, I didn’t get hurt?” Jade edged. “Miss, you see me all the time!”

“Yes, you and Onyx are here every day,” the Daycare Attendant agreed. “But that doesn’t give you any special privilege, okay? Why don’t you go ask your brother to play something safe? Something on the ground this time? Where is he…?” She looked around and then she bent her head back and her eyes met Onyx’s. Onyx’s face flushed and he hid behind his book.

“Onyx!” the Daycare Attendant squawked. “Please get down from there! How many times have I told you not to climb on the equipment? I swear the both of you were birds in another life.”

Onyx bookmarked his book and climbed onto the bridge and, after a half second’s consideration of just hopping down, climbed down through the play place. Jade’s stunt would be encouraging enough for other kids to fall off the bridge, he didn’t need to reinforce it.

The Daycare Attendant put her hands on her hips. “Now, Onyx, Jade. I need you two to make me a promise. Keep your feet on the ground for an hour. That includes using the bridge at all, even normally. If you manage to do that, I’ll give you both some Carrotdrop candies. What do you say?”

Jade’s eyes lit up and she nodded. She puffed out her chest and put a hand to her head. “You got it, Miss!”

Onyx, clutching his book, nodded with a quiet, “Okay, Miss.”

Jade turned to Onyx as soon as the Daycare Attendant turned her attention to the other children. “Okay so… what do you wanna do? That isn’t reading?”

Onyx puffed. “Why not?”

“Because we’re in a play place Onny.” Jade shouldered him. “We’re supposed to have fun jumping on stuff!”

Onyx grinned. “One book? I brought a few! We won’t accidentally get in trouble for climbing on anything doing that!”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “All you read are scary stories and the last time we read a book together you picked out I had nightmares for a month. No thank you.”

Onyx sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t think it was that scary.”

Jade sighed and punched him in the arm, eliciting a yelp from the boy, and laughed. “It’s fine! Come on, spooky boy! Let’s go… jump in the ball pit!” She darted off to the bridge.

Onyx stuck his book in his little book bag and raced after her. They had to take two different bridges to keep from colliding, but they threw themselves into the pit of colorful plastic dirty imperfect balls.

He threw his head up first, laughing at the exhilaration of the short run. “Ha! Jade! Jade, I…! Jade?” His smile fell and he looked around. A couple of other kids played in the fringes of the ball pit, but Jade hadn’t reappeared, nor did she stand on the bridge, laughing at him for jumping in the gross pit as she sensibly stayed behind. A pair of hands grabbed him, and he let out a squeal of fright and spun around, throwing balls high into the air and around.

Jade pushed herself back and popped into existence, cackling. “I got you~!”

“Jade!” Onyx puffed, the skin on his cheeks much too warm. “You jerk!”

His twin scoffed, her grin maddeningly wide, “You eat nightmares for breakfast, Onny. Don’t tell me you’re scared of your big sister.”

Onyx, promising himself a shower when he got home, dove under the surface, grabbed her ankles, and yanked back. He heard her yelp and the rush of exploding balls overhead. Onyx released her and threw himself up and then fought his way back to the bridge.

Jade popped up with a gasp. “Oh, it’s on, now!”

 Onyx hopped onto the bridge, wrinkled his nose at her, and darted off into the play place. Jade stumbled out in hot pursuit, the hair in her twin braids reaching a tangled bird’s nest.

Onyx dove into the play structures and slipped between the obstacles, slowing her down significantly. Eventually, Jade powered through and tackled him, throwing them both to the ground. They rolled into the exposed floor of the play place, the light from the Daycare lights and glowing clouds bright in their eyes and partially broken by the edge of the bridge they hadn’t used. Jade hugged him, growling and biting the collar of his jacket, pinning him with her body weight. Onyx went limp, head on his hands and eyes closed. His chest and stomach pressed into the soft floor, but not overly hard as she didn’t push him with any strength. He yawned.

Jade let go of his jacket collar and set her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “You’re the wimpiest little brother ever.”

Onyx huffed but couldn’t force too much more of a response with a kid his weight pushing down on most of his lungs.

The Daycare Attendant approached them. “Jade and Onyx? How are you two holding up?”

Jade raised her head. “Okay!”

“Tired, huh?”

“Yeah, he gets tired easily, Miss. I don’t, though.”

“Heh. Well, in forty-five minutes, we’re going to have naptime.” The Daycare Attendant sat on her heels. “Your hair gets so messy so fast, Jade. Have you tried a different hairstyle?”

Onyx opened his eyes and looked up at her. He said, “That’s the only one I know, Miss.”

The woman thought a moment. “Well… how about I teach you a new hairstyle?”

Jade perked up. “Like yours?”

The Daycare Attendant smiled back and set a hand on her head, where her hair was pulled up into a flat ball. “Yes. A bun. I think it will last for much longer and it won’t get as messy as fast. And it’ll be very easy for you both to learn.”

Onyx said, “Thank you, Miss.”

“You’re welcome. You’re a good brother, Onyx. You’re both good kids.” She thought for a moment and glanced at her watch. “So… I know I said an hour… but…” She sighed and looked back and then at them. “Do you want your candy now?”

Jade nodded and scrambled off Onyx, who huffed and got up as well. “Yes, please.”

“So polite!” The Daycare Attendant got to her feet and waved them over to the cabinet next to the fridge unit, opened it with a swipe of a card, and plucked a few blue and purple packaged candies from one of the shelves and gave it to them. The twins chorused their gratitude as they unwrapped and immediately ate their candy. So, carrot wasn’t the greatest flavor ever, but it was their favorite candy. After all, the stories behind a specific food could make its value far more than its base flavor.

The Daycare Attendant said, “Hey, Jade and Onyx? I just want you two to know that you are very appreciated and loved, okay?” A pang went through Onyx’s heart, and he decided to look at Jade, who continued to keep her attention on the Daycare Attendant. She went on, this time her speech directed at Onyx, “You have such a wonderful singing voice, Onyx. You know such lovely lullabies. Do you want to help out with story time?”

Onyx blinked. “I-I hel–wh–st–wh-what?”

She chuckled and repeated her question.

Onyx hesitated and glanced at Jade, who grinned and gave him the thumbs up, and then smiled, turned back to the Daycare Attendant, and nodded. “Yes, Miss. I-I… I’d like to.”

*          *          *          *          *

The lights were off.

Alien invader themed decorations filled her vision. The characters dressed up in suits, aliens, lasers, guns–the whole nine yards all spaced out amongst the stars and planets clung to the neon gilded maze and the beams and ceiling above. Dark wetness dribbled down her arm from her shoulder. Her wide brown eyes flicked in every direction as she crept through the maze, her nerves on a razer’s edge and ready to bolt at the slightest noise.

“Onny?” she dared to hiss. “Onny where are you?”

Muffled laughter oozed out of the maze behind her. It was unnatural and cold, like a noise made by someone who didn’t know what joy was and tried imitating someone who did. Her heart lurched and she took off in a random direction in a sprint.

“Ja-ade~!” the feminine voice sang. “Jade, where are you going? Slow down, you’re going to trip! Why don’t we take a break, and we can play a game together? You me and your brother!”

Her heart skipped at the mention of her brother and her eyes stung, but she kept moving.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. It was just a gli-itch.” Her voice modulator warbled.

Jade skidded on the carpeted ground as she nearly ran into a wall and doubled back, gritting her teeth at a headache. Still, she persisted in her running, eyes narrowed and determined against the insistent force trying to disconnect her mind from her senses.

“Let me help you. Then you, me, and your brother can spend the night together. All of us.”

She found a door not labeled as a locked elevator and burst through it. Unlocked?

“Twinkle, twinkle little star,” a quiet voice sang, cracked and thin with terror.

Her breath hitched and she froze.

“How I wonder where you are.” The voice was faint, and quiet to begin with. Onyx was quiet when he sang himself out of bad times.

Oh no! No, Onyx, bad time! Don’t! No! She’ll hear you!

Fingers shaking from nerves, she listened intently as she ran and searched. She ran into a few short sections of gray hallway and clutter and a room of technology. There was a small, gray area clustered with various random objects, both from Fazer Blast and not. A wall here, a generator there. Some color and neon light. A staircase curled up at one end. A light glowed in this last room, outshining the neon and the dim buttons and screens.

Then, Jade stopped, and her hands flew to her mouth.

Onyx’s voice continued to sing, quiet and rhythmic and hitched by the occasional whimper and muffled sob. Standing before her, head cocked so her ears flopped to the side, big red eyes on her, was the patchy white rabbit. In her left paw was a little square device. In her right paw was Onyx, chin touching his space themed shirt and his dark blue eyes misted over. Red stained his dark shirt and pants, gleamed on his cheap and shiny “Storytime Assistant” badge, and bloomed over the rabbit’s arm and leg and both paws. Jade’s stomach churned and she wanted to vomit up the snacks the Daycare Attendant had given them. Her body was hot and cold, and she was shaking and tears rolled down her cheeks and she choked on the snot blocking her nose.

Click.

“Hello, Jade,” the white rabbit purred. “Would you like to join–”

Jade hurled herself at the white rabbit with a scream. Her body collided into the patchy furred suited one and she felt her brother at her calf. She grabbed the white rabbit’s wrist and arm and bit her jaw just behind her mask and lurched to the side.

The white rabbit staggered, releasing Onyx and the recorder. She swiped at Jade’s hair once–it was in a bun like the Daycare Attendant’s, good luck with that–before grabbing her by the neck and tearing her off. The white rabbit flinched and wheezed as she was stricken in the chest and stomach and thigh. Jade’s blood rubbed on her suit and in return, bits of the rabbit’s lint and fur caught under the girl’s nails and in her teeth.

Jade tasted her brother’s blood as the rabbit pried her off.

Sharp pain exploded in her abdomen. She couldn’t breathe through her sobs and snotty nose and screaming. Still, she clung on with her teeth and nails and strength. Pain and punishment over and over and over for her struggles. Her head knocked against the cement, and she saw stars. The stun ended her screaming and thrashing.

The white rabbit stood above her, wheezing, drooping, a hand holding a knife dangling under her dripping with blood running up her hand. Jade coughed and gaped like a fish on land. She tipped her head to look at her twin. Red slithered out of her mouth and runny nose.

The white rabbit leaned down. “You were a little fighter,” she panted. She jabbed Jade in the neck with a needle. The girl convulsed and some bubbles popped out of the stream of red coming from her mouth. The white rabbit dropped it, picked up Onyx, and skipped off.

*          *          *          *          *

The bot scanned the room. The room was vast and edged by machines and spattered with papers, blueprints, and various lights and objects. Lights blazed above along with a network of different arm-like constructs curled up like crab legs. A team of people stood around the center table with the animatronic lay flat on it.

The animatronic contemplated staying still. Then, as the brown-haired one next to it started to fret to the black-haired man, it pulled itself up so that it sat. The team of people stirred–all eyes on it. It looked over them and then itself. It had a cream-and-yellow shell with three red buttons on the front, puffy pants with vertical gold and yellow stripes, red ribbons around its wrist and red sash around its waist, and gold, curly shoes with a bell tipping each one.

Tink, tink!

As it moved its hand, the bells attached to its wrist tinkled. It cocked its head and something creaked. The spokes around its flat face followed and shrunk in and poked back out on a delay since they were on springs.

The brown-haired one he’d seen walked around in front of it. “Hello, Sun!” he greeted. The animatronic looked at the man and lowered its hand. “My name is John Remington. I’m Head of the Engineering Department here at Fazbear Entertainment. You are Sun, future Daycare Attendant. This is my partner, Dennis Harvey…” Mr. John Remington went through and introduced Sun to all of the different people on the team who created it.

The head engineer asked, “Now, what is your name?”

It took it a moment, but the animatronic responded, “Sun. I am Sun, future Daycare Attendant.” The crowd gave a positive response–smiles, murmuring looking at John and then it.

“That’s correct! What’s my name?”

“John Remington,” Sun stated and again received a positive response from the crowd.

Mr. Remington shooed the other engineers back and stepped back himself. “Here, stand up.” Sun obeyed. The bells on its shoes chimed as it got up. “Good! Let’s do some practice.”

Sun… quite enjoyed Mr. Remington’s practice. He talked and he had it move in certain ways and directions and routines. It kept its balance well, but it would challenge itself on occasion, switching feet and trying to do things one-footed. At one point, it rolled forward and stood on its hands, drawing out surprise and glee and some nervousness from the crowd. Mr. Remington, impressed, and excited, switched up what he asked Sun to do to incorporate more of his weird movements. At one point, it looked up at the ceiling and saw a beam close enough it could hop up and grab onto. So, it did. It stopped in the middle of its routine, crouched, and leaped straight up, climbing onto the top of the beam, and crouching low to avoid scraping the ceiling. There was another emotion, one warning it against this action, but it ignored it in favor of its own curiosity. It analyzed the crowd, finding shock and confusion, and quite a lot of amusement. The quiet laughter was Sun’s favorite part.

Mr. Remington chuckled. “Well, as funny as that is, it’s time to come down. You can think of your own ideas and ways of having fun without being taught. That’s very interesting.”

Sun looked at him and then down. Oh. Hold on. Sun could get hurt getting down. If it wasn’t careful, it could break or bend something. Its spokes retracted slightly, and its fingers tightened their grip.

Mr. Remington’s soft voice turned stern. “Sun, come down. Now.”

Sun shuffled and shook its hands to jingle the bells and scanned the ground. Then it gripped the beam in two hands and released it with one foot and sank to the ground as gradually, but quickly, as possible until it could fall safely. It held up its arms when it landed and scanned the crowd. They looked to Mr. Remington, and the crowd itself wasn’t all in agreement with one response be it positive or negative. Mr. Remington, however, frowned at it. “Sun, you broke your routine and then you didn’t come down when asked. That’s not good behavior.”

“I could have broken or bent something,” Sun stated.

“You could have,” Mr. Remington agreed. “Which is why I didn’t ask you to climb up there. Now, aside from that, you’ve been a very good bot. Ms. Alabaster! Shut off the lights, please.”

The lights above shut off.

Then Sun changed. Its spokes retracted and cream and yellow colors changed to navy blue and white. The gold and yellow stripes of its pants became blue with yellow cartoonish stars. A floppy blue nightcap with yellow stars, a bell at the tip, and lined with white fur sat on its head. The right half-moon of its face turned white while the left half turned a nearly black shade of blue. Its eye-lights glowed baby blue.

Not-Sun hunched over, its eye-lights on Mr. Remington. Mr. Remington held a flashlight pointed at the ground.

Mr. Remington smiled. “Hello, Moon. You are also the future Daycare Attendant. You and Sun both.”

“…Sun and I both,” Moon rasped, its voice slightly deeper and quieter than Sun’s. It looked around at the team and it couldn’t help a slight bit of apprehension. Another emotion, this was Sun’s it had to be, prodded at him, encouraging him.

“What’s my name?”

“Mr. Remington.”

“You can share information. Good. So, let’s go through some exercises.”

Moon went through the same dance as Sun–almost literally in some cases. He was jittery and didn’t like standing straight for long periods of time. He tended to hunch in on himself and stayed lower to their eye level. He shifted from foot to foot. But he kept his bells quiet. Moon didn’t jump onto the ceiling beam.

“Later, we’ll teach you some lullabies, stories, songs, procedures, everything you need to know,” Mr. Remington reassured him. “But we don’t have that right here, right now.”

Moon asked, “Why can I not learn now?”

“We don’t have the things here,” Mr. Remington answered. “Now, I’ll turn the lights back on. We have one more test to do, okay?”

Moon nodded.

“Ms. Alabaster, please?”

The lights turned on.

Blue turned to yellow.

Sun stood up straight and shook its hands, jingling the bells on its wrists. “When are we going to be the Daycare Attendant?”

Mr. Remington chuckled. “Sooner rather than later, the higher ups hope. But whenever you’re ready.”

The far door opened.

Sun looked over Mr. Remington’s head curiously as a few people walked in wearing a mix of uniforms, including a delivery one. The delivery one was wheeling in an animatronic in the shape of a fuzzy purple rabbit. “…thought it gave them the creeps or something.”

“Everyone says that,” the engineer complained.

“Hey, Sun?” Mr. Remington asked. “They’re doing a delivery. Sometimes people outside the Pizzaplex buy endos. But that’s not part of your training.”

Sun stared at the rabbit as they crossed the room and then stopped near one of the doors. Moon stayed quiet as well.

“Hey? Are you responsive? Sun?” Mr. Remington stepped backward, toward the rabbit.

Rabbit, danger. Sun’s eyes glared a sharp shade of red. It let out a shrill wail. Every human entity in the room jumped and the person holding the Bonnie endoskeleton released their hold on the equipment. Sun tried to grab Mr. Remington and pull him back behind itself. However, it had just gotten its grip on the man when a powerful electric jolt seized Sun. Sun seized, released Mr. Remington, and collapsed. After a few seconds, its system went back online and it shot across the room with another alarm, not even bothering to get upright first. The engineers that came to help jumped back at his very sudden recovery. Well, if Mr. Remington wasn’t going to let Sun defend him, that was fine. Sun would just neutralize the threat before it could get to him.

The humans by the Bonnie endoskeleton scattered.

Sun shredded the velvety outer layer as he ripped out its internal mechanisms. Metal screeched on metal and wires snapped and fur ripped. Then, the lights went out. Sun twitched and ceased his assault but didn’t dare resist turning into Moon.

[NO CHILD LOCATED]

[THREAT REPORT UPDATED]

Moon released the balled-up servos and wires in one hand and safety latch in his other. Eyes still glowing red rather than turning to its natural blue, he leaped back between Bonnie and the engineers, his feet crunching on bits of metal and plastic. Though it was hard to really call what was before him Bonnie. The main body was still strapped to the dolly. Wires, gears, warped scraps, velvet, fluff, and plastic lay all over the ground around it. A jaw there, some fingers here. Its voice box and eyes lay past its feet. Bonnie’s mask lay face-down a few feet away.

Mr. Remington walked up beside him. “We have the threat under control, Moon. Thank you for your assistance. Stand down.”

Moon’s eyes flickered back to blue. It looked at Bonnie and then Mr. Remington and crouched lower and backed away until its feet no longer crunched over discarded plastic.

Mr. Remington asked, his voice perfectly neutral, “How do you feel, Moon?”

“My fingers have sustained some amount of damage,” Moon managed to answer. “Sun did not harm you. He was protecting you from the rabbit.”

Mr. Remington asked, “What would you have done about the rabbit?”

“I would have blocked off the rabbit’s route of escape and then call for security.”

“Why did Sun attack the rabbit?”

“He did not wish for it to harm you. Please do not harm him.”

Mr. Remington smiled. “I won’t hurt Sun. He was only trying to help. Come on, Moon. Let’s fix your fingers.”

Moon crouched lower. “You believe he is dangerous.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Mr. Remington soothed. “It was just a glitch. That’s what this process is about. Fixing glitches. We’re just going to need to tone down his processing a little bit and remove a lot of his security protocols. And… maybe do something about your shared memory while we’re at it. Perhaps we overwhelmed you. Too much, too fast. Perhaps you’re inherently incompatible with other animatronics. What did the rabbit do?”

Moon looked at his scratched fingers. “…I am unsure.”

[Find more of my notes on my Archive of Our Own version. But I've got a ton of headcanons I'm pulling from here. SB is unfortunately very Sci-Fi. :( Not a lot of fantastical remanent stuff, which is why I joined the FNaF community in the first place because I otherwise dislike horror. The only glamrock I don't have a kid for is Freddy because Glammike lmao]

[lovehotelreservation]

GETS THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM BECAUSE A BICH HAS BEEN TRAPPED IN THIS SEX NANDO’S FOR A WEEK !!! HEWWO WHO HAS DMS OPEN WITH GOD I NEED HELP WITH DEALING WITH VIRGINITY ROX LAGUNA

SOMETHING SOMETHING BJORK PAGAN POETRY YE OLDE DEMON/PRIESTESS AU THEMES OF DUB-CON/POSSESSIVENESS/GETTING YOINKED FOR LOVE INVOLVED PLS TAKE DISCRETION BEFORE READING FURTHER!!!

It was pitiful, truly.

The embodiment of hellfire reduced to flickering candlelight, a terrifying aura that at once horrified every single soul now tamed into submission. Long, silken strands of onyx and ruby shades spiraled into unkempt frays, the rich fabric of an ornate yukata reminiscent of the spring night having lost its luster, all while a physique that was simply so vast in muscular build and height was caged down to a stone stool by the work of heavy iron chains and golden rope, all plastered with countless ofuda that were inscribed with prayers for heaven’s protection.

Villain.

Monster.

Demon.

At long last, the shamelessly vile entity that was Vox Akuma was successfully captured by the land’s mightiest warriors as commanded by the emperor and ordained by the head temple. Proclaimed to be the cause of every disaster, the silver-tongued advisor to all invading nations, a glutinous beast who fancied himself to any pure-hearted soul to be part of his harem, the mere utterance of his name sent any and all into a tremble.

And in a matter of hours, he was to be subject to execution by public exorcism before the emperor, his high court, and the public masses–a grand display of the gods’ triumph over evil.

Though, perhaps most pitiful of all was you in this very moment.

Scarlet heat across your cheeks, moans that became harder and harder to stifle back behind gritted teeth, nails sinking into whatever they could for purchase.

How utterly disgraceful of the head temple’s high priestess.

Yet here you were, right in Vox’s desolate cell deep beneath the nation’s head temple, seated upon his lap, your ceremonial garb shifted to allow just enough access for you to spear yourself onto his thick cock.

He was confined.

You were not.

But comparing his smug demeanor to your shameful fluster, one would think otherwise.

“I always knew you were the one who lived up to the standards of your order, darling~” His tongue snaked over his smirking lips as his golden serpentine eyes continued to admire the way your face stayed hidden against his shoulder. His voice, already sounding somewhat fatigued from how long he had been held captive, took on a huskier note as he purred, “Indulging the last request of a damned soul–there’s a place in heaven for you yet.”

Your nails dug further into his shoulders, piercing through the thinning fabric of his yukata as you turned to face him with a glare and a hiss. “Don’t patronize me. The world will be better off once we’re free from your presence.”

Vox was unfazed.

He was delighted.

Clicking his tongue, he simply shifted his hips up against yours sharply as you prepared to bounce down on his cock. His smirk widened from the squeal you let out in response. “Oh? Did I pinch a sweet little nerve of yours, angel?” The burning heat of his breath fanned against your ear while he brought his face closer to hum sweetly, “Are you still upset that the temple took so long to rescue you from my lair~? And I was so close to claiming your soul too–”

“Be quiet!”

Your hand slapped against his smug lips, your rhythm quickening in pace while your eyes immediately turned to the side, focusing your sight upon the countless paper slips of prayers for protection that were stuck onto one of the cell walls.

Your captivity wasn’t that long ago either, but gods did it feel like an eternity.

The memories of his clawed, talon-like nails teasingly trailing along your skin, his wicked whispered declarations to make you his, your body pressed so perfectly against his while he ravaged you in his chambers day after day, all while your mind fought valiantly to cling to the hope that the gods would bless you with rescue and salvation.

And they did.

Eventually.

But it was for that reason that you were now here, sickened with the burden of lingering desire that led you down to this lonely cell to indulge Vox and yourself just one more night together.

However, you of all people knew what the consequences of yielding to temptation would bring about.

You came to realize this by the large hand that suddenly came to grasp your wrist, plucking your hand away from Vox’s mouth.

“Now, is that any way to treat your god, my love?”

Heavy chains plummeted to the floor.

Thick ropes snapped with ease.

Prayer seals reduced to ash.

The scorch of your body heat melding with his was replaced by a striking chill as your eyes grew wide with horror and your movements came to a halt.

Yet before you could say or do anything else, your mouth was claimed by a hungry pair of lips as his big arms caged around your body, the two of you moving from the chair to you pinned right down beneath him to the cold stone floor. Near instantaneously, he was pounding and pummeling his cock into you without a shred of mercy or restraint, the sound of his thrusts ringing throughout the cell’s walls with every obscenely wet slaps.

By the time that Vox finally broke away from your kiss, you were gasping for air. Any attempts to escape was impossible, not with him effortlessly anchoring your body down with his own.

The same hand that once seized your wrist was now clutching at your chin, keeping your head in place so you had no choice but to stare right up at his face.

All signs of fatigue were gone. Save for his yukata, Vox was back to peak form. Flowing hair, radiant skin, and–most of all–an authoritative aura of arrogance fitting for a malevolent demon like him.

His thumb traced over your cheek as he mockingly cooed, “Oh, angel, angel–I thought you knew everything about me?” Continuing on, his tone took on an innocent inflection matched by the tilt of his head. “After all, what is the point of existence without the thrill of theatrics?” This was all in contrast to the mischievous glint in his eyes as he boasted, “Hell is my kingdom, my playground–you think I can be held down so easily by fancy paper scrawled with nonsense incantations?”

“Then what was the point of all this?!” You gasped, torn between humiliation and pleasure, your mind a blur of what had just transpired to your days of captivity in his abode and the current delightful rocking of his hips against yours.

Vox’s face lit up joyfully while his voice burned threateningly.

“To demonstrate to all in the world to never take what is rightfully mine.”

His thrusts picked up in pace, hammering into you over and over until your back was arching and your mouth parted in a silent scream upon orgasm, all while you could feel the scorching heat of his hot sticky cum flood inside your core.

While you soon fell back down onto the floor in a dazed heap, he was far from done. His cock still erect and hard, he simply continued to rut against you as he prepared to indulge himself to your body once more.

Vox brought his lips to your neck, eager to vandalize your skin yet again after so long away from you.

“My angel, my kindred, my goddess…” He moaned in drunken ecstasy. “What an absolute joy it will be for the audience gathering tomorrow to finally see the big bad Akuma finally be destroyed--” The corners of his lips broke into a wide and haughty grin. “--only to see their sweet and saintly priestess on all fours, begging for my cock and my seed.”

His arms squeezing around you tightly, he drew his head back away just enough to face you fully, the gleam in his eyes reflecting not arrogant pride, but an unbridled and wicked adoration.

“Come on then—let’s rehearse lots for tomorrow, shall we~ ♡?”

[lashton-is-my-drug]

5SOS Royal Albert Hall 'The Feeling of Falling Upwards' Fan Q&A

Luke and Ash (Lashton notes) during the Royal Albert Hall Fan Q & A Pre-show (Includes video)

- Luke is mostly focused on, staring at Ash, right from the very start and A LOT throughout (and not just staring, but it’s the way he’s staring at him a lot of the time).

- Laughing a lot at each others jokes, though that’s nothing new for them. Luke thinks Ash is the funniest person on the fucking planet (so adorable).

- A lot of the time there’s this tension between them, I don’t know how to class it (maybe its sexual but idk), but it’s easy to see if you focus on just them.

- Luke and Ash are wearing their matching onyx rings. Luke black onyx, Ash new blue sapphire ring which matches style of Ash’s matching black onyx one. (Blue sapphire = 5 year anniversary from when they lived together in 2017)

- Luke wearing his rainbow shirt. He started wearing it in Ireland on TMH tour, but he has worn it many times ever since. Meaning it wasn’t just for that occasion. It meant something.

- Luke, as Ash is intro’ing the show, remarks about Ash having his “soft voice on”, then (what seems like to appease to Luke’s comment) keeps talking in that same soft voice, then after a couple sentences Ash clears his throat to bring himself back to the matter at hand of intro’ing the show. (10:37)

- Luke brings up yet again about the band being like a marriage. (There’s interviews that the guys say that the band comes first even before women. This sentiment has been brought up for years and years now. There’s a specific interview where Luke and Ash say they prioritize 1. Band, 2. Family 3. The gfs, Luke is quick to say band always comes first when you’re in a relationship. Ash even talks about celebrating his sisters birthday instead of the “lady he sees” when they happened at the same time. There’s something about how he says “I see this lady” like he could've just as well talking about his hairdresser or something LOL, there’s a Zach Sang one where Luke says the home life suffers a bit)

- (4:40) Luke holds himself back from making a joke, apparently not suitable for the livestream, about being open in the studio, Ash immediately starts to laugh.

- (6:30) Ash reads a question about what should be a first dance wedding song. Luke immediately interrupts before Ash can answer by saying “ bad omens”, then Ash in a soft way says “dude get out of my way here” and they proceed to giggle. Then Luke says it’s “something we have to work on later”. So, think back to Luke’s comment about marriage just moments before), Ash “this is my headspace”. (7:10) Then Ash gives the answer of “Older” with a stutter, then Michael laughs as it feels a bit awkward, so then Ash quickly moves on to next question, throwing to VT.

- Michael says the message they want to get across for this album is “the relationship between the four of us, and the feeling of falling upwards”. The album is about them/5SOS. (My note: "Complete Mess" originated as a romantic song, but then the mv showed the dynamic between each of them).

- (13:00) Fan question about listening to songs for the first time. Luke says “the first time you listen back, you dim the lights, or maybe you’re in Ashton’s convertible, thats a nice feeling too” *Ash goes quiet and looks down to the floor* Luke continues on, “If we’re all together we dim the lights and it feels triumphant.” This insinuates that Luke and Ash listen to songs together, just the two of them for the first time in Ash’s convertible. It’s a separate thing than with all the band together.

(14:00) Calum remarks about believing everything that he’s told. Ash’s sarcastic remark of “that’s the spirit” with a head shake. (This insinuates there could be narratives being told to him. Or, he's just plain mocking how the general public and the fans believes things that they're told, without question.)

- Answering question about being “the masters of friendship”… Michael teases like a bff would that Luke is still learning to.

- (15:37) Fan question about how the band is so good at friendship and calls them “masters of friendship”. Calum says “relationship or friendship” at the beginning of his answer, when the question they were asked was about friendships.

- Luke saying towards Ash “just pictured you walking up to you” after Ash answers the question of what he would tell his younger self. The guys would take the blue line, then the red line which brought them to Hyde Park (across the street from RAH). On the album there’s a song called “Red Line” which is the train route they would take, while living in London, to go to songwriting sessions. Also, this reminds me about the train they all ride in the “Old Me” music video.

- (23:00) Luke’s favorite lyric answer from the album “I like the ashtray one in Take My Hand, I like the cocaine colored wedding dress in Older” then looks over at Ash. (The lyric in “Old Me” that has the double meaning of Ashes/Ash is, the 5sos twitter account RT’d fanart which made the same connection, by making Ash’s face onto an ashtray). Ash’s answer to fave line is “mine is, I’m still making sense of having nothing left to save… ouch”. Calum’s line as he’s looking at Ash like Ash probably wrote it “beautiful moment in time, it comes and goes in waves, and when I open my eyes, I hope I see your face”, during that line Ash does a surfing type motion. There’s a history of Luke and Ash learning to surf together and posting their surfing dates and Luke quoting Ash to his post when Ash doesn’t go with him on a surfing trip “looks like he can surf but he cannot.” That’s what popped into my mind.

- Fan Question: “What has been your biggest challenge as a band. Have you been able to overcome that challenge? If so, how?”

Ash answer is first ribbing on Calum’s bass playing then switching to complimenting his playing, like a bandmate bff does. “Biggest challenge for me is, as life moves on and gets more complicated, it gets harder to see what we naturally were at the beginning. *looks over at Luke* as we get further and further away so the challenge is to re-meet our childlike selves that involve ourselves with 5 seconds of summer and reattach to that beauty and simplicity. Do that all the time” Luke “that’s a great answer man”.

- Luke “we’re gonna throw to VT, I gotcha” Ash “gotcha”

- Fan question: “If you could chose one really memorable and defining moment over the last 10 years, that has really struck you artistically or personally, what would it be?”

Michael “My answer would probably be our first trip writing this, the second trip was great but the first was really great. That stands out to me a lot” *Luke nodding*. “An amazing time just making the 10 year anniversary thing, was amazing. Everything leading up to this show would be memorable to me. And pretty awesome.”

Luke “so you're saying recent stuff”

Michael “yeah, yeah, I think I’m more of a recent brain.”

Ash “I’m with you. It definitely seems like things are getting better all the time. *looks at Luke* its amazing”

“Luke and Ash deep in staring at each other*

Luke to Ash “Thats what we said in Carry On”

Ash’s very soft voice with a meaningful smile to Luke while reassuring “yeah… yeah”. 🥰

- At the end when they are figuring out where to throw to (aka what's next).

Ash “I think we throw to us on stage”

Luke “That’s a great throw” (pick someone supportive)

(I'm including this just for fun lol )

Ash “And if youre lucky, you might see Calum’s pajamas”

Ash doing a throwback to the earlier silly conversation.

[sannflwrr]

The Third Sin

Author: sannflwrr

Pairing: Hoseok x MC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mid profanities (?), angst (per usual), mentions of drug use and alcoholism (don’t do drugs)

Summary: When the entire world has eyes on him, he only sees her.

a/n: BAHAHAHA SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. um i was in my feels while writing this one, definitely inspired by ‘everybody’s watching me (uh oh)’ by the nbhd hehehe. moodboard credits go to the amazing @aprilisque​ she’s such a talent i love her. this is for u like usual, april. i hope u enjoy it :) i tried dabbling more into the narration aspect, so its different from usual :D 

He’s an embodiment of the third sin. Anyone who takes one look at Jung Hoseok can deduce what I mean by it, he drips with sultry onyx, face carved like a Pygmalion sculpture, body long and lean. Black always looks the best on him, which I tell him often, because it’s dangerous and makes his followers go wild. It matches the dark, untamed look in his eyes. They blaze with an attractive raggedness when he performs, and the rawness of it screams sex. Most of his fans would die for a chance to lay in bed with him. 

Most of his music embodies this crazed lust his fans have over him. How he can passionately make love to whoever would give him the chance — the irony of it is that anyone would — Hoseok has the ability to draw heads wherever he walks. He carries himself like a proud raven, neck held back, shoulders relaxed. Hoseok doesn’t have much of a reaction to the obscene images he receives from fans. I once had to call security on a girl who threw her bra at him. Later that same night, someone flashed him when he went to the back entrance of the venue for pictures. For someone who is so characteristically known to brand their horni-ness, he’s strangely impartial to all of it, and continues to drive fans wild with his casual grins in the chaos. Maybe he thrives off of it. I never tried to understand his nuances too much, considering we’re just coworkers, and I’m just one of his several managers. 

Of the three managers he has, I’m the only woman. I try my best to stay extremely professional around him in particular, he’s got a huge reputation surrounding him that I cannot afford to get involved with. The others that also partake in his behind the scenes I find myself a lot more comfortable with than myself. It’s been a year at this job, I guess I can say he still intimidates me. I have no insecurities at my own ability, because I know I can do my job well, which is why his success is off the charts as of late…it’s just the artist himself, he scares me a little.

I can’t figure out whether it’s a strange form of admiration, that he seems desensitized to the immense amount of fame that surrounds him. I know he’s far from the perfect image both myself and the other managers keep set up for him, Hoseok usually smokes a joint before every performance, and he has a bit of a drinking problem. I know he tends to have a roster of men and women alike, that of which he calls back after every one of his gigs. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to live such a life where he’s constantly on display. I know I help in creating that strange daymare for him, but I can’t do anything else except keep at it. It’s his job and mine too. 

Out of the three though, I can say I’m the manager that is the most concerned for his own mental state. I don't make it very obvious, and I’m not sure whether Hoseok cares for the concern, which is why I don’t bother to voice it either.

Most days, when he’s passed out in the hotel bathroom, my days with him begin by shaking the man awake and packing up his belongings for him. Hoseok usually mumbles something about how he feels like a piece of shit for watching me clean after him. It’s routine, he says it every time so I never expect him to change. It’s my job anyways. 

Sometimes, I end up having to kick someone out of his room. On occasion, a girl will try to fight me for making her leave. Hoseok is usually faded out of his mind, so he watches with a plastered stare. On one instance I rolled a punch into a girl’s face when she tried to call me his whore. He apologizes every time I have to put myself into that situation, cleaning up after his post-hook-up problems. It never changes, so I don’t say much to assuage him. This is my job anyways. 

He doesn’t smoke around me, he did in the original couple months of us working together, but soon stopped when I told him in passing I strongly dislike men who smoke. It hadn’t been a charged statement at him, somewhere along the late night studio sessions, he had asked me what my preferences were in people. It didn’t have to be romantic, could even be platonic. So, to humor him in the idle hours, I told him about an old friend with a smoking problem. We stopped talking because the days sober were few in number, and they began to only use me for cash for the next hit. The memories of cigarettes are never happy, so I can’t associate it with anything good. Hoseok has some kindness in him, and I underestimate him by saying that, because I know deep down, he’s an alright guy, just messed up in the head because of the spotlight constantly shining around him. I like the small acts he shows towards me, especially when he’s not apologizing all the time.

I can’t exactly remember where in the months that the job felt less like a job, and more like something I was supposed to do. 

He’s asked me to drink a couple times with him, seeing that he has no real friends within the celebrity world that have no other motive other than to market themselves, I usually agree. And I notice he smiles a lot more when it’s just the two of us, sitting in my simple living room, with bottles of Tito’s littered around us. I tend to cap off his drinking amount, usually I’m so used to cleaning up after him when he blacks out during touring days that I would rather not have fo do it when I’m off the clock. This is when I suspect he started to treat me like a friend. I made myself approachable to him, which originally had not been the intent. I guess this is where my job became less of a job, and I was fine with him telling me about his problems. 

Despite being such a partier, he seems to enjoy the quiet hours just as much. I can’t count how many times he’s slept in my living room, claiming it gives him so much more serenity than his house does. And I can’t help but feel sad when he says that, so much money and wealth to buy him an amazing place and yet it doesn’t give him what he wants. 

Later, he begins to complain that he hardly knows a thing about me. 

Apparently he can count on his fingers how much he knows. Hoseok says I’m his manager, I don’t like guys who smoke, and I can throw a good punch. I suppose I’m incredibly impartial too, he adds in when I’m spreading Febreeze in his place fo get rid of the weed smell that stinks up his living room. I never once complain about his drug use, despite saying once that I don’t like it. I told him it’s in my job description to act the way I am. 

His next song is called Geraldine. Hoseok is known for writing a majority of his music, and this one has a very clear intent about it. On the outside, the lyrics seem very superficially sexual, but I see through the true intent with the lyricism that he doesn’t tell the press. Geraldine isn’t a love song, it’s about his distant yet not-so-distant manager who doesn’t tell him what goes on in her life even though he feels like they’re friends. I almost laughed when I heard the unpolished version. He’s upset with me, but has an extremely odd way of showing it. 

To make up for it, the following day after release, I manage to fit in a trip to my favorite halal place. Hoseok assumed it was just part of his schedule to find somewhere to eat, but that changes when I tell him this is one of my favorite places to eat at. I don't see the immediate reaction in his face, but something in his dark eyes change. I know that he understood what I meant by bringing him here. Opening up doesn’t come easy for me regardless, I’m much more reserved than he is, and it’s even harder in a professional setting. I think he starts to understand that after this. 

Somewhere, the lines shift from that to a friend. 

I catch less people in his bedroom as the days pass. He still smokes, in fact, it increases the more he’s stuck in the studio — apparently it helps with creativity — but the people stop coming in and out of his room. Hoseok still likes to sleep in my living room from time to time, his place has a much better view than mine, yet he likes to claim mine is easier on the eyes. On one particular evening, I teach him how to make lasagna. I can see he’s stretching himself thin, constantly overworking himself by pouring his soul out in the studio yet still trying to visit whenever I clock out. I tell him to pick one, and that he should pick the studio. 

He listens to me, like any considerate friend would. He listens because I am his manager, and he listens because he trusts me enough to know that I have his best intentions. For the entirety of this, I did. When he stopped drinking at my place, when I stopped catching him asleep on my couch in the early morning, when I realized that the nights feel more empty in my place when he’s busy recording…I realized somewhere along the lines, things had shifted. For the first time, I had felt something selfish when it came to him. 

I saw him everyday through work and it wasn’t the same. Because work was work, and my apartment created this space for us that was entirely different. Work would never come close to that, which is when I realized that he had crawled through the walls my timidness and lack of social skills created and found a spot in my heart. I, found myself missing the embodiment of the third sin. The King of Lust, Jung Hoseok. 

As a manager, I’m pleased he’s spending so much time at the studio. In the production aspect I’m well aware that they’re brewing up an amazing full-length album that has potential to be one of his best by far. Even as a friend, I’m immensely happy that he’s got so much going for him in his career, but part of me also misses the late hours we would spend…well anywhere. 

One night out of nowhere, the loneliness a usual, he appears at my door, fumbling in with a grin and giggles, words spilling out of his mouth about the music, the lyrics, the production, everything of which he is so excited over. Most of it I know, because most of it I arranged, but that doesn’t stop him from repeating it again and again to me, talking about how his album is finally falling into place. His joy is shared with me, when he is happy, I am as well, because his success matters the same to him and I alike. Hearing the utter excitement ooze from his words, his demeaned, the way he settles onto the couch in the most familiar way after months of not, it makes my heart lurch. 

So I asked him when a pause of silence enveloped us. Why he came to me rather than anyone else. 

I know there’s something about his response to me which was true, but not completely at the same time. That I was one of the closest people to him right now, that I share the same wants for him, that I have all the good intentions. That in the end, I’m the only one in the staff that really cares about how he feels at the end of the day. He says all this with words, but his eyes seem to tell me something completely different. I choose to focus on his words, the verbal statement, because the implicit one…it’s scarier and treads on a line that I never expected to cross. 

He releases another song, as a pre-single to the album, now nearly finished. About a woman, a person in his life. Somehow within the buzz and blaze in his chaotic star-filled life, it always feels like he’s chasing the woman behind the spotlight. The one organizing the lights, the one pulling the entire show together. At least, that’s the real meaning behind the lyrics. To the press, he tells them some farce of an excuse that the song means constantly chasing for something always out of reach. He knows that I know what the song is about. 

That’s the complicated thing about this. His eyes are always on me whenever I enter the room. He seems to linger more on my words than anyone else’s. It’s been my job to follow after him, so this was always natural for me, watching him mimic me on myself…felt so weird. He doesn’t seem to cross the line, he never does anything out of the professional or platonic box, yet he somehow makes what he wants so clear without others seeing. 

It’s really a shame though. 

A man with that much fame…his perception of love is so fucked up. 

He is that of the third sin. Embodying it so well and for so long, it’s leaked into his thoughts. I know there is a very clear distinction between love and lust. 

And whether he loves me…that remains a mystery. 

[theonceoverthinker]

500. As this daily series of mine comes to an end, I just want to reflect on all the MARRY time writing Fair Game HCs has brought me!

I’m freezing up as I’m trying to write even just this intro. I don’t feel ready. After a year and a half, how can I feel anything else? This series is now a part of me and ending it is like losing a piece of my soul. I have so many emotions -- too many emotions -- it doesn’t feel wrong to end the series here (The 500 milestone makes sense), but it hurts all the same.

Let me start with thank you to everyone whose read these. Seriously, I know I thank you occasionally, but I can’t do it enough. Knowing that there are people interested in what I write and think about these two and enjoy the happier life I’m paining them in the absence of canon just makes me feel so much less alone than usual. It means the world to me so please believe me when I say that I wouldn’t have gotten to 500 without each and every one of you, whether you were here from the beginning or just joined in whenever. 

I’m so happy to have finally reached this moment, but simultaneously so torn up about what that means.

Will I never do another Fair Game HC again? HECK NO! While the regular daily episodes are ending, if I find another topic that I want to Fair Game-i-fy, I will definitely make more episodes, and hopefully, before long, I will! I just need to take a break from the daily updates. I’ve hit burnout several times over the past year and a half and it’s not fun, so while I still have some energy to spare, I want to end the daily series on a high note!

Also, forgive me because I’m gonna cheat this as a submission for @fairgameweek2021 while I’m at it (If it’s not cool, then my apologies). The theme today is Charms/Dreams and while neither of these come up in the HC itself, this wedding and this series as a whole I think acts as a reflection of the dreams much of the Fair Game fandom had for this ship. 

When I say this, I don’t mean it in the sense of I’d be upset if not each and every one of these didn’t come true -- that’s never been what my love for Fair Game was about, nor that each and every Fair Game fan subscribes to these HCs (Good GOD, no -- not even close). Like many fans, I just wanted these two characters who deserved happiness (Especially Qrow given his almost unreal amount of trauma and hardships) and seemed like they’d finally found it with each other to get exactly that. So in the absence of canon, I hope people were able to take solace in this space and live in the daydreams I created for them here.

So here we are at long last: The Fair Game Wedding. If you want to follow the story thus far, you can check out my HC compilation page. I’ve highlighted all of the wedding HCs in green, and have fully caught up the HC list!

That said, if you don’t feel like reading all of them and just want to check out this last one, here’s the tldr for what you need to know: The wedding is taking place in the Amity communications tower (This HC series only follows canon until 7X11 for those who didn’t know because I only choose to acknowledge good writing (especially for Qrow and Clover) here), Tai is Qrow’s Best Man, Marrow is Clover’s Best Man, Robyn is officiating, Ruby’s walking Qrow down the aisle, Yang’s walking Clover down the aisle, Clover got Qrow a silver ring with four tiny encrusted emeralds, Qrow got Clover a dark ring with four tiny encrusted rubies, Qrow’s wearing an onyx tux with a white undershirt and a crimson bowtie and handkerchief, and Clover’s wearing a black tux with a white undershirt and a dark green bowtie and handkerchief. 

Okay! We’re good to go!

Well, for the last regularly-scheduled time, let’s get to it!

HC under the cut!

“Uncle Qrow! Help! We can’t find your shoes!”

Ruby’s cry is what wakes Qrow up.

What a way to start the day. He hasn’t even had coffee or breakfast yet and he’s already been tasked with finding his wedding shoes. Give him a break.

It then comes to attention that this is his wedding day. By the time he goes to bed, he and Clover will be married. 

His crankiness at being woken up and put to work so quickly doesn’t fully evaporate, but a lot of it does all the same. 

And as Qrow starts searching his temporary room to find his shoes, he can’t help but take note of the bubbling happiness under him.

()()()()()()()()()()()

It feels so weird to Clover to wake up in the Ace Ops’ suite. He’s stopped by from time to time since leaving the Atlesian Army, especially as he’s been planning his wedding, but staying over feels simultaneously nostalgic and bizarre. 

Mostly though, the odd feeling is one that stems from not waking up beside Qrow. It’s not that they haven’t slept apart, but whenever they have outside of their bachelor parties, it’s been for a mission.

Well, in all fairness, today’s at once a party and a mission, and by the end of it, he and Qrow will be back sleeping right beside each other.

Clover can just barely stand the wait.

()()()()()()()()()()

The alter is beautiful. The whites and browns and red and greens come together so nicely. 

In an interesting surprise touch, Harbinger in its scythe form and Kingfisher in its rod form are tastefully placed right next to Tai and Marrow respectively. And on top of their handles, Qrow and Clover’s respective rings rest safely on each of their handles.

They’re both impressed, more so that their weapons were somehow sneak out and brought all the way to the communications tower without either’s knowledge.

Clover’s the first to arrive at Amity Tower. Tai and Marrow organized how Qrow and Clover would check in on things so they wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. Though Clover found the superstition banal, he decides not to make a fuss about it today, not when there are more important things going on.

The sweet smell of flowers greets his nose. They’re all laid out so nicely, and possibly even more so in the reception hall. Clover looks to his and Qrow’s table, and then to his pants.

Marrow gave him back his phone this morning, and with Marrow temporarily busy in the bathroom, Clover sends Qrow a quick text before he returns.

Clover: Everything looks perfect up here, but I bet you’ll look even better. See you soon. ;) 

Qrow arrives a bit later than expected...which for him was anything but unexpected. Between finding his shoes, Tai insisting on ironing his suit (”I swear, there was a wrinkle on it this morning!), making sure he got a good meal in him, cramming everyone into Tai’s car, and dealing with traffic, it’s amazing they got there when they did.

By the time Qrow gets there, the caterers are starting to arrive and their cake is on its way over, too!

Though Qrow initially felt his scroll buzz in the car, he’s unable to look at it until now. He sees Clover’s text in between the tons of congratulations messages, and smiles.

He’s such a dork.

But he’s Qrow’s dork.

Qrow: You know it. ;) See you soon.

Far too much time is spent for either of their taste’s getting into their suits and going over their entrances and everything (Though given how their rehearsal went, neither can be too annoyed).

Both meet their respective halves of the wedding party and soon enough...it’s time.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Robyn’s the first to enter. She has a basic script in her hand, but everyone knows she’s gonna do some ad-libbing and are excited for it.

Qrow walks down the aisle first with Ruby. The whole time, he can’t but hold his breath behind his smile, worried he might trip. Ruby, who can now fully tell how her uncle operates, holds his arm tighter and more supportively. Qrow would be lying if he said it didn’t help. Upon reaching the front, Ruby gives Qrow a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before leaving his side.

After he arrives, the two sets of groomsmen enter side-by-side: Marrow and Tai, Elm and Port, Vine and Oobleck, and Harriet and Theodore (Yeah, I know basically nothing about Theodore, but I realized my numbers for Qrow’s groomsmen didn’t add up to Clover’s, and I hear the two of them got along, so we’re doing this!).

Once they’re in position, Clover enters with Yang. Clover, like Yang, holds his breath, but for a different reason. Qrow looks so impossibly good in his suit, and he can tell Qrow really likes how he looks, too. Like Ruby with Qrow, before leaving to join her sister, Yang gives Clover a hug and cheek kiss, but also a nice pat on the shoulder and a wish for “good luck.” Clover loves the sensation.

Clover whispers under his breath that Qrow looks amazing. Qrow thanks him, throwing a wink at Clover. Clover looks as stunned by it as Qrow did when he did it the first time.

Ceremony stuff happens, and then we get to the vows!

Robyn signals for Qrow to go first. He nods at her and begins.

“Clover,” Qrow says. “I want to say something to you, something that I never thought I would, especially here of all places, but something that feels like it should be said all the same. ...Here it goes. Clover, we don’t have to get married.” 

There’s a pause as everyone watching gasps. Clover is the only one who doesn’t, though he does raise and eyebrow. Qrow maintains eye contact with him and continues.

“It’s true,” he says. “We know we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives. I’m not leaving you, you’re not leaving me, and once this is all over, we’re going to go right back to the same home we’ve spent years building together to build even more of it for as long as we can. We’ll get up, make breakfast and coffee, work, come home, watch TV, and go to bed. Maybe we’ll do different things on the weekends with Tai and the kids, or maybe we’ll just relax on the couch with a movie. So no, we don’t need to get married...but that’s exactly why I want to.”

The sighs of relief are close to deafening, and expecting that, Qrow takes another pause. Clover’s smile is beautiful, not beaming of exceedingly large, but radiant as it has ever been. Qrow hopes that whoever their planner organized to record their wedding captures it because it’s a smiles Qrow imagines he’ll want to look at over and over again.

“It’s exactly because we don’t need to throw a ceremony or a big party to show the world we love each other that makes me want to do just that,” Qrow continues. “A love like what we have, one that’s special because of all the things that don’t make it special just as much as all of the things that do, well to me, that’s a love worth celebrating. I love you, Clover, and I love the fact that being here with you gives me another chance to celebrate how we feel, how far we’ve come, and how much further we’ll go.”

There are tears in the corners of Clover’s eyes threatening to fall any second. Qrow feels that his own are on the verge of doing the same.

Clover pull him in for a hug. They know it’s not what they’re supposed to do, but it feels right and that’s all that matters. It lasts for ten seconds before they finally pull back.

Robyn’s looking at them jokingly. 

“You know you’re not supposed to do that yet, right?”

“Eh,” Qrow says, shrugging with a smirk on his face. “We’re unconventional.”

“Except when we’re not,” Clover chimes in, winking at Qrow over the joke.

Robyn, smiling all the while, rolls her eyes.

“Clover, it’s your turn,” she says. The two exchange nods and then Clover turns to Qrow. 

“Qrow,” he starts, “I definitely saw my life differently before I met you. I was an Atlesian Military Captain of the kingdom’s strongest group of Huntsmen, likely to stay just where I was until I retired or died in combat. That’s what I saw for myself, and that’s all I saw for myself. In that life, I didn’t see a home, I didn’t see a family, and I never saw someone I loved so much that I’d leave everything I thought I knew behind just to stand by his side. But once I met you and the kids, I began to see all sorts of things that I’d never considered for myself before -- all of those things I just listed and more. That’s the life we’ve had together so far -- deep, kind, strange, fun, sometimes a bit mundane but also beautiful because of it. I’ve got to tell you, Qrow, I can’t think of anything luckier happening to me in my entire life than finding you.”

Qrow snorts. It’s not an interruption, but Clover can’t help but comment on it. 

“I guess you saw that coming?” Clover jokes. 

“Maybe a bit.”

“Fair enough. Well, I don’t need to tell you that with semblances like ours, luck’s always been a special thing between us. Misfortune and Good Fortune just have a way of being part of our lives, no matter what we think or plan or want. We’ve talked before about how they counter each other or why one might be more powerful than the other on any given day, but while luck might have been what brought us together as partners initially and it certainly is part of us, it’s not all of us. Luck has some interesting perks, both good and bad alike -- it can make a day or even week better or worse -- but it can’t get either of us what we have together nor take it away. Luck doesn’t earn me the sight of that gleam in your eyes when I bring you a bowl of noodles just the way you like or that smile of yours when I tell you tell you a joke. Luck helps us live our lives, but we do the rest, and I think we do a pretty good job living it together, and I can’t wait to keep on doing it with you for the rest of our lives.”

A good number of the attendants make an “awwww” sound at the end of Clover’s vows. Qrow’s tempted to make fun of it, but abstains.

Robyn nods at the conclusion of her vows. Tai and Marrow collect the rings for Qrow and Clover from off of the weapons and bring them to them. Robyn then turns to Clover.

“Clover Ebi,” she says. “Do you take this man, Qrow Branwen, to be your lawfully-wedded husband -- to love, cherish, and grow with him in sickness and in health and for better or worse as long as you both shall live?”

Clover’s smile is present. It doesn’t get bigger, but it gets deeper. 

“I do,” he says. Qrow takes Clover’s ring and slides it easily onto Clover’s finger.

Robyn turns to Qrow.

“And Qrow Branwen,” she continues. “Do you take this man, Clover Ebi, to be your lawfully-wedded husband -- to love, cherish, and grow with him in sickness and in health and for better or worse as long as you both shall live?”

Qrow’s smile stays the same -- relaxed, easy, and so utterly content. Despite seeing it hundreds of times by now, it still looks so beautiful to Clover...especially when he says the next two words.

“I do.”

Qrow extends out his hand, and Clover, with the ring he got him, slides it down Qrow’s flawless finger effortlessly.

Robyn’s smile grows.

“Then by the power vested in me by the Kingdom of Solitas and the land of Remnant, I now declare you husbands. You may now kiss.”

Qrow and Clover have kissed more times than they can possibly count.

But by the time Robyn declares them married, they’re starving to feel each other’s kisses again. Cupping each other’s cheeks, Qrow and Clover share their first kiss as a married couple.

Everyone cheers. A quarter of the room cheers through their tears.

Finally, they’re married.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Qrow and Clover get a small break to themselves before they enter the reception. They spend much of it standing and sitting close together, kissing, telling the Qrow and Clover equivalent of sweet nothings to each other, and talking about what their previous night and this morning were like. It’s kind, relaxed, and happy -- so, so happy.

The reception’s amazing. Between awesome food, “the world’s best cocktail hour” (Qrow and Clover’s words, not mine), a good DJ, heartwarming (and a little embarrassing) speeches, gorgeous decorations, cool party favors, and a beautiful and loving first dance, everyone has an amazing time.

At some point, Qrow and Clover find themselves able to sneak out of their own reception for a break (Qrow especially needs one, but Clover’s not about to pretend he’s not at least a little tired either). There’s a small empty balcony right in front of the moon. Clover loops his arm around Qrow’s shoulders and settles it on the left one.

Clover takes a deep breath through his nose and Qrow can feel his hairs bounce up and down with it.

“Smell something you like?” Qrow teases.

“More like someone. And I can’t wait to keep smelling him.”

They relax in the quiet for a bit. Qrow snuggles into Clover’s side as the gentle wind embraces their forms wherever it can.

“We’re married,” Clover finally says, said as if he’s just realized it for the first time. 

It must be the tenth time today he’s done so since the ceremony.

Qrow hasn’t gotten even remotely sick of hearing it.

“We’re married,” he repeats. 

Clover releases a rumbling chuckle, then kisses Qrow’s upper right temple. Qrow presses his lips to Clover’s hand. It’s not a kiss, per se, but it lingers delicately on his hand.

They stay for a couple more minutes before deciding that they should probably return to their party.

The rest of the party is so nice. Friends and family party and dance the night away with the gorgeous night sky all around them for hours.

The cleanup is exhausting and despite loving their wedding planner from the moment they hired her, Qrow and Clover have never been more grateful for her services than where she says they can head out and that she would finish up the rest of the work and text them (”Tomorrow afternoon. You guys are gonna need some shut eye.”).

It takes Qrow and Clover about an hour to get home. Clover drives once they’re on solid ground again. In the car, neither talk much, content to sit and enjoy the drive home in a comfortable quiet, save for the occasional joke and “We’re married” statement.

When they’re finally home, they stop at the door. After all, who’s going to carry who over the threshold? 

They compromise. Kissing each other’s face all the way, Qrow carries Clover through their front door, and Clover carries Qrow through their bedroom door onto a...very fun wedding night (Which I’m gonna let you all imagine for yourself because I have literally been writing this all day and writing about sex is kind of tough for me when I’m at my best).

When they’re at last ready to go to sleep, Qrow and Clover cuddle close and give each other a final loving look before falling asleep in each other’s arms, blissfully together tonight and for decades worth of them to come, just as they deserve. I don’t even know what to say now that we’re here at the end. I think I said it here earlier, but it bears repeating: I love you all and thank you so much for following these Fair Game HCs.

Tagging @skybird13 @whipped4qrow @mooksie01 @luck-of-the-caw @xwildangel @solitude-of-stars-deactivated20 @vastnessofthespiral @o0nashipear0o @unfairgamey @doctorrwby @clover-and-co @megan-atthedisco @wash-my-brain @bisexualdisasterqrow @thursdayseraph @doubledexterity @rwby-things-i-guess @atlas-heartthrob @the-answer-was-bi-klance @compoterie @thuskindlyiboop @oceansquid @transdemion @deltastream21 @mimiori @xya-hunter @dinosaurs-last-day @roman-torchtwink @subatomictealeaves @drbtinglecannon @saphiralunaris @pretentiouskneecaps @amxngsthxmans @ayomez13 @carbonated-table-spices @darkestsiren @chaosgameingkoi @collectingsparechangemadeeasy @michaels-daughter2005 @youmaywanttoduck @lovethewitchofendor @victorious1956 @spence0112 @madamoisellesica @ju-ka-mc-24

Want to be tagged in future Fair Game HC’s (Or untagged, I understand) and be the first to catch all of the romance, fluff, drama, and puns (Sometimes all at the same time)? Send me a reply, PM, or ask, and it shall be done!

Would you also like to check out my old Fair Game HC’s? Who wouldn’t? Well, here’s a link to my Fair Game HC archives!!!!

[shesawriter39049]

|UNWRAP ME|M|

CHEEKY SNEAK PEEK #2

Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)

“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”

About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!

Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....

WC: Sneak peek (1k)

WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking

FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?

*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!

*I’m a perfectionist and re-worked the entire smut scene which is why the post is late, I felt bad and decided to drop this cheeky little sneak peek!

______________________________________________________

“You can do this shit in your sleep, this was just a curveball you weren’t expecting so it knocked you off your square a little. There’s nothing wrong with that, it doesn’t make you any less capable of doing your job!” The words hushed off your lips as you started to leave little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. Lacing your lips and teeth around the lobe just enough to tease. A sharp breath catches in his chest, as he reclines his neck to give you more room to work while his palm flexed against your ass. Welcoming the much needed distraction “We got this, you just need to step back, breathe...regroup and refocus.”

You watch his mouth open in protest and now it’s your turn to shut him up “So, we’re down two models shit sucks, but dwelling on it won’t suddenly make their test results change! So now what’s our next move? Business strategy 101 baby let’s go!“ There’s a blatant challenge within your delivery!

“But I -“

“Jimin. Park!” The grip you hold on the hair at the nape of his neck tightens until you hear him hiss! Eyes fighting to stay open, mouth parting reflectivity. ”Breath, regroup...and refocus...”

He sighs around a moan, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s annoyed. Realizing it’s a lost cause because he knows damn well this isn’t a game he can win. “Yes, ma’am” There’s a whole lotta crass  laced within that but you’ll take it I guess!

“Thank you!” Responding with the same bitchy little attitude you received! It is the time of year for giving after all! Batting your lashes up in his direction, far too innocent for your attitude! Pressing a couple quick but firm kiss to those pouty lips of his!

“Right, well, in the office, we get various incentives as motivation right? Whether that be gift cards, free dinners, bonuses..” Jimin murmurs right into your mouth, though the topic seems casual his voice is lower, taunting and huskier than usual. “So what’s mine tonight Mrs. Kim Hmm? Breath fanning against your lips, almost able to taste the remnants of liquor and cinnamon on your tongue. “What do I get as an incentive to regroup and refocus?”

Ohhh so now he’s the one challenging you...and your always down to play ....

Reaching over to take a languid sip of your cocktail, finger's trickling down his thighs as you appraise him from over the brim of your glass.

“Well Mr. Park, I'm sure you're very much aware just by looking around the room that one of my main love languages is gifts! Whether that be giving or receiving…..’ Voice dropping down to a purr, and there’s a little smirk playing on your lips that’s speaking volumes, as you shift off his lap....standing between his thighs, placing your drink aside.

“Not to mention it is that time of year after all is it not?” Slowly, tugging the shirt over your head, spine sitting in an exaggerated arch as you do so! Showcasing a matching red bra that’s completely mesh! The faint shadows from your nipples poking through the fabric and Jimin’s breath hitches within his throat! “Time for giving, putting others first, being selfless...the full nine…”

“Yeah” He’s winded already....Tongue darting out to wet his lips, though his throats suddenly what’s feeling painfully dry!

Delicately roaming your hands up your frame. Starting at your waist, slowly venturing up to caress the swell of your breast, dipping over your shoulders. Trickling up the side of your neck, and ending with your fingers tangled within your hair.

“Fucking hell….baby…” He whispers low and thick, almost as if he really wasn’t speaking for you to hear, as if he was just simply enamored!

You hum approvingly, lips curling into a smirk, teasingly trickling your hands down your sides before turning around whipping your hair over your shoulder in the process, swaying towards the obnoxious 10ft tall Christmas tree placed right in front of your wall of windows and Jimin’s mouth runs dry!

“I don’t know if you’ve even noticed all the presents Santa's already left for us this year….I guess we must’ve been exceptionally nice or something!”Pointing to the various wrapped boxes cascaded along the ground and your delivery is far too innocent for the pure chaos your erupting within this room right now!

Jimin’s gaze instantly darkens and it’s straight primal, he wants to unravel you in every sense of the word! Shamelessly he allows himself continue drinking you in from head to toe and god fucking dammit Y/n! Your ass literally looks like it belongs under the tree, the way the lace and ruffles frame the swell of your cheeks, the cute little rhinestone sitting between the exaggerated bow resting right in the center! Let's also not forget the main selling factor again...there crochless..which also means assless.. So in conclusion there's all of like 3 tiny pieces of fabric covering or I guess I should say not covering your ass and It’s just….

Inhaling sharply, biting down on the swell of his lip, soothing a palm up his length which is already straight throbbing beneath his fingers! Idly stroking himself in an attempt to relieve a little tension, which is duly noted because you're already over here doing the most!

Not missing the way you wiggle your ass a little whilst while apparently finding the need to adjust a couple of ornaments. Because of course, that was necessary... “Did your parents ever let you open a gift of two early Jimin?” Peering over your shoulder in feigned curiosity, brow titled in his direction.

“No, which fuckin sucked because I’m really impatient” Jimin already sounds breathless and throaty with pure need, you keep fucking around and he’s going to tackle your ass.

Literally.

A low hum flutters through your chest as you gracefully slide to the floor, right next to said obnoxious tree. Landing on your knees, feet tucked beneath your ass which again looks like a whole ass present at the moment.

Bow and all you're literally sitting right where you belong!

“Come here…” Head lolling to the side, signaling him closer with the flick of a finger “Since you had such a shitty day I’ll let you pick one gift to open early, if I were you’d I’d pick that pick box to the left...I think that’s from yoon.”

Patience is a virtue...one that Jimin does not have.....

[petersasteria]

The Forces of Nature || Ch.16

Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.” 1,602 words Series Masterlist || Parker

“The swine flu has been worse recently. We don’t know where he lives exactly, but he’s definitely mad.” Rhodey told everyone as they played footage of The Violent Swine on the big screen. “Yesterday, he killed five people and injured one person.”

“How awful.” Y/N sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t a fan of violence. In fact, it was one of the reasons why she was hesitant to join the team when Peter asked her. “What should we do? We haven’t started yet. When will we act? We’re just sitting here doing these stupid meetings talking about ‘our plans’! We barely did anything!” She exclaimed, getting angry and impatient.

“Calm down, Avatar.” Tony said, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Calm down?! I’m sorry, but I can’t calm down. I can’t sit here while innocent people are dying because of this angry and vengeful man who’s clearly getting our attention. Let’s just act. Screw the plan!” Y/N pointed out. Steve nodded in understanding and agreement. Everyone was quiet for a while.

“Look, I’m sorry for lashing out.” Y/N said quietly. “I’m just mad that we haven’t gone into action yet. I know it’s dangerous, but isn’t our job protecting people? Isn’t that what the Avengers are for? I joined all of you because I want to help people. I didn’t join here to sit and watch them die until a plan was formed. Let’s just go for it.”

“She’s right.” Wanda said as she gave Y/N a small smile. “We should go for it.”

“So, there’s no plan?” Bucky asked.

“We’ve been training our asses off. I think it’s time to put our skills to use.” Y/N mentioned.

“Okay. Let’s just update Parker. Speaking of, where’s Peter?” Tony asked and looked at Y/N. She looked at him and said, “He stayed at home to take care of aunt May. She’s sick.”

“Okay, then. I’ll just text him about the meeting.” Tony said before pulling out his phone to text.

“Y/N, shouldn’t you be going home? It’s, like, 7PM.” Steve told her in concern. Y/N glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. Steve was right.

“Shoot! I have to go. Eunice is taking the night shift tonight and she said she’d only leave when I get home so that she knows I’m safe.” Y/N said as she hastily got up from her seat and packed her things.

“I’m glad that someone’s looking after you, Y/N. You’re lucky.” Nat smiled softly. Y/N smiled back, “Thank you. Eunice is a blessing sent from heaven. I’d be nothing without her and I'd probably live in the streets if I never met her.”

Once she was done shoving everything in her bag, she said goodbye to everyone and left. She rushed home and if she was being honest, the journey home was all a blur. She smiled to herself when the view of her apartment building came to view as she walked from the train station. She smiled at the couple who were going down the stairs as she was going up.

She had a skip in her step when she arrived at her floor. She took out her key from her jean pocket, but frowned when she saw the front door slightly open. She pushed the door open and said, “Eunice, I think you left the door o- AH!”

She cut herself off with a gasp. Suddenly she couldn’t scream and only tears streamed down her face. She shakily brought a hand to her mouth as the other hand shut the door behind her. The sight was traumatic. She was so busy taking in the sight that she failed to notice the words ‘overthrow gaia’ on the wall written with blood. Eunice’s blood, she assumed.

“Oh my god.” Y/N said as she cried. She broke down and fell to the ground. She carefully crawled to Eunice’s lifeless body and looked at her.

She didn’t know what to do. There were so many questions in her head that needed answers. Y/N knew she could see memories, but so far, all she’s been seeing were her own memories. She figured that she could see Eunice’s last memory before she died with the blood that surrounded her.

“I hope this works, oh my god.” Y/N sniffed before putting her hands on the floor. Tears, leaves and mud worked with seeing memories. Blood, however, doesn’t work. This frustrated Y/N because she wanted to see who did this cruel thing.

She looked at Eunice’s face and saw three letters carved on her forehead. ‘T.V.S’ it said. Y/N was angrier now. She grabbed her phone and called Clint.

“Hey, Y/N! We just saw you. What’s up?”

“Eunice is dead.” Y/N said bluntly as she cried. “I-I found her lying on the floor and there’s blood everywhere! I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, we’ll be there ASAP. Call the police and don’t touch her, okay? Stay away from Eunice.” Clint said as he informed everyone about what happened.

Y/N nodded as she moved away from Eunice. She leaned against the wall as she sat on the floor, “Please come soon, okay?”

“Okay, we promise that. Call 911.” Clint said before hanging up. Y/N catches her breath first before calling 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The lady asked.

“My guard- my best friend is dead. She- She’s surrounded with her own blood in the living room. I just got home and I don’t know what to do.” Y/N cried hysterically.

“Okay, what’s your address?”

Y/N gave all her details and the lady said, “They’re already on their way, okay? Stay on the phone until they get there.”

“Okay.” Y/N cried.

Clint, Wanda, Thor, Nat, and Steve arrived at the same time as the police and the paramedics. The door was aggressively pushed open by one of them and you didn’t care. “They’re here.” You croaked out.

The paramedics came in and handled Eunice’s body and the police asked Y/N some questions and that annoyed her.

“Look, I don’t know, okay?!” Y/N cried. “I told you everything! I came home from a meeting and I saw her lying on the floor with blood surrounding her! That’s everything I know!”

The five Avengers comforted Y/N while the police told her that they’ll be investigating more about it and that she needed to stay at someone else’s place.

“You can stay at the compound. You’re welcome to stay there as long as possible.” Nat said before pulling Y/N in for a hug.

On the files and records, it said that Eunice was murdered. Outing himself, the police already knew that The Violent Swine was behind this. Deciding he was ‘some kind of alien or something’, the police said he was hard to catch and they closed the case already. This angered Y/N until the funeral. She heavily invested her time finding out what happened to Eunice instead of grieving with Eunice’s family who she just got to know. Y/N didn’t give herself a chance to grieve and it was getting all too much and she didn’t want to admit it.

When the funeral was over, Y/N was left behind. She didn’t know that the Avengers arrived after everyone left. It wasn’t until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she knew of their presence.

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Tony said softly. Y/N could only nod.

“I will never forgive The Violent Swine for this.” She said softly. “We need to catch him now. I don’t care how we’ll do it.”

The next few days were spent locating and going to where The Violent Swine is, but when they arrived at the scene, The Violent Swine had already left.

Coming home from another failed mission, the Avengers went to the meeting room with frustrated looks on their faces.

“Why can’t we fucking catch him?!” Bucky exclaimed.

“He’s always one step ahead and it’s frustrating, but we need to be two steps ahead of him.” Bruce told everyone.

“How will we do that?” Peter asked as he took off his mask and ruffled his hair. “It’s difficult.”

Rhodey looked at the screen while everyone was talking about the next step, when Rhodey saw something unusual.

“Guys.” He said. When no one stopped talking, he raised his voice. “Guys!”

Everyone looked at him and Sam asked, “What?”

Rhodey turned to all of them and said, “The Violent Swine left New York.”

“Where is he now?” Scott asked. “Is he in Vegas? Is he on vacation?”

“He’s in Greece.” Rhodey answered. “He’s bringing the battle to Greece. I don’t know why, but we’re going there. Let’s finish him.”

“I’m down.” Y/N said without hesitation.

“Y/N, we have school.” Peter pointed out. “We can’t just leave.”

“I don’t care. He killed Eunice and he’ll pay.” Y/N glared at Peter before looking at Rhodey. “Count me in. I’ll get a passport and everything, I don’t care anymore. A final exam isn’t going to stop me from getting him.”

“Fine.” Peter said. “I’m in too.” The two teens looked at each with a small smile on their faces.

“We’re going to Greece, then.” Tony finalized. “When are we leaving?”

“...Now? Knowing him, he’ll start chaos as soon as he arrives.” Nat said, earning a chorus of agreements from everyone.

“You know what to do.” Steve said, everyone turning to him. With a hint of eagerness in his eyes he said, “Avengers, assemble.”

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @beverlythrillz @pearce14 @juliediggory @yaya4302 @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @moonlight-onyx @marvelsimps @angelsgrxzer @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12 @more-like-reyna @caitsymichelle13 @aayaissaa @oliviabren03 @wannabemobwife @bigassnocash

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @alinastarkrovs @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz @moonchild-s-blog

[s1i9d]

AMPHIBIA: SEASON 2B TRAILER BREAKDOWN

NEW AMPHIBIA EPISODES!! (Trailer spoilers and speculation! DUH!)

Y’all have NO CLUE how excited I am!! After that huge mid season finale drop, Amphibia fans all around have been waiting for the second half of the season! I did a Speculation post based on the episode titles, and another one based off of the episode loglines for the March drop!

Check them out, cause I will be referencing them as we go!! I’m first gonna do a scene by scene breakdown, then I’m gonna see if my predictions were right, or wrong. So many theories!!! I will also be mentioning the episode titles Matt released in the AmphibiaDirect, so if you don’t want to know, leave now!

If you haven’t seen the trailer yet, click here to see it all!!! Let’s begin shall we!

00:00–00:21: Completely old information and clips from Season 2A that we’ve all seen before with the music box and Sasha-Angst. One thing I did not expect was that this trailer would be so Sasha heavy. I expected her to kinda fade into the background and we’d focus a lot more on the temples, so this makes me have theories I may not have had before.

00:22–00:26: Marcy’s new bird (as teased in the Amphibia-Big City Greens promo). We have two shots with them, one where they are flying down with only a bunch of books that would last a lifetime, or a few minutes with Marcy. The second shot is them flying in the air with Anne and Marcy riding through the sky. I am trying my absolute hardest to not hope for gay then to be disappointed, but c’mon!!! Has no one seen How to Train Your Dragon?!!?!? But Hop Pop is being held in the second shot by the Bird’s talons so I think this is a little more Marcy and Wartwood kind of situation. Maybe somewhere around “Ivy on the Run” with Marcy and her bird being the B Plot.

00:27–00:31: The First Temple. We know from the colours and the shape from the book that it is the First Temple. It seems to have water flowing out of Frog statues’ mouths, and on the temple’s walls there are imagery of brains and a vague Newt Shape reading a book! Definitely talking about wit here! Even all the mushrooms are green, and we know how much Amphibia loves to use colour.

00:31–00:33: The Second Temple! We don’t actually see the Temple, just the archway leading to the Temple. Marcy seems to have the charged green gem on the music box, which is pointing them in the direction of the Temple, very Onyx Equinox-esque.

00:34–00:36: The entrance to the Third Temple. Lava pouring everywhere and pink statues of buff Amphibians? Definitely Sasha, no questions asked. I have no other thoughts about this shot other than the jagged rocks atop of the cave, seems like it could collapse in on itself and cause people to get hurt.

00:36–00:37: Ivy and Sprig jumping on treetops, I think this is from “Ivy on the Run” where Ivy is running from her mother’s strict rules, and Sprig is trying to talk her out of it. They’re so cute! It makes me wanna hold onto them and never let go.

00:38–00:39: Bessie jumping over a ravine with Sprig and Polly at the reins, which is from “Night Riders”, the first episode we’re seeing this Saturday!

00:39–00:40: A First Temple Puzzle where you have to solve a cube to enter the next stage. Seems like Marcy is in “her own little bubble” (heh. sorry i had to) and as she’s solving the cube, the room also moves on its own, with the Plantars being shifted to another side. Kinda like Wulfric’s gym in Pokemon X and Y. This sets interesting character work for Marcy, since she’s known to have issues with connections, but she’s so into knowledge and smartness that she may not realise the issues she’s causing to the people around her.

00:40–00:41: MADDIEEEEEE!!!! Definitely from “Maddie and Marcy”. I feel like they would get together and Marcy would be so into learning about Maddie and creepy magic that they will form a bond. This is how nerds make friends everyone, they find something the other is SUPER invested in and they learn about it. Either that or an extrovert claims them both, and they know each other via association.

00:42–00:43: Giant chicken bat for “Return to Wartwood”. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Seems like the Plantars set up a banquet for them, and they’re running away. So shenanigans!

00:44–00:45: Okay, so I initially thought Sasha’s next episode was gonna be in episode 16 (”Toad to Redemption/Barrel’s Warhammer”) and I initially thought that it would be Toad to Redemption, because y’know... Toads. But with Sasha’s pink powers shown in her using that giant warhammer, I think it’s going to be either one of the two, but Sasha is definitely showing up in 216. They don’t seem to be on a train, but the Earth is moving very fast for some reason. 

00:45–00:46: The Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar seems to be activating the tippity-top of the Second Temple, with Anne near her. The position of this is high above the clouds, and there is a blue glow coming from the writings/symbols on the ground. Perhaps this is the charging method for the gems on the box.

00:47–00:48: More First Temple stuff! Writing’s on the wall (man these visual puns just write themselves y’know!) and they are in the inside of the temple. Interestingly enough, the main floor is green like the rest of the temple, but the other side (puzzles) seems to have red and blue squares, perhaps representing the heart and strength (blue and pink) which is what the wit lacks.

00:49: The Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar opens a Scroll with the Music box, the three gems (which seemingly came before the box) and three people in coats almost praying to it. This is definitely “After the Rain” with the story of the Music Box being revealed. Cause we still have no idea what “After the Rain” is gonna be about.

00:50: GENERAL YUNNAN!! Scourge of the Sand Wars! Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched! The youngest Newt to ever be named General in the GREAT NEWTOPIAN ARMY!! (Can you tell I stan her? because I stan her.)

Anyways, she seems to be in the first temple or King Andrias’ throne room. I’m mainly assuming this because the temple because the building is blue or because the spires from King Andrias’ throne room are in the way back there, but there are several Toads there defeated on the ground. Either these were people to protect Marcy at the Temple, or this is an episode where all of Grimes’ command are trying to take over Newtopia under Sasha and Grimes’ command. Quite the plausible amount for theories and plot just from a one-second Yunnan shot.

00:51: A chess board with Frog knights shooting lasers at Marcy. Another one of the First Temple’s tricks, or it could be King Andrias’ plot, since we saw him with Chess pieces of Anne and Marcy at the end of “Marcy at the Gates”, so this clip could either be “The First Temple” or “True Colors” and either or are exciting!!

00:52-00:53: A mole comes out of the ground as Mayor Toadstool walks around seemingly trying to please Newtopian guards and soldiers. “Toad to Redemption” now makes complete sense! I called that it would either be Anne and Marcy helping a battle-hardened Toad, or it would be a Sasha episode. I think its the first part, where Newtopian inspectors are coming to suprise visit Mayor Toadstool and inspect if he’s doing a good job taking care of Wartwood, to no one’s surprise find out he’s embezzling money from the town. The episode would be Marcy and Anne helping Toadstool to become better so he doesn’t lose his job as Mayor.

00:53–00:58: We have three shots here, one of each of the girls. Anne looks back in the rain, almost distraught. This is definitely “After the Rain” and I’m not ready for the angst. Marcy is visibly frustrated over chess pieces, this is either a challenge from the Temple or she’s found out about Andrias’ plan. As much as Option 2 is interesting, I think the first one is more realistic. Sasha in the Third Temple, activating her Colour Power and breaking the ground underneath her to a circle. I am constantly terrified by and for Sasha.

00:58–1:00: Polly and Sprig’s silhouettes running in the rain. Also “After the Rain” but still nothing much to say here.

1:00–1:01: Giant tentacles grab Sprig and the Plantars. I have no idea what this is, but it also appeared in the “Night Riders/Return to Wartwood” trailer/promo, so I’m assuming it’s from that episode.

01:02: Sasha is facing off against a giant golem! Probably the Third Temple’s trial.

01:03: Newt Lady from the Bizarre Bazaar reveals the secrets of the Music Box. Definitely an “After the Rain” episode. I did not expect Marcy to be there though, that’s interesting now. 

01:04–01:06: Two shots from the Third Temple. First one being Anne having a moment of realisation, and the other with the Golem roaring in front of Anne and Sasha. This freaked me out because wtf??? Sasha and Anne together?? Are they solving it together too??? Interaction equals resolution/conflict/character drama.

01:07–01:12 & 01:17–01:22: So how are we integrating baby Marshanne into this??? As for which episode, I have no idea! But some interesting details in this is that Sasha seems to have been the last out of the three to have joined. Since Anne and Marcy are together crying, while baby Sasha is one on the slide standing up (hehe) for them. Between the first clip and the second, Sasha has a bruise on her forehead, so she may have gotten hurt trying to protect them. They introduce each other and that’s the end of the clip. I’m assuming this is finale material, because otherwise I have no idea where this is coming from or going to.

01:13–01:16: Anne pulls the Plantars in for a hug. Still not sure where this is for, but it is a thing.

01:23–01:28: Two shots of Sasha and Anne, which seemed to have been slowed down to around half speed. Shot one has Anne standing, almost distraught wearing what seems to be Newtopian armour, with Sasha’s foot in the foreground. The second shot is Anne holding her sword at the top of the Newtopian Walls to Sasha who is weaponless and has her hands up in surrender. Smoke is rising from the land below, and Anne looks visibly angry. I have no idea what is happening, but this definitely has to be finale material.

A title card shows Amphibia returning 6th March!! Hype.

01:34–01:45: Of course we need happy stuff to counter ANGST! So we have a bizarre sequence of Frobo making a garden and growing flowers in a matter of seconds. Hop Pop is enthralled by this and welcomes him to the family, and Polly looks at him knowingly. This is a very big development played very casually, since we know nothing about the robot besides his goofy self being able to do this. Frobo is the most cryptic thing this season besides the King’s basement, we also have no information on Frobo so this is a striking change. This will take place in “Friend or Frobo?” and I am stupid hyped!!! I don’t know anything about Frobo and I want to know more!! Also Wartwood is on fire. It’s just a normal Tuesday everybody. 

That ends the trailer breakdown!! But I did have some more general theories and thoughts I’ll include here.

Something I did want to mention before we started was the music in the beginning of the non-speaking part of the trailer. To me, it sounded like an epic reprise of John Legend’s “All of Me”, and I’m thinking there’s one of two things happening: one is that the finale song that we’re all crying to is “All of Me” by John Legend, like how Reunion’s was “Lean on Me” by Bill Withers; or, I’m just theorising like a mad person. Who knows!

Also another general observation is the puzzles and how we’ve been prepped for them by “Family Shrub” where each one has puzzles and riddles each person who fits a specific role must solve. Each girl with each of the Temples, and they need each one to deal with their own Temple. Meaning Sasha being at the Third Temple means some form of resolution/character interaction.

As for Sasha, I don’t know if she’s gonna be redeemed necessarily, but I think she might go to the good side and Marcy goes to the bad side. I don’t wanna believe that cause I love Marcy to death, but Season 2 finales are always horrifying before Season 3 finales wrap up nicely. So I’m expecting even more drama than the Season 1 finale. I want all the girls to be happy, and it’s not happening this season for sure. So much excitement!!!

That concludes all my thoughts on the trailer for Season 2B! Let me know what you’re excited for, your thoughts and theories, and if you agree or disagree with what I’ve said here!! So excited!!!!

[artyandink]

a little more of you | harry potter

Dedicated to @whyennwhenyouareyn because you need all the support you can get! I hope this makes you realise how special and loved you are! His smooth fingers traced the curve of her arm, the feather-light touch making goosebumps ripple across her skin. His breath fanned across her hair, clouding her cheek and settling down, his arm pulling her closer. “You alright, sunshine?” He murmured into her hair, his voice as soft as the clouds that rolled over the night sky, masking the moon. “Just fine.” She murmured in response, smiling into the crook of his neck at the nickname, feeling safe in the arms of her best friend. He called her ‘sunshine’ for a laugh because they both knew she was nothing like what he nicknamed her to be. “Anything bothering you?” “Not right now, I don’t think.” She rolled over to face her best friend, Harry Potter. People thought they were more than friends, or they were as thick as thieves, and they both agreed on the latter. His green eyes gazed lovingly into her grey ones, his fingers tracing small, feathery patterns on her upper arm, almost impossible to feel, but every stroke, every movement burned itself into her skin. “What about you, Harold?” His pools of emerald looked so clear and beautiful, the captivating smile he donned in front of her reaching and lighting up his eyes like having the brightest moon suddenly light up in an ebony sky void of stars, flushing the onyx sky with beaming, rippling, hypnotising light. “Just the Yule Ball, the most terrifying prospect of this tournament.” “I’m going to translate your words and assume you are a bad dancer.” “Correction. World’s worst dancer, Dawn.” “How about we shake off the nerves with a round of good, old-fashioned ballroom dancing?” Dawn stood up, holding out her hand and sinking into a curtsy that almost reached how low Lavender could get it. She held out her hand, which Harry took, lifting it to his lips, where he pressed an indelible kiss to her knuckle, letting his lips rest on the mellow surface of her hand for a few seconds. “Hand on my waist, sire, other holding my hand.” He followed her instructions, his hand threading in with the black locks loosely hanging round her waist. “Ok, now just follow my lead. One two three… one two three…” After a while he got used to it, taking the lead cautiously, nearly stepping on her toes but gladly missing. “You’re a really fast leaner, Harry.” She complimented before tripping, but Harry caught her swiftly, boldly dipping her before bringing her back up. They slowed to a halt, their focus now on each other’s faces. “Shame we’re not going together, Dawn. We’d blow the party away with your dancing skills.” His half-lidded emeralds bore a path into the depths of her soul, the warmth of the gaze rippling across her nerves and sparking a fire in her heart, one so bright and free-flowing that it drowned out anything else in the room that was buzzing round. Her face fell, realising the horrible, bitter truth: that she’d never be good enough for someone like Harry Potter. So loving, selfless, brave, there were not enough words to even begin to describe how special he was. And she, she just was, plain, dull, black and white Dawn Lovegood. "You alright?" His strong eyebrows creased with worry, mouth set to show he was confused. "I'm not good enough for you, Harry." Tears slipped from her eyes like a waterfall, washing away any joyful feelings that settled on the surface, drowning out any positivity she managed to store for the first time ever. "Hey, hey, what d'you mean?" "You're so special and kind, caring, and all I've done is be a burden. I'm not worth your time and love, Harry, please-" "You'd never be a burden to me." One by one, his fingers slid past the defences of her palm, calloused pads of his index and ring fingers brushing against her considerably softer skin, heartbeat quickening and almost audible to Dawn as her equally stimulated pulse thundered like a drum through her chest. His index finger hooked under her chin, thumb gently resting on top and caressing it, gently

pushing it upwards until her eyesight connected with his, the surroundings blurring and the flame of their connection drowning out anything she felt other than Harry. He brushed his nose against hers, nerves sparking at the sudden contact, long eyelashes flitting down but fighting to stay open so she could see what his next move was. But the weight pulling her eyelids down succeeded, senses dialled to 100 without her eyesight. She felt someone’s breath pulsing against her lips, breath that contained traces of delicious treacle tart, someone’s hair tinkling her forehead. “What are you doing?” Dawn murmured, her hand hesitantly finding it’s way to Harry’s neck. “Showing you how much you’re worth.” When his lips rested on hers, it felt like the fire within her passed through her and into him, causing him to pull her closer in passion, kissing her harder. Dawn suddenly becoming conscious of her slightly chapped lips from biting on it during lessons, so she was about to pull away when Harry separated for a moment, eyes still closed, breathing heavily. “Your lips taste amazing.” He breathed before pulling her back in, his emotions radiating off him, and Dawn didn’t have to be an empath to know how he felt in that moment. Hey, you Hey, Mr. Knock-On-My-Door I'm sorry that I've been emotions galore Am I crazy for wantin' a little bit more? A little more of you A little more, a little more of you His lips left hers slowly, as if he didn’t want to leave her. “I should’ve asked, but you should know how special you are. To me, to Luna, to everyone. Dawn Lovegood, you are beautiful, and you’ll always be worth more than the most precious diamond to me.” He leaned his forehead on hers, holding her hand delicately, as if she was a precious jewel herself. And in that moment, Dawn knew, that she belonged here. Here, at Hogwarts, in Gryffindor, in this dorm, in Harry’s arms. Always.

[out-of-jams]

One Chance || myg

(Amazing, incredibly badass banner made by @kimtaehyunq​ )

↠ One Chance ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project.

And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

A/n: Hey all you cool cats and kittens. Hope you’re all staying safe out there! I wasn’t intending to write this, but I had no other choice.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Min Yoongi.

The name stared up at you in size twelve font, black letters printed onto the white sheeted paper. Every other word on the page blurred around the edges as you tried to place a face to the name. You weren’t good with names, never had been. So with a sigh, you leaned to the side and mumbled to the girl sitting next to you in class.

“Hey, who’s Min Yoongi?”

She--Mira? Mina? something like that--glanced up from her portfolio opened up on the desk and shot you a disbelieving look. You couldn’t blame her, not really. It was nearing the end of the semester and your vocal class had worked with the music production class multiple times throughout the course of the year. Neither class was very big, so you probably should have known the names of all twenty students. Total. Ten in each class.

But hey, in your defense you’d had a lot on your plate, seeing as how you were about to graduate from university and all. Which was a pretty big deal, so memorizing the names of people you only saw a few times ever-so-often wasn’t high up on your list of priorities.

But Min Yoongi.

You recognized him the moment you saw the soft outline of his profile through the glass window of the studio door a day later. He had his attention trained on whatever was on his laptop screen, pale hand sliding across the mousepad. His dark brows were pinched in concentration and you could see the tip of his tongue digging into the side of his cheek.

Even though the overly-bright lights in the room were on, the guy still somehow managed to blend in with the slate grey walls. Hell, his icy blond hair was the only color to stand out amongst all the black clothing. The oversized hoodie and black joggers he wore looked comfortable, and had you glancing down at your own outfit self-consciously. Had the sweater, skirt and high heeled boots combo been too much? Should you have dressed down a little?

Whatever. It was too late now.

Watching him through the door made you feel like some kind of stalking creep, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times and recognized him from whenever your classes joined together and was a little disappointed at yourself for not recognizing his name. Even though you'd never spoken a word to him before, you were a little apprehensive about being partnered together. Min Yoongi had a reputation, and not a very good one. Sure, he was talented at what he did, producing music, to the point where a lot of people in the music department called him a genius. But he was known for being standoffish. Rude. And could cut someone down with a few words from his naturally pouty lips.

You didn’t like to judge a book by its cover, or by the rumors that circulated about them. However, that did nothing for the intimidating aura that bled from the man like cologne the second you stepped foot into the room.

He didn’t even pause in whatever he was doing to spare you a glance. Just announced in a dry, rumbling voice, “You’re late.”

“Uh.” You hesitated halfway into the room, the door swinging shut behind you automatically. Two seconds in and he already hated you. Great. “Sorry. I got lost.”

That made him look up and watch as you pulled the only other rolling chair back from the desk and plopped down. God, his eyes were just as daunting as the rest of him: onyx in color and cat-like in shape, they were bottomless as he blinked at you lazily. And he slowly raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You got lost.” Yoongi repeated slowly. So sarcastically that you didn’t even hear a question mark at the end of it. “Aren’t you about to graduate? How are you still getting lost on campus?”

Your mouth opened and closed, embarrassed heat blossoming across your cheeks. You were blushing hard and you knew it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had to acknowledge it. So you just sniffed and dug through your backpack for an excuse to break eye contact. “I haven’t been in here before.”

It was true. In a way. The hall of studios that you were in now were for the senior music production students. There was a completely different area for each year, but each student had their own assigned as theirs for the semester. So you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t been to his exact studio before.

Which he seemed to catch on to, if the way Yoongi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first told you anything. But he let it go and turned back to shut his laptop, which you could now see was opened to a music production app. You weren’t very schooled on how to operate it, but even you could tell that he seemed to be very far into whatever it was he was making.

Though you didn’t get a good enough look at it before he closed it.

“Even though we have a month to do this, we should figure out what kind of song we’re making now instead of later.” Yoongi stated in that gruff voice of his and clicked a few things on his laptop. “Since you’re the one singing, you’ll be setting the tone--”

“Wait.” You interrupted.

Yoongi stopped whatever it was he was about to say to give you a blank look, the corners of his lips turned down. “What?”

Clearing your throat, you continued on despite the way his expression tried to cow you into shutting up. “How’re we splitting this up?”

A valid question. Not every person who created music worked in the same way. Some liked to do things a completely different way than somebody else might’ve. Last time you’d worked with one of the students from the music production class, the two of you had butted heads the whole way. He hadn’t wanted to hear your input at all, and you weren’t about to be shoved off to the side like some kind of un-opinionated mouthpiece again.

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a hum. “I normally make the track and leave the lyrics up to the singer unless they need help.”

He looked at you from out of the corner of his eye as he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him to bring the giant monitor above the control panel to life. “Can you write?”

“Yes.” The word left your mouth before you could even think about it.

“Good. You’ll take care of that then.” Yoongi slid a blank yellow notepad into the empty space on the control panel between you. “Though we’ll need to do the melody before that.”

The next time the two of you met was almost a week later. It’d been sometime late in the afternoon when you both finally had time in your schedules. Because for some stupid reason, even though both of your classes were combined to work on the project, it had to be done outside of class.

Ugh.

As if you didn’t already have enough things to stress over. Like say, securing a job for after graduation.

During the first meeting between the two of you, you’d already decided on what kind of song you wanted to make. Something upbeat, but not over the top, though not boring either. You weren’t a huge fan of sounding like every other music artist out there and apparently Yoongi had felt the same. So it’d been easy to come up with.

He’d texted over a few ideas for the concept and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how serious he took it. At how complex and layered the ideas he’d come up with were. They were a lot better than anything you could have ever dreamed up and you were beyond astonished.

Especially when he met you outside of his studio door, blond hair was secured back off his forehead by a white headband,  and greeted you with, “I finished the track.”

“Already?” Shock was clear in your voice and you watched open mouthed as he unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow him inside. The lights flickered on overhead, but you were too busy staring at his back to notice. “That was quick, holy shit.”

Yoongi shrugged off your awe and wiggled the mouse to bring his computer to life. “It was no big deal. And now we can work on the melody.”

Still gaping at the blond, you shuffled forward to drop your bag next to your chair. “Okay. Um. Where should we start?”

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and lazily dragged the mouse over to open up his production software. “Listen to it first and let me know if you want to make any changes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You plopped down into your own chair and watched as he pressed play.

The music that poured from the expensive speakers started off slowly until it tapered off into what you assumed would be the first chorus. And you found yourself unconsciously tapping your fingers against your thigh when the bridge finally hit, you had to bite your lip to contain an excited smile. The moment it ended, you twisted in your chair to see that he was already looking at you. Though he kept his face blank, you could literally see question lingering behind those cat-like eyes of his.

“Mm.” You hummed, nodding your head and trying your damnedest to keep the grin from your face.

When you failed to say anything more, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Mm?”

“Mm.” You finally let the smile touch your lips. “I really liked it. It’s good.”

“Yeah?” He reached out to stop the track from replaying on a loop. “Any changes?”

“Nah. I like it just the way it is.”

“Alright.” Was what he responded with, but you could tell that he was pleased beneath that hard exterior of his. “The melody then.”

“The melody.” You agreed.

Min Yoongi was extremely anal when it came to anything he attached his name to.

That was probably why he had so many music companies vying for his attention. Not only did he produce nothing short of perfect tracks, but he’d even made some cash on the side selling some of them. Or so you’d heard through the grapevine.

Which was exactly why you were left staring at the blank notebook settled across your crossed legs. The pen in your hand had yet to put ink to the blank pages hours after you’d gotten home. All because some guy intimidated the hell out of you.

Most of the songs you wrote were fine. But that was the problem.  

Min Yoongi didn’t do fine. And you had no doubt in your mind that he’d tear your work to absolute shreds should you present him something lackluster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to jump the gun and tell him you’d be fine writing by yourself.

It was way too late now.

“How long are you going to stare like that?”

Snapping out of your self-degrading thoughts, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jennie, your ever present roommate, was standing behind the couch shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth. By the lack of makeup on her face and the messy bun her long black hair was thrown up into, she was more than likely about to go to bed.

“Stare like what?” You asked with a poorly concealed pout, pulling out your earbuds that’d been playing the track on a constant loop.

“Like you’re constipated or something.” Jennie waved her spoon at you before dipping it back into the bowl to scoop up more soggy cereal. “Project really giving you that much trouble?”

She didn’t necessarily know exactly what was going on with you, not exactly. Sure, she knew that you were partners with Yoongi and had been spending a lot of time with the man for the project. But she didn’t know just how much pressure you were under. Self-inflicted or not.

“These lyrics are kicking my ass.” Groaning, you leaned to the side until you were sprawled out on the couch.

“Why?” Jennie rested her arms against the back of it, bowl of milk and cereal hovering over you dangerously. “They don’t normally.”

She had a point. It wasn’t usually so difficult to write a damn song, but you also didn’t usually have a perfectionist genius as a partner. Instead of saying that though, you just threw your arms over your face. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this, ‘ya know? I should drop out while I still can.”

“O-kay.” You could hear her exasperated eye roll. “Don’t stress so much about it. You know, whenever you’re done being overdramatic.”

Jennie successfully dodged the couch pillow you chucked after fleeing footsteps. A buzz from your phone had you reaching for it blindly and the text on the screen had you burying your face into the cushions.

Min Yoongi: you free tomorrow?

Y/n: yeah. Same time?

His response came in not even five seconds later.

Min Yoongi: works for me

“So, see you tomorrow?” The question left your lips as you packed your stuff back into your bag. You still hadn’t been able to come up with any lyrics. At least none good enough to show your partner. So while you’d both been in the studio, you’d busied yourself trying to write and Yoongi had been doing whatever it was that he did.

He’d just powered down the computer he’d been working on and shook his head without looking at you. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Oh, really?” That came as a surprise. The fact that there was something or someone out there that could force the Min Yoongi to ditch working on a song. “What kind of plans?”

Ever since you’d showed up with food two weeks ago, he’d been a little more amicable towards you. Not as closed off. Which, of course, only led to you bringing some with you every day. Maybe food being the way to a man’s heart really applied to every man. Nonetheless, with the way the two of you would banter back and forth without heat made you hope that it wasn’t just you who considered him a friend.

Yoongi paused, only for a moment, but he paused all the same in throwing his bag over his shoulder before he answered. “I...have a show.”

“A show?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood up. That was the last thing you would have expected to leave his mouth. “What kind of show?”

“It’s not the type of show you’d want to watch.” He headed for the door and you scrambled to follow after him.

Leaning against the wall while he locked up the door, you folded your arms across your chest. “Why? You a stripper or something?”

Yoongi didn’t even spare you a look, just pocketed his keys and started down the hallway, apparently assuming that you’d follow. “You saying I wouldn’t be a good stripper?”

He’d assumed correctly. Your legs raced to catch up. “I never said that. You insinuated that all by yourself.”

An amused scoff passed his lips, but that was all you got in response. You weren’t about to letter the matter drop though. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A stripper.”

A pause. And then Yoongi met your sparkling gaze and shook his head with a huffing laugh. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Well, if your show isn’t anything rated NC-18, then can I go?”

“Why would you want to go?”

His question had you sending him a hesitant look. “Because we’re friends, aren't we?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I say no, will you stop asking?”

You pretended to think for a minute before clicking your tongue. “Nope.”

He looked over at you, feline eyes squinting in contemplation. As much as Min Yoongi liked to act like he came across as aloof, he was a lot easier to read than he probably thought. And he must have found whatever it was he was looking for, because his thoughtful pout turned into a careless shrug.

“Whatever. Fine.”

“Sweet.” You grinned up at him and finally let him go on his merry way.

It was difficult to find a parking spot. You’d had to loop around the block at least ten times before you were finally able to squeeze your car into a space between two giant SUVs. The spot wasn’t exactly close to where you were supposed to meet Yoongi, but it was the best you could do.

When he’d texted you the address, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little apprehensive at first. It was located on the outskirts of downtown where you’d never been before. Because the further out you went from the center of the city, the more dangerous it got.

Y/n: I’m here.

You sent the text off to Yoongi and cut the car engine. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dash, you silently thanked yourself for leaving a bit early in order to get there in time. The sun had long gone down and the moon had taken its place, so the streets were dark. Only lit up by the street lamps and lights that bled from apartment windows. Most of the businesses were closed for the night, the corner store half a block down was the only one still open.

You had about six blocks to walk and was just about to get out of your car when your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“Hello?” You answered the call, voice pitched with barely concealed amusement.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice was even deeper over the phone, if that were possible. And you could hear the sounds of cars driving past him in the background.

You rolled your eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I told you that I’m here.”

He sighed into the phone and you just knew that he was making a face. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Like, parked a few blocks away.” You popped your car door open, turning back to the passenger seat to grab your bag. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Stay where you are.” Yoongi demanded and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to.” You huffed a laugh. “I have two legs, ‘ya know.”

“Really? Never noticed.” In the background, voices blended in with the sound of cars. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. So just tell me where you are so I can make sure you don’t get stabbed or something.”

“‘Stabbed or something?’” It was difficult to hide your amusement now, but you obeyed and got back inside your car anyway, letting him know what street you were on. “My knight in shining armor, you say the most romantic things.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. You knew he did. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll just let you get stabbed while I make my escape.”

The bark of laughter that left you was impossible to contain. “I could run faster than you and you know it. So try me.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Yeah okay. You wouldn't--”

A click told you that yes, he would. And you were left staring down at your phone with open mouthed disbelief. How dare he? You were just about to call him back and tell him as much, when a knock on your car window had you jumping with a small shriek.

Yoongi stood right outside your door with his fist still raised and a gummy grin on his pouty lips. You just stuck your tongue out at him childishly and grabbed your bag before slipping out of your car. “You’re a bully.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark colored jeans and shrugged. “Would a bully walk all the way over here to make sure you don’t get robbed?”

Now it was your turn to shrug, taking him in and pretending not to see his onyx eyes slide down your body. Yoongi was dressed casually like usual. With a plain white t-shirt and a black zip up jacket thrown over it, he pulled it off like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover. How in the hell he always managed to do that was a mystery to you. And you knew you didn’t compare to him, even with your high-waisted white joggers and grey crop top.

Whatever. It wasn’t like it was bright enough outside to matter anyway.

“That sounds exactly like something a robber would say.” You flicked your hair over your shoulder and took off down the cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock your car behind you.

“Not like there’d be much to steal.” Yoongi’s voice caught up to you right as he did, walking side by side with the occasional brushing of his shoulder against yours.

You responded to his playful jab by lightly smacking his arm. “Careful there. Keep saying such poetic words and you’ll make me fall in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He went quiet, but you could feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was a weight that burned through you, a light shining through the night.

The rest of the walk passed by pretty quickly, especially when nobody jumped out of an alleyway to rob you at knifepoint. Whether or not that was because of the man walking at your side, or something else, it didn’t matter. Not when the building you were headed to for the night popped up in the distance.

It looked like any other building on the street, with rough brick siding and a glowing red and green sign advertising the bar. Situated on the corner, you were just about to head inside when Yoongi’s hand caught your arm.

“It’s this way.” He answered your confused look by tugging you gently down the alleyway right next to the bar.

“But I thought it was inside.” You glanced back behind you before looking back towards the dead ended alley.

Yoongi dropped his hand from your arm. “It is.”

“Ah, makes sense.” You nodded sarcastically, successfully drawing a smile from your escort.

“Be patient and you’ll see.”

True to his word, you saw what he meant when he came to a stop outside of a side door. There weren’t any signs or anything indicated what it led to, but you could take a guess as Yoongi pulled it open and gestured for you to enter first.

It was dark inside and you had to squint in the dim lighting in order to see anything. You were in what appeared to be some kind of entrance that reminded you of one of the speakeasies downtown. Though there wasn’t a soul in sight, just a staircase at the end of the short hall. Unless you counted the loud base of music pounding through your feet and straight to your bones. The door slammed shut behind Yoongi and then he was taking the lead towards the stairs.

The further down you went, the louder the music got until it was all you could hear. And once you got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the room, you found out why. Bodies were packed wall-to-wall, some moving to the music pouring from the speakers and others nodding their heads with drinks in their hands. Red and purple lights made the room seem bigger than it actually was, made it easier to lose yourself in the crowd.

Yoongi had taken you to an underground club. Which just made you all the more curious about just what kind of show he was going to be performing in.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi’s voice, even though spoken directly in your ear, was barely distinguishable from the lyrics bleeding through the room.

You simply nodded, taking care not to bash your head into his nose from where he was leaning over for you to hear him. He said something you couldn’t hear, words lost to the crowd. But you assumed he wanted you to follow him when he started to merge himself into the throngs of people. Just when you thought that you’d have to try and fight your way through to keep up with him, he was reaching back to grab your hand.

Wrapped his slender fingers around yours without sparing you a second look.

He was just trying to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Yeah, that was it. There was no other reason for it, so therefore your heart had no reason to speed up. To thump in time with the bass as you followed behind him. Especially when the warmth from his palm slid into yours.

“What do you want?” Yoongi turned back to speak in your ear. Shit, you hadn’t even realized that you’d already reached the packed bar. So you forced yourself to focus on the two bartenders running around behind it, rather than the hand still in yours.

“Tequila.” You answered. Yoongi raised both eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the bar. With his eyes no longer on you, it made breathing a whole lot easier. And you turned your attention away from Yoongi’s slim back and towards the stage.

It was all the way on the other side of the room and you watched as a guy walked across it with a mic in his hands. The music was lowered and his voice cracked to life through the speakers. Whatever announcement he was making went in one ear and out the other because Yoongi turned back around with a plastic cup extended out towards you. His other hand was empty and you sent him a questioning look.

Whether or not he knew what you were silently asking, or was just making a general announcement, he answered your question. “I have to perform soon.”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth and accepted the drink with a smile in thanks. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gonna be doing.”

You had to stand on your tippy-toes in order for Yoongi to hear you, which didn’t go unnoticed by him if the amused gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. “You’ll see.”

Which was exactly how you found yourself with another drink in your hands and your back leaning against the bar. If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t been sure what to expect. A lot of different things had popped into your mind about what kind of shows your partner liked to put on. Some ranging from completely ridiculous, to weird, to funny.

But none of them had been this.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A talented producer, a deep thinker, a musical genius.

Never would you have thought to add “rapper” to the list. You should have known, was a little surprised at yourself for not being able to guess. Like all other things Min Yoongi, he was incredibly good at it. Took to the stage like a natural. And you were completely awestruck, unable to look away the whole time he was up on that stage, letting words flow from his lips like some kind of poetic river.

Calm, yet bubbling over with the effortless way he captured the attention of everyone in the room. The track he rapped over was fast paced, but he had no trouble keeping up and keeping the crowd engaged at the same time. He performed three songs, but it wasn’t enough. And judging by the one last look at the crowd Yoongi took before exiting the stage, it wasn’t enough for him either.

Whoever took his place didn’t have one ounce of your attention. And maybe that was rude or whatever, but you didn’t care. Not when you caught sight of his blond head making its way towards you. He got stopped multiple times along the way by people congratulating him with pats on the back or short conversations.

By the time Yoongi finally made his way back to your side, your second drink was extended out to him with a grin on your face. You’d barely even taken a sip from it, so it was completely full and beginning to sweat water. “That was amazing!”

The performer on stage was loud, but you could tell that Yoongi heard you by the smile he tried and failed to hide behind the rim of the plastic cup. But you weren’t going to leave it at that, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and squeezing to make sure you got your point across. “Like, incredibly amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could rap like that?”

“You never asked.” He shrugged. Yoongi wasn’t the type of person to feed off of compliments, you knew that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate them. The way his onyx colored eyes glittered told as much. And when he tilted the plastic cup back and drained the contents, the confidence that flowed beneath his skin gave it away too. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, young padawan.”

A snort of amusement from the passenger side of your car had you throwing Yoongi a wink. He completely ignored you in favor of thumbing through the playlist on your phone. It was hooked up to the radio via bluetooth and ever since you’d left the underground club, he’d been focused on silently judging you for your music choices.

When Yoongi had suggested bailing on the club, he hadn’t really had a particular place in mind. Which you’d soon figured out the moment you stepped out the door. He’d taken the subway to the place, so you’d all but shoved him into your car before he had a chance to say no.

“You really have Ariana Grande on here?” He wiggled your phone in your peripheral and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t too busy merging off the freeway.

“What’s wrong with Ari?” You huffed in mock offense.

“Nothing.”

“I can literally hear the judgement in your voice.”

“Maybe you should focus on the road then.”

Now you really did roll your eyes. Though the bark of laughter that accompanied it showed your lack of annoyance. “I would if we weren’t already here.”

Yoongi looked up from your phone just as you were putting the car into park. His eyes squinted into the dark with a furrow of his eyebrows. “We’re at the beach?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ and turned off your car, quickly hopping out before you could fall victim to his flatline stare.

The scent of sea salt lingered in the semi-humid air and you paused for a moment to inhale deeply. There was nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, and when the passenger side door opened and closed, you rounded the car to wave Yoongi along. He caught up to you right as your shoe hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk. You’d had to park way back in one of the lots far away from the beach for whatever godforsaken reason.

Shopfronts, closed and shuttered by metal grates due to the late hour, greeted you as you walked down the path. And Yoongi’s presence at your side was calming. Hell, everything about that man was. Never would you have thought that about him, not at first. Not with the rocky way your friendship had started.

Neither would you have expected the warmth that bloomed in your chest everytime he looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. Or flashed you one of his patented gummy smiles. He’d somehow wormed a place into your heart with that sarcastic wit of his. No, the last thing you would have expected from your final project was this.

But you didn’t mind. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, only looked at you like a friend, you didn’t mind. Because you’d take anything he offered you. And if a friendship was all he was willing to give, that was okay too.

“Where are we going exactly?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you glanced up at him to see that he was already looking at you.

“Do we need to have a destination?” You shot back with a wiggle of your eyebrows. “It’s all in the journey.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as if silently asking why me, but let a smile touch his lips anyway “And this journey leads to the beach I’m guessing?”

“Maybe.” You dragged out the syllables, nudging your shoulder with his playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the beach.”

“Who doesn’t like the beach?”

“That’s exactly what I’m--whoa.” Your feet came to a halt right as you stepped out from between two shops, where the boardwalk met the beach. Yoongi stopped at your side, but you didn’t even notice.

Because you were too busy staring at the apparent concert that was being held further down the beach. Apparently the loud music you’d heard from the parking lot wasn’t from one of the many speakers placed throughout the boardwalk. Well, that would explain the lack of parking at least.

Even from where the two of you stood, you could tell that the crowd was huge. They took up a big chunk of the beach, bodies nothing but a dark mass in the distance as they danced to the music from the stage. You couldn’t tell who it was, not that far away. But the multicolored lights flashed into the sky like a beacon.

“I wonder who’s performing.” Yoongi’s mumble had you bending down to unlace your shoes. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna know who’s performing?” Slipping off your socks, you threw both those and your shoes into your bag. Once it was closed up, you sent Yoongi a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go find out.”

He didn’t move, just gave you a look before realization dawned on his face. “You want to sneak in.”

It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded your head anyway. “Come on, when will you ever have the chance to do something like this again. Don’t tell me you’re scared we’ll get caught.”

Yoongi scoffed, but leaned down to slip off his shoes in an uncharacteristic move. You knew he wasn’t much of a partier and didn’t do things like this very often. So the fact that he was caving to your suggestion had your mind whirling. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“At what?”

A smirk was thrown your way as he stood back up, but that was all the answer you got. After all the time you’ve spent with the man, you’d like to consider yourself a Yoongi Whisperer. So that smirk probably meant something along the lines of: I’m surprised that you’re a super awesome badass.

Or something.

“Just come on.” You grabbed his hand without thinking, dragging him behind you onto the sand. When he failed to complain, you took that as a greenlight to continue doing so.

When his fingers linked themselves with yours, it took all you had to not falter in your steps. To pretend like you weren’t affected by such a thoughtless action. To calm the rapid beating of your heart.

The closer you got to the concert, the louder the music got, until you could hear the roar of the crowd over the artist on stage. It was EDM, or at least sounded like it. Of course, as soon as you got closer, you spotted your first hurdle. One you’d been unable to see from far away.

A chain link fence stood between the two of you and a night of fun. It had your shoulders deflating before you even realized it, and you turned to the blond at your side. “Should we climb it or something?”

Biting your lip, you eyed just how far up it was. Even if the two of you managed to climb it, there was no way that you wouldn’t be spotted by security. And being arrested was the last thing on your to-do list.

“Or.” Yoongi crossed over to the fence and wrapped his hands along the bottom of it. With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking, he lifted it up and back, bending it backwards with just enough space left at the bottom for someone to squeeze underneath.

There was no way that he would have been strong enough on his own to lift it, and a closer look had you snorting a laugh. Apparently the two of you weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea to sneak in.

“You going?” He questioned and you started forward before a smartass remark could leave his mouth.

The sand was cool beneath your body as you shimmied underneath the space between the fence and the ground. And once you were on the other side, you crouched down and grabbed the fence from Yoongi to pull back towards your side. “I’m surprised that you’re going along with this, to be honest. Don’t you hate music like this?”

He grunted as he crawled across the sand towards you. “You wanted to.”

“So?” Your voice was soft, but he was still able to hear you over the pounding bass. The fence dropped from your fingers once he was on your side, but you didn’t move, just stared up at him as he stood.

“So.” Yoongi started, extending a hand down to help you up. “Are you coming?”

His answer had warmth blossoming in your chest and a tiny smile blooming on your face. Had you reaching out to let him help you up off the sand. He didn’t let go while you brushed yourself off, but he did guide the both of you towards the writhing crowd, if only to avoid being spotted by security.

It was a good thing that Yoongi was a slim man, because it made slipping through the numerous dancing bodies closer towards the stage a whole lot easier. You’d made it to about the middle when he stopped and tugged you closer to join him in a pocket of space between two different groups of people. The scent of marijuana mixed in with sea salt from the ocean in a cocktail that usually accompanied things like that.

“Dance with me.” You spoke into Yoongi’s ear, ignoring the excited flush you felt at being so close to him.

“I can’t dance.” He stated, despite the hand he slipped around your waist and pressed into your back. Whether or not to move you out of the range of the group of girls dancing wildly behind you, or something else, you didn’t know.

Chest to chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. “Mm. I don’t believe you. Everyone can dance.”

“That’s a lie.” Yoongi’s lips were titled up at the corners and his gaze on you was soft. Gentle.

The flashing lights on the stage flickered through his dark colored eyes. Turned those once pools of onyx into a glittering galaxy that you couldn’t look away from. That hypnotized you like the beat that pulsed beneath your skin and drowned your ears.

“That’s not true.” Your mumble was lost to the crowd. Buried somewhere underneath the music as he moved closer. And the butterflies nestled deep in your gut fluttered their wings when his other hand cupped the side of your face.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours and his breath fanned across your cheek. That was the only warning you got before his mouth was on yours. His lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he liked to wear. And the kiss, like everything Min Yoongi, was slow. Not in a lazy way. More like he was taking the time to savor it. To remember what your hair felt like as he slid his hand into it.

Or the way you involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip. How your fingers found their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck when you pulled him closer. How he’d had to hold back a laugh at the way you were standing on your tippy-toes in order to reach him.

You probably wouldn’t have pulled away and neither would he, if it weren’t for the rain that suddenly tore from the sky like an opened dam. Drenching anything and everything around it faster than you could blink. It had you forcing yourself away from the magnetizing pull of Yoongi’s lips to give him an eye crinkling smile.

“What was that for?” You didn’t care if you were getting wet.

Neither did he apparently, because he ran a thumb over the lips he’d just kissed, sending shivers down your spine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. Break it down for me.”

He met your imploring gaze almost bashfully, eyes squinting from the rain. “I’ve liked you since practically the beginning of the semester.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you, Min Yoongi.”

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Both of you glanced up at the dark sky at the same time.

Everyone around you was either ignoring the torrential downpour or shrieking and attempting to use anything to shield themselves from getting wet. Once the sound of thunder echoed a streak of lightning, you knew what was about to happen next and turned to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He, like everyone else, was drenched and his blond hair stuck to the damp skin of his face. It had you grinning at the pout on his mouth and you leaned forward to press your lips to his one final time before pulling away.

“We should get out of here before everyone else decides to do the same.” You had to shout to be heard over both the rain and the noise from everything else. It was only a matter of time before the concert got either canceled or postponed due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yoongi wiped water from his eyes and grabbed your hand to start navigating the hell out of there.

And as your eyes trained themselves to his slim back and your fingers interlocked themselves with his, you smiled. The lyrics that you’d been struggling so hard to write came to life beneath the fire in your chest. You had no one but the man in front of you to thank for the inspiration.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a poet, a light in a sea of darkness.

Min Yoongi was nothing if not beautiful.