Oh, would you believe I have another chapter of these, and nearly enough to post yet more? XD Never in a million years did I think this would last this long, and strangely, I don't want it to end either. It's been a good three years since Krisy first suggested we start writing them, and I still get excited when I think of one or when she sends me one. I hope you guys enjoy these just as much, even as sporadic as they are! That's life, I suppose. :)

So, let me think – Wine, Down, Monochrome, Lucid, Facepaint, Senior, Bear, Come, Swingset, Sexy, Bunny, Drum, First... I think it would be easier to say that the majority of these prompts are AU. XD

Melodic belongs to a DGM story Krisy wrote in her head years ago (known as "the slave story") and has yet to get down on paper – I'm still hoping that one day she will!

Pitch & Albion are the mini-arc of this chapter – I wrote one, and Krisy wrote the other. Anyone want to guess who wrote which? :D

As always friends, please enjoy!

O-o-o-o-O

Wine: "Ooh, breaking out the good stuff..." Lavi chirped eagerly as Allen walked toward him with a grin, two crystal glasses in his hands full of a bubbling, butter yellow liquid goodness he felt he sorely needed; Allen handed him a glass and took a seat by his side on the couch, playing idly with his own as he leaned over to snuggle into Lavi's side... it was a quiet night, there in the corner of the library with the fire burning low and the sky outside a cold, icy blue, but the company was warm and Lavi sighed, a glass of good wine in one hand and wrapped his free arm around Allen, perfectly content until he raised his glass for the first sweet sip; "By the way-" Allen interrupted, still swirling his own drink thoughtfully, "-that isn't yellow tail wine, it's martinelli sparkling cider..." and Lavi died a little inside.

Down: Being part of a circus, Kanda was used to seeing odd things on a daily basis, but watching Allen skirt around from tent to tent on his rollerblades making faces and talking gibberish to the one-eyed tom cat he'd adopted into his act was high up on the weird scale, and Kanda found himself rolling his eyes at the mismatched pair more often than not, refusing to call the happy little sounds Allen made to his Lavi 'cute' as Lenalee adamantly tried to make him think they were... and decided he had to up the wit and insults in his arsenal if he wanted to bring Allen down from the clouds ever again.

Monochrome: Even years afterwards, Lavi couldn't reason out just why he'd chosen a church for what was supposed to be his final moment; he wasn't religious by any means, and the rainbows of stained glass were just as somber and gray as the rest of his world, and the golden cross was nothing but a lackluster shadow hanging high above him when he'd laid himself out on a pew, pistol in hand... he'd been tired, he still was tired, of drowning in a sea of black and white, ink and paper, despite it being all he'd known since his eyes first opened, and had amused himself by offering up an empty argument to a God he couldn't believe in with the barrel of his gun pressed under his chin; but then Allen had walked in, broom in hand, and had seen his gun and saw his intent but only offered up a sigh of, "If you're going to shoot yourself, please go elsewhere... I just cleaned the floor..." and Lavi could only laugh in utter, joyous disbelief as he watched him walk away, a priest awash in monochrome who suddenly, amazingly, brought a whole new color to his world.

Lucid: It was terrifying to watch, the way Lavi's body arched in his arms at angles far too impossible for a mortal being, bones cracking and skin pulled tight, the tendons of his neck thick coils of unsuppressed pain and tension as his mouth opened to release a soul tearing scream that made no sound, and as Allen held him tighter, his Innocence rising to counteract whatever miasma the Noah had used to destroy Lavi's mind and take him over, he read his dearest friend's lips as they moved, the frantic but silent words nothing but mindless babble and curses only a Noah would know... but when his skin began to darken and the light in his eye burned from emerald to hated gold, Lavi suddenly went still against him, his gaze focusing just long enough to rasp the only lucid thought he had left: "Allen."

Pitch: It was so dark here, so dark; the blackness so thick it was like wading through pitch, it washed out his vision into nothing; he didn't know what this room looked like beyond the touch of his hands on the walls and the corner at his back, and he sat there with his knees against his chest and his arms locked around them, as though it were a physical barrier against the black world and utter silence... God in Heaven, he was so afraid, the sound of his own soft weeping his only comfort, and the only whisper that feel so frequently, filled with such longing, from his lips as he trembled, "Lavi... Lavi... Lavi, please, please, I'm so scared..." for his friend, his dear friend, was the only one who knew of this place; the only one who could find him and bring him home, and Allen wept for such great fear that he would never come, but could not let go of the hope that he would...

Albion (con't of Pitch): When he finally came, he was swathed in light, bright and brilliant and so blinding Allen's vision cut off as swiftly as the darkness of his prison filled to the brim with white; he couldn't see, but he could feel and he could hear and smell and taste, and these senses, the feel of hair and warm skin, the smell of paper and ink and blood, and the voice, that wonderful, heartbreaking voice let him know he was saved at last, that God hadn't abandoned him yet, that his hopes were answered, and he wept with sobbing laughs, broken and bleeding, into Lavi's neck, tasting the salt of his sweat and his own tears while arms enveloped him, pulled him in tight... "God Allen..." was all Lavi seemed capable of saying; "Please tell me I'm not too late..."

* Albion: the land created by Merlin and King Arthur, a bright future forged from the shadows of the past. From darkness comes light, from despair comes hope, war comes peace, etc... Albion is Welsh, with Latin root Albus, meaning white.

Facepaint: Allen set down his brush and made faces at his reflection, testing the thickness of the fresh coat of white paint and making sure it wouldn't crack, and then pulled his lips into Pierrot's signature sad pout; he turned towards Lavi with a "How do I look?" and laughed when the tom cat offered him a long meow in response before fluffing out his clothes and tying his hair back, giving himself one last look over to make sure his clown façade was as it should be; Allen fixed Lavi's ruffled collar around his neck and lifted him into his top hat, smiling fondly at the loud purring he earned for scratching that lovely spot just underneath his friend's chin on the walk towards the big tent to await the curtain call.

Senior: "Not that I have anything whatsoever against being half naked on your bed," Lavi snorted at Allen, greatly amused at the frazzled state of the college senior art student as he hastily scribbled out his likeness on his drawing pad, "but I don't see how my modeling for you has anything to do with the history report you're supposed to be writing right now."

Bear: He felt ridiculous walking through the halls with the teddy bear in his arm, in full view of any passersby, but tried to walk as nonchalantly as possible regardless; it was a child's plaything in his hands, but would now serve as a median to help his best friend, who lay in a coma – and when he entered Allen's private room, the little brown bear made with soft fur found a place right next to Allen's face... Lavi had been forbidden to do anything other than hold his hand until he woke, and feeling that such would never be enough to bring him back had brought the bear... a perfectly average teddy bear that cuddled easily against Allen's cheek and perched nicely on his shoulder, while Lavi gave him a kiss to the brow and pressed his forehead to the other's gently in greeting, whispering: "Hello Allen... I brought you a friend who can hold you close until you wake, since I can't... he's the softest one I could find, and he doesn't have one of those silly bowties they give bears these days; so I better not hear that you think he looks dumb – I took quite a hit to my ego bringing him here..." – he swallowed hard – "... so wake up soon, okay?"

Come: Dude come over – Lavi rolled over, still unable to even entertain the thought of sleep and in frustration texted his best friend Allen, who lived only a few minutes down the street; and true to form, Allen responded almost immediately: I'm on my way – and Lavi sighed in relief, adding a quick – I'll leave the lights on – to the text thread and received an – Okay be there in a few; he sighed and tossed his phone aside, staring at the lights on his ceiling and hoping Allen would be fast; but a few minutes later he suddenly heard the wood floor in his kitchen creak loudly and it almost gave him a heart attack; he immediately texted Allen with a – Dude I think someone is trying to break in – while listening to the soft sound of feet, imagining perhaps that he and Allen could corner this unknown assailant together if his friend was close enough, but a few moments later, the ominous shuffling stopped; in a panic Lavi started to reach for the bat under his bed, but as he did so his phone lit up again – Moron it's me remember the person you asked to come over?

Swing-set: The swing-set at the park had never been the source of much fun for Lavi growing up – the line had always been too long behind the other kids and the girls would play the most ridiculous games that he very quickly lost all interest in them; but one late, late night in the middle of his teenage years, he had snuck out of the house and wandered to the park, keeping to the shadows for the most part and taking the familiar paths until he found himself at the edge of the play area with all its old but colorful "toys" bathed in artificial light – the jungle gym and the seesaw and the sandbox and the net, and lo and behold, the swing-set, where he discovered he was not alone here; swinging gently back and forth no more than a few inches was a boy his age, with striking white hair and dressed in a worn jacket, staring down at his feet with soul-filled eyes, and so curious Lavi became watching the other's peculiar expression that he couldn't help it – he left the black cover of the trees and stepped out into the light of a city streetlight, and in a few short strides covered the distance needed to take the swing at the other boy's side; they regarded each other silently for a moment or two, as Lavi found a rhythm in the squeaky metal, and then the redhead broke the silence with a; "You couldn't sleep either?" voice smooth and calm as if this had been a planned meeting, and the boy looked him right in the eye and smiled, his forlorn expression gone, and answered just as gentle: "You know me so well."

Sexy: Lavi knew what a buzzkill Allen could be about protocol but that didn't stop him from trying to break it like he had dozens of times before in dire situations like this one; spewing out a whole speech of desperate lines like "can we please just kick the rulebook out the window" and "you need to trust me on this" and "we don't have time to mess around with protocol" before Allen, without changing expression, gave in with a "Fine – you ride shotgun." and Lavi double-fisted in victory, positively giddy as he called after his friend's retreating back around the car: "You are so sexy right now!"

Melodic: It was overwhelming, the sudden joy that rose the moment his fingers touched the keys, his hesitant touch ringing out notes of tragic sounds that slowly tuned as his master tightened the strings, creating a perfect, melodious pitch that caught Allen completely by surprise; his heart, so beaten down by slavery and brutality, had forgotten what it was like to create something so like magic with his own hands – for that was what it was, magic, the same magic that Lord Lavi had been trying to show him existed in a world so full of pain; this magic that made bubbles in the heat of a bath, to the whipped toppings Jerry made out of cream with skilled tools, to the magic of growth Allen himself had witnessed in the small plot of garden Lavi had given him to plant roses and the family of rabbits that had taken refuge under his forest of tulips – there was magic in this instrument and in this moment Allen was beginning to wonder if it all came from Lavi himself, whose easy smile allowed for an answering tilt of lips he never knew he could make.

Bunny: It was foolish hope at best that such a desperate measure would answer his prayers, but Allen was desperate, more so than he'd ever been to bring his best friend back from the brink of nothingness the Noah had made of his mind, and so, with purpose, Allen cradled the small quivering animal as he strode back to their room, smiling softly at Lavi when he entered: "Happy Birthday," he whispered, a fond smile on his face even as Lavi slowly, painfully turned to look at him; sometimes, the light played tricks, making Allen believe that a flicker of recognition sometimes glinted against the dull pupil of Lavi's eye, that sometimes his lips lifted in the tiniest increment whenever Allen stayed up to read him stories or tell him about his latest missions, but now, Allen knew, God above, he knew, he wasn't imagining it this time as he placed the red, lop-eared bunny into Lavi's lap, helping the Exorcist hold it against his chest, and when tears slipped down Lavi's cheeks, the low breath hitching as their eyes met, Allen knew he wasn't too late.

Desperate: "I'm really, really sorry about this Lavi, but you seriously need to hide me!" Allen babbled in a panicked rush, worriedly peeking out of the small window in his fellow Exorcist's door for any sight of the swordsman he'd managed to piss off, and worried if he was overstepping some line by barging into the redhead's room like this; they'd only known each other a couple weeks and though the older boy had easily incorporated Allen into his personal bubble, whether or not he considered Allen a true friend was debatable and too early to tell, but Allen was desperate enough and Kanda was mad enough, and if Lavi decided to just go back to sleep and let him die he'd slip under his bed anyway and let the Japanese man kill them both; Lavi looked close to just ignoring him, disheveled and yawning wide, but Allen knew he was watching him close, weighing the options, before he snuggled back down, lifting up his blanket and offering a warm, inviting hiding place at his side without a word.

Drum: It was typical of Lavi to bang on the drums of an invisible set when a song he really got into came on, but the redhead loved it when he caught Allen doing it too – eyes closed and smile wide, tapping unseen drumsticks to the rhythm of a song barely discernable through his ear buds and singing softly with the words, loving the song and loving the feeling so much that he almost, almost didn't care when Lavi started video-recording the whole thing on his phone.

First: Over time, after all the conversations and laughter, the fights and fallouts, the understandings and reassurances, the letting go, the holding on, they both found something new in each other, a way of being and behaving that was different from every other mask either had ever worn... and though it became rather typical of Allen to be real, the first to give in to a hug or say something much needed, it was a wonderful day when Lavi would sneak up, scare of manillies out of his best friend, and just when Allen was about to yell profanities he would be silenced with a kiss on the cheek, a hug right off his feet, and a sweet whisper in his ear of: "Thank you for always being there for me..."

Colorless: Allen hated the way he was so naturally whitewashed: his silver hair blended seamlessly to his pale skin and his grey eyes where either dulled or overbright in florescent light, no matter how many colors he wore or how hard he tried to sunbathe and tan – he was fifty shades of white in every angle and it was more than a little irritating, especially when he went to the art university and the dorm walls were just as colorless as he was; but then there was Lavi, vibrant Lavi who was a colorful mess of red and orange and green, who saw something in Allen beyond a ghostly shadow: a canvas, fresh and blank and waiting to be filled wholly, completely, with all the colors that would fit... and so Lavi painted on him, brush in hand, palette full of rainbows, and gave him back the colors that had forgotten him.

Weakness: He didn't know how long they tortured him, searching for information, threatening his life while interrogating the ever silent Bookman – abuse and illness cut through his awareness, sapping his moments of clarity until he barely knew who he was anymore, or what he did, or what he said... but one moment he did remember, unwillingly waking from a dream of a boy he missed dearly, breathing heavily with the sweat and blood stinging his eye, Sheri smiling at him from a short but blurry distance and Fiidori laughing softly like everything was a joke; Lavi didn't know what he had done, but from the mildly stricken look on Bookman's face it could not have been good, and his hazy fears were confirmed when Fiidori leaned in uncomfortably close to him and whispered in twisted joy: "He is your great weakness, and you are his."

Frisian: There was little in this life Lavi cared for, but one, rest his heart, was his breathtaking white Frisian who knew how to dance; called the Crowned Ace to the public but just Allen to him, he had been taught with every ounce of skill and love Lavi had from those first days of his life and there was no manner of creature whom the redhead trusted more; whether astride or all feet to the ground, alone or before a cathedral of hundreds, they were one... dancing in familiar circles, rearing in elegant pride, every stride and bow and skill of his unmatched, marking him as the prince he was, but Allen had no eyes or appeal for the praise of the people he and his Lavi performed for, his every focus rather on all the smallest movements Lavi made in the ring; all laughter and calm and power matching knowledge and wit and silence, and even as their famous dance of horse and human finished and the crowds erupted with cheers, Allen would return to the middle of the ring where Lavi waited, finding his place with a foreleg cocked around Lavi's ankle and nose against the other's shoulder, whickering happily as everything he ever really needed was found in the whisper of Lavi's lips on his cheek and the gentle murmur of: "Well done, my friend."

O-o-o-o-O

When I can get five more prompts typed up, I'll post more. :3 Much love and thanks! Catch ya later.