#and her side bangs too. she looked the most Penelope when she got possessed by Aety

[ultramarine-spirit]

Rereading wmmap I realized that claude's mom has the same bangs as Athy and Claude and I love that Spoon did that 😭

You are right! She has the same type of bangs as Claude and Athy do. I think Spoon did a great job with their character designs showing how they are related to one another. They don't look identical, but are similar enough for you to think they are from the same family, especially Athy looking a lot like Diana and Claude, but also like young Anastasius. (I like to think that LP!Athy especially resembles Claude's mother. They have a similar fragile and melancholic air).

In other manhwas there are times when I wouldn't be able to tell characters are related if the plot didn't explicitly say it, so I think Spoon's special attention to detail and love for parallelisms really shines here. Sure, the jewel eyes are an obvious sign of Athy being Claude's daughter and Ana's niece, but their hairstyles are similar as well, the shape of their eyes and faces, and even their expressions and mannerisms. And yet Athy is also so much like Diana. She has the same wavy hair and slender figure, her smile is exactly the same, and she shares Diana's bright personality with a stubborn side, as per Claude's words (and apparently also the love for sweets, going by that one Diana chibi). I think her character design is the perfect balance between Claude and Diana's sides!

[asingingsword]

quiet time

Peaches sat patiently in the candlelit bedroom, careful to keep her head straight as Penelope combed her hair. "Your hair's getting longer," she remarked. "You'll have to start tying it back soon."

Peaches noticed the difference between the fine tooth of a comb and the broader, more tactile sensation of fingers and nails on her scalp. "Just a little, perhaps," she said.

"I could braid it," Penelope offered, twisting Peaches' fine, pink hair in her hands. "Or I could cut it all off--"

"No! Don't do that!"

Penelope giggled to herself, leaning forward so her breath tickled the nape of Peaches' neck. "No, I wouldn't. I couldn't!" She continued to brush her hair back. "I wouldn't get to comb it anymore."

Peaches found herself giggling as well. "O-oh, oh Penny, don't be--!" She interrupted herself with a fit of giggles; Penelope was still very close, and the combination of her light touch and tickling near her neck caused her to squirm. "Don't be so affectionate!"

"Why not?" Penelope said, drawing Peaches further into her lap. "Why...why shouldn't I?"

Her voice grew breathless, rather suddenly, and Peaches felt the shift too as her heart began to race. There was a pause in her combing, as she let her fingertips fall over her back. Peaches felt stiflingly warm, particularly across her cheeks, but she didn't dare move or complain.

"Why...ah, why shouldn't I?" Penelope said again, a tentative whisper. "I..."

"Penny?" Peaches asked.

She turned around as much as she could without disturbing her seat completely--Penelope was staring down at a lock of Peaches' hair, twisting the strands between two fingertips. Her eyes flicked up, and when they met, she bit her lip. "It's...a-ah..."

Peaches smiled, despite her heart jammed comfortably in her throat. "I was just teasing," she assured. "I like it when you play with my hair."

Penelope's face turned a violent shade of pink. "R-right!" she exclaimed, then slapped her hands over her cheeks. "I was just--! Of course! Heavens above. You're so...so...!"

She floundered, scrunching her face and rocking backward, and Peaches was forced to turn and face her in her disarray. "What?" she coaxed. Cute, she thought fleetingly.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! I'm fine!" Penelope huffed, puffing out her cheeks. But as Peaches laughed, she relaxed slightly, and reached out to touch the hem of Peaches' pants, near her knee. "You're just so honest..."

Peaches tilted her head. "Is that all?" she remarked. "I guess that's just how I was brought up. Yet my Papa says it could get me into trouble someday..."

Penelope shook her head and used her other hand to rest her chin on. "He could very likely be right."

Peaches shrugged half-heartedly, and they met each other with relaxed smiles. Penelope's free hand relaxed at her side, and to comfort her, Peaches took it to her own, gently. "Now, will you comb my hair?" she asked.

Penelope's eyes danced looking down at their loosely clasped hands. "O-oh, I don't know," she said, swallowing. Even in her glee, she was distracted toward the door beside them. "Maybe I should get someone more qualified."

As her gaze lingered there, Peaches was forced to follow it, and Brynmor emerged from the shadows with a bowed head. He waved his hand in front of his face, then signed, "I apologize...I don't mean to interfere."

"Oh, no!" Peaches said. "The door was open."

Penelope seemed less impressed. "Mmhm," she scoffed. "You are more adept, are you not?"

Bryn nodded, but then turned his body away from Peaches to sign to Penelope. Not enough, however, for her aura sparked as she saw the tips of his fingers. "You can still hold her hand."

Penelope's only anchor was Peaches' hand--otherwise, she would have shot up like a catapult. "How dare you! Don't tease me!" she exclaimed, still pink in the face. "I should--"

Bryn's quiet laughter was barely contained, glee twinkling in his eyes. "That is hardly my intention!" he signed, shuffling around the bed behind Peaches. "I am merely commenting on what I see."

"Well, see less!" Penelope barked. "I'm going to go read!"

"No, Penny!" Peaches insisted, lacing their hands further. "Won't you stay? I would like it if you stayed."

Bryn's fingers felt different than Penelope's--broader, more purposeful strokes, rather than a wandering nervousness that Penelope somehow possessed. His hands in her hair, and Penelope's in her hand was a soothing comfort. It was a little foreign, but it felt pleasant, and who was she to pass up a good thing, after all the running, fighting, and monsters they had been through?

"All right," Penelope sighed. "But if the three of us are in here, then the other two won't be far."

As if on command, pounding footsteps raced down the hall. Grace skidded to a halt in front of the doorway. "Ah-ha! There you guys are! Selly got lost on the way from the bathroom and couldn't find his way back."

Her confident march into the bedroom was contrasted by Sellius not far behind, holding his elbows in his hands. "It's dark! I don't want to run into an umbris at night!" he whined, the flowers on his crown wilting with him.

"All you gotta do is glow a little! Can't you make yourself a little light with your aura?" Grace advised. She whipped her head away from him and to the three on the bed, and immediately pointed at the bed. "Are you guys holding hands?!"

"Grace!" Penelope squawked, puffing up like an angry cat. Her freckles glowed faintly on her arms, a dull green. I guess she is getting her aura back, Peaches thought.

"Be nice, she's a little sensitive about it," Peaches quipped, sticking her tongue out.

Penelope grumbled incoherently, hiding her face in her free arm. Sellius giggled, brightening up, and sat close beside Peaches. "I can hold her hand too, if you want," he said sweetly.

"What! Hey! That's!" Penelope was nearly incoherent, and her face was so hot it was fogging up her glasses. But it was too late--Peaches and Sellius joined hands and beamed at each other, content. This isn't what you had in mind, is it, Penny? Peaches thought. Oh, but I like the company...

"You guys are too mushy. Blech!" Grace stomped around the bed, wings arched up around her like a second pair of shoulders. She peered around at Bryn, who was halfway down a careful braid, gathering strands of Peaches' hair bit by bit. "Even you, tough guy..."

"Hair braiding is a very important orterran tradition!" Penelope said, her composure regained slightly when attention wasn't directly on her. "It's done before battles and formal events, and most are rarely seen without their hair braided!"

"So basically," Peaches added, "it's the toughest thing imaginable."

Grace mulled this over. "Then why doesn't he have his own hair braided?"

Bryn hesitated in his rhythm. Peaches felt the tension grow in his hands. She opened her mouth to come up with an excuse...

...but luckily, Penelope caught it before she could. "His hair isn't long enough," she answered. She clearly ignored his long bangs, if they could be called as such. "Exceptions are made!"

This was sufficient for Grace, and she settled beside him, cross-legged with a yawn. Sellius hummed to himself, then suddenly looked around and blinked. "Oh my goodness, did you...um, did you want to be alone?" he asked.

Bryn snorted. Penelope sighed.

"Maybe," Peaches answered for both of them. "But...it's okay. I'm glad you're here." She looked around--first at Penny, then Grace, then back at Bryn, and to Sellius last. "All of you. I couldn't have come this far...not on my own..."

Bryn tied Peaches' braid with her usual ribbon, then turned her gently to sign. "We are with you until the end," he signed. "No matter where that will take us."

"I'll keep you safe, Peach!" Grace proclaimed, puffing out her chest and spreading her wings. "I'll kick anyone's ass! I'll kick what's-his-name's ass in the heavens if he lays a finger on you!"

I think we'll need more than a little draconae's bravado for that, Peaches thought, but grinned nonetheless.

Penelope squeezed her hand. "Ah, we have time, you know," she said. "We don't have to...rush into it, if you need to take a break from all of this."

"I...I know." Peaches nodded, pink eyes turned down toward the sheets.

("How can you sit there and do nothing?! You have the sword, you have your purpose! And you would squander it, wallowing in your own self-doubt!" The avatar, hair red like a flame, spit at her feet. "Pathetic!")

(Garnet's spirit flickered in the firelight. "I need to go to him. I need to reach him. If not..." He sighed and stared up at the stars. "It has been too long yet. He is not only a danger to others, but himself...")

She looked back up to meet Penelope's eyes. "No rush, sure," she said, "but...we should keep our momentum."

Penelope nodded. "Right."

Sellius yawned beside her. "Then we should sleep," he said. "I'm so sleepy..."

"You're always sleepy!" Grace pointed out.

"I use a lot of aura! I'm not used to trudging around the world for days at a time!" Sellius huffed. He gave Peaches hand a squeeze (leaving a small, pink flower in its wake) before flopping down on the bed. "I need rest..."

"You're sleeping here?" Penelope remarked. "No way, there's not enough room! This is Peaches' bed..."

"Well, too bad!" Grace hopped around and yanked Peaches backward, clinging onto her like a monkey would a tree. "This time I wanna cuddle with Peach! She's soft!"

"You're a bed-hog, though! Look at your wings!" Penelope pointed down, but as soon as she did, Grace folded her wings as tight as they could go against her back and stuck her tongue out. "Ugh, Bryn!"

Bryn's eye twitched, in a way that said "what do you want me to do about it?". Then, he took a closer look at the bed, sizing it up briefly. "It is larger than it looks," he signed. "There should be room."

Penelope surveyed herself, looking all around her. "Yes, but..."

"You will have to manage," Bryn signed. He then stood up to shed his jacket, and then his armor, leaving him in a soft undershirt. He pointed to the side beside Grace, and the one next to Sellius.

"Oh, all right," Penelope said, and scooted next to Sellius. "I would rather take a face full of flowers and vines than a wing kicking me in the night."

She paused, expecting a retort from Grace, but there was none. Peaches lifted her head. "She's already asleep," she whispered.

Bryn walked around the bed, reaching over to brush a fly-away back from Peaches' face before getting into the bed beside Grace. I am so lucky, Peaches thought, warmth all around her. To have friends such as these, through these incredible times.

She closed her eyes, smiling to herself. I've never been so happy.

"Selly," Penelope whispered. "The candles..."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah..."

Sellius raised his hand and waved it, and with a gust of wind, the room went dark.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Morning After

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1377

Summary: It's the morning after one the biggest days of their lives. And nothing could be better. Based off "kiss on the back" request.

Read on AO3

AN: So I wrote this all out in one sitting before rushing off to class. Idea entered my head and it would not go away. I was late, but it was worth it tbh. Hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece! :)

Simon

The bright light attacks my eyes as soon as I wake up. Shit, we forgot to close the curtains. I guess we were too drunk on champagne and happiness to remember.

Slowly, my brain realigns with my body. Crowley, I ache all over. From my pounding head to my sore feet. I’m still in parts of my tux. No jacket or shoes, but I've still got the shirt and slacks and bow tie on, though the tie is undone. My arm is lazily thrown over the torso of the cool skinned man snoring next to me.

Well that’s not fair. Baz doesn’t snore, but he is breathing deeply through his mouth, loud enough for me to hear. He’s slightly more undressed than me, having abandoned his coat, shirt, and shoes somewhere on the hotel room floor. But he’s still in his black trousers with the suspenders attached and hanging at his sides.

I remember us entering the room, spinning and kissing. We were pushing and throwing each other’s clothes off with the mutual desire to maybe fool around. That was what we were supposed to do traditionally. But we ended up just collapsing on the bed together instead, laughing into each other’s mouths with happy tears in our eyes. Then we fell asleep like this, curled into each other. It was the perfect end to one of the best days of my life.

I shift forward, nuzzling into his bare back, pressing a few firm kisses on his shoulder blade and spine. He stirs slightly, groaning under his breath.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," I say cheekily.

“It’s too early,” he mumbles.

“The sun is up though."

“The sun can go fuck itself.” He grips my hand on his stomach. “I’m not moving.”

I tighten my hold. “Good. Cause I’m never letting you go.”

He chuckles slightly. “No need to be so possessive, Snow. I think I made it pretty clear yesterday that I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s Snow-Pitch to you, sir.”

Baz slowly rolls onto his back. I stay on my side, propping my head on my palm to better look down at him. His hair is a messy black halo around his soft pale face. He’s smiling lazily, eyes still half closed. (Crowley, he’s gorgeous.) (And now he’s officially all mine.) “I still can’t believe you took my name.”

“Well, how else am I going to let the world know I’m married to the most amazing and aggravating man on the planet?”

He grabs my left hand and lifts it up between us. He uses his index to play with the gold band on my ring finger. It’s a truly beautiful thing. The outward side is carved with intricate swirling patterns that look like smoke. And on the inside, it’s engraved with two words, (which Baz blushed at when I suggested them): “we match.”

“I think this is a pretty good indicator,” he says, obviously trying not to smile too wide.

I shrug. “True. But I like to play it safe.”

I reach with my right hand to grab his left, and trace my thumb over his identical ring. We sit there for awhile, staring at these little pieces of jewellery, thinking about everything they entail.

“We actually did it,” he says, voice soft and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“I just, I never thought we’d get this far. Merlin, that we’d even have the chance to be here.”

“But we are here.” I hold his hand firmly. “We made it, Baz. We got to do this. And... I’m so damn happy.”

He squeezes me once. “Me too, Simon. More than I ever thought I could be.”

I lean down, tapping my forehead against his and gazing into his swirling grey eyes. I’m grinning so hard my face hurts. “We’re fucking married.”

He giggles. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, slowly running over the hair there. “We’re fucking married.”

We descend into loud, joyful laughing. But it's silenced when Baz pulls me down into a deep kiss. I melt into it, moving to cup his jaw. My heart feels like it’s about to burst. Which is so cheesy but so true. Baz and I are married. I’m married to Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. And I can tell people that from now on. Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

There’s a loud banging on our door. We both jolt apart to glare at it.

“What?” Baz growls loudly.

“Are you two lovebirds decent?”

I sigh heavily, sitting up. “Yeah, Penny. What is it?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

“Since when does she ask permission?” Baz grumbles. I lightly kick his shin.

The door swings open with Penelope on the other side. She’s in a casual skirt and blouse, having gotten out of her wedding garb, unlike us. Her eyes bug out as she looks at the clothes covering our floor.

“Crowley,” she says. “You know those tuxes are expensive, right?”

“It was our wedding night, Pen. Give us a break.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah yeah, you’re married and sickeningly adorable. Any who, as your best woman, Si, it’s my duty to inform you that there’s a post-wedding brunch happening downstairs. And yes there are cherry scones.”

I perk up. “Made by Cook Pritchard?”

“M-hm. Says it’s her wedding present to you two.”

“I think those are more for Snow’s benefit than mine,” Baz says with a smirk.

I smile down at him. “You can have one, love. I’ll take the rest.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Sounds about fair.”

“Well,” Penny says, “if you want any of them, then get dressed and get your arses down there pronto. Everyone is expecting an appearance by the grooms.”

“Don't worry, we’ll be there in ten minutes, Bunce.”

“Good.” With that, Penelope closes the door with a slam.

Baz sighs, running hand over his forehead. “Guess we're going to have to move after all.”

“Unfortunately.” I flop down on my side and press my nose into his cheek. “But we don’t have to check out until the afternoon. So we can come back here and have a proper wedding night.”

He turns his head to face me, one eyebrow raised and smile devilishly playful. “Is that a promise, Snow?”

“Damn right it is.” He leans his mouth towards mine, all too eager for me to fulfil the promise now. But I pull back, making him frown adorably. “But scones first. I’ve really missed those things since Watford. No one makes them as good as Cook Pritchard."

He groans dramatically. “Fine, we’ll go get your bloody scones.”

I scoot to the end of the bed, jumping off. “And speak to our guests.”

Baz sits up and swings his long legs over the mattress. “Very well. But if any of them start asking inappropriate questions about last night, I’m fucking leaving.”

“And I’ll fucking join you, don't worry.”

We dress quickly. I throw on a red t-shirt and grey cargo shorts. (No more fancy clothes for me, thank you very much). Baz chooses a green short sleeve button down and good looking jeans. (I still love him in jeans.) He stands in front of the mirror, brushing his tangled hair back.

“No don’t do that,” I say, slipping my arms around his waist and resting my chin on his shoulder. “It looks better loose.”

“You just want me to look as messy as you do,” he says with no venom whatsoever.

I shrug. “Or maybe I just think it looks nice and casual.”

Baz makes a “pfft” noise. But then he combs it forward, letting the strands fall around his sharp cheekbones. “Very well. I’m trusting your judgement.”

“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek once then step back, hand out. “Now come on, husband. Let’s go.”

He takes it, squeezing my palm. I want to take a picture of him so badly. So I can capture the calm, happy expression gracing his features right now forever. I love the way the corners of his sparkling grey eyes crinkle up and his cheeks have the smallest dimples when he smiles. He looks beautiful. I love him so much. “Yes, husband. Let’s.”

We get to call each other that for the rest of our lives. And I can’t wait.

AN: Hope you liked this morning after wedding fluff. It's all so cheesy I love it. Again I hope to have the rest of these kiss requests done during Christmas. Working on another one now but it'll probably be longer so it's taking awhile. Anywho, thanks for reading! :D

[professionalhorror]

Turning The Page

Three hours. That's how long I waited in line to see Lawrence Reid. I've been reading his books since I could read anything above Dr. Suess. Hell, I can’t remember reading anything other than Lawrence Reid books.

I used to sit under my blanket after bedtime with a flashlight and the newest Chiller book. When I finished ‘The Child in the Cornfield’, I couldn't fall asleep after. I read it so many times, I wore out the spine. I was just so intrigued. Where did the child go at the end? We’ll never know. That child just disappeared through the corn never to be seen again. We never even learned her name.

I loved how every book had a crazy twist waiting for the reader at the end. When I was a kid I was always so excited about the twist that I couldn't wait to get to it. The second I picked up the book, I flipped to the end and read the last line. Now I can't read any book without reading the last line first.

Now just as I turn eighteen, he published his first adult horror book. It's a sign. I grew up on his books and now he's making a new book for me. It’s like he wrote it to say he didn’t forget about me.

It came out last week and I bought it the day it came out and finished reading it by the time the moon lit up the sky on the same day.

When it was finally my turn, I gently glided my copy of Hunter’s Moon across the table to him. I probably stared at him for too long. I just couldn't believe I was standing in front of Lawrence Reid. My idol.

“Hi, what's your name?” Lawrence Reid said.

“Uhh h-hi. M-my name is Penny.” I said.

“Penny. That's a fun name.” He said.

“Oh my god, thank you. It's short for Penelope but I’m just not a fan of Penelope so I started calling myself Penny.” I said. I forget when I started calling myself Penny. I don’t think anyone actually called me Penelope anyway. Lawrence Reid said my name. And he said he liked it!

“I like it. I may have to steal it for a book I’m writing.” Lawrence Reid said he wanted to use my name for a goddamn book!!! I wasn't freaking out at the time or anything.

“Oh my god, are you serious?” I said.

“Yeah, I have a character in my next novel who doesn't have a name yet. She looks remarkably like you. It's like you crawled off the page.” Lawrence Reid said.

“I wish. I mean what am I saying, I wish I could crawl onto the pages and be in one of your stories.” I said.

“Then I think you’ll like my next book as well. It's called ‘A Storybook Ending’.” Lawrence Reid said.

“Doesn't sound too scary, Mr. Reid.” I said.

“Oh I think you’ll disagree.” Lawrence Reid cracked open my book and signed his name on the title page.

“Well when does it come out?” I said.

“You’ll know before anyone, won't you?.” He said as he slid the book across the table to me. “You're the star, Penny.”

I clutched the book close to my chest as I walked away from the line. I just had a conversation with Lawrence Reid, my favorite author, and he said he’s writing a book using my name. It was all a little too much to handle if I’m being completely honest.

I went home that night and put the book that Mr. Reid signed inside of a glass case. I needed to make sure I didn’t lose that thing as long as I lived. It instantly became one of my most prized possessions.

I could barely sleep that night. I was still thinking about today. It was just like being a little kid and reading all those Chiller books. Spending my nights reading about vampires and monsters and zombies and ghosts and whatever other wonderful things Lawrence Reid could come up with. I spent all those nights wishing I could be a part of that world, wishing I could be in those books and now my dream was coming true. I met the man himself and he said he was going to put me in one of his books,

As I tried to fall asleep, I heard a loud banging sound on my door. I got out of bed and danced across the floor towards the front door. Nobody on the other side of that door could sour my mood right now.

I opened it and saw that nobody was on the other side of the door. Even better. I was about to turn back around when I noticed something on my front porch. A package.

I grabbed it off the ground and shook it. I couldn’t tell what was in there but it felt warm. It felt comforting. I untied the twine knot that held the manilla paper packaging in place and the paper unfurled to reveal a book: A Storybook Ending by Lawrence Reid.

My mind flooded with feelings of pure joy and confusion at the same time. This can’t be. Did he really give me an advance copy of his newest book? The joy of being chosen like this by my idol pushed aside all the questions I should have been asking: how did e find out where I live, why would he leave a book on my doorstep in the middle of the night with no note, why aren’t I panicking about this?

I sprinted back to my bed, book in hand, and grabbed a flashlight. I was going to enjoy this book just like I enjoyed all the Chiller books in my youth. I threw my blanket overtop of myself and turned the flashlight on. I cracked open the cover of the book and saw a note written on the title page.

“Dearest, Penny.” It read. “As promised, you’re the first to know about my latest book. I hope you enjoy your starring role. But promise me one thing, Penny: Don’t read the last line first. It’ll kill the surprise.”

That was odd, I didn’t tell him I read the last lines first. The hairs on my neck were starting to stand up straight. I was scared before I even read the first chapter. Part of me thought I should even wait until morning before starting. Something about this whole situation was starting to alarm me.

I pulled the blanket off of me. I saw a clear night sky over head. I saw a full moon shining down on a cornfield just a dozen feet away from me. What happened? I wasn’t in my room anymore.

I heard rustling in the cornfield. I opened up the book and flipped to the end. Forget what Mr. Reid said, I’m somehow found myself in this strange place after picking up this book, I’m finding out how this book ends.

‘Finally, Lawrence had managed to lure the child back into her world. She had done a lot since she escaped the cornfield, she found a life, a home, and even found a name. But Penny never forgot her roots. She always came back to the story of her youth. Now Penny was back where she belonged and where she would always stay. Forever the Child in the Cornfield.