#i didn't know that i missed writing rook until this moment

[otomes-world]

"Under fantasy disguise" part Pomefiore (1)

Fantasy AU “Under fantasy disguise”: world lore (prologue) heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia trigger warning: some self hate, reader in really bad state (but there is nothing grafic), barrely edited text.

At some point, the clouds flying past completely erased the idea of time and space. Slowly brightening sky marked the beginning of a new day. The lump in throat, the approaching nausea and self-loathing merged into one large layer, settling like a burden in your chest. A heaviness that radiates unpleasantly throughout the whole body.

You wanted to pry open chest if only it could give at least a little peace of mind.

However, the much-desired peace would not come. The subconscious told you, or maybe you yourself understood that you couldn’t let go of the situation. Frankly, what happened - all at once - was not your fault. It wasn’t, but selfishness and the banal desire to survive stuck needles into such a subjective concept of conscience, which you didn’t even suspect. When you live in a world of technology - when you don't have to make tough decisions - the world seems simpler.

You didn’t know where the carpet was going. Perhaps it was simply obeying your unspoken impulse to get away. Anywhere. To a place where it will be at least a little easier.

However, during the time you spent in this world, you managed to come to terms with the thought: it won’t get better. The further you plunged into unfamiliar lands and got to know its inhabitants, the harder the blow to your mental health. At some point you thought that the happiest time of your forced journey was wandering in the mountains.

Taking a shuddering breath, you froze abruptly, noticing movement out of the corner of your eye. Something flew past at incredible speed. Glancing briefly at the sleeping cat, you clenched your fists, your nails - or what was left of them - digging into the skin of your palms. The pain helped calm down a little and focus on surroundings. A moment and something flew by again, this time very close.

It didn't seem to you.

Waking Grimm up with your left hand, you tried to look down. The carpet did not slow down, and therefore it was difficult to try to see anything. The barely brightening sky did not help at all. Suddenly the fabric shook and you felt something cold millimeters from your other hand. Imagining the worst, you looked down, noticing the thin scratch on your skin and the arrow.

Everything inside you suddenly stopped.

Heart began to beat sharply, making already labored breathing difficult. The mind tried to come up with a solution, an escape, something, but apparently the third arrow was the last warning. The last one before something incomprehensible collided with the carpet, paradoxically sobering and frightening at the same time. Intuitively stretching out your hands towards the sound of meowing, you realized in horror that you were falling down. The carpet, which had saved your life several times, was flailing in the air, trying to extinguish the flames that were engulfing the fabric faster and faster.

You closed your eyes and prepared to fall. The sharp blow, it felt like it, knocked out the remaining oxygen on the branch, as did a further fall onto the wet grass. The pain darkened vision. You wanted to scream, but you didn’t have the strength to unclench teeth and utter even a sound. Bent over, you still clutched Grimm to your chest, simultaneously trying to think about something good.

Heartslabyul still caused waking nightmares, but there were incredibly beautiful roses there. Flowers. Pleasant baking aroma. The softly shining sun.

A slow, careful breath literally created a storm inside. The lungs protested, the muscles tensed to the limit. It would be so easy to close your eyes and plunge into darkness if it weren't for the adrenaline still flowing through your veins. Your attacker was still somewhere nearby.

Sitting up with an effort of will, you could hardly resist so as not to fall back. Your side was burning, and the notorious stars were flying before eyes. What kept you from giving up was the realization that the breathing of the cat, limp in your arms, was becoming weaker. The fear of being alone in this world turned out to be enough of an incentive to go against everything: fate, a tired body and, possibly, broken bones.

A rustling sound came very close, and you tensed, preparing for the worst. Having spotted a dry branch nearby, you wondered how much time and effort it would take to grab it. There was a rustling sound again, and this time the steps took him by surprise, but a child appeared from behind the bushes. Even in the semi-darkness, you noticed his light gray hair and pointed ears. Gradually, two more appeared behind him: one with burgundy strands sticking out to the sides and a gloomy expression on his face, and the second, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

The very first, apparently the main one of the trio, took a step forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "How are you feeling? How many fingers am I showing?"

You just shook your head, closing your eyes. The voice of reason insisted that you had to run, but fear for Grimm did not allow you to take even a step..

"Us.. can.. help.. you.. "you didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded so quiet and muffled that you doubted whether you were heard. Your throat burned, but you opened your mouth again to repeat the request as many times as necessary.

"Dominic, it’s not a good idea to bring someone you don’t know home, is it?" The gloomy child spoke, and for a second you again started to panic. "If we bring everyone we meet and cross, we ourselves will soon become the King’s target."

King? That's all you needed. Previous territories also had heads, but facing the “royal family” sounded much more terrible and problematic

"..only a night.. I can.. stay in the forest.. only Grimm.." It seemed like torture to pronounce every word. Your vision was blurry, but you were obliged to hold out.

“Another guest won’t be such a problem,” Dominic answered. "Can you get up?"

No. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to get up. You couldn't even lie to yourself. You didn’t even have to answer, the main one came up and extended his hands to the cat. With trembling hands, struggling not to pull them away, you allowed the cat to be taken away

"Groom, stay and look after last one. Shelpi and I will go get Neige"

The one who was called Groom grumbled without ceasing, but still approached you. Watching the children disappear among the greenery, you allowed yourself to relax. At least Grimm was safe.

"Hey. Hey! Come to your senses!"

You felt someone shaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t make out anything else. Only at some point did you hear someone’s worried voice, but you couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying.

You came to your senses, then fell into oblivion again. Voices, sounds, light caused dizziness and rejection. The only thing you remembered throughout the entire chaotic state was that pleasant voice and someone’s warm hands.

"You woke up!" Someone voiced it before you even realized it yourself. It’s just that at some point you stopped distinguishing between reality and a dream, but it seems that this time you were definitely in reality. "Wait, I'll call Dominic"

This name fluttered familiarly in memory. That's right, that was the name of the bright child. Following with an unfocused gaze the young man - although now in your eyes he was just a colored spot - who quickly rushed off somewhere, leaving you for a minute.

Closing your eyelids, you tried to focus on the present. You weren't abandoned in the forest, that's a plus. The attacker didn't show up yesterday, or maybe you just weren't found. The questions “Who” and “Why” remained unanswered. It would be possible to close your eyes and not chase your tail, as before, but your intuition suggested that this time it would be different. That this was just the calm before the next storm. But you no longer had the strength to look for shelter so as not to be carried away to the mercy of fate.

A quiet knock brought you back to reality. It was strange, the young man didn’t seem to lock the door. Opening your eyes slightly, you squinted, trying to make out the newcomer. As you thought, it turned out to be the same child. Next to him stood someone your age - maybe a little older or younger - with a friendly smile. The corners of your lips slightly twitched upward, but they couldn’t become the same full-fledged smile.

"Are you feeling better now?" Asked the child, who continued speaking after a nod from you. “You’re probably still confused, so I’ll try to speak more slowly. My name is Dominic, my dwarf brothers and me have been living in this forest for a very long time. And this,” he pointed at the young man, “is Neige. Although you may already know him. Let me know what happened to you?"

"…if.. I knew.. someone attacked us while we were flying on the carpet.. we turned over and fell, Grimm.. Grimm! Where is he?" An attempt to sit up abruptly was unsuccessful, causing more circles under the eyes and weakness. A brunette who appeared next to you prevented you from turning over and falling out of bed

"Your friend is okay!" The dwarf immediately answered hastily. "He, like you, needs to rest. But you need to do this first. During the fall, you broke a rib" you immediately touched your burning side. “It will take time to heal.”

Having given a short thank you to him and the boy, as a sign that you were already feeling better, you began to hastily rebuild your plan of action. It was impossible to linger, but on the other hand, going in the current state was no less stupid. You understood that the fall could not have happened without something - there was a limit to luck and the capabilities of the human body - but the awareness did not brighten up what was happening.

"Do you know who could have attacked you?“ The young man asked softly, holding out a glass of water that had come from nowhere. However, you weren't complaining.

“No.. No, this is my first time in these lands,” after a couple of sips it became easier to speak. “We were flying… yes, we were flying,” you strained your tired memory. "…someone shot! I remembered the arrow!" Looking hopefully at Dominic, you saw a worried look. As if he realized who exactly attacked you and the Grimm. For some reason, you doubted whether it was worth finding out the truth. "This is not someone from the royal family, right?"

You tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic even to your own ears. For some reason, the duo didn't appreciate your joke.

“It might have been Rook,” you frowned, another new name. “He works as a hunter and serves Vi,” the young man tried to keep the conversation going with the same light laugh, which came out better than yours. However the impression he made was the same - he did not inspire confidence.

“Vi?” You asked carefully, afraid to confirm your fears.

"Exactly, you don’t know. That's what I call Vil, he is the king of these lands. We saw each other quite often at the castle!"

You were doomed. You could see the world literally crumbling before your eyes. This is exactly what was needed for happiness. Purely to confirm what you already suspected, you turned to Dominic, "What is the probability that… how did you call him, Rook?.. Reported everything to the king?"

Silence was a convincing enough answer.

Despite the chance of being discovered, you remained in the dwarves' house. It was inspired by the hopelessness and persuasiveness of Neige, who took upon himself the responsibility of your personal doctor. Although this was too strong a word, the process was still more led by the chief of the dwarves. Gradually you got to know the others.

Groom and Shelpi were part of the company that day. Although the first one was rude and hot-tempered, you couldn’t call him bad. It just took some getting used to. Shelpi was his opposite. A dwarf with a perpetually sleepy look, although you could understand him. In your current state, all you wanted to do was sleep.

There were four more gnomes: Timmy, Toby, Snick and Hop. You saw Timmy only from afar and only in someone else’s company. Perhaps he was just nervous around strangers. Toby was a sweetheart whose memory failed him more often than usual. Hop was a classic example of a cheerful child, and Snick's specialty was his perpetual allergies.

Watching their noisy but cheerful routine was a pleasant change from the nightmare that was happening in your life before. Nevertheless, you remembered Heartslabyul’s experience and were in no hurry to relax.

The more time you spent in their friendly company, the stronger the feeling of guilt grew. Understanding that they would come for you. Now or a little later didn't matter. Just like how many troubles befell the cat’s head for the company. Asking to take care of Grimm was another breaking through the ceiling called “selfishness,” but… that incident made it clear that problems were pouring down on your head more and more often. Their consequences were becoming increasingly difficult to correct.

Living with guilt was unbearable.

So much so that you were unable to look into the eyes of your faithful friend, who has literally gone through thick and thin with you, and you decided to leave him.

You didn't even hope for forgiveness. Deep inside you understood that this was just an attempt to come to an agreement with yourself, a struggle for the opportunity to hate yourself a little less. Looking at the recovering cat, this thought took root more firmly in consciousness.

The pathetic excuse “it will be better this way.”

Gradually you were allowed to take short walks. Your side still hurt, as did the wounds on back, but the fresh air helped to distract you and not drown in self-flagellation. The only activity for which you always had the strength.

Hoping to find your things, you tried to find the crash site from memory. It was stupid, especially since those trinkets were of no value. To some extent, they simply gave an imaginary sense of belonging. Reminders of your home world, which seemed farther and farther away day by day.

Moving aside the branches, you were finally able to find the desired clearing. It was like all the others, but some internal awareness did not allow you to pass by.

Check and leave.

Simple plan - simple implementation. Searching among the bushes without bending down was another challenge. Having sat down, you rose to your feet again with great difficulty, the shooting pain in your lower back made itself felt every time you tried to find your treasured things.

Breathing heavily, you leaned your hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. A little break won't hurt anyone, that's for sure in your condition. Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the clearing once again, making mental notes of where the bag might have been thrown.

There was not a soul around, or at least it seemed so. Perhaps over time you became too suspicious, but at the moment you could not leave the feeling of being watched, no matter how stupid it may sound. Who could be in the deep forest, right? Unless… who attacked you and the Grimm that day. You tsked and took another breath, trying to calm down.

It was dangerous to return to the house: you didn’t want to let Neige and his friends down. Trying to escape in an unknown direction was reckless. You didn’t know these places, one wrong turn and Robinson Crusoe will appear in this forest. Although you doubted that this world had heard of him. The possibility of becoming a discoverer was not encouraging.

"Ma cheri! What a rarity it is to find such a beautiful creature in such a dense thicket,” a voice that came out of nowhere took you by surprise.

Turning towards the sound at a speed you didn’t know you were capable of, you saw a strange blond-haired young man.

“Are you… talking about me?..” You asked carefully, simultaneously looking for a way to escape. Now the suspicions no longer seemed groundless.

"Oui! Yes and yes! A triple "yes" is not enough to prove the sincerity of my words. How brave and reckless are walks in the wilds, where every animal and people poses a danger. I had already decided that knowledge, Fata Morgana, which had darkened my mind and revealed such a fragile angel in human form!"

He spoke a lot and not very clearly, sometimes you lost the thread of the story. In your best times, you didn’t like such conversations, let alone today. However, this was a good opportunity to look at the blond. He was wearing a cream-colored tunic, loose pants and a hat with a fluffy white feather.

It was necessary to come up with an excuse and as quickly as possible. Perhaps you would be able to wander around, wait for him to leave, and return home without consequences. However, this would be too loud a statement. If there's one thing life has taught you, it was not to think ahead of time.

"Thank you, I guess?.. Did you want something?" You decided to ask directly.

"Oh, that's right. Wandering among the flora and fauna, I found one interesting little thing,” he sadly shook his head while you did everything to prevent doubts from showing on your face. "Obeying the will of my heart, I am trying to find the owner."

Emphasizing the last word, he smiled, narrowing his eyes. The nature of the emotion that flashed through them made you shiver.

"Well, I wish you good luck in your search, sir.."

"Hunt! But you can call me by my name, just Rook,” digging your nails into the palms, you kept a friendly expression on your face through an effort of will. The blond raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, and then also calmly began to close the distance. "I don’t dare to hope that you have heard of me. However, like me about you. His Majesty, Roi du Poison, has been wanting to meet you for quite some time, and who are we to refuse him."

Looking ahead at the outstretched hand and the unshakable figure of - as Neige said - the hunter, you doubted that you had any chance of escape.

[apompkwrites]

the school-bound kingscholar || leona kingscholar

masterlist characters: Mwezi Miji Trio (OCs), Leona, Ruggie (platonic) genre: Angst contains: (Brief) Swearing, Possible OOC moments (depending on how you view Leona and Ruggie [mainly Leona]) summary: Following the admittance of Night Raven College's newest freshmen, both Kingscholars begin to come to terms with the newest changes in their lives. notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING AGAIN OTZ. Unfortunately, my lapses of writer's block and demotivation have only increased since I last posted. I'm trying to get back into the hang of posting things (as evident by my art account suddenly coming alive again). ALSO! As you can tell by the formatting, I'm actually writing with proper grammar on Tumblr now! Right now, I don't plan to go back to reformat the older chapters, but maybe once I find the drive to do it, I will! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it <3 parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]

Leona felt something knock the air out of his lungs. To Ruggie, who stood right beside him in a robe that was a few inches too long, it was hilarious. Seeing the very prince (well, second prince) of the Afterglow Savanna lose his composure was enough to make Ruggie let out a quiet "Shyeheehee" under his breath before he ultimately straightened his posture under Leona's pointed glare.

Nothing could have prepared Leona to see (Name) again. Honestly, he had long since come to terms with the fact that his little sibling was missing, lost to the Outlands and likely a rotting corpse in the middle of nowhere.

He's lying, he could never come to terms with that, no matter how much he deluded himself.

But they were here. They were here and they were walking closer and they looked exactly the same as he remembered them.

Well, obviously, not exactly. But they looked so familiar and yet so different at the same time. Leona didn't even notice the tip of his tail swishing behind him until he heard one of his dorm members complaining about a tickling sensation against his ankles. And that only caused Leona to grumble under his breath and snatch the base of his tail to stop it from moving.

By the Seven, had they changed. They seemed bolder and more confident compared to the last time he had seen them. The way their shoulders were no longer hunched forward and instead rolled back in a pride strut he wished he could attribute to someone who had come to accept their own status or the way their eyes seemed sharper rather than soft and wide with innocence. And their hands. By the gods, what happened to their hands...? No, they had changed severely, akin to the way Leona recalled seeing the royal guards before and after their training.

Something had happened, that much he could figure out. And as much as he wanted to advance the board, reach out, and capture them like a king in a game of chess, he couldn't. Not when they were surrounded by a queen and two rooks.

"Ignore him," Nuru advised, although his words were more of a formality if anything. He knew how well you could handle yourself, but this was a unique situation.

"I know," you replied curtly, flipping your hood back on and sidling up to Nuru's right side. Jabori immediately flanked your other side in turn, followed by Jabali. It was a familiar formation, one that the four of you had cultivated for as long as you could remember.

"It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," you whisper. However, the sharp pain lingering in your chest said otherwise.

Student after student soon began trickling out of each coffin, repeating the painstaking process of standing in front of the mirror, listening to its spiel about their innermost workings, before joining whatever dorm they were assigned to. Until finally, finally--

"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" One of the hooded figures lamented, his hand perched prim and properly on his hip. If you didn't any better, you'd assume that he was royalty or nobility. But, judging from his scent alone, he wasn't.

"Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever," Leona yawned, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he turned on his heels, facing the mass of hooded figures now under his care. "I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."

He went to take a step amidst the other chattering dorm leaders before the doors slammed open, the handles banging against the wall from the force at which it swung. Leona groaned in response, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Psst, Nuru," Jabali called from his spot beside Jabori, leaning forward to actually see him. "Are you sure this is the right place? We're actually supposed to find answers from..."

Jabali paused and motioned out towards the commotion now terrorizing the mirror chamber. The little gray cat scampered around the floor, setting fire to whatever he could in some strange show of physical prowess and magical ability. "...These people?!"

Nuru said nothing at first. From where you stood beside him, you could tell doubt was beginning to creep up behind him. Lucky for him, Jabori decided to take the lead.

"This is Night Raven College," he points out, pulling back the hood of his robe by a hair to peer over at his twin. "Pretty much everyone here, especially the dorm leaders, are adept at some kind of magic. I mean, look."

This time, Jabori pointed towards the commotion, his finger following the way that the redhead shot a spell in the cat's direction, materializing a red and black collar around its neck.

"It's the best shot we have," he concludes, nodding in support of Nuru. That single gesture instantly calmed Nuru down, his shoulders no longer hunched up and his wings relaxing behind him. You merely smiled and patted his forearm in response. Jabali, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms in begrudging compliance.

"Fine. But I'm not gonna get along with 'em or nothin'," Jabali huffed, rolling his eyes. Jabori laughed lightly at his brother's annoyance while Nuru let out a single huff of air.

"I wasn't gonna ask you too, either," Nuru hummed, glancing at Jabali from his peripheral. "Same goes for both of you, (Name), Jabori."

"Copy that," you nodded, the quiet chuckle that seemed to bubble from your throat disappearing the second Leona turned to face you and the rest of the new Savanaclaw members.

"You heard the headmage. I'm headin' back," Leona grumbled and, without missing a beat, brushed past the crowd and headed towards the door. Another hooded figure, one who had been standing beside Leona the entire ceremony, let out an exasperated sigh before raising his hand.

"Savanaclaw! Follow me," he ordered, earning a few half-hearted "Yes, sir"s from the rest of the huddled crowd.

You had to admit, it was pretty entertaining watching Jabali and Jabori marvel at the size of the campus halls. And Nuru too, if only he'd have more obvious reactions rather than just a single flick of a wing or a tilt of the head.

While the halls were nothing compared to the Kingscholar home, it was still pretty big. If you were any smaller than you were now, you'd probably react the same way.

"No way they need these doors to be this big," Jabali murmured, lightly elbowing your arm and pointing at one of the classroom doors. Your eyes followed his finger and a snicker managed to escape you. He wasn't wrong, those doors were freakishly huge, both in height and width.

Jabali went to comment on something else before he stopped, his eyes drifting over toward the new mirror chamber everyone had been led to. The doors were held open to accommodate the crowd, letting handfuls of students walk towards a mirror and get sucked into it, the glass rippling as if took wisps of bodies and left nothing in its wake.

"Savanaclaw House! This'll be your only way in and out of the dorm," the same hooded figure that led you all here called out. He had hopped up onto the lip of the mirror's decoration, using one of the rib-like sculptures as an armrest.

"Hurry up and get in! The faster you do, the faster you'll get to claim your rooms," he snickered before skipping ahead of the first dorm member and hopping into the mirror.

The prospect of first come first served seemed to spur on the first years, causing a near stampede of people trying to get into the mirror first. Nuru hooked an arm around your waist while Jabali did the same with Jabori, the two of them finding a single break in the crowd to get away, Nuru through flight, and Jabali through scaling one of the pillars by the wall.

Lucky for the four of you, the mirror seemed to accommodate more and more people as the crowd diminished. Perhaps through how many bodies reached a specific threshold, you thought. Regardless of the magical mechanics, it allowed Nuru and Jabali to let you and Jabori down after a few minutes.

"So many people," you grumbled under your breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Jabori. Nuru and Jabali nodded at your observation before the four of you hopped into the mirror yourselves.

Immediately, the four of you felt the familiar searing heat of the sun beating down on your skin. It almost felt like home if not for the increased heat coming from the fire serving as lights just outside the dorm's entrance.

Jabali and Nuru were the first to shrug off their robes, the former because he finally had enough of the stuffy fabric, and the latter because the heat was already starting to congregate around his feathers. You and Jabori followed suit, although the two of you merely hiked up your sleeves and flipped down your hoods.

Nuru shook out his wings and let out a soft grunt, one of his feathers falling into the sand beneath your feet. Turning to look over his shoulder, he shot the three of you a soft, almost comforting smile.

"Off we go, then," he hums, waving for you all to follow. If it were anyone else, you three probably would've found offense to a command as expectant as that. But it wasn't just anyone else. It was Nuru, the Guardian, and your dear friend.

The inside of Savanclaw was nothing really to marvel at like the rest of the school's campus. It wasn't cramped, per se, but it was quite a bit more tight than to your liking. Luckily, the walkway opened up the building quite a bit with the roped bridges connecting each floor.

Nuru scanned the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a room on the top floor, tucked all the way in the furthest corner. You figured everyone else left it since it was so far and their mentalities were focusing on that first come first served promise your leader from before declared.

Nuru unfurled his wings and shot up past the bridges, making a beeline towards the unoccupied room. He didn't have to go that fast, of course, considering only a few students were lingering in the walkways who sure as hell weren't planning on making the long walk up there.

Jabali seemed to share their sentiment considering his frustrated "Damn it, Nuru" muttered under his breath. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped his lips before he trudged up along the nearest bridge, his hands shoved in his pockets and his robe slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

You and Jabori took a more relaxed walk up behind him, appreciating the familiar decorations that reminded you of your hometown. Of course, that appreciation turned into apprehension at the thought of Mwezi Miji now being unguarded by the main four.

What if something happened? What if they had sent word of an all-out war between themselves and the Dens and you hadn't heard of it since you all were knocked out in coffins? What if they were all already--

"On your right," Nuru called to you from the doorway, his hand shooting out to grab your shoulder. Ah, you had gotten distracted. Nuru shot you a concerned glance, his brows furrowed in the same way they always were when you got stuck in your head before he ushered you into the room.

Jabali and Jabori had already claimed their beds on the left side of the room, Jabali near the door and Jabori near the window. This left the entire right side open for you and Nuru.

The winged beastman glanced over at you, patiently waiting for your next move. You caught his glance and mustered up a small smile before heading towards the bed closest to the door. Nuru subtly lit up at your decision, a little skip in his step as he moved towards the window.

You managed to hold back a snort at his hidden excitement. He always loved the window spot. Maybe it reminded him of when he was small enough to fit through them back home.

"So, what's up with you and that new first year, huh?" Ruggie huffed as he walked straight into Leona's room, leaning down to pick up a discarded shirt and dropping it in the laundry basket. "I've never seen you react that way other than with them."

"Watch your words, Ruggie," Leona growls from the bed, his head already buried in his pillow. His back was facing Ruggie who still stood in the doorway, but with the way his ears were perked up, it was fairly obvious that he wasn't even close to sleeping.

"My bad," Ruggie snicked in response, holding up his hands defensively. "But, seriously, who was that? Someone I need to watch the pockets of? I mean, who else would it be if not roy--"

"Out," Leona demanded, his hand latching onto his pillow and launching it backward at Ruggie, the soft fabric turning into dust and scattering across the floor as he muttered the incantation under his breath. Ruggie yelped and scampered out of the room, throwing the door closed behind him before he could see the pillow disintegrate into sand.

Leona took a single breath through his nose before slowly sitting up. He rubbed at his face before reaching over to the desk placed beside his bed, his fingers curling around the drawer's handle and pulling it open.

Underneath notebooks thrown carelessly inside lay a single photograph. It was small, yet free of any creases. He lifted the books off of it before slipping the photo out, nearly cradling it in his palm.

Back when he first found the photo tucked neatly in one of his notebooks, he grimaced. It was an annoying keepsake, one that only served to remind him of the bothersome family waiting for him back home. But now...

Now the sight of his little sibling smiling ever so brightly while his older brother screamed in the background about a bug in his hair brought the smallest twitch of a smile to his lips.

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[bookish-bogwitch]

Thank you @roomwithanopenfire, @rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @larkral,

@hushed-chorus, @alexalexinii, @monbons, @whatevertheweather, @run-for-chamo-miles,

@artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @forabeatofadrum, and @aristocratic-otter for the tags over the past few weeks. I've had a crazy month (90% in crazy a good way) and too frazzled to come up with my own WIP posts, but have enjoyed reading yours and being included.

Here are six ten moody little sentence from Chapter 11 of Basil Pitch's Diary. (In case you missed it, I posted Ch. 10, September, a few weeks ago, then fled the country.) Baz is hanging in in Niall and Dev's room:

The last time I was here with Niall, he’d told me to hold out for more than ear scritches and the occasional carrot. Now we sat on his bed with a chessboard between us. “Baz,” Niall said quietly. “What are you doing?”  “Beating you.” I moved my queen to menace his remaining bishop. “With Snow, I mean.” Niall did that thing where the rook and king hop around, which shouldn’t be allowed, and I realized he’d won. Again. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there is a me who grew up with someone to play against, demolishing a Niall who never went to math camp.

Below the cut: musing, a posting plan, and more tags.

Musing: I've actually written a ton since the last chapter even though I've been AWOL, but for a while no matter what I wrote, Baz felt out of character. I'd write a scene, like it, and then think "but why is he doing this?" Then I'd rewrite with Baz behaving completely differently, and that also felt OOC.

I worried that I'd somehow doomed myself with inconsistent characterization, but then I figured it out: Baz at this point is deeply inconsistent. He presents himself to the world one way, he tells the reader / himself that he's something else, and deep down he's a secret third thing. And sometimes his masks slip.

To some extent this is every unreliable narrator. But boyo has REALLY tangled himself up at this point. Something's gotta give. Until it does--which it will, soon--I have to be very clear in my mind, even if Baz isn't, about which Baz is driving the Baz at any given moment.

A lot of you can do that sort of thing intuitively. I can't. So I've been building this out (showing you just the headers b/c spoilers):

This might stultify some (most?) of you. For me, though, it's freeing. When my brain isn't trying to keep track of everything, my imagination can unfurl.

"'Everything'?" you ask. "This isn't that plotty a fic." It's not, but it's already 2.5x longer than anything else I've written, which means developing skills I haven't needed before. Anyway, my BPD chart and I are having fun. We're very happy together.

Posting Plan

I pushed myself to get Ch. 10 up before leaving home for three weeks, because Ch. 9 had ended on such a wretched note. While I was happy to have gotten it up, I didn't love the self-imposed time crunch (though betas @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, and @thewholelemon were fuckin' heroes). Feeling rushed had me stressing and second-guessing choices that were probably fine.

My plan now is to pause updates until I have at least a very rough first draft of the final chapter, then post it all at regular intervals. I know a longish pause means some folks who'd been reading along will wait until it's complete, if they return at all. To those folks--sorry, and I get it, and thank you for reading in the first place, and I love you.

Tags and shy waves to @brendughh  @beastmonstertitan  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @carryonmylovelies  @creepyspice

@comesitintheclover @cows4247 @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy@chen-chen-chen-again-chen

@chronicallyhomoerotic @drowninginships @dragoneggos @excalisbury @emeryhall

@erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fight-surrender @fatalfangirl @gay-at-ikea

@fiend-for-culture @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @arthurkko @j-nipper-95

@gekkoinapeartree @goblindad-emoshit @henreyettah @hertragedyconnoisseur @hushed-chorus

@icarus-n-flames @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @iamamythologicalcreature

 @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @im-gettingby @youarenevertooold

@monbons @mooncello @raenestee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @messofthejess

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies! :)

hipsterteller asked:

I saw the artwork of Jade and Rook, and the only thing I could say is-

"Oh please tell me they didn't kill someone"

+

Anonymous asked:

Yep, both weirdos doing weird stuff. Also, context on their murder?

I really love how the first ask is in denial, hoping for the best, and the second one is “alright who did they kill this time” LOL

Unfortunately though, there is no context, I’m just sure this is something both of them do, so it’s only a matter of time until they stumble upon each other. It would definitely be funny…

I keep joking about Jade just feeding randos with his mushrooms, even though it’s not really how mushrooms work, but I’ll keep telling this joke until the day I die and get buried in the forest myself lol

Anonymous asked:

MEGARA!

YES!!!!! <3 <3 <3

Your childhood crushes really cement one’s type… we rewatched Hercules about a year ago, and it really made me remember just how much I loved this girl.

Anonymous asked:

seeing idia in a consensual relationship/situation with azul is like a jumpscare on this page

Thank you Anon!! I’m genuinely happy that you’re so used to seeing messed-up stuff that anything wholesome seems surprising lol We really do have our preferences…

But if that makes it easier, with these two it’s almost always just a fleeting moment before they start arguing again over something super unimportant or messing up each other’s lives. There is no way these could actually coexist without it lol

Anonymous asked:

Ironically enough if Azul was Regina I could see Vil being a decent Janis

He doesn't share a lot of the same fashion traits as her but he is honest and can hold a grudge for a long time

(this is related to one reply from this post)

Wow, Vil as Janis is something I never considered. This type of pettiness is closer to Vil’s, that’s true lol

Jamil would also maybe work as Janis.

But now all I can think about is Vil in a grungy-punky look… a complete delusion, but an aesthetically pleasing one.

Anonymous asked:

This sounds a bit too mean (to Malleus), but what reactions do you think he may have if Lilia's fucking him and accidentally moans his mother's name instead 👀

Since we can’t say anything about ch7 yet (still haven’t watched it), so there might be any specific aspect that I’m missing, but in general I’m pretty sure Malleus is going to be super damn pissed if Lilia moaned any name that isn’t his while they have sex lol He might even get angry and destroy everything and only then go “wait what?” realising what the name was.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I might bombard the inbox with thoughts so sorry in advance! I lowkey see Sebek and Silver starting as a thing after realizing Malleus and Lilia were a thing (I find the idea Silver having the Windows reloading sound in his mind as he’s like “Ooooooooh” when realizing his two dads are lovers really funny), and I’m currently writing a fic based of Ch.7 where Sebek kissed Silver finally during the fight, making them official finally

No worries, as long as you don’t mind waiting. You know how it is with me and replies lol, but I’m slowly but surely replying to everything.

Bonding over the trauma of realisation that Malleus and Lilia are a thing lol well jokes aside, it’s probably not as traumatic for Silver, but the realisation could still be the “oh” moment for sure. Let Malleus and Lilia be an example for the younglings lol

Good luck with your fic!^^

Anonymous asked:

Hear me out: Fem Idia with the song Worst Taste In Girls by Charley

Alright now that I’ve finally listened to the song!

She really does have the worst taste in girls… Although, she has even less autonomy in her love life than the heroine of the song unfortunately lol But Idia is prone to thinking that whenever things go kinda well, it’s never going to last long.

[themuseoftheviolets]

former friends

sat down to write 'til my dying day last night but ended up writing emmeline and pandora post first war angst instead. so here, have this: (this was intended as platonic but i feel like it can also be read as romantic from pandora's side)

wc: 1,148

On top of a hill behind a house in the shape of a rook, stands a place of rest. It is not quite a graveyard, and there no bodies buried there, no uneasy souls to haunt the people who live within it's space.

Emmeline approaches the gravestones and spits on them.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asks, keeping her gaze on the plaques. The first one reads beloved friend, the second beloved brother. Emmeline feels rage forming in the pit of her stomach. That word doesn't belong there, to these people. There is nothing about them to love anymore.

At least not for Emmeline. But for the woman that is standing behind her, they were worth loyalty that they didn't deserve.

"Because I wanted to see you, because I miss you." Pandora says, and Emmeline scoffs.

"You lost the right to miss me when you sided with them." There is venom on her tongue now, spitting poison onto every person she talks to. It has been this way for years, she can no longer remember what it felt like to be soft.

"I didn't choose a side." Pandora says, stubborn and unyielding, like she's always been.

"But you did.” Emmeline argues, and her voice is raspy and ragged. “You saw the snakes on their arms and you still let them be in your life. You chose them."

“They were my friends.”

“I was your friend!” Emmeline snaps, turning around to face Pandora. She looks both sixteen and sixty, both light and heavy. She has a baby strapped to her chest, a child that Emmeline has never met, a child that she should have met. She takes a deep breath, holds it for as long as she can until it starts to burn her lungs, then releases. “And you sure as hell didn’t choose me.”

"You chose to erase six years of history." Pandora says. Her voice isn’t the same anymore, changed by years of screaming matches and curses. It’s a wonder their vocal cords still work at all, Emmeline thinks. “You love them, I know you do. You can say whatever you want to your new friends, tell whichever lie helps you sleep at night, but I know you want them back just as much as I do.”

“No, I don’t.” Emmeline shakes her head. The lie comes easily, after years of practice. She has told it to herself and to Dorcas and to every person in the Order. She tells it to her reflection in the mirror everyday, repeats it like affirmations whenever she looks at the stick and poke tattoo on her leg that she let Evan do in sixth year; the one matching with Barty, the design that Regulus drew for them.

I hate them, she thinks, I hope they rot in hell. Fuck Regulus Black, fuck Evan Rosier, fuck Barty Crouch Jr.

Sometimes, she’ll say fuck Pandora, too.

I hope their deaths were slow and painful, I hope Barty suffers for the rest of his life.

On particularly hard nights, she’ll drink half a bottle of firewhiskey and she’ll wish that Pandora is miserable for the rest of her life.

But now, when she looks into her former friend’s eyes, looks at the bundle of white hair resting against her chest, she can’t quite bring herself to curse her.

“I miss you.” Pandora says, and Emmeline knows it’s true. Pandora is many things, but a liar is not one of them. She and Emmeline are opposites that way. “Don’t you miss me?”

“I can’t forgive you.” Emmeline lies again, because she can’t help it. Cruelty sits at the tip of her tongue, the truth lays buried deep inside her chest.

Pandora looks hurt by it, and in this moment Emmeline hates herself more than she hates her former friends.

“I am not asking you to forgive me, or them.” Pandora says, taking a step forward. She is eye to eye with Emmeline and stares her down with a courage that Emmeline has never possessed. All she wants to do is look away, avoid Pandora's presence because it is easier to tell herself she never wants to see her again that way. Easier to lose someone you love when you're not seeing them everyday. “I want you in my life again, Emmy, I want you in Luna’s life. You were supposed to be her godmother, you and Re–”

She cuts herself off but Emmeline knows what she was going to say. You and Regulus, my best friends, my child’s protectors. Guilt is an ocean in her mind that she dives in daily, anger is the sand she lays on when she dries herself off.

It wasn't always this way. Before any hints of war, before there were lines drawn and sides chosen, before Emmeline chose Dorcas and her friends and Pandora chose the friends with the Dark Mark on their arms; before all of that, they were a tight group, a family.

Emmeline, Pandora, Evan, Barty, Regulus.

But now the war is over and Regulus and Evan are dead, Barty is in Azkaban, and Emmeline and Pandora are still on a battlefield but Pandora is laying down her weapons, waving a white flag while Emmeline is still aiming an arrow at her chest.

“I love you, Emmy.” Pandora says, her eyes filling with tears. It breaks Emmeline’s heart, rips it right out of her chest. “I want you back.”

She could stay, could go inside the house and meet Pandora’s new life and be a part of it. She could stop fighting and she could admit that she misses her friends. She could hold Luna in her arms and tell her bedtime stories.

She doesn’t. Instead, Emmeline chooses to break Pandora’s heart in return.

“I’m leaving.” She tells her, voice firm and leaving no room for arguments. “Mary and I are moving away.”

“Mary,” Pandora spits her name like it’s poison. “Mary Macdonald, isn’t it? Your new friends’ friend. You’re choosing her instead of me.”

“Yes.”

Pandora turns to look at the gravestones and Emmeline wants to ask her if it was worth it, if they were worth it. She wants to say I told you so, to rub it in Pandora’s face that she made the wrong choice, and has lost Emmeline because of it. That Evan, Regulus and Barty were never going to change, that she should have cut them off like Emmeline did. That she should have chosen a side and that it shouldn't have been theirs. She wants to poke at Pandora's wounds until they are as big and bloody as her own. Until there is no hope of healing.

Was it worth it? Would you do it again?

She doesn’t, though, and Pandora simply nods and says, “I hope you’re happy.” before going back inside her house.

Emmeline is left standing in the ruins of her own heart.

[pandas-pandemonium]

I posted 164 times in 2022

That's 58 more posts than 2021!

45 posts created (27%)

119 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pandas-pandemonium

@raven-at-the-writing-desk

@twiwoncrackpopcorn

@yandere-daze

@bluemoondust

I tagged 110 of my posts in 2022

Only 33% of my posts had no tags

#twst spoilers - 8 posts

#twst chapter 6 - 8 posts

#asks - 7 posts

#twisted wonderland - 4 posts

#yandere sentient twst asks - 3 posts

#yandere obey me - 2 posts

#twst guide - 2 posts

#yeah - 2 posts

#happinesss - 2 posts

#yandere headcanons - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#if you want original works i have quotev for that but i haven't updated any of my stories in years so uhhh

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

MAN

they're Really keeping Idia/Ortho's OB design a secret huh

The painnn

I have so many things to talk about idk where to start??

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR LATEST CHAPTER 6 UPDATE

i cannot add a spoiler tag on mobile so SCROLL PAST!!!

Okay now...

First up:

the Pomefiore fan in me is So SOO happy??? Epel got his UM - Sleep Kiss, Rook being a good senpai and guiding Epel with his new magic spell, Vil being so happy to see them, Mann

His voice when he saw Epel like-🥺🥺🥺 Villl you missed your friends so muchh

I love Pomefiore so much, their dynamics are eVeRYTHiNG

Next

Ortho?? Um- Ortho?? He really went "Sayonara bitches" the moment the dorm leaders didn't agree with the plan to reset the world like- Buddy??

And also-

What happened to Ortho from "That Day" that Idia gave up so easily?? He really went down to the Titans chamber, then Phantom Ortho was all, "Nii-chan, I've been dreaming of the day i could see you!" and Idia was all, "Leave it up to your big bro" and just- OBed...

It's pretty cool seeing his OB gem tho. At least now we know where it is?

Finally:

Grim... It's crazy how he can sniff out blot immediate honestly. By the end of this chapter, Idek if Grim will be the same after this. Any sign of someone OBing sets him off into feral mode. Yuu is going to be so heartbroken when they find him.

Also, Idk if he broke out already, but if he hasn't, someone is going to get hurt when he does.

It'll be pretty funny if they found him gnawing on OB Idia's heels tho lmao

Anyways...

we now have to wait until April or longer... Man... and I read this in one sitting too

118 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

#4

Speculations on Claude's difference in character in 3 Hopes vs 3 Houses

Writing this because I'm so tired of seeing so many angry comments and tweets and posts about his supposed character assassination (among other things) and because I have faith in my guy. As of writing this, I've only just finished Part 1 of Golden Wildfire and only know some tidbits from spoilers (which I willingly exposed myself to)

The main gripe people seem to have about Claude's character is to do with how forceful and unwilling to hear people out and inquire about situations and people's motives. Personally, I don't see it as character assassination but rather a different way he could have developed if he hadn't gone through White Clouds in 3 Houses or met Byleth, or hadn't had to kill his half-brother, Shahid.

What I think was the turning point for Claude's forceful and aggressive actions, was very likely the event that he killed his own brother. We see traces of 3 Houses Claude, him trying to reason with Shahid and wanting to talk things out but alas, Shahid doesn't care and Claude ultimately makes the decision to kill him. Post-battle, we see Claude is very clearly affected by that event.

6 months later, Claude reforms the Alliance into the Leicester Federation and is placed as its king.

Perhaps it's all the stress built up from the war. The Alliance has been going through battle after battle and it's taking a toll on him. It doesn't help that because he wasn't in the Academy for a year to get to know his classmates and learn to trust others, he feels like as the Alliance Leader (as of Part 1), he has to shoulder all the decisions and be responsible for everything that happens. The Roundtable Conferences don't help with his frustrations either.

Through supports and the story itself, Claude has shown signs of disdain for the Alliance's system, but he hasn't really seen the need to change it, although it is inefficient. Then Shez comes along and goes, "Hey, why don't you make yourself the sole leader so decisions will go by faster during wartime?" and it opens up a possibility he hadn't even thought about. If he becomes the sole leader and doesn't need to go through the endless circling of decisions waiting for all 5 lords to come to a unanimous decision, things will be done faster and he can do what he wants to do quicker.

Back to Shahid's death and his impact on Claude's mental state - it definitely changed him. Perhaps after making the choice to kill his own blood, he made the decision to no longer hold back. He can't be too "soft" or hesitant anymore. He needs to be more resolved in his decisions and perhaps that is why we see the Claude we see in 3 Hopes. The aggressive, cutthroat Claude who doesn't consider choosing to hear people out. This can be seen in his decision to send troops to the 3 lords' territories to create public order instead of Lorenz's suggestion to send an envoy first. Claude even says that they'll "probably make half-baked excuses anyway" and that there's no point talking things out. This is pretty much where I've left off from the game, but it's clear that Shahid's refusal to reason with him still affects him.

I do think that perhaps the writers could have shown that a bit more, but Claude is way more reserved in his emotions and willingness to express himself and it may have been difficult to show that internal turmoil. Either way, I still think calling Claude's change of character, "character assassination" is going too far especially if you don't consider the prior events and the what-if's and differences in situation and events that occur between both games.

119 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

#3

I have a big weakness for self-aware, yandere characters so your headcanons are a miracle to me. Could you do something with Deuce where the player always compliments him whenever they get a card or see him? He is my best boy and I love him so darn much that I always louldy anounce it when I see him :,) Thank you!

A/N: Figured I should get this out since the 2022 January Masterchef event and the New Years event are so Deuce-focused. (he's a good boy and I love him)

Yan! Sentient! Twst AU - Deuce being complimented

Every time Deuce receives a compliment, he can't help but feel all warm and shy inside

You're just so nice! So kind! The fact that you acknowledge his efforts and his presence is so rewarding. He sometimes feels like he doesn't deserve all that praise

The compliments you give him fuels his desire to make sure the mirror gives you his cards more often - his Dorm SSR, his Birthday Suit SSR and more!

Unfortunately, despite having a UM, his magic still isn't strong enough to really have much of an effect on the gacha system

It does mean however, that your praise has a greater effect on the blue-haired first year

"You came home! My precious boy!"

Deuce has to do everything in his power to not overload in embarrassment

Yes, he's your precious boy and he hopes he won't ever lose that position

He's also especially thankful towards the developers of the game whenever he gets an event that he features in

It just means that you'll be paying more attention to him!

Deuce truly hopes that you'll always love him and that your attention and love for him doesn't wane any time soon.

If it does, he'll be truly heartbroken...

309 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

#2

Yandere! Mammon and his obsession with being "first"

Mild/Implied NSFW

Note: This is slightly spicy, and completely unprompted. Just something that's been sitting in the back of my mind lol. Please don't send me NSFW requests! My NSFW rule still applies to even mild spicy requests.

Mammon who learns that you're a virgin who's never had their first kiss

Mammon who insists on taking all your firsts upon learning about it, cockblocking all his brothers when they attempt to have some alone time with you; he can't risk you casually giving away your first kiss or first time to someone else, after all

"[Name], you've never had your first kiss?"

His eyes are wide, and his body trembling with pure ecstasy

"If you haven't then... I'll do it! I, the Great Mammon will be the one to give you all your firsts! After all, I am your first demon!"

If you let him, he's over the moon, bragging about it to anyone in passing

If not, well...he hates to do it, but he'll have to take it by force

Cornering you in your room, forcing you down on the bed as he steals your first kiss, impatiently undressing you, eager to take everything

Mammon's not going to let this chance slip by

He's the avatar of Greed and he's desperate to take and take whatever you've got

359 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Yandere! Asmo has been on my mind a lot lately

Mildly spicy headcanons, so mild you'll barely notice it

Asmo who claims to be so deeply in love that he wants everything about you

He wants to be in you, in some way or another and vice versa

Exceptionally clingy

"Hey MC, why don't we take a bath together? Just you and me~?"

If you refuse...well, he'll just take whatever you may have left behind

your bathwater

Absolutely loves it if you ever borrow his makeup or skincare products

It's like having his scent all over you!

May or may not take up the habit of using your lipbalm or lip products on his own

It's an indirect kiss! How romantic, no? Though he'd much prefer the real deal

Hates it if you ever wear someone else's perfume or get someone's scent on you

"Hey, whose shampoo did you use?"

"Mammon's?! Why didn't you ask me?!"

This simply won't do. He's dragging you to the bathroom to smother anything of his own onto your body

It's how he stakes his claim on you, after all

366 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[harmonizingsunsets]

Polin Week Day 4: Prompt - Jealousy

Touching A Live Wire

After dragging Colin by the arm through her and Eloise's flat with one hand, Penelope slams the door behind them with the other.

She folds her arms across her chest and looks him in the eye for the first time since they left her work party early. He'd looked apologetic, following her wordlessly to the car and remaining silent during the entire drive to the flat.  

"You have five seconds to apologize."

Colin sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Penelope, this is a misunderstanding."

"Five," she starts counting.

"I didn't mean to say it that loud!"

Penelope's lips curl further in anger. "Four."

"Wait, let me explain why I—."

"Three," she interrupts, tapping her foot loudly on the floor.

Colin tilts his head at her. "Pen, this is ridiculous."

"Two."

"Can't we just sit down and—." Pen opens her mouth, her lips forming the word one, but Colin looks alarmed and puts his hands out to stop her. "Fine, you're right. I'm sorry!"

Penelope breathes in relief. Despite the show she just put on, she didn't know what she would've done if she'd reached one. With Penelope's grade three students, she'd send them to the principal's office or write their names in the infraction book. But, Penelope didn't think those forms of punishment would've worked with Colin.

She moves her hands to her hips, pinning her gaze on him. "Sorry about what?"

"I'm sorry that I got a bit carried away."

"A bit carried away?" Penelope scoffs, causing him to flinch in guilt. "Colin, you yelled at my co-worker, "Penelope is too good for you," and then proceeded to knock over the punch bowl!"

"In my defense, whoever placed it there did a poor job. It was teetering on the edge of the table."

Penelope's jaw clenches. "I placed it on the table."

Colin's eyes go wide, adorably so, which she could appreciate more if she weren't so angry at him.

Well, she still does appreciate it a little. She's human, after all.

"Oh, then it was a lovely job!" Colin exclaims, trying to cover himself. "Perfect placement, angels in heaven would want you to be on punchbowl duty at every party."

"You think angels have parties?"

"No, of course not, but they host them. Can you imagine parties in heaven? Unlimited food, great entertainment, and you could dance with Pablo Picasso and Prince at the same time."

"You really think Picasso and Prince would run in the same social circles in—hey, don't distract me," she interrupts herself, pointing accusingly at him while biting back a grin. "I'm mad at you."

Colin takes a step forward, beginning to smirk. "Then why are you smiling?"

"It's an annoying side effect of being around you," Penelope explains grumpily. "But, I'm still angry."

Colin deflates. "I know. You  should be angry at me." He begins to pace, making Penelope worry that he's going to slip as she and Eloise just polished the floor yesterday. "I was way out of line. I shouldn't have yelled at your co-worker. It was disrespectful."

Penelope exhales, her anger beginning to fade, but confusion still causing her head to ache.

"I don't understand. Why did you yell that at him? And why did you spend the whole evening scowling at him and steering me away from him the entire time?"

Colin doesn't respond, looking down at his shoes. His behavior worries her, as Colin's never been one to avoid telling her something. His eyes are always open, full of honesty and understanding. But lately, they've been clouded.

The clouds are unsettling. Penelope misses the sun's warmth, and she can't take the chill anymore, especially because she doesn't know what prompted the weather change.

"You've been so unlike you the past few weeks," Penelope quickly says before she loses her nerve. "You've been off ever since he started working with me at the beginning of this month."

Colin shifts his feet. "No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have! Whenever I bring him up, you completely shut me out, you've avoided my attempts for you to meet him, and I caught you rolling your eyes when I was talking to him on the phone," she lists, furrowing her eyebrows. "What do you have against him?"

"Nothing."

"Colin, tell me."

He shrugs but with tense shoulders. "There's nothing to tell."

Penelope presses on, taking a step closer. "Obviously, you have something against him."

"No, I don't," he says, taking a step back.

She steps forward, feeling a rook on a chessboard that's slowly advancing on his pawn as he moves it backward one square at a time.

"Be honest."

"I am."

"No, you're not. I know you well enough to know when you're lying."

"Penelope…"

"Please, Colin, just tell me what's really got you so—."

"He's into you!" Colin blurts out.

Penelope freezes, her rook stopping one square before her victory.

Colin grimaces at himself, taking a deep breath as if his words knocked the wind out of him.

"What?"

"He's into you," Colin repeats, his voice quieter than before. "I don't like the way he looks at you. He obviously wants something more than friendship."

Penelope knows she shouldn't, but she laughs. "That's absurd."

Colin's expression drops even further, beginning to frown. "Why is that absurd? "

"Because it's me. Why would he be interested in me?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

Penelope narrows her eyes at him. "Colin, don't play dumb."

"I'm not. You're the one that's playing dumb."

"Excuse me?"

"Pen, you're intelligent, beautiful, funny, and kind," Colin describes, slowly raising his hands and placing them on her arms. There's something in his eyes as he speaks so vehemently, a gleam that sends a thrill through her body. "You're the perfect package. Who wouldn't want you?"

Something in his words causes her to pause, reassessing the entire evening. Once she does, seeing a supercut of Colin's reactions towards her co-worker and his behavior around the two of them, her mind reaches one conclusion—a conclusion which quickens her heartbeat.

However, it also inspires a newfound sense of motivation to stop tiptoeing at the edge of the cliff she's been on for years.

But, she has to make sure Colin is truly standing on the same cliff as her before jumping.

Penelope swallows nervously. "Alright, let's say you're right and that I'm the perfect package—."

"You are."

"Ok, let's say that I am," Penelope agrees, taking a deep breath before crafting her following words. "So, why shouldn't he like me?"

"It's not that he shouldn't like you because, of course, he should. But—he shouldn't," Colin blabbers, getting a cute crinkle in between his brows as he struggles to explain himself adequately, which only fuels her wonderful but terrifying theory. "Because… he's—that guy is not right for you. "

Penelope inches closer, so her chest brushes against his body. He intakes a sharp breath, and she has to restrain herself from doing the same thing, knowing the gravity of this moment—of getting this exactly right.

"But I'm the perfect package, so I'm perfect for him, right?"

"No—I mean, yes, he'd be lucky to have you. But that doesn't mean you should be with him." His eyes flicker to her chest, and back up at her eyes, and back to his shoes, his face becoming more red with each passing second. "He—he has a horrible laugh, he likes Star Trek over Star Wars, and he took way more than his share of the cheese platter—."

"Those reasons are inconsequential. You know they are."

Colin opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. So, Penelope raises one of her hands, moving up his arm and to his neck.

The path of Penelope's fingertips creates a live wire, causing his skin to brim with electricity everywhere she touches.  But, it doesn't shock her. Instead, she's part of the electrical current and feels a hum of energy in her palm that his touch provides.

"So, there must be another reason you don't want me to be with him," Penelope continues, forcing her voice not to shake. "Right?"

"No," he shakes his head after a few beats.

She bites her lip, trying to hold on to hope. "Really, there's not one reason?"

"Um…no?"

Penelope sighs, dropping her hands from his neck, feeling stupid. How foolish was she to think ahead of herself like this? Clearly, Colin's answer was not what she predicted. Just like always, she got carried away in romantic notions, as she always seemed to, when Colin’s around.

"Ok," she says, clearing her throat. Colin frowns at the sudden distance, but Penelope can't see his expression as she's closing her eyes to try and banish the inclination to cry. "I know, it's been a long day, so let's forget it. I think I should—."

Penelope doesn't get to answer. Because, suddenly, Colin swoops forward, his hands cupping her cheeks and his lips crashing onto hers.

If touching his skin created a live wire, kissing Colin makes a high electricity voltage, one strong enough to power an entire city.

Colin's lips brush against her softly, but there's a desperate edge to it, one akin to the desperation she feels as she clutches the collar of his jacket and pulls him closer.

When Colin breaks apart for a breath, he rests his forehead on hers.

"I was jealous," he whispers.

Penelope pulls her head back a little so that she can meet his eyes. "What?"

"That's why I didn't want you to be with him, because I want you to be with me," Colin confesses, pursing his lips. "I know that's immature. I'm sorry. You should be with whoever you want to be with, even if it's not me. It's my fault that I was too much of a coward until—Ow!" He abruptly yelps, looking down at his arm, which Penelope just pinched. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Penelope ducks her head, the corners of her lips twitching into a smile. "I was just checking to make sure you weren't an illusion."

Colin smiles in the incandescent way that made Penelope fall in love with him in the first place. He tips her chin up, forcing her to meet his bright eyes filled with an emotion that wraps around her heart and squeezes it.

"I'm real, I'm very much real," Colin assures, his thumb skimming her cheek. "I'll prove it to you."

He closes the distance between them again. But, Penelope is the one to deepen the kiss. She feels a wave of heat run through her at Colin's moan. Also, she experiences a surge of confidence, proud that she was the one to elicit such a glorious sound.

Penelope wraps her arms around her neck, finding it slightly annoying that he's so tall, as she has to lean up on her toes to kiss him. Colin must sense her struggle, quickly amending the issue by swiftly raising her into the air.

But, as her legs sweep up as she's taken into his arms, she accidentally kicks the bowl that holds her and Eloise's apartment keys off of the table.

It crashes loudly onto the floor, the ceramic breaking into multiple tiny pieces.

Colin and Penelope's lips break from each other's, looking down at the mess near her feet. Then, for a moment, neither of them say anything, only staring at the floor.

"Well…at least there was no punch in there this time," Colin says, sidestepping the broken pieces of the bowl.

Penelope laughs, smiling against his lips as she pulls him in for another kiss.

While she has a lot of explaining to do about the dramatic scene the two of them caused when she shows up at work tomorrow and will have to answer Eloise about the broken bowl, she can't find it in herself to care.

When he opens his eyes briefly, looking at her and moving a strand of hair behind her ear, she no longer sees clouds. Instead, she only sees the sun, and she wants to bask in its glow forever.

Penelope knows how idealistic that thought is, but as Colin begins kissing down her neck after moving them to the couch, she thinks it's quite a reasonable notion.

[cosmicbash]

Thinking about an AU where Kelly runs a podcast/radio show reviewing and discussing new music/artists in the hiphop/rap game.

He still writes and produces his own music and is a huge Eminem fan but their beef hasn't ever happened in this universe.

When he gets a call from Paul asking if he'd like to interview Em about his newest album he all but faints right there on the spot. It's like a dream come true and he actually has Rook pinch him after they've ended the call and scheduled a phone in spot on next Friday's program. Sure he's not getting to meet his idol face to face but just getting to talk to him one on one is already a huge win in Kelly's book so he's over the moon.

Paul didn't tell him to keep it a secret so of course that means the upcoming interview is all Kelly can talk about in the days leading up to it. Every episode he records has the topic somehow sidetracking over to Em by the end. It gets to the point where even his fans are rolling their eyes and calling him a fanboy but Kelly doesn't care. He's just too excited.

When Friday rolls around Kelly is all but dancing into the studio, a starbucks cup in hand and his face stuck on a permanent smile. Ready to start his early prep work and sort our his questions for the 50th time while he waits for Em's call. (It took an extreme amount of self control for him not to abuse the fact Paul gave him Em's cell number)

Em's album is bumping at max volume in the headphones on his ears when he shoulder bumps his way through the studio door. His lips wrapped tight around the straw of his drink when his eyes land on the brunette casually reclining in his chair. A few of the assorted knickknacks he leaves decorating his desk twirling between the man's hands.

Kelly actually chokes on his drink.

By the time he's done loudly coughing and gasping for air the poor host is left praying that he didn't somehow spit coffee straight across the room at Em. He's feeling humilated enough by the fact that the first time they meet he almost kills himself with an iced coffee. The last thing he needs is to ruin the guys shoes or outfit ontop of it all.

When Em laughs the blonde is honestly tore between wanting to run and hide or melt. Everyone who's even heard of Em is aware of how rare it is to catch the rapper smiling, but that's exactly what he's doing. Kelly's idol is full on snickering at him and swiveling back and forth in his chair like his poor attempt at suicide by starbucks is the funniest thing he's seen in a long time. It's so mesmerizing Kelly almost completely misses the casual "You okay there kid?"

But there's no way he could actually miss it. Not a direct question from Eminem. His clumsy introduction has somehow earned him the mans undivided attention and Kelly is sure as shit going to embrace that whole heartedly.

It takes a few too quick motions before his headphones are dropped back around his neck and his feet are stable enough to carry him closer. Mouth rambling a mile a minute as he reaches out to shake his guests hand and apologize. "What? Y-yeah. Great. Never been better. That uh, sorry about- you know, I- I don't choke like that usually. I'm pretty good at...n-not choking-"

Em's eyebrows are rising and Kelly honestly doesn't think his face can get any redder than it is but he continues nonetheless.

"You're really here though! Paul- uh, P-Paul said we'd be doing a phone interview? I didn't realize we'd switched it-"

"Yeah, I'm not really big on doing this kinda shit over the phone. Is this a problem? Cuz we can just call it all off if you-"

Just the mere suggestion they cancel it has Kelly near screaming in the rapper's face. His fingers clamping onto Em's hand like a vice. "What? No! No! This is perfect! So much better-"

Em's mouth is quirking up at the edges in another smile and Kelly can't help but feel even more flustered. He's definitely making a fool of himself.

"I think so too." Em's other hand claps down over his and Kelly swears he's hallucinating an affectionate brush of thumb over his knuckles. Just being this close to his idol and touching hands has every nerve in his body feeling overloaded as it is.

Another full minute must pass with them just staring at eachother before Kelly's brain finishes rebooting and he regains enough common sense to end the moment, his cheeks still feeling like theyre on fire while he stutters his way through the rest of an introduction and the rough time line of the episode. It's not until he's settling down into the chair opposite of the other man that he realizes they're going to have to switch positions. A request he's not exactly confident on making but luckily avoids all together because as soon as he's finished explaining Em brings it up himself.

"So are we both going to share the guest chair today, or do you wanna switch? I'm down to just let you climb up on my lap too if that works-"

It's borderline flirting and Kelly almost finds himself choking again on his nervous sip of coffee.

Kelly has no idea how he's going to survive a few hours alone in the studio with the rapper, let alone record a whole podcast without the audience comparing him to a tomato.

((And then Em flirts with Kelly so much throughout the first recording that they actually have to scrap the whole session and start over. No amount of editing able to cover up the blondes flustered responses or Em's downright lewd jokes and teasing. Paul is pissed and Kelly's fans are questioning why the episode is being post poned another day. But Em makes it up to him with a dinner invitation and the promise that Paul's going to have Denaun sit in on the next session tomorrow to keep him in line. Cuz Em's a horny bastard who took one look at Kelly's cute rambling on the leadup to their interview and couldn't resist showing up in person to try and seduce the poor guy))

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 88) "Bad Kids"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@crystalbaby12

"FUCK!! What day is it?" Luna asks as she lifts her face after railing another line of 30's.

"Thursday..?" Colson answers her, confused.

"Time?" She asks to his 542P. "Motherfucker..." Luna mutters.

Colson asks What's Up as she lights a joint. Luna missed her therapy session scheduled at 5P, she explains with a sigh.

Taking a moment to call Kylie. Luna assures her, she simply forgot and isn't MIA. She watches Colson snort a long line of Adderall while she's on the phone, puffing on the joint.

Once she's ended the call, she passes it to him as they get dressed. Both in all black. Colson in a black T, black jeans and his Vans. Luna in an oversized, long sleeve black T. Large enough to wear as a dress. Under, she has on sheer black stockings and tight, black spandex shorts. Her Docs, jewelry and a purple lip finishing off her look.

"You're gonna skate in that?" Colson questions her attire.

"Watch me." She replies with a smirk.

"Oh, I fucking will." He grins.

Throwing her school bag of goodies on his back. Colson grabs Luna's ass and their jackets as they head out of their suite.

-------------------------------------------------

The bar at The Ambassador is empty.

Until The Ten of Them pile inside. Loud and rowdy as usual. Taking up the entire wooden row of the bar.

They order drinks as they wait for their table at the Reserve Lounge inside the hotel. An Old Fashioned for Luna and a Heineken for Colson.

Grinning, he whispers into her ear. "You still taste better."

Luna shakes her head with a light laugh. Cheeks turning pink.

"I WANT a ribeye with fried onions and mushrooms. And a fucking baked potato. I don't give a FUCK about anything else." Sam states.

She's sitting to Luna's left, while Colson's on her right. Baze, who's next to Sam, leans up on the bar to look down at Luna.

"Bro. I think your girl's my twin." He laughs. Looking at Sam, then at Luna, finally back at Sam. "We gonna fuck up some beef TONIGHT!! He laughs again as he lifts his drink to Sam's agreement.

"Who we fucking up?" Slim hollers from the other end of the bar.

"BEEF!!!" Sam and Baze shout in unison.

Erupting them both into laughter along with Colson and Luna.

Luna gives her friend a Lil Look. Sam can get along with everyone. Same as she can hold her own against anyone. Being taken advantage by no one. Sam's never been about that Relationship Life. Knowing her friend too well, Luna can read her better then her favorite book. There's a LoveBuzz happening at the bar. Luna reading the signs before Sam can even write them herself.

Luna glances over at Colson. He catches the glimmer in her eye. They both cheese at the idea of their friends together. With no words said. Just One Look.

-------------------------------------------------

Once sat, they continue to converse loudly. The Ten of Them having no volume control. With more drinks and appetizers ordered, they're even louder. And so out of place.

Their server asking his Front of the House manager to watch them. Unaware of who they are and sure of the likelihood that they're gonna Dine N Dash. Feeling dumb upon his boss's explanation. 

"I don't know how to skate..." Ashleigh complains after they order.

She's one of three. Benny, nor Bullet grind either. AJ being an undercover SkaterBoy to Luna's unknown intrigue.

"There's one of those Rent-A-Bike stations in front." Rook chimes in.

"You want MY ass on a BIKE!??" Benny asks in disbelief.

"Weeble Wobbles Weeble but they don't fall down!" Luna grins at her friend from across their dinner table.

Benny laughs. He adores Luna, he has since that night at the strip club. He fears her too. Being from NYC also, he knows what she's connected to.... And fully aware of what she's capable of on her own.

"Ya gonna catch me Brooklyn, if I weeble too far?" Benny teases.

"Fucken' right, Benz." Luna grins at him, arms open wide.

Somehow, he knows that although he's the bodyguard and Luna's tiny as fuck. THAT Brooklyn Bitch would have him should ANYTHING erupt. It's who she is.

"We riden!!!" Benny shouts to Bullet's complete bemusement.

Bullet doesn't know Luna. He thinks he likes her but he's not sure, not having any experience to trust her. Irritated with Benny, he eats his steak and sips his wine.

The Other Nine of Them are as happy as fat clams. Engaged, boisterous and fully enjoying each other. Filling their bellies with food before The Magic.

Bullet doesn't know yet.... But he will.

-------------------------------------------------

After a paid for dinner and proper tip, they head to The Bus.

Climbing on, all of them bursting with delicious goodness. Passing eight joints between The Ten of Them, they settle their bellies easily. All full. All sighing.

Sam pops up first. That Bitch wants them slushies.

Scooping the WHOLE jar, all Ten of Them wind up with full solo cups of Magic. Like fucking water ice. Sam handing out a plastic spoon with each of their solo cup treats.

"I shouldn't eat this...." Bullet confides in Benny.

"You won't survive this night if you don't." Benny reassures him as he takes a bite of sweet, delicious Magic Slushies.

Poor Bullet. He thinks he knows... But he has no idea.

-------------------------------------------------

Splitting from The Bus, they head over to the Light District on boards and bikes. Obliging Ashleigh's one request.

"It's FUCKING closed!!???!!!" She shouts in frustration.

Kansas City's Light District closes at 5P. What THE fuck kinda shit is that?? Seriously... Why?

Ashleigh's really upset. All agreeing with her that It's Bullshit.

Luna asking her if she'd like Her to Burn it Down.

Ashleigh answers with a laughing and adoring NO. The Magic of Wild Mushrooms creeping around her brain. She appreciates Luna's brass love for her, but Ashleigh isn't violent. Never has been.

"Let's find somewhere else." She coaxes her defender as she climbs back on her rented bike.

--------------------------------------------------

Rolling through Kansas City, they're tripping their BALLS and PUSSIES off. Colors are streaking. Bodies are loose. The school bag packed with water instead of alcohol. Luna handing off bottles to everyone's gratitude.l

Lighting a joint as they roll through Kansas City. Luna passes it to Sam. Colson has his own lit. Passing it to Slim.

Firing another, Luna slows her pace. Riding beside Bullet, she grins. Hitting it multiple times before she speaks...

"I'm not THAT bad. I promise." A wink and grin following her words as she passes him the joint before pushing off to fly past him.

-------------------------------------------------

"Fuck you ain't...." Bullet thinks as she passes him. Amused by the tiny blonde girl and her wild punch.

------------------------------------------------

They skate and bike around Kansas City. Watching the lights as they laugh. Passing joints and water amongst themselves as they eat their Magic Slushies.

Sliding up on a corner, Colson stops.

"Where the fuck are we?" He asks confused.

"In the Dark Pits of Hell, where we belong!!" Luna laughs, snapping his picture in the moment.

"He's so fucking beautiful." She thinks, not being able to stop her grandfather from lingering in her soul.

"C'mon Lovey!!" She shouts as they boot, scoot and boogie.

Ashleigh can't hold her shit together. Tripping balls, she doesn't know how to make the bike work anymore.

"Can we sit?" She pleads.

Always one to spot a park, Luna's on it.

"Come on, Buddy." She says, grabbing the back of Ashleigh's seat along with a handle bars.

Pushing Ashleigh along with ALL of Luna's force. There's a park ahead. The Holy Grail of her ENTIRE existence.

"We're almost there, Boo!" Luna's wide smile encourages Ashleigh's tired legs.

Hitting the park, Ashleigh drops her bike like a rock.

"Uggghhhh....." She exhales.

Luna grabs her board and Ashleigh's hand as the others arrive. She's undoubtedly Their Leader.

-------------------------------------------------

After swinging and climbing and running around the playground, they tire like little kids. Finding the perfect spot, Luna slips her bag off Colson's shoulders. Pulling out sheets as she displays them in front of their view.

All Ten of Them admire the glowing sight of Kansas City. Some standing in amazement, others sitting on the sheets in awe.

They're tripping their souls out as they stare into the sky line. Colors crossing and dancing. Bodies tingling as their third eyes see everything.

Laying and talking. The Ten of Them are curled upon the sheets, melting their faces off.

Pulling out her bag of tricks, Luna hands Colson four tennis balls to his delight. Face shining, he hops up to juggle them.

Next, she produces crayons and coloring books. Laying them out, they're grabbed by Ashleigh and Rook.

Slim finds the Nerf football. Sam jumping up for a solid toss.

Baze is stuck on the ground. Luna lighting a joint. Hitting it hard, she hands it to him.

"Fucken' Loons, Maaan..." Is all he can say in accepting pleasure.

AJ is lost in the stars on the sheets also. Magic Slushies winning. Luna handing him his own joint to his delight.

Benny is running around with Sam and Slim. Bullet still as a statue.

"Did you not drink the Kool-Aid...." Luna asks.

She had noticed his solid demeanour. Tall, strong. Relentless.

Arms crossed, he admits he had a scoop or two.

"Only a SCOOP!! BRO!!" Luna looks at him with disappointment. "We're not so crazy that you can't enjoy yourself, Sugar." Luna tries to reassure him. "I can't believe you didn't eat your slush." Luna looks at him, irritated. "What a fucking waste."

"I knooooww." Bullet sheepishly admits.

"Well, lucky YOU, Motherfucker!!" Luna grins.

She always has a secret stash. Pulling out a small container of pure mushrooms, she insists he eats them with her. NOW.

Luna's a rock when it comes to negotiating. Bullet sharing and eating the full half ounce she has stashed.

She grins as they chew. Her bright smile welcoming him into Her World.

There's a LOT going on in their group. Rook and Ashleigh are happily coloring. Slim, Sam, Benny and AJ toss the Nerf ball. Baze is still SO lost in the sky on his back.

Luna grabs Colson, dragging Baze and Bullet with them. It's football time, she calls to Benny.

"Hut!! Hut!!" Luna shouts to their colorful minds.

Their game is a ShitShow. It's hilarious to watch them toss, tumble and roll amongst themselves. None can see correctly and all of them have noodle legs.

Somehow, Luna can throw and avoid getting caught. Easily scoring a 14 to 0.

"Mothafucka, WHAT?... Mothafucka WHO??? Luna laughs.

She's never been a gracious winner. Laughing too hard.

She's caught by a "Fuuuck yooou?!!"

Along with a loving, grinning, full on body hit from Sam. They roll in the grass, wrestling and laughing. Each calling Uncle when they find themselves locked on their sides.

--------------------------------------------------

Laying in the night's sky, life comes into view. Playing Cold War Kids on one of their phones. Music drifts softly.

All Ten sprawled on sheets, they catch the beauty of Kansas City. Laying together in harmony.

Until Colson wants to take Luna away.

"Come're..." He begs

"Hmmmm..." She rolls her head up towards him.

Eyes dancing as she absorbs is face. Their colorful ensemble watching the stars like 4th graders at the Planetarium for the first time.

Colson grabs Luna's hand, pulling her out of the hype.

Yards away with only his phone, Colson holds Luna tight. She's the only one he's ever danced with outside of Casie and weird Middle School stuff. Tripping his face off, he's overwhelmed with feelings for Luna. His beloved.

In the darkness with just them two, Colson holds Luna close and firm. The lyrics to the original Swing Life Away swirl behind them. Causing Colson to hold Luna tighter then ever.

🎶Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words🎶

He sings softly, ducking his head into her ear.

She loves him. So fucking much. More then she could've ever imagined. Those blue eyes that see right into her soul. Those fingers that know every inch of her body. That heart that just fucking gets it.

Their love is fresh in her brain. Breaking her heart as her soul ignites. Believing him as sings to her that they Could Get By Just Fine on Minimum Wage.

Luna can't handle it and starts to cry. The drugs have her overwhelmed. Feelings flying everywhere. Heart dangling on her long sleeve.

"Please don't fucking die." She whimpers into Colson's chest.

He holds her as she gently sobs.

His mind is twisting too. Making him not sure of what to say. Then it pops.

"Cockroach." He states like he's answering the most important question of his life.

This stops Luna. Colson's words sliding inside her body, wrapping themself around her heart.

Feeling her sigh, he scoops her off the ground as if he's going to carry her over a threshold. With her arms draped around him, they stare into each other's trusting eyes. No words need to be said. They're the only two in the world right now. Luna strokes his cheek, as Colson leans in to kiss her.

There's a whole body explosion happening between the two of them once their lips touch. It's part drugs but mostly insatiable love.

Not even caring, in their own world, Colson slowly brings himself and Luna to the ground. Never breaking their kiss. He runs his hands though her hair, making her brain tingle.

Climbing on top of her, he holds himself up as her hands slowly trail his body. Their touch is almost orgasmic as he sucks on her neck and she slides her hands down his pants. Gripping his ass.

His free hand up her shirt dress. Sliding under her bra, playing with her nipple peircing. Pulling at her shorts.

"I need to be inside of you." Colson says in between kissing her neck and face.

"Mhhhmmm." Luna agrees.

He pulls down his pants as Luna slides out of the shorts. She doesn't understand her stockings though. Both too far gone to figure out how to get them off. Taking off her Docs not even an actual thought for either.

Colson reaches back into his pants. Pulling Luna towards him by the crotch of her tights, he stretches them out as he flicks his blade open.

Luna's heart immediately begins to race as he brings the knife towards her pussy. Slitting a hole through her tights, he rips them open. She bites her lip as she watches him.

Both of their bodies throbbing for the other. Mouths salivating as they look upon each other.

The world EXPLODES as Colson slowly slides into Luna. Both moaning out a pleased FUCK.

Colson takes his time. Gliding along Luna's clenched walls. Every inch and touch is overwhelming. If he goes to fast, he's convinced he may die.

Luna can't handle anything. Dying a thousand tiny deaths as she clings to him. Shifting into his rhythm. Kissing his mouth and face. She has to keep her eyes closed. Looking at him is too much. Fearing her heart will explode from his blue eyes.

They could've fucked for 5mins or 5hrs. They have no idea. Luna having multiple mental and physical orgasms before Colson allows himself to let loose.

Laying inside and on top of her, Colson feels at ease. There's no place in the world he'd rather be. This moment being one of his most content in life.

"I love you, Kitten." He breathes out.

"Mmmm... I love you." Luna mummers into his neck with her legs still holding him close.

"ARE YOU TWO FUCKING AGAIN!!??!" Sam shouts across the field.

Colson pulls his face out of Luna's hair to look at her. His face is still too beautiful for her.

"Jesus fucking Christ. She's like the kid sister I never had." Colson's wide eyes say in amazement.

Making Luna laugh, he pops out of her.

"An annoying kid sister." He says with a pout.

Shifting down, Colson lays on Luna's chest. Stroking his hair, they enjoy their bliss for a bit more before they rejoin the others.

"Yeah, we were Fucking. Kid Sister." Colson states as him and Luna climb back into the pile.

Who you talking too?" Ashleigh asks, confused.

"Ol sex police Sam over here." He tells her to the group's laughter.

"You're like fucking rabbits." Sam shoots back.

"That's why she calls me Bunny." Colson states matter of fact, making Luna roll on her side in a fit of giggles. It's funny because it's true.

All of their bodies riding private rollercoasters as their brains link back up. The Ten of Them talk about life, aliens, what they think God may be, if they'd like to live under the sea like Sponge Bob and all kinds of other weird shit. Figuring out the key to life. Love and friendship. Even Bullet enjoying himself.

--------------------------------------------------

Back at the Ambassador no one wants to separate. The Boys drag mattresses from the other rooms to Colson and Luna's suite. It's sleepover time again.

Collecting water for everyone, Luna dutifully passes out Xanax along with vitamins D and B6 to aid in their recovery.

Surrounded by pillows, blankets and love, they watch reruns Rugrats. Burning and laughing as they slowly come down.

Laying with Colson wrapped behind her, Luna feels so at peace. Her eyes are closed as he strokes her hair.

"I'm so fucking in love with you.... I can see it radiating off of us." Colson says with his eyes closed too.

Opening her eyes, Luna jumps off the mattress. Body flying across the room.

"IT'S NOT OUR LOVE!!! THE FUCKING TRASH CAN'S ON FIRE!!!" She shouts.

Grabbing it, she hauls ass into the bathroom. Tossing it into the tub before turning on the water.

Everyone is kinda numb, shocked or can't comprehend what just happened. Bullet taking notice that Luna's quick.

Climbing back into Colson, Luna asks What The Fuck Is Up With Them and Fire. He shakes his head, not knowing. Kissing the back of hers, he holds her firmly as they fall asleep together.

Benny turning to Bullet. Giving him a knowing eye, he warns that Tonight Was Easy.

He'll get it eventually.

--------------------------------------------------

To be continued....

[drinkupthesunrise]

Ok, so I know you're all about the WedgeLuke, but would you consider writing WedgeBodhi? For a prompt I would say, something like - Wedge gets put in charge of helping the newest defector transition into the Rebellion. He didn't expect to actually *like* the guy... Maybe?

I am a consummate multishipper, even if I do focus my writing mostly in one place :D So happy to oblige. This is definitely Wedge/Bodhi, but it is also some other things as well, because I got slightly carried away. (3.5k, also on ao3)

Thereare, in retrospect, a half dozen reasons why Wedge is the perfect manto help Bodhi Rook settle into the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

(He’san Imperial Defector himself; he spent six months out on injuryrelearning to walk; he knows exactly what it’s like to walk from abattle that left almost everyone else dead; to name a few.)

Thatdoesn’tmean that Wedge likesany of them.

He’salready spotted one eager, idiotic, headstrong pilot who needslooking after – Skywalker is youngand in desperate need of guidance – but Wedge is told that, no,Skywalker already has people in his corner. (To be the Last Princessof Alderaan, ready to martyr oneself for the Alliance, counts for farmore than a fool of a pilot who peeled off the Death Star run momentsbefore completion, apparently.) Instead, Wedge is asked to beresponsible for the hero of Scarif, thepilot, the only reason that any of them are still standing here atall.

Theorders come from Chancellor Mon Mothma herself, conveyed by HeraSyndulla, just before the evacuation of Yavin Base. It’sthe last words Hera says to Wedge. The Ghost does not appear at therendezvous point. Wedge is cast adrift, bitter and alone again –they’ve sent Luke off with that damned Corellian idiot and thePrincess, and Verlaine is now heading the Alderaanian contingent, andHobbie… Hobbie is in medical somewhere,where Wedge isn’tquite sure, but his status remains steady at aliveso Wedge doesn’tquestion it too much.

Sohe does about the only thing left to himself, and gets his ass downto the medbay. The med droids almost don’tlet him in, but Wedge’s orders came with a broad spectrumauthorisation that gets him past once he remembers to use it.

“Getthe fuck out,” are the words which Wedge is greeted with. He canonly see a back, and an arm – still bandaged heavily, which meansthe limited Bacta supplies didn’t help and it’ll scar. One legswings under the bed. The other one, Wedge knows from his briefglance at the medical report, was lost to the explosion that rockedRogueOne.

“I’dlove to,” Wedge shoots back. “But Chancellor’s orders. You’restuck with me until you can get an audience with her and convince heryou don’tneed babysitting, and good kriffing luck with that.”

Bodhi’shead turns, just enough to get a glance at Wedge. Half his head isshaved – medical intervention, Wedge guesses, or at least partof it is unintentional, because…well, it’s not a great look, and Rook doesn’t look used to it.His eyes are wide, almost too big for his face, and they’rehaunted, from stress and lack of sleep and who knows what besides. Inthat second, Bodhi looks almost ready to fight, to physically pushWedge out the medbay if he has to. But something stops him. “You’re…”Rook’s voice is low, worn thin, though Wedge thinks it might havebeen nice once. “You’re a pilot.”

Wedgenods. The bright orange of his comefind mesuit made that fairly clear. “Iwas on the Death Star run,” he says, hoping it will prove to Bodhithat he understands just a modicum of the hell that Bodhi’s beenthrough. That he has the potential to.

Bodhiconsiders this for a long moment. “Chancellor’sorders?”

“’Fraidso.” Wedge lets his mouth quirk into a smile.

“Well,come in. Two-one-bee will have a fitif you keep standing at the door, and I’mnever going to get released if I keep pissing them off.”

.

“Whatdo you actually doall day?”

Wedgekicks off, sliding his board out from under the low-level A-Wing he’stampering with, to see Bodhi looking down at him, curiosity all overhis face. Six weeks in, and Wedge would have thought that Bodhi wouldhave worked that out by now: Rook is smart enough.

Onthe other hand, it’sonly in the last week that he’s been fitted with a prosthetic, andonly in the last day or two has he actually been able to wander aboutthe ship, so it wouldn’t be the biggest surprise if he’d missedthe bleeding obvious.

“Work,”Wedge replies.

“Onwhat?” Bodhi asks. He kneels down, trying to work out what on earthWedge is doing. “You aren’t rated as a Starfighter mechanic, Ichecked.”

Hechecked?Wedge wheels himself a little further backwards, then props himselfup, so he can get a proper look at Bodhi instead of the half-upsidedown view he’dpreviously had. One of the medics has got at his hair, cutting itproperly – he’s got an undercut, Wedge notes, that wasintentional, and then the left side is shaved clean – that would bewhere the shrapnel got him in the head – and his remaining hair hasbeen pulled into tight braids across his scalp, gathered into aponytail. His scruff is steadily turning into a full-scale beard. Hismouth is set in a pursed line, his fingers – his hands are sittingacross his knees – are long and elegant.

(Wedgeis loathe to admit it, but Bodhi’sdamnpretty. But it’snot like any of Wedge’s attractions to the various pilots who havecrossed his path have actually come to anything, so he doesn’tdwell on it.)

“Doesn’tmean I can’t tinker a bit,” Wedge shrugs.

“Doesn’tanswer my question,” Bodhi retorts. He’s got a reputation on shipfor being hesitant, shy, nervous; not surprising, given everythinghe’s been through. Around Wedge, he burns with a fire and a witthat is sharp – even though Wedge can see the cracks in his psyche,damage done by unknown horrors before he even reached the Rebellion.

Wedgesighs. “Youreally wanna know?” Bodhi’s not going to like the answer, but henods anyway. “Look after you.”

Bodhi’seyes go even wider than they already are, naturally – somethingthat Wedge wasn’t sure was possible. “What—” Bodhi sputters,rocking back and forth on his heels. “That’s not a job! I don’t—”He glances around, eyes darting franticly, and there’s one of thebreaks that Wedge knows is there, the sort of thing that does meanthat Bodhi needs a full-time caretaker, at the moment at least.“You’re one of the heroes of Yavin, does this damn Alliance nothave a better use for you than me? You should be out there amongstthe stars flying,Wedge, not here on the ground with me, don’tthey realise that, you could be doing so much more.”

Thereare reasons Wedge isn’tout there flying, and the fact that Bodhi isn’t the only onecurrently failing his Psych Evals is one of them. Wedge isn’t readyto tell Bodhi that yet though. He will, eventually – it’ll help,someday, but at the moment there isn’t room for Bodhi to beconcerned about Wedge. Instead, Wedge pushes himself all the way up,and places his hands solidly on Bodhi’s knees, leaning weight onthe way he learnt from the medics, how to ground Bodhi when he’sstarting to panic. “It’s the way it goes. When they need me tofly, I’ll fly. For now, I’ll tinker and advise and pull shifts onthe bridge and do what Chancellor Mon Mothma told me to do, which isto make sure you’re alright.” Bodhi looks surprised at theferocity of Wedge’s instincts – almost like he’s surprised thathe is worth fighting for. “I’m quite content here with you. I’vebeen in enough battles I shouldn’t have survived at this point.”

Bodhitakes a ragged breath, trying to hold it and turn it into somethingdeep. “Okay,”he says. “Okay.” He covers one of Wedge’s hands with his own,and steadies himself in Wedge’s firm gaze.

Wedgetakes a sudden sharp breath. Shit,he thinks. Bodhi’shand is warm on his own, holding firm, and Wedge is almost dizzyunder Rook’s eyes, boring into his own. He does not need to fallfor the man he’s supposed to be looking after. That is a badidea.

Thankfully,Bodhi doesn’tnotice.

.

WhenBodhi is fully released from the medbay, Wedge is cognisant of hisgrowing crush on Bodhi enough that he knows he should probablyobject to the quartermaster’sinsistence on putting Bodhi in Wedge’s bunkroom. It’s a room forfour, currently only being occupied by Wedge and a recent Imperialdefector who’s awaiting a squadron assignment, once High Commandhave cleared him. There isn’t much of an argument for Wedge toactually make, and there are advantages to having Bodhi close to keepan eye on him.

Thefirst week passes without incident, and Wedge thinks that they’remaking progress on Bodhi’s many issues, and maybe a few of his own.One of them might actually see the inside of a Starfighter within theyear.

Then:

Wedgesits bolt upright in bed, breathing hard. Light continues to flash infront of his eyes as he blinks fast; his ship exploding over Yavin,Biggs’voice ringing in his ears. He digs his finger nails into his thigh,reminding himself that he is aliveand awakeand that he survived,and those are the consequences he has to live with.

Heflicks his gaze across and downwards, desperately hoping that hisnightmare didn’twake Bodhi up. But there’s no one in his bunk. The sheets aredisturbed; someone did sleep there. “Bodhi?” he asks, keeping hisvoice quiet.

“Iwas about to wake you.” The voice that comes back to his in returnis not Bodhi’s. Wedge peers over the edge of his bunk and isgreeted by Tycho Celchu looking up at him. “I heard the door go, Ithink he’s gone.”

“Shit!”Wedge shakes the last of sleep off himself, and vaults down theladder. He pulls on his boots and grabs his flight jacket, checkinghis pocket for his comm. “I’m gonna go find him, if he wandersback, let me know?” Tycho nods and then Wedge is dashing out thedoor.

Hetries to think where Bodhi might have gone. His own tired,nightmare-driven feet take him to the hangar, where a couple of techsconfirm no sightings of him. The mess hall is a dead end, althoughPrincess Leia is sitting in a corner of it, nursing a cup of caf andlooking like the world is coming down around her. Wedge hadn’teven known she was on ship. But he doesn’t have time for her now,so he leaves without even acknowledging her presence. After a littlewhile wandering corridors, Wedge suddenly realises – the medbay.

“Seemsyour charge escaped you,” Doctor Varin comments when Wedge dashesin the door. “He’s in with the Captain.”

Wedgenods. He calms himself – they won’tlet him through the door unless he’s calm. When his breath hassteadied, he walks through into the private, occupied room, and:there is Bodhi. Sitting on a chair by a bed, dark skin and dark hairand dark clothes a complete contrast against the stark white of thebed. Wedge taps his comm quickly, sending an all clear to Tycho.“Bodhi?” Wedge asks, keeping his voice soft.

Bodhikeens, a desperate wail that collapses into full blown sobs. Wedgewalks, steady across the room, to place a hand on Bodhi’sshoulder. Bodhi responds by wrapping his arms around Wedge’s waistand bawling into Wedge’s stomach. Helpless, Wedge strokes a handacross the back of Bodhi’s head and hopes to hell he’s providingsome comfort. There’s nothing he can say. Wedge’s demons areghosts, gone up in a fire of smoke and metal, and Bodhi’s lie infront of him.

Honestly,Wedge isn’tsure he could have done what Bodhi did. The man was blown up, and hemanaged to pull himself together just long enough to rewire thecontrols of the shuttle to get it airborne again. He picked up almosta dozen survivors, and then flew out. How he’d got past thesecurity gate and eluded the Imperial fleet was anyone’s guess –none of the survivors can remember. They’d limped back to Yavinjust after the Death Star had been destroyed. Including Bodhi, onlynine had survived the flight back.

Onlyeight of those are up and walking. Captain Cassian Andor is stilllying in the medbay, unconscious. The medics all agree he’snot brain-dead, but none of them know why he’s not woken up yet.Bodhi blames himself – if only he’d got back faster, then Cassianwould have received medical treatment sooner, and maybe he’d beawake right now.

Wedgewaits until Bodhi has cried himself out. “Comeon,” Wedge whispers, pulling Bodhi out of the chair and into anembrace. “You’re no good to him like this. Let’s get some sleepand we can see if the medics have made any progress tomorrow.”Bodhi nods against Wedge’s shoulder, and allows Wedge to take hishand and quietly escort him back to their quarters.

Tychois snoring away when they get back. Wedge is glad. He has his owndemons, too – he was an Alderaanian in Imperial Service whenAlderaan fell. That’senough to bear.

Wedgemanhandles Bodhi into bed. The man went out in just his sleep things,no shoes, so at least Wedge doesn’thave to undress him, just make sure he gets in his bunk and staysthere. Wedge tosses his flight jacket in the vague direction of hisfootlocker and wrestles his boots off, and then there’s a hand onhis wrist. He turns to see Bodhi looking up at him. “Stay?” Bodhiasks.

“Stay—?”Oh. Wedge swallows hard. Bodhi looks so vulnerable there in the bed,and it’s not like Wedge was looking forward to going back to hisown bunk, cold and lonely. He silently nods. Bodhi moves over, lyingon his side to leave just enough space for Wedge to clamber into abunk that really isn’t big enough for two people. Bodhi’s handsfall around Wedge’s waist. Wedge wraps an arm around Bodhi’sshoulders. In minutes, Bodhi is fast asleep on Wedge’s chest, andWedge… Wedge doesn’t have a kriffing clue what he’s doinganymore.

.

Theanniversary of Scarif draws closer, months turning into weeks andthen into days. Wedge gets his combat clearance back, and with it atacit acknowledgement that Bodhi is well enough to not need afull-time minder, because no one else is assigned to watch him. Wedgeflies with Luke again, the two of them natural counterpoints to eachother, blending together effortlessly. It makes Wedge wonder what itwould be like to fly with Bodhi, but that is still a way off.

JynErso trudges back to them. Wedge is worried when he spots her in thehangar. She was another who disappeared in the Yavin evacuation, anddespite Bodhi’sbest efforts to learn where she went, either the Alliance didn’tknow or it was classified far above their paygrade. From the rankpips on Erso’s collar, Wedge guesses the latter. Bodhi takes a longlook at her, and then they are hugging, weeping into each other’sembrace. Wedge breathes a little easier in that moment.

CassianAndor still sleeps in the medbay, and Wedge watches Erso’smelancholy grief as she and Bodhi hold a vigil at his bedside. Hefeels like an intruder, but Bodhi asks for him, and Erso smiles athim sadly, so he stands at the edge of the bed and prays that theCaptain wakes up.

Theday itself is ordinary. Wedge flies the CAP first shift, leavingBodhi to sleep in the bunk that they now share nightly. When hereturns, he finds Bodhi deep in the innards of a wrecked B-Wing, headducked alongside a radiant head of gold that can only belong to LukeSkywalker. The presence of the Falcon in the hangar would supportthat. There might have been a time when Wedge would be jealous – ofeither or both of them – but today, Wedge is just glad of thedistraction. And as the day wears on, a steady congregation of pilotsappears, forming a comforting circle around Bodhi and Jyn. Of thenine survivors of the ground battle, a year on, only five are stillalive. (Of the survivors of the air battle, most were killed in theBattle of Yavin. Some of the crew of the mid-level fighters survived,scattered to the winds, not wanting any acknowledgement of their partin it.)

ThePrincess appears, flanked by Solo – she looks worn and thin. It’sbeen a long year, and her own anniversary is coming up. She says somewords, and Luke – hero of Yavin, heir to the legacy of Scarif sayssome more. (Later in the evening, he approaches Wedge, with neworders from Commander Narra; a squadron perhaps, but Wedge brusheshim off. That conversation is for another day, a week and a half fromnow, when their grief has cleared.) Janson – who skirted death atYavin by nature of a flu virus, and Wedge has never been able to tellwhether he’s grateful to be alive or not – brings a tub ofmoonshine, and for once the Princess turns a blind eye as a number ofserving, on-duty pilots get roaringly drunk.

Lukeis telling a story, one about his misadventures on Tatooine, oneinvolving Biggs – and Wedge must be getting better, because hischest no longer aches at the mention of his name. Bodhi is drapedover his shoulder, head tucked into Wedge’sneck, hands roaming over Wedge’s thigh. Erso is giving them a tacitsmile, so Wedge just lets Bodhi continue, wrapping an arm around hisback.

Almosteveryone utters their thanks to Bodhi, to Jyn, as the party slowlybreaks up. In the end, it’sjust Wedge, Jyn, and Bodhi, sitting round. Jyn helps Wedge get Bodhito his feet – the man isn’t so much drunk as just tired.“Youalright with him?” Jyn asks, and Wedge nods. There’s a briefgoodbye between Bodhi and Jyn, and then Jyn leaves, in the directionof the medbay. Probably to spend another night at Cassian’s side.

Wedgeand Bodhi stagger back to their quarters. As Wedge inputs thekeycode, Bodhi says: “Thanks.”

“Forwhat?” Wedge asks back, pushing the door open.

“Foreverything,” Bodhi says, before kissing Wedge.

Wedgestumbles back in surprise, but Bodhi’shands are firm in Wedge’s shirt, his mouth soft and insistent, andWedge’s gasp merely turns the kiss open-mouthed. Wedge’s hands,initially uncertain, reach up for Bodhi’s hair, one side stilltufty and short from where he’s only just made the decision to growit back out again.

Whenthey break for air, Wedge has the sense to kick the door closedbehind them, before they gain an audience. Knowing the Rebellion,there’sa betting pool somewhere, and he’s in no haste to see it settledbefore he knows what’s going on himself.

Bodhi’seyes are sparkling, and there’s a smile tugging at his lips, and helooks … Wedge would say he looks like himself,only Wedge has never seen Bodhi like this. He looks unburdened, justin this moment. Maybe this is what he looked like, before everything.

“Iquite like you, you know,” Bodhi offers, almost shy.

Wedgetakes him in. “Iquite like you too,” he replies, following Bodhi’s wording, andnot daring to say that he thinks it’s a heck of a lot more thanthat. He pushes Bodhi against the bunk, and kisses him again, andthinks that he could do this forever.

.

Theyare awoken the next morning by banging on their door.

“Bodhi!”The voice that calls through, at what must be an ungodly hour –it’s gone 0700 by the chrono though – is Jyn Erso’s. She knocksagain, and repeats Bodhi’s name, loud enough that Bodhi rolls overWedge – they share a kiss on the way, Erso isn’t going to ruinall their morning fun – before gathering a sheet to make himselfdecent and opening the door.

“Whatis it Jyn?” he asks, bleary eyed in the face of the harsh corridorlights.

Erso’sface is lit up in wonder, her cheeks flushed, excitement pulsingthrough her veins. “It’s Cassian,” she says. “He woke up.”