#hmm might touch the design up a bit later on should I ever draw them again-

[meowjings-arsb]

Ah yes… a 432 Timekeeper design

And idk extra one

[lalainajanes]

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”  

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * * 

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

 Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

 She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

 Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

 Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Height Difference

Day 1 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Height Difference!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 1: Height Difference. It’s his 14th birthday and Aang is feeling frustrated. Katara wants to help and Aang confides in her about some of his insecurities.

Word Count: 2.2K

After a long day of festivities, night had finally fallen across the Fire Nation palace, and Aang and Katara were ready to head to bed and get some well-earned rest.

The couple had just finished up at the banquet and silently walked through the dimly lit halls to Aang’s room so as to not alert Katara’s overprotective brother. Though they had merely been cuddling the last few nights before sleeping, Sokka would surely throw a fit if he knew that they were sharing a room at all, hence a bit of secrecy was needed.

At last, they arrived- the third door on the right in the central wing of the palace had been designated the Avatar’s quarters since as early as Kyoshi’s time. It was a fair distance away from the rest of the bedrooms in the west wing, and it also had far more extravagant commodities with its own mini-courtyard and balcony, giving the pair plenty of space to get away from the rest of the world and simply enjoy being with each other.

“Today was fun,” Katara sighed as they finally entered the room, taking off her shoes at the entrance and immediately going towards the inviting bed.

She let herself fall onto the soft mattress, groaning softly as her limbs were finally able to relax after a long day of dancing, cooking, and celebrating for the airbender’s 14th birthday, while Aang gently closed the door with a soft thump.

“Yeah,” Aang chuckled as he joined her on the bed. He pulled some of the thin cotton sheets over them and then curled up next to her on his side.“It sure was... something.”

The waterbender shifted slightly to allow her boyfriend to rest his head in the crook of her neck and absentmindedly traced the outline of the blue arrow on his head while he closed his eyes in contentment.

“Something?” she questioned. Katara furrowed her eyebrows, her movements faltering. “Did you not have fun, Aang?”

The airbender winced when he heard the twinge of hurt in Katara’s voice. She hadn’t been trying to make it sound that way, but she had been planning the event for weeks and naturally was a little offended by the implication of his words.

“Oh. No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it that way. The party was amazing! The food, the drinks, the music, everything was spectacular. You did an amazing job, and it means a lot to me that you care so much.”

Katara let out a quiet breath of relief, resuming her gentle touches to his tattoos.

“Of course I care, sweetie. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you. That’s why if you didn’t like it, I won’t be mad, really.”

Aang tilted his head up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “That wasn’t it, I promise. I just… I had  a bit on my mind today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him tenderly.

He sighed and buried his face in her neck. “I guess... it would be nice to get it off my chest. It’s not like anyone else would get it anyways.”

The waterbender gave him a curious look, silently encouraging him to continue.

“It’s so stupid, but I heard some nobles talking when I stepped away to get us some water. They just kept going on and on about how much of a child I was and how I’m too young and too scrawny and too short for you, and, well, they’re right!”

He turned his body away from her now frowning face and pulled the blankets snug around his body like a protective cocoon.

“You’re almost 16, Tara,” Aang murmured. “A young woman in every sense of the word. Spirits, you’re of marrying age in a month! Me? I’m just a loser kid you found washed up in an iceberg. How could I ever be deserving of you?”

“Oh, Aang…”

She shifted onto her side as well and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

“Those nobles are utterly ridiculous. First of all, it’s only two years! What difference does two years make in the long run? It doesn’t, that’s what. My parents were four years apart and were the happiest two people in the world! A gap of two years is insignificant,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Second of all, sure we’re young, but considering that we saved the world even younger, I think it’s safe to say we’ve matured beyond our years. We’re certainly old enough to know we love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“Doesn’t change the other part though,” Aang muttered in response. “Spirits, I’m 14 and barely the same height as you. A little shorter if we’re being honest. It’s so annoying! Why can’t I just grow up already?”

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean for this to come off the wrong way, but why do you care about that? What difference does it make?”

The airbender remained silent for a few moments and pondered her question, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The monks had always taught me to judge people based on the content of their character, not their exterior, and to draw satisfaction from being self-assured, rather than care about what other people thought. And in most cases I feel like I do that pretty well, but…”

“But?”

A subtle pink tinted Aang’s cheeks and he took her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“You’re different, Katara. You’re the one I love more than anything, the one I would do anything for, the one whose opinions, thoughts, and feelings mean the world to me. You’re the most amazing person on the planet, and you deserve someone worthy of you. Look at Haru and Jet! They were both older and taller and so even something as small as noticing the height difference when we’re dancing kinda hurts. It just feels like I’m the odd one out. I know that’s silly but-”

The waterbender cut him off and shook her head.

“It’s not silly, Aang. Believe me, I’ve felt the same way more times than I’d care to admit. But, in the end, none of that matters. I love you. I chose you . You’re not just my boyfriend, you’re my best friend."

He turned back around to face her and swept her up in an embrace, mind immediately put at ease by her words.

“Plus,” she continued, “So what if you’re a little shorter than me now? You’ll grow in no time. Quite frankly, I’ll miss being taller than you when you do.”

The airbender quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll miss it?”

Katara chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, right at the tip of his arrow.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I will. Being able to do that, not having to look up or go on my toes trying to kiss you, I won’t be able to do all that forever. Things like kisses, hugs, they’re a lot more… accessible with our current heights.”

“Hmm,” Aang hummed. “I guess I never really thought of it like that. I still want to grow taller of course, but when you put it like that, I might miss this a little bit too.”

“Let’s not get too carried away with the future, okay?” Katara laughed. “We have our whole lives ahead of us, let’s just stay in the present- the present where I love you, and you love me, and nothing else matters.”

The airbender grinned with her, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“I like the sound of that. Thank you, sweetie. For listening, for the reassurance, just everything. It means a lot.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’m always here.”

Katara pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as Aang returned it, pulling her closer to him. They broke apart after a few seconds and grinned like idiots at one another. There was silence, but it was comfortable. The two didn’t need words, they were just enjoying being with each other.

“It’s getting late,” the waterbender murmured after some time. “We should probably go to bed.”

“Probably,” Aang whispered back, unable to take his eyes off the angel in front of him. With a flick of his wrist, he put out the candles that had been lighting up the room and settled into his pillow as Katara drew closer to him and interlocked their fingers.

“Good night, Aang. Love you,” she said, beginning to drift off to the dream realm.

“Love you too, Tara,” the airbender yawned. “Sweet dreams.”

One year later…

“Happy birthday!” the room chorused as Aang blew out all his 15 candles.

The airbender grinned and began to cut the apple cake- an ancient recipe of the Air Nomads recreated by some of the top chefs in the Fire Nation as a gift from Zuko.

“Thanks guys!” Aang laughed. “Man, it’s crazy to think that the war has been over for a little more than two years now.”

Katara smiled and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“We’ve all done a lot of growing up. We’re older, more mature-” she gave Aang a quick look from head to toe. “ Taller .”

He chuckled, pulling her close to him and peppering kisses all over the top of her head. She was right, of course- as if triggered by their conversation that night, Aang had grown rapidly over the next year. A month later he was the same height as her, two months following he was comfortably able to rest his arm on her shoulder, and now, a year later, he towered above her with her eyebrows barely at his chin.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “Give it a rest you two. The oogies are out of control! Spirits, you act like a newly wedded couple still in the honeymoon stage half the time.”

“Oh, leave them alone, Sokka,” Suki chided. “It’s his birthday! Let’s give the lovebirds some alone time. They’re just kids, they’re nowhere near that yet.”

“Yeah, haha, absolutely not,” Aang nervously laughed as the other couple exited the room. The stone pendant in his pocket began to feel like poisonous lead weighing down his vision for the hopefully not-so-distant future.

“You never know,”  the airbender heard Katara mumble, so quiet he wasn’t even sure she had actually said it. “Sometimes things will come when you least expect it.”

He stood there blankly for a moment, brain struggling to process her words and had just opened his mouth to ask her what she meant (she couldn’t possibly be talking about what he thought she was… right?) when she decided to speak up instead.

“I can’t believe you were ever nervous about staying short, sweetie,” Katara quipped, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

Aang merely blinked at the subject change, promptly concluding that the last thirty seconds were simply a figment of his imagination, and sheepishly scratched the back of his head in response to her comment.

“I guess it was kinda silly, huh,” he laughed. “Look at us now.”

The waterbender pouted, going up on the balls of her feet and craning her neck to gaze up at him. “You’re too tall for your own good. I miss when you were shorter and I didn’t have to tilt my head every time just to look at you.”

“Oh c’mon, it has its benefits.”

He gave her a quick look to warn her for what he was about to do, and with one swift motion, Katara was suddenly off the ground and in Aang’s arms bridal-style, her arms around his neck and their gazes interlocked.

The airbender touched their foreheads together and gave her a cheesy grin.

“I couldn’t do this before, now could I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

“No,” Katara smiled, her head tilted as she looked at him endearingly, “I suppose you couldn’t. And I certainly won’t be one to complain about you holding me more often.”

Aang laughed and carefully set her back down, hearing the growing volume of the room next to them. He quickly grabbed the two full glasses on the table and handed one to the waterbender.

“Here’s to hoping you’re the one who grows by next year so my neck isn’t always sore from looking down at you,” he said as he held his drink up.

Katara gave him a dry stare before rolling her eyes and smiling.

“Cheers.”

The two clinked their glasses and turned to face the door behind which the rest of their friends had already begun to celebrate.

“Shall we?” Aang asked as he held out his arm to her.

“We shall,” Katara responded, accepting it. “Happy birthday, Aang.”

[arcaneglitch]

Overtaken

An innocent Crucible match reveals that Oryx might still have more influence over Harley than anyone thought.

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

"You want to what?"

"I want to play some Crucible," Kai repeated, "You've been acting kind of weird and stressed out lately, so I thought we could decompress."

"I must have missed something," said Harley, "Since when has Crucible been a place to relieve stress?"

"Since always," said Liv, "Duh!"

Harley couldn't agree. While he had enjoyed Crucible the last time he played it, he also remembered it as very stressful. Points weren't something you had to think about when clearing out a Fallen base. And going up against other Guardians had been an entirely different experience. Still, he saw the merit in Crucible acting as training for Guardians. It was excellent for learning tactics and cohesive teamwork. And he'd done rather well the last time he'd entered it. Maybe there was something to the idea after all. At any rate, it would probably be better than dodging his friends until his next patrol assignment, which is what he seemed to spend most of his time doing.

"Alright, I'm in."

Liv cheered. "Hell yeah! We'll show those other Guardians a thing or two!"

"Are any of the others coming?" asked Harley.

"Besides us three, Rogue, Rae, and Kay all said they'd join," said Kai.

"Not Tristan?"

Kai shook her head. "He's studying in his room… I'll slot us in for the next match."

As the Titan typed on her interface, Liv turned to Harley. "So what weapons are you going to use?"

"Hmm, probably the Freelancer and my sniper."

"You any good with it?"

"You've seen me snipe, Liv."

"Yeah but not in the Crucible. It's different in there."

"Well, I used it last time and it worked pretty well."

She shrugged. "You do you… It'll probably be good to have some variety anyway. A lot of the others like to go short or medium range."

"Next match is Zone Control in Bannerfall," said Kai, "We should probably head out now."

Liv clapped Harley on the shoulder. "See ya there!"

Harley watched as his friends transmatted away and then had Prism do the same for him. Once they were on their way to the chosen area, he worried over his gear, checking his weapons.

"Nervous?" asked Prism.

"I guess I kind of am," he replied, "It's been a long time."

 "When was the last time you played?"

 "I think it was before Oyrx and all the Taken stuff. I meant to go in a couple times since then, but then there was the stuff with you-know-who."

 "And then you were avoiding everyone."

"I wasn't avoiding… Ok, maybe I was. But they keep asking about the you-know-who situation and I don't feel like talking about it."

 "Understandable. Crucible should be good for you, then. You can hang out with them but they'll be too concerned with the match to bring it up. And hopefully, you'll be too focused to worry about it."

 "Hopefully."

Guardian and Ghost fell silent, watching the scenery of the City go by as they approached their destination. Soon, Harley found himself being transmatted down into the arena below. Bannerfall marked the place where the Guardians of New Monarchy had defeated the Concordat, a faction that had attempted to wage war against the Vanguard. Later on, Shaxx had turned the site into a map for the Crucible.

Shaxx made the opening announcements and then the match began. A display popped up on Harley's HUD, showing the score, roster, and the waypoints for the three zones.

"Let's head for B," said Kai, "But split up."

"Ace, why don't you get sights on B," said Liv, "I'll watch your flank."

Harley nodded and ran off to find a good sniper lane. He knew that most Guardians figured out where all the good sniping areas were after playing a few matches on a map. There was a good chance that someone on the other team would be expecting them. But he could see nothing on his radar.

"Those dumbasses all went for B together!" exclaimed Rogue over the comms, "If only I could smash 'em now…"

The point counters on the scoreboard ticked up as Harley's friends engaged the enemy team.

"Son of a Dredgen!" cursed Kaedro, "I had a perfect line on B and one of them shot me out of it!"

Harley tuned the chatter out, sighting down his scope. But as he focused on the zone, he caught the flash of an opposing sniper scope that wasn't aimed at him.

"Liv, get down!"

The crack resonated across the map. Harley spun to find Liv sprawled on the ground and watched as her body was transmatted to the designated respawn area. Then his radar flashed red and he looked up to see a Hunter lunging at him. He dodged out of the way, drawing his knife, and plunged it into the Hunter's chest.

All of a sudden, something inside him twisted and he fought the urge to be sick. He found himself kneeling next to the Hunter's body, hands outstretched as the transmat kicked in. He shivered. Cold sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He heard Prism's voice calling to him, but it sounded so distant. The sonorous voice of Oryx filled his head.

"Your Traveler cannot reach you here, Child of the Sky… Your will is mine."

A pair of legs entered his field of vision, only to disappear in a violent flash. A different pair took their place, striding up to him with quick, sharp steps. Hands clamped down on his shoulders, yanking him roughly to his feet. The sharp movement only worsened his nausea and he groaned. The person holding him up was yelling something. Suddenly, they reached up and yanked off his helmet.

"Wake UP Hayden!" Kai was shouting, "This is the Crucible, not a summer camp!"

 "Kill them all. Make them pay."

Harley's hands were trembling as he clamped them over his ears, trying to block Oryx out.

"I can't…"

"Can't what?"

"I can't… I don't want…"

"Don't want what?!"

"I don't want to kill them! Don't make me kill them!"

Kai pulled his hands away and said something else, but all he could hear was Oryx commanding him to kill her. He broke free, pressing his hands over his ears once more. Kai snapped her fingers in front of his face, waving irritatedly. He screwed his eyes shut and found the voice quieted. He could hear Kai better now.

"-on Prism?"

His Ghost's reply was worried. "I think it may be a panic attack."

Why wasn't she phased? He had to find her, but he feared that if he saw her, Oryx would tell him to destroy her.

"I have no idea why he's reacting this badly. He was better for a while..."

"Ace?"

A hand settled on his arm. He flinched, but the touch was light, barely putting pressure on him. Kai's voice was much less irritated. Instead, she sounded concerned.

"Look at me."

Harley shook his head, eyes still closed. He heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps. But then Kai said something that made them stop. Everything was still muffled. Hesitantly, he brought his hands away from his ears. The voice was silent.

"Look at me," Kai repeated.

He shook his head again. "Can't."

"Why?"

"If I see you, he'll tell me to kill you."

"Who?"

"Oryx."

He heard her inhale. When she spoke again, her voice was measured.

"Ace, Oryx can't control you. You're not Taken anymore. That was two years ago."

Harley cracked his eyelids open by a sliver. Sunlight poured in, making his eyes water a bit. Kai stood in front of him with Prism floating next to her. Both were watching him with concern. When Oryx's voice didn't emerge to give him commands, he opened his eyes the rest of the way.

"Harley?" asked his Ghost.

"Yeah?"

"Are you still hearing him?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

"You haven't had an attack this bad for a while," she said worriedly, "Do you know what might have triggered it?"

He took a slightly shaky breath. "When I...killed that Guardian, it… It was like when I was Taken and Oryx was telling me to kill you guys. Like when I almost killed Kay."

"I didn't know you remembered that." The Titan's voice was carefully calm.

"It's fuzzy… Everything's fuzzy except when it's not. Does that make any sense?" She shook her head. "I don't remember much. But...I remember turning on Kay. But only sometimes. When I'm...reminded."

"I think I'm starting to get it," said Kai, "Are you ok now?"

He nodded. "Better."

"Do you want to finish the match?"

He shook his head feverently. "I don't think I could make myself kill another Guardian… I know they're on the other team, but killing that Hunter made me feel...wrong."

"Ok. I'll get Shaxx to pull you out. He'll understand… Look, Ace. I think you should tell the others about this stuff. You've been...affected by this since you were in the med bay. It's the kind of thing your team should know."

"No! I don't want them to worry about me. I can manage this. They have other things to worry about. Promise me you won't tell them!"

"Alright, alright. Calm down. I'm not gonna say anything without your say-so. But you should think about it. This isn't the kind of thing you should suffer through alone."

"...I'll think about it," he said unwillingly.

Kai nodded. "Good. We'll meet you back in the Tower, yeah?"

He nodded. With one last glance at him, the Titan returned to the match. Harley retrieved his helmet, then allowed Prism to transmat him back to the Star.

"I shouldn't be a Guardian," he said as they flew back, "What kind of Guardian can't even play one Crucible match?"

"Plenty of Guardians don't play Crucible," said Prism comfortingly, "That doesn't make them better or worse than the ones who do. It's not a weakness to not want to kill other Guardians."

"It is a weakness to fall apart on the battlefield. What if next time something like that happens, it's someplace like the Vault of Glass? What if someone dies because I'm incapacitated? ...I never should've been given the Light in the first place."

"You are more than deserving of the Light, Harley. Don't torture yourself by wondering about things like that. If something like this ever happens again, we'll get through it like we always have: together."

Harley gave a small smile. "Thanks, Prism."

"Anyone who thinks my Guardian doesn't deserve the Light will get a piece of my mind. And that includes you."

[the-gedonelune-times]

The Sweetest OF All Sweets

Hello everyone! I know I haven’t really posted any stories lately, so here’s a little something to make up for that. So here, have a lovely fluffy ficstarring the pairing of Randy x Leon and some brief Lulias. I hope you all enjoy and as always comments are always accepted. I love you all! xoxoxo

A black hazy cloud of smoke began to pour out of a now open window, while the sound of coughing filled the room. A voice began to speak up followed by a few more coughs. 

"Randy, what happened this time...?"

"Uhh..good question Leon, I think I maybe added a little too much of...well whatever was in this." looking at an empty vile Randy spoke with a smile before going over and rummaging around for more supplies.

"Isn't that kind of reckless..?"

"Nah, I like to think of it as a trial and error type of deal. I'll keep trying different things and learn from any of the mistakes I made, one way or another I will succeed!"

"Is the trial and error thing the reason why Klaus kicked you out of the office and locked the door so you couldn't get back in?"

"Nope Klausy is just being himself."

"Really..? He's always like that?"

"Yep" Randy spoke as he grabbed more beakers and a few old looking jars, which appeared to contain wilted pieces of flowers. Even though they were wilted, the petals still possessed a vibrant colour.

"How beautiful..."

Sitting down the jars and beakers, Randy spun around and smiled directly at Leon "Oh thank you! I'm so happy you think I'm beautiful"

"I meant the flowers.." chuckling softly, Leon watched Randy put his hands on his hips and frown slightly.

"Wow, my own boyfriend thinks that the dead flowers are prettier than me, what has this world come to?"

Getting up, Leon made his way to where Randy was standing and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You're much prettier than some dead flowers."

Blushing softly, Randy gave a loving smile before cupping Leon's cheeks gently and whispering a soft "thank you" before pulling Leon into a soft embrace and placing a soft yet passionate kiss upon his lips. The two of them were now in a warm embrace, their soft blushes blending in with the light that poured in from the window, bathing the room in soft orange hues. They parted their lips after a while, as they gasped for some much needed air and almost, as if on cue, a small figure came skipping into their room.

"Massssteeerrr!" with a smile on his face Taffy came bouncing happily towards Randy.

"Oh Taffy! you're just in time! I needed a good test subject for this new potion I wanted to try out!"

"Oh nooo! Me don't want to fly into trees no more." With a sad face, Taffy slumped down to the floor like a heartbroken kid, after being denied candy. "But Taffy you know you're my number one test subject, I rely on you so much!"

"But..b-but..."

Giving a tug on his sleeve, Leon looked at Randy with soft sympathetic eyes "Randy..maybe you should give Taffy a break, he looks really sad."

"Aw...but now how will I test this new potion?"

"I'll do it..."

"What? Leon are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure"

Answering in a soft voice, Leon headed back to where he was sitting and began to watch as Randy took out a small piece of paper and put it down on the desk next to him. While watching Randy intently, Leon felt a tugging at his leg and looked down to see Taffy staring up at him with his arms now open, as if wanting a big hug. Leon knew what he wanted and wasted no time in scooping up the small stuffed bear in his arms, and gently placing him on his lap. Ever since the day Randy and Leon proclaimed their love for one another, Taffy had become close to Leon and sometime called him "second master."

"Master is making new experiment?" with curious eyes, Taffy looked up at Leon, waiting for the answer.

"Yes, he's experimenting, but with a potion this time. But don't worry, I'll be the test subject for this one."

"Yay! Taffy go play by lake and watch lunefish now!" Taffy began to blush and smiled happily, which caused Leon to usher out a soft chuckle at the sight. About an hour had passed before Randy had called out to Taffy and Leon, however, after not receiving a response from either of them, Randy quickly turned around, his eyes darting around the room in a panic. After locating their figures, Randy quickly made his way over to them to make sure everything was alright/

"Leon? Taffy?" Randy was about to shake Leon's shoulders, however that changed when he heard a soft snoring coming from Leon. Even Taffy was asleep and resting on the top of Leon's head. Around them, Randy saw papers with colorful drawings on them.

"It looks like Taffy and Leon were drawing and fell asleep."

Giving a smile, Randy carefully scooped Leon up in his arms and carried him over to the bed, careful not to wake them both up. Placing Leon down gently, He pulled a blanket over him and gently kissed the top of head. He was about to walk away when a soft sleepy voice caught his attention.

"Randy..?"

"Yes Leon?"

"Are you not going to stay and sleep...?"

Randy gave a soft smile and leaned down to kiss Leon's cheek "not quite yet love, I have to go and get something from town."

"Is it something for another one of your experiments?" Leon asked as he softly and sluggishly pushed himself up, now leaning on his elbows.

"Yes...something like that. You should really get some rest though Leon. I know that classes for you were a bit hard today, so try to rest and I promise I'll be back soon."

"Promise..?" Leon had spoke softly, a flash of such purity and innocence flashed in his eyes as he looked at Randy.

"I promise" kissing his forehead one last time, Randy turned away and made his way out of the dorm. He knew where he wanted to go, but had to make a quick stop somewhere else first.

As he made his way out of the dorms, he stretched and looked at the sky, there was still an hour or two till night would fall. "If I run, I might just be able to make it" Randy thought to himself as he made his way to the prefect office, Klaus might be away at this time delivering any last minute papers to their designated places, which meant that this would be a perfect chance to slip in and get the things he needed, without getting lectured again about how he wasn't taking the prefect work seriously.

Quietly making his way up the stairs, he made his way up to the hallways that led to the prefect office. Suddenly Randy heard a door open near the end of the hallway "shoot, that must be Klaus, I can't let him see me." he only had a few seconds before Klaus would make his way towards the stairs, his eyes began to dart and then focus on a classroom nearby. He quietly made his way and opened the door, careful not to let Klaus see or hear him.

Once inside the room, Randy placed his back against the wall and waited. The clicks of Klaus' boots hitting against the surface of the ground began to grow louder. Suddenly he saw a shadow appear against the tinted glass window on the door. Holding his breath, Randy hoped and prayed that Klaus wouldn't open the door. "Hmm..." Klaus's voice, followed by the sound of his footsteps going the other direction, soon disappearing after a few seconds, caused Randy to exhale a big sigh of relief.

He wasted no time in getting out of the classroom and heading down the prefect office. He knew that Klaus would waste no time in coming back, so he knew he only had a small gap of time. He thought things were going in his favor, well, until he reached the office that is. Randy tried twisting the knob to open the door, only to find that it had been locked. Fumbling around in his pockets in his cloak and pants, Randy finally found the key. He had cloned Klaus' key once when he was away and he was thankful for that. As he inserted the key and twisted he heard a click and the door was free to be opened.

Moving quickly, Randy quickly grabbed his wand and hurriedly spoke an incantation before touching a bookshelf on the corner of the office. Once his wand touched the bookshelf, a soft click echoed out and Randy opened the bookcase like a door, revealing a magic broom and a soft pink bag securely attached to the end of it. Grabbing the broom, he shut the bookshelf, hiding his secret compartment, before casting another spell, once again locking it, before going over and unlocking the window, and then proceeding to open it. Resting the broom against the wall next to the window, Randy quickly and carefully climbed out of the window, making his way to the branches of the tree that resided nearby. The branches he was on seemed sturdy enough, as he reached his hand out to grab his broom a booming voice made him jump and almost lose his balance.

"Randy! What do you think you're doing"

"Just hanging around" Randy gave the annoyed prefect a smile as he grabbed his broom.

"Just where do you think you're going with that?! Get back in here right now!"

"No can do Klausy, see I'm on an adventure and sadly you're too much of a square to join me. See ya later Klausy!" jumping out of the tree, Randy positioned himself on the broom quickly and hovered above the ground, just enough to notice that Klaus' face was red with boiling rage.

"RANDY!!"

Chuckling, Randy took off into town, he didn't have much much time left, he knew he had to hurry and get what he needed. Not to mention, he had to get back tho the dorms, where Leon was most likely staying up and waiting for his return. The town was a bit quiet when he arrived, and most of the stores were closed at this time, hoping that the store he was looking for was still open, Randy quickly flew around eyeing each one. He spotted it and quickly came down and hurried over, however, the elderly man running the shop, was locking the door.

"Sir?"

Turning around, the man looked at Randy "Yes young man?"

"Are you closing up the shop?"

"I'm afraid so,it just turned closing time a few minutes ago."

"I see, but please can I ask this favor?"

"hmm..." The elderly man squinted his yes at Randy, wondering what is was that he wanted.

"Please, can you re-open the shop, just for a few minutes, it's really important. Tomorrow is the love day festival at the academy and I wanted to surprise my boyfriend with a very special gift. Please, I have money and everything if you could please just open again."

Giving a soft smile, the man, took out his key and unlocked the door once more. "Only for a few minutes, I too am looking to surprise someone for tomorrow."

"Oh yeah? and Thank you for doing this."

"It's not a problem, and yes. I want to surprise my wife with some sweets from a new sweets shop that has recently opened up on the upper floor of a cafe."

"Oh that sounds sweet, I'm sure your wife will love it."

"I hope so."

As the two of them entered the store, Randy looked around, his attention turned to  a row of glass cases nearby, a couple of them held watches, bracelets, watches and earrings. However the one at the end was all rings.

"Um, sir?"

"Yes young man?" The store owner came over to where he was standing and looked at the case that Randy was staring at.

"These are wedding rings, correct?"

"Yes, they are."

Randy smiled while looking at the case as he scanned at all of the rigs, they all had the basic silver and gold theme, with beautifully cut diamond patterns on them. However, one pair in particular caught his eyes. It looked like a snowy silver, but it was translucent like ice, it sparkled against the lights in the case, causing little rainbow patterns to form around them. The diamond in the middle of the ring was shaped like a rose, little diamonds were placed on each sides, which looked like crystal tears.

They were absolutely stunning and unique, much like how Leon was. Looking at the price, he realized that it was a little over his budget, but he didn't care, these were the rings that he wanted, the ring that he wanted Leon to wear when he would pop the question.

"I see you've noticed the new brand of ring."

"I did and I'd like to buy the set." "Ah, so this is what you were looking for." opening the glass case, the store owner gently grabbed the pair of rings, taking them over to the check out. "So you're planning on popping the question to your boyfriend?"

Randy felt his cheeks blush at the question, but smiled as he walked over to the register where the rings were currently being rang up. "I really hope to, I just hope he'll accept the proposal."

"I am sure your boyfriend will love this gift more than anything."

"I really hope so."

After paying for the rings, Randy walked outside, his broom in one hand  and a small pouch in the other, which he tucked securely in his pocket. His thoughts were all about Leon, as he began travelling on his broom again, the cold feel of the wind made him feel calm and allowed him to think more clearly. With the academy dorms in view, Randy began to wonder if buying the rings was a good idea, he loved Leon. more than anything in the world, even more than sweets. But he wondered if perhaps by doing this, things would be going too fast? The two of them had been dating for a little over a year now, their love continued to flourish each day, making Randy want to make Leon his for a lifetime, but would Leon feel the same?

Flying around the side of the building, he landed on their dorm room's balcony and knocked on the door. Almost immediately, the curtain flung open along with the door., where he was then greeted by a smiling Leon.

"You're back"

"Yep..wait, Leon,did you stay up waiting for me?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't alone, Taffy was here too. He and I were drawing again" Giving a smile Randy kissed Leon's lips gently before going over to the desk. 

"Leon...? Where is everything at?

"Oh, I cleaned everything and put them back where they needed to be. Your potion is on the shelf above though."

"Leon, you really should have been getting some rest instead of cleaning up the mess I made."

"I didn't want to sleep without you beside me" with one hand on his hip, Leon gave a soft smile towards Randy, causing him to blush a little before returning a smile.

"Leon, sometimes I think you're way sweeter than any sweet in the world." Chuckling, Leon began removing his uniform, leaving him bare chested as he crawled into bed and began patting the area beside him. Randy began to chuckle as well, while he too began to remove his uniform and make his way over onto the other side of the bed and crawled into the bed right next to him.

"Hey Leon, I forgot to ask, but where's taffy?"

"Taffy went back to sleep over on the sofa" Looking over at the sofa where Leon was pointing to, Randy noticed a small figure wrapped up in blankets, with what seemed like a big smile on his face. "I guess drawing took the energy right out of him."

"Yeah, seems like it." Leon gave a soft yawn as he spoke and began to move closer to Randy.

"Seems like Taffy isn't the only one who was lacking energy" chuckling, Randy held Leon in his arms and began to stroke his hair.

"Hey Randy..?"

"Yes Leon?"

"I love you..." closing his eyes, Leon rubbed his cheek against Randy's chest and gave another yawn.

"I love you too.." with a smile, Randy closed his eyes and continued to stroke Leon's hair until the both of them found themselves in sleep's embrace.

The next morning, Randy was awoken by a delicious smell, as he opened eyes, he saw that Leon had two trays of food, sitting on the nearby desk. A look of puzzlement clouded his face and just as he was about to ask, Leon answered him. "The housemother is the boys dorm and girls dorm are preparing for the special catered lunches for today's festival. So we have to eat the food in our rooms."

"Wow, they're really getting into the festival this year huh?"

"It seems like it, I can't wait to see what they have planned this year." as Leon spoke, he reached over and brought the two trays of food over to the bed, handing one to Randy.

Randy looked at the plate on the tray and smiled, there was two eggs, a couple slices of bacon and piece of toast with honey and.."Leon, why is there sprinkles on my toast?"

"I know how much you like sweets so I put sprinkles on the toast because I thought it would make it taste like candy.."

Laughing softly, Randy looked back down at the toast and picked it up before biting into it. "Mmm, it does taste a bit sweeter with the sprinkles on it, thank you Leon."

Leon blushed softly before digging into his eggs, while Randy watched Leon with a smile. If Leon accepted the proposal and they got married later, would all their mornings be as sweet as this? such a thought gave Randy a smile and a a possible glimpse into a future that he oh so desired to come true.

After eating and then talking for a little while, the two of them decided to go and get ready for the day's festivities. It didn't take them long to get ready as they slipped on their casual wear instead of the uniforms. Once they were ready, they were about to head out of the dorms when Randy stopped.

"Hey Leon, I need to take care of something real quick, maybe you and Taffy could go on ahead?"

"Are you sure? Is everything okay?" Leon's voice was filled with worry as he spoke and Randy gave a soft smile.

"I just need to grab something real quick is all then I'll catch up to you soon."

"Okay, if you say so. Come on Taffy you can help me take down the trays"

"Oookay" Taffy happily skipped after Leon.

Randy gave a soft sigh of relief, happy that they left so easily, He couldn't let Leon see the rings that he had bought, nor could he let Taffy see it either. While He knew that Taffy was trustworthy, he wasn't exactly the best at hiding surprises, so he knew that he risked having the surprise ruined. Taking the velvet box, he stashed it away carefully into his pocket and headed out of the dorm to go and meet up with Leon and Taffy down by the entrance.

"Masteeer!" spotting Randy, Taffy skipped over happily with a big smile on his face. Leon followed soon after and stopped in front of him.

"So, shall we get going?"

"Of course" Randy took Leon's hand in his as they began walking outside where decorations were already in place, with a variety of different attractions it was hard to decide where they would start. They decided on going over into the middle of the courtyard where a large fountain was conjured up, inside was small heart balloons which would pop when the sun would set, signaling the end of the festival and sealing the love between couples. Randy and Leon grabbed two and they changed to a soft pink color.

"So what's the story behind these?" Leon asked while looking at the small almost translucent heart shaped,balloon in the palm of his hand.

"All the info I've gathered so far, is that couples who grab the balloon hearts, then the heart will change to matching colors. Throughout the day the balloon is supposed to trap the love and then at the end of the day it'll pop, showering the couple in eternal love and happiness."

"That sounds really sweet.."

"Do you believe in it Leon?

"I'd like to...especially if it comes true, then that means we could be blessed with eternal love and happiness." Leon spoke with a smile as he looked down at the balloon.

"I see you two are attending the festivities as well?"

"Oh, it's Elias" Leon smiled seeing Elias walk in their direction

"And Luca"  Randy added with a smile.

"Of course we'd attend the festival, nice to see a lovely couple roaming the area" Luca smirked as he spoke and moved closer to Elias

"You two are a cute couple too"

"L-Leon..!" Elias was cut off by Luca's lips pressing against his, a bright blush formed on Elias' face when Luca pulled away

"I agree Leon, we're a pretty beautiful couple" before Elias could even say anything, Luca pulled him by the hand "We have a lot to do before the end of the day, so we'll see you guys later, yeah?"

"Yeah" Leon smiled at the two of them and waved them off For the next few hours the two of them went around the academy grounds, looking at the rest of the festivities, which included walking through a romantic stroll through a decorated botanical garden playing with and eating special flavored bubbles/ They had face painting stations and there was even some music playing to liven up the mood. They even had stations for students to stop and try the different variety of sweets that were set outside for everyone to snack on until the feast in the dining halls of the dorms. After the feast, Leon and Randy walked out and began making their way to the lake.

"I was kind of surprised..."

"About what?"

"Well...I just expected there to be a bit more to it...I thought it was going to be like a carnival" Leon let out a sad sigh

"The day still isn't over yet, the sun has yet to set"

"Yeah, you're right. So are we going to go the lake and look at the lunefish?"

"Of course we could" giving a soft squeeze to Leon's hand, Randy smiled as they made their way to the lake. They took a seat on the ground and stared out towards the other end of the lake. The water shimmered and shined as the rays of sunlight bathed the top of the lake in a beautiful orange cream hue.

"The water is so beautiful this time of day.."

"You know what else is beautiful?"

"What...?"

"You are Leon" With a smile, Randy leaned over to place a soft kiss on Leon's lips, causing a soft blush to form on the both of their faces. When Randy pulled away the two of them stared into each other's eyes, before pulling away from one another. "I don't think this day could get any better, especially, with you here by my side Randy."

"Actually..." moving away from Leon, Randy got down on one knee and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box, locking eyes with Leon, Randy smiled and opened up the small box, revealing the beautifully crafted ring. "R-Randy..?" "Leon, my one and only love, I wish to spend the rest of my life, by your side, I wish to always make you smile and feel happiness. Leon, will you marry me?"

"Yes...yes yes I will!"

Leon spoke through his tears of joy as he flung himself into Randy's now outstretched arms, the two of them were now both shedding tears of happiness as they held each other in a tight embrace. They soon released each other and Randy gently slipped the ring on Leon's finger and gave a soft kiss. Just then, the balloons that they had picked up early let off a loud pop, sending sparkles raining down upon them.

"Does this mean...?"

"Even if the balloons are just a myth, I'll make sure to make our love eternal and filled with happiness" Randy smiled and rested his cheek on Leon's cheek as he spoke.

"I will do the same Randy...I promise you.."

Sharing another soft kiss, the two of them moved closer, holding one another in a loving embrace, the two of them continued to show their love through the night, and for the rest of their lives...

[velvetchen]

ad finem | pt. i

[ back to masterlist ]

Scenario: Time Travel AU Pairing: Baekhyun/Reader Word Count: 2429 Rating: T (violence in later chapters)

Summary: When the Museum of Ancient History reveals its newest exhibit, you’re expecting a blast from the past. You just hadn’t counted on it being literal. 

next part >>

You look down at the brochure that’s clutched tightly in your fists. You’d only just arrived and already the glossy paper is crumpled from your nervous fidgeting, your hands clammy from holding it.

THE MUSEUM OF ANCIENT HISTORY PRESENTS:

THE DAGGER OF KINGS EXHIBIT

To be unveiled to the public on Saturday, October 8

Releasing your hold, you squint up at the huge front of the museum, the two-storied pillars and the mock-Roman architecture. At the giant wood doors, carved ornately with glyphs. At the large “WE ARE CLOSED” sign right in the middle.

You pull out the note from your pocket, brow furrowing as you read over it for the hundredth time. 

Dear Y/N, thank you for expressing an interest in the exhibit! I look forward to seeing you at 6 pm on the 7th for a mini masterclass at the museum. - Professor Bern

Nowhere on the note does it say what to do if they’re closed. You take a deep breath and let it out, deciding to make your way around the building and look for some other entrance that might be open.

The area around the museum is as busy as ever, but the museum itself is dead quiet, without a single light piercing through the front windows. No staff loitering around the building. It’s dark as you skirt the far wall, entering an empty back alley lined with parked trucks, facing a small warehouse that you know is where the museum keeps its less valuable stores.

There aren’t any streetlights, but a slight glow a little bit ahead catches your attention. You hurry forward, letting out a relieved noise as you locate a pair of exit doors. Yellow light flickers through the gaps at the sides. You try the doorknob, rattling it back and forth, your frustration returning as it refuses to open.

Biting your lip, you raise your hand and knock thrice, hard, the sound dull and loud in the quiet of the alley. You lean toward the gap in the door. “Hello?” you call. “Is anyone inside?”

You’re just about to knock again when a click sounds and the door swings open. In the pool of light is a somewhat familiar face - you breathe a sigh of relief, but he doesn’t seem to recognize you. “Hey, we’re closed.”

“I know,” you huff, smoothing out the note and holding it out. “That’s why I’m here.” He studies the note, eyes narrowed, suspicious. What’s his name again? Something that starts with a B, you’re sure. He’s in your Medieval History class, one of the guys you see everyday but never got to know.

“Oh, Y/N,” he says finally. “I didn’t know the Professor invited more people.”

“Neither did I,” you reply, stepping inside and pulling off your jacket as he locks the door behind you. “Is anyone else here?”

“No, just us.” He leads you down a hallway and a right turn, coming to a stop in front of an unlabeled office door. “Come on, the Professor’s in here.” He pushes it open to reveal a brightly-lit room with a long table in the center, strewn with artifacts and books and papers. Professor Bern is seated at the far end, hunched over something small and dark, a lens in one hand and a small torch in the other.

When he doesn’t look up, you clear your throat, a small noise that echoes in the room. “Um, Professor?”

His head jerks up. “Y/N! You made it!” He sets down his tools gently and nearly bounds up to you. “Great, now both you and Baekhyun are here, we can get started. The exhibit isn’t fully finished yet, there are still some last minute touches for tomorrow, but we should still be able to get a good look at it…” Still talking, he leads you out of the room, switching off the lights as he goes, and down the next hallway into the museum proper. “...I can even give you a look at some of the pieces that didn’t make it into the exhibit. There are some real gems.”

With everyone gone, the museum is silent except for your footsteps and the Professor’s occasional comments. You and Baekhyun are quiet, listening, your eyes roving over the older exhibits. Ones you’ve seen a hundred times before, but will never lose your fascination for.

“Ah, Egypt,” says the Professor. “As popular as it is, I can bet you it’s going to be deserted tomorrow.” You pass out of Egypt and through Jerusalem, your eyes lingering on one of the wall-length tapestries of the Crusades. A minute’s walk later and you reach a hallway that’s cordoned off with velvet ropes. Small sconces line the walls, but the far end of the hallway still recedes into darkness.

The Professor lifts the rope. “We’re here. Hurry, there’s a lot to cover, you don’t want to have to skip anything…”

You share a look with Baekhyun as you pass the ropes and enter the dark hallway, the same excitement that you feel mirrored in his expression. You hadn’t pegged him as truly interested in history - he was always goofing off in class, as much as he liked to wring a topic dry in an argument. But you didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was a literature student and took Medieval History for fun, so you couldn’t make any assumptions.

The actual exhibit is more brightly lit. There are posters everywhere, and little information panels have been set up in front of the glass cases for people to read. The large circular hall has seven sections, with a huge dais in the center where the main focus of the exhibit is: a long metal dagger, made of an ornate cast metal, glinting wickedly in the perfectly-positioned spotlights.

“The Dagger of Kings,” the Professor announces proudly, holding out his hands in an encompassing gesture. “The most puzzling - and the most fascinating - object we’ve discovered in the last three decades.”

You read about it before you came, of course, but you hadn’t seen the actual dagger until now. Something strikes you as off about it. The hilt, while decorated in a delicate pattern that’s been polished to perfection, has seven divots in it, making a straight line down its spine. They’re large, each one about the size of your thumbnail.

Baekhyun notices them too. “Professor,” he says, leaning forward over the barricade to take a closer look. “Why’s it - is it broken?”

Smiling, the professor rubs his hands. “Yes,” he whispers, like he’s about to tell a story. “In a way, it is. But I’ll come to that last.”

You can’t help but look back at it as you walk toward the first section of the room. The dagger has an energy to it - if you can even say that - a kind of aura that makes you unable to take your eyes off it. Finally you do, turning your attention back to the Professor as he starts to talk.

“Our first destination,” he says. “The Aksum Empire.”

As you both listen, your eyes search the wall behind him. A drawing of the dagger made on aged paper, a page of some manuscript, photos of tall stone towers. “This is where the dagger’s story starts. The first recorded mention of this dagger is from a scholar who resided in Aksum during the reign of King Ezana, in the fourth century A.D. There is not much from this era other than a carving and an inscription on one of the stelae -” noting your confused looks, he pauses “-like tombstones, markers for their graves. The scholar, who is unnamed and uncredited, made this manuscript and this illustration. As you can see, it is quite obviously the Dagger of Kings. You can observe the same script on the blade, the same design on the hilt.” He runs his finger over the drawing.

“Now, over here,” The Professor beckons you over to a small, illuminated glass stand. Inside is a black-and-white photograph of a stone carving. “This is a photo of the only salvaged piece of the stela with the carving. As you can see, it’s obviously a dagger. But look closer.” You both lean in close, the top of your head nearly brushing Baekhyun’s. “Seven dots on the spine of the handle.”

“It is the dagger,” you murmur, awed.

“It is indeed. Moving forward-” You struggle to follow as the Professor strides over to the next section. “The next king is none other than Justinian the Great, Emperor of the Byzantine Empire in the middle of the 6th century. When he conquered the North African kingdoms, one of the many spoils he accumulated was none other than our dagger.

“Here is a painting of him with the dagger in his belt. You can make out the intricately patterned blade even here…” He goes on, pointing out more manuscripts, more pictures. Then you move on to each of the other five sections in chronological order, your mind reeling with the passage of the dagger through history. In the hands of the Khmer. Carried to the Mongol leaders. Into the grasp of the Incas. Through the conquest of Granada. Then held by the Persians. Each and every one of them had an account of the dagger.

“I suppose I should tell you what’s so important about the dagger, hmm?” The Professor says, backing up towards the dais in the center, moving the barricade out of the way so you and Baekhyun can press your faces up to the glass case. “Those seven holes once housed seven jewels. Seven exquisitely precious jewels, of a type of stone that was incredibly rare and incredibly valuable. Jewels that were lost through history.”

You exchange a look with Baekhyun. This close to the dagger, the energy is impossible to miss, radiating outward and making your bones hum. He feels it too, you can tell. You wonder if the Professor can sense it, or if it’s just you both that can feel this inexplicable power.

“Do you want a closer look?” the Professor winks. He moves to unlatch the glass case, lifting the front panel and revealing the interior. “Perks of being the curator.” Reaching in, he gingerly holds the dagger’s stand, pulling it out. He grips it reverently, holding it out towards you.

“Can I…?”

He nods. “Go on, go ahead.”

You hold the stand with the same reverence, your hands shaking as you gape down at the dagger in awe. Out of the lights it’s duller than before, but just as striking. The energy hits you full force now, like a ripple shooting through your bones. You’re transfixed.

You startle when you hear a noise. “Oh, sorry, sorry,” Professor Bern frowns, digging in his coat pocket and pulling out his old clump of a phone. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Can I leave you for a minute? Will you be all right?”

“We’ll be fine,” Baekhyun assures him, not taking his eyes off the dagger.

“Okay, Excellent. Don’t touch that dagger. I’m serious. Don’t touch it!” The door shuts behind the Professor. “Hello?”

The minute it’s quiet again, Baekhyun’s eyes meet yours. “Tell me I’m not the only one feeling that.”

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I feel it too.”

“God, that’s incredible,” he breathes. “I just want to hold it. It’s like it’s telling me to pick it up.”

You frown, uncertain. “Baekhyun,” you hiss, but the buzzing in you is getting stronger. “He just told us not to touch it.”

He narrows his eyes. “Yeah? What’ll happen if we do, Y/N?” He holds his hand out, dangerously close.

You pull the dagger closer to you. “Baekhyun,” you whine. “Please. Don’t touch it. Something’s not right-”

“Come on, Y/N.” His expression is challenging. “Everything will be fine.” Just as his fingertips touch the metal, you grab his wrist.

Something shoots through you, and your eyes meet, his just as wide-eyed in horror as yours.

The stand clatters to the floor.

You scream as blackness envelops you, but the sound gets sucked away by the void. You’re falling in circles, blind and numb. You can’t tell which way is up, which way you’re even falling-

Until you hit the ground.

Your ribs collide against solid stone and you groan in pain, slowly pulling yourself upright before you run your hands over yourself, checking for anything broken or out of place. Somehow, you’re still in one piece, and you thank whatever gods are watching before you look around and freeze.

You’re in some sort of alley between two brick buildings, the stone underneath you a rusty brown. Sand sticks to all the crevices in your clothes. Which, you realize in shock, aren’t the jeans and blouse you’d worn to the museum. Instead, you’re now dressed in a long linen skirt and bodice; simple clothes. The kind of clothes they wore in historical dramas, in the pictures in your textbooks.

Does that mean…?

Frantic, you search your surroundings. Ten feet to your left is Baekhyun, groaning and clutching his back. To your horror, he’s dressed in the same style of clothing as you: a linen doublet over leggings. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet.

In between the both of you is the dagger. You crawl towards it and pick it up, drawing it close to your face, scanning it for something - anything. The mysterious aura it had in the museum is now gone. Now it’s just a dull metal knife. Completely unassuming.

“Holy...shit.” Baekhyun is staring at you, at the red stone buildings, at your costume. He laughs, incredulous. “I’m dreaming, right? I’ve got to be dreaming.”

He must notice the helpless confusion in your eyes, because his face falls. His mouth drops open. “No. No, wait. What’s going on?” He looks at himself, runs his hands over the material of his vest in shock. “Y/N, where are we?”

Swallowing, you turn your head so you can see the end of the alley, where bright afternoon sunlight streams through. Sounds reach your ears. People speaking loudly in mixed languages, the occasional clatter of wood, hoofbeats. Somewhere a woman is singing. Bells toll in the distance.

You examine your clothes again, mind whirling. The buildings: wide and stocky, parts coated in white stucco, roofed with red shingles.

“Y/N?” Baekhyun moves closer.

“I know where we are,” you say, your heart in your throat. “One of the seven locations. We’re in Spain.” Your voice is grim as you speak. “Spain, in the fifteenth century.”

a/n i’m posting this earlier as a thank-you for 750 followers! i hope you enjoy this fic, because i’m super excited for it and it’s going to be huge

[artificialqueens]

Reminiscences Ch.2 Trixya-Scoobert

Katya POV

I sat down on the makeup chair, a little rattled by this makeup artist. She was a bit awkward but I have to admit kinda cute. When I first met her she looked like she’d seen an evil spirit or something, but she eventually fell into a sweet, kindly mood, fitting the name I’d previously given her, Barbie. As I thought of the doll I’d owned as a child, I could seriously see the similarities.

 I waited for her, swinging around on my chair and fiddling with my fingers. I loved my job as a model but honestly it was kind of repetitive being painted by makeup artists all the time and using clothes other people picked out. In my own time I adored using kooky patterns and items that most people would shake their heads at. Some fashion designers admired my creativity, but honestly I’m probably better up on the runway. Ever since high school it’s been a great way to build up confidence and earn some money at the same time. I often worry and feel self conscious but seeing all the smiling people and being around such a bustling happy atmosphere makes me feel like I have a sense of purpose.

Trixie returned and started on my face, rubbing in some primer and dabbing away with foundation. Usually the artists tried to make some meaningless small talk but Trixie looked completely focsued on her work and rubbed the cream right into my pores. Either she wanted the makeup to last for a few years or she was thinking about something hard. When she got ready to work on my brows, I ended up staring directly at her eyes, it would be weird to look down or to the side, she’d know I was avoiding her, so I just looked straight ahead as her brow furrowed, trying to draw the individual brow hairs with perfection. Her eyes were so beautiful, they were a bright, intense blue, like those Greek oceans with perfectly white crystalline sand running across their edge. Those eyes they reminded me of something, what was it?

Flashback

I walked out into the courtyard with my lunch, making my way over to my usual table with my friends. I was just about to wave over at Alaska who was sitting and gossiping with the usual bunch, when I looked to the side to see a pair of vibrant clear blue eyes looking over towards me with a sense of longing and sadness. We made eye contact for a few seconds before he quickly turned his head to focus on his lunch instead. I looked over at my friends who seemed to be deep in discussion about Ginger’s new car. My limbs made their way over to the boy and I sat down on the concrete next to him.

He looked up at me startled but I avoided eye contact and like him before, focused on my lunch in front of me. We sat here for a time until I spoke up. ‘Hey, I’m Katya by the way, we always ride our bikes together but I’ve never actually really met you before huh, do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?’

I looked over in his direction and he finally looked up smiling with a sense of hope.

‘Ah no of course not, I’m Brian by the way,’ he said shyly.

‘Cool, so what kind of music do you like? Personally I love Backstreet Boys, Nirvana and Green Day, they have awesome rhythm and I love sitting in the park listening to them and…’

I was cut off, slightly alarmed by his little giggles and the small smile that formed on his lips.

‘What, not into music huh? Fine then, what do you like?’

‘No, no I love music, but those bands are junk!’

I smiled, glad that he was actually talking with me and seemed to be enjoying it. ‘Well then, any suggestions, Mr. laughing at my music?’

‘Well Depeche Mode, Blink-182, U2 have some awesome rock music, but if you really want to get into it have a look at AC/DC, Guns and Roses. I have to say though, Sex Pistols are my all time favourite, try listening to them.’

‘Wow thanks, I’ve never heard them before, sounds cool, maybe you can show me sometime?’ I looked up smiling and I knew that was the right move. As I looked at him I could see a hint of pink poking out from under his jacket.

‘Ooh pink shirt?’He quickly covered it up and turned the other way.

 ‘Oh um I mean, I think it’s cool, wear whatever you want if it makes you happy!’ I exclaimed quickly. He turned back around slowly with a sad smile. ‘I wear the weirdest clothing so I don’t think I’m really one to judge’

‘Uh thanks,’ he looked over and let his jacket go slowly. ‘My stepfather hates it when I wear this sort of stuff, says I look too much like a girl’

‘Hey I don’t think it really matters, personally I like girls and boys and I don’t think clothing should define you at all.’

‘Really?!’ he smiled hopefully and I felt good being able to make him happy.

‘Yeah of course, disregard what your stepfather says, be who you really are.’

‘Well I would but my mom really likes him and I don’t really want her to see him any differently, especially if that means he’ll start acting like he does when I’m alone with him.’ I shuddered slightly and glanced over at his face, I could see a slight purple tinge on one side of his face which had been covered by concealer or something.

‘Oh shit, are you okay, did he…’ I glanced down at my uneaten food, suddenly not feeling as hungry.

‘Yeah he really hates it when I act girly and always calls me a ‘fucking Trixie’ and thinks I’m going to bring disgrace to him and his manhood or whatever, he gets really angry and thinks because I’m not actually his child he can treat me however he wants’. Woah, I had no idea this boy I ride with everyday had such a deep story. I felt kind of sorry for him.

‘Wow, I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, my dad isn’t like that but at the moment I’m constantly being given from one parent to the other. They’re fighting in court and neither of them really want to deal with me and my ‘bisexual tendencies’ once the divorce happens.’

‘Well it seems we’re in similar kind of situations. Thanks for sitting with me today by the way, it was really nice talking to you, I hope everything works out.’

‘Yeah no problem, it was nice to finally let it go, most of my friends don’t really want to hear about my problems or anything ‘too depressing Katya, lighten up’ or whatever.’

‘Well I’m here anytime you want to talk, no one else really wants to hang out with the weirdo kid.’

I laughed at that. ‘Well maybe I just happen to like weirdo kids, we’re not so different really!’ I replied as the bell started to ring. We both packed up and started in the directions of our lockers. When I walked inside I looked back to see Brian doing the same thing and our eyes met, smiling at one another and the connection we’d made in that small time period.

As I was packing my books for math, Alaska perched on the locker beside me.

‘Hieeeeeeee Katya, where were you at lunch? You missed all the drama about my boyfriend Aaron and I, we’re back together again by the way,’ she cooed in her deep drawn out tone.

‘Ah yeah sorry I just had some stuff to catch up on.’

She moved over closer and stroked the side of my face before resting her fingers on my chin and turning my face to hers.

‘I really hope that’s true, because I missed you and I really hope you’ll be there tomorrow. We have a lot to catch up on.’

‘Yeah yeah, sure thing’ I said, still trying to avoid her eyes.

‘Hmm okay, see you later girl’ she said as she walked away, winking at the boy whose locker was a few down from mine. God she was annoying, but I liked smoking with her after school and at least when I hung out with her I felt noticed, special, accepted. Unlike being at home with one of my parents. They just ignored me and pretended I didn’t exist. Besides I’d seen what she’d done to people that had got on her bad side and I didn’t reaaaally want to be in that position. She could be extremely cruel when she felt like it.

‘Get out of my way, you fucking Trixie, we don’t need any lady boys around here,’ I heard her slur from down the hall. I turned my head around to see the boy Brian from earlier being pushed to the side by Alaska and quickly turned my head so he didn’t see me.

End flashback

I’d zoned off while the artist, Trixie, had been doing my makeup. High school hadn’t been the best time for me but I’d gotten off okay by having influential friends like Alaska and Ginger. I still hung out with them sometimes but they’d definitely changed a lot since high school. They listened to me now and were less ‘all about that gossip girl’. Alaska had broken up with her high school on and off boyfriend Aaron and Ginger had a nice long term partner. We caught up from time to time and it was nice to see where they were at.

This girl though, was it possible she was Brian from high school. It couldn’t be, that boy had always seemed so shy and timid besides the fact that he was a BOY for gosh sake. But then again, those eyes, they looked exactly the same.

‘Okay, I think we’re all done here Katya, you look amazing, if you don’t mind me saying,’ she said, smiling ecstatically waiting for me to come out of my weird daze I was in.

I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection. Wow, I thought, this girl is truly talented.  She’d turned my skinny little face into one of beauty and glamour, ready for the runway. As I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes couldn’t help but trail off to reach into Trixie’s fresh, shining orbs. It had to be him, that memory was too vivid in my mind to forget. But then, this girl, seemed so happy and cheerful, he had always sat at the back of class in an aura of despair.

‘Okay Katya, let’s get you changed into your dress, Fame’s given me this for you to hop into, it’s quite tight at the back though so I might need to help you zip it up if you don’t mind.’

‘No no of course not’ I replied in a daze.

I pulled off my slacks and shirt I’d previously been wearing and slipped myself into the dress. I felt Trixie’s warm hands glide up my back along with the zipper. My skin shivered as it reacted to her touch.

‘All good here?’ Fame, the girl that seemed to be in charge questioned, walking past.

‘Yup, let’s get you on the runway Katya, you’re all ready to go. Good luck Sweetie’

‘Thank you!’

‘Come on you have to smile’ she said giving me a giant grin for example. I’d been so focussed on my memories I’d been thrown out of my usual pre runway mood. It probably wasn’t even him, I don’t even know what happened to Brian, we hadn’t really talked after that day.

[missmungoe]

LITTLE FISH // Shanks x Makino & baby. Oh – and Ben.

“He’s going to do it.”

“Please don’t get your hopes up, dear.”

“He’s going to do it today, I can feel it.”

The expression that greeted his unbridled certainty was one of patient fondness, and with a sigh Makino tucked her amusement under her tongue, along with her reservations.

Ben had no such reservations, and his amusement was a far drier thing, punctuated by a snort. “This from the guy who can’t even feel a storm coming before he’s standing in it.”

“This is different, Ben – this is fatherly instinct. You don’t have kids. You don’t know.”

“I’ve been practically raising you for the past twenty years.”

“It must have been difficult,” Makino mused. “Being a single father.”

No cigarette in sight now with his godson in the room, but the wry smile that curved along his mouth was keenly familiar. “Somehow I’ve managed.”

Her own was carefully demure. “A bit of a handful, isn’t he?”

Shanks shot her a dry look for that, followed by a mutter about jokes that ought to be retired, but his grin was quick to follow, even as Ben said, “Biggest challenge has been keeping him away from sharp objects. You know he has to touch everything to learn not to. Knives, sea kings…”

“Mm. I can imagine.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Shanks told the baby, his mother’s hands tucked under his arms and his legs kicking at the air. A nearly toothless grin stretched across that little face, in uncanny imitation of his own. “They think they’re so funny. And I’m not getting my hopes up, because you’re going to walk today, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”

He had his hand extended, his whole countenance open with anticipation, and Ben’s brow quirked. “You’ll send him running in the opposite direction with that look on your face. But he’ll be walking, at least.”

“He’s not scared,” Shanks said, as the baby blew a slobbering raspberry, followed by a giggle. “See? He knows who his father is.”

“Okay, I’m going to let him go,” Makino said. “But if he falls, you’re catching him.” Easing the eagerly kicking feet onto the floor, the baby looked ready to lurch into action, but she kept her grip until he’d taken one uneven step, then another, at which point she dropped her hands, making him toddle forward, and Shanks let out a delighted laugh, lone hand reaching out–

But then the baby veered off to the right, grin bright and small arms raised, and his sights set on Ben, seated in the chair opposite.

Lifting him off the floor, Ben settled him on his knee. “You were saying?”

The stricken look on Shanks’ face made it difficult to stifle her laughter – doubly so when he told her, voice entirely level, “I’ve never been this hurt.”

Pushing to her feet, Makino dusted off her skirt, a smile hidden in the corner of her mouth as she made for Ben, and the baby reaching his arms towards her. “This is your father now,” she said, smoothing her thumb over a small cheek. “I hope you don’t mind, Ben.”

Ben gave the baby a bounce. “Can’t fault the kid for his choice.” Then, “Does this make me your husband?”

“Hey.”

“You’re not going to yell ‘mutiny’ again, are you?” Ben asked, holding the baby out for Makino to take, a delighted coo greeting her embrace, and legs that wouldn’t stop kicking. “Because I feel like you throw that word around a lot for someone who’s never actually been mutinied.”

Glare firmly in place, Shanks looked to Makino, holding their son now, small fingers shoved in his mouth, along with a good portion of her hair. Rising to his feet, he extracted it from the baby’s grabbing fingers to tuck it back into her kerchief, holding her gaze and ignoring her poorly contained smile, even as his own threatened to follow suit. “It’s not funny.”

She tucked her lip between her teeth. It didn’t help. “It’s a little funny.”

A tiny hand made a grab for his, and Shanks grinned, catching it and pressing a kiss to small, sticky fingers, eliciting another giggle. “Oh so you remember me now, hmm?”

“I doubt he’d ever forget,” Makino said.

“Yes,” Ben agreed, arms crossed over his chest now. “Some of us have been trying for years.”

Shanks stuck his tongue out. “And look who’s still here.”

“I said I’ve been trying. It’s an ongoing process.”

“See, you say that, but I don’t know if I believe you,” Shanks said. The baby was waving his arms at Ben now, the appeal clear, and Shanks pouted as Makino handed him back. “And I can’t believe you’re the favourite!”

“Maybe he knows I’ll be a better role model.”

“He’s ten months old. He can’t even poop without supervision but his decision-making skills are somehow top notch?”

Ben shrugged, and ignored the sticky fingers burying themselves in his hair, tugging. “Maybe he’s got good instincts.” A smirk then, and, “Unlike his father.”

“Insubordinate old grouch. I should demote you for that – from godfather to god…cousin twice removed.”

“Is this like when you threaten to demote me to deck-hand? Because I’m still waiting for that to happen.”

“It still could – I could do both in one fell swoop.”

“Well you do need all the hands you can get.”

“Oh,” Makino laughed, delighted. “That’s a new one.”

Shanks looked betrayed, but Ben only smiled. “I try.”

“You try a little too much if you ask me,” Shanks muttered, as the baby gave an elated shriek, and Ben winced when he gave another tug at his hair, followed by a bubbling laugh, before bumping his head against Ben’s shoulder with a contented hum.

Observing the display, Shanks was grinning now. “If you wanted out,” he told him then, “you’re a little too late. You think I’m hard to get rid of? He’s twice as stubborn as I am – and he’s got her eyes.”

A single brow arched, but then the baby made a gurgling sound, accompanied by a small hand patting his cheek, dark eyes bright and smiling, and Ben’s sigh held no regret – only the old, wry acceptance of a long-sealed fate.

—

“If his first word turns out to be ‘Ben’,” Shanks declared, some weeks later when their son’s endearingly incoherent babble had begun to shape into semi-articulate sounds, “I might cry.”

Makino’s sigh was a laughing thing. “What would I do without your dramatics?”

“Hmm, I don’t know – forget that I’m here and marry Ben, maybe?”

She pinched his side, dragging a startled shout into the quiet, and when he pouted Makino met it with a smile.

“Oh you can smile,” Shanks told her, rubbing at the spot she’d pinched. “I doubt he’ll be mistaking anyone else for his mother.”

She smoothed her palm against his shirt, tugging at a loose button, and he half-expected her to make a comment about his blatant indecency, but the appreciative look that followed told a different story, even before she said, “Well I have no doubts of who his father is.” Then, “And I didn’t marry Ben,” Makino added, matter-of-fact. “I married you.”

His grin stretched, so easily prompted where she was concerned, but she was quick on the follow-up, her tone musing now, “Of course, if he’d asked me first…”

The smile dropped. And with her lips pressed together to stifle her own, the attempt entirely unsuccessful, “It’s a little funny?” Makino asked.

The look that kindled in his eyes at that held far too much mischief for a man on the cusp of forty, but she didn’t have time to tell him before he was reaching for her, the smile slipping back into place without thought–

“Oh I’ll show you a ‘little funny’–!”

Her shriek dissolved in an endearingly unflattering laugh, the sound of it drawing the attention of the baby sitting in Ben’s lap, observing his parents’ antics with curious eyes.

“A good thing you have me, kid,” Ben said, turning the page of the newspaper. There was no verbal response, but then it was perhaps a bit early for that.

Although – “Ben,” he told him, voice low, “is only one syllable. And you’re getting better with your plosives.”

His answer was a gurgling half-word that bore no resemblance to his name, followed by a devious giggle as little hands made a grab for the corner of the newspaper, chubby fingers stained with ink and saliva. Patting his head, Ben turned the crumbled page.

“We’ll work on it.”

—

Godfather or not, there were consequences to being the designated favourite, in a crew full of self-proclaimed uncles.

The galley door opened, the soft whine of the hinges slipping beneath the din of laughter and conversation, easing itself into the late-night revelry without intruding, and so Ben didn’t even look up from his drink at the sound.

Not until the presence asserted itself with a familiar, gentle insistence, and the sudden hush that followed suit washed across the room did he incline his head towards the doorway, only to find Makino, for all intents and purposes looking like she’d rolled straight out of bed.

Clad in one of their captain’s old shirts and a frilly dressing robe gathered loosely at the waist, her expression dared them to comment on either, although Ben suspected the sight of her had rendered the crew too speechless to even manage an attempt.

“He won’t go to sleep,” she announced. Then, dark gaze finding Ben, her amusement an acutely dry thing now but the irony ruined somewhat by the exhaustion drawn so tightly across her features, “He keeps asking for you.”

Ben tried not to smile. From the look on her face, he doubted it would be well-received.

Yasopp had no qualms about it. “I’m going to assume you’re talking about the littlun and not the captain?”

The look she shot him told him plainly how much she appreciated his cheek, although the smile that chased across her face seemed beyond her control. “I’d laugh, but I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks,” Makino said. “And I don’t care what it takes, Ben Beckman, I will drag you if I have to.”

Rising from his chair, he put out his cigarette, smile still threatening, and from the dark brow that arched in response he suspected he wasn’t doing a good enough job stifling his amusement. “No need for that.”

She stepped out of the way to let him pass, and – “You’d make a scary captain, Makino!” someone called from across the galley, and the tremor of laughter that followed held more than one murmur of agreement. And the look she tossed them before she shut the door behind her attempted to be cutting, but the smile lifting the corner of her mouth didn’t quite convey the desired reproach.

“They’re not wrong,” Ben said, as they walked down the gangway.

“Oh no? Frilly dressing robe included?”

“It adds to the effect,” he deadpanned, and she laughed, the sound a desperately tired thing where it fell into the quiet. Despite the full galley at their backs, it was too late – or rather, too early – for the village to be up, and he spared a passing thought of sympathy when she rubbed at her eyes, knowing that she’d likely be up in a few hours to open the bar.

He heard the crying before they cleared the porch, and there were a hundred different jokes begging to be spoken, finding his captain pacing the upstairs hallway, one very disagreeable toddler on his arm, but the honest exhaustion on his face made him think the better of it.

But the boy reached out his arms at the sight of him, hiccuping wails yielding to a noise of surprise – then to a seamless stream of now-familiar syllables, accompanied by the eager kicking of small feet, “Benbenbenbenbenbenbenben–!”

“I’m surprised you’re not more upset about this,” Ben said as he changed hands, and that little weight settled on his arm without fuss, small head tucked against his shoulder and grievances quite forgotten.

“I’m too tired,” Shanks sighed. “Maybe in the morning. Wait – it’s already morning, isn’t it?” He looked at Makino. “What does sleep feel like again? I can’t remember.”

“Go,” she said, giving him a push. “You’ve been up the longest. I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

“You’re getting far too comfortable throwing orders around, my girl,” he pointed out, and Ben’s smile offered his silent agreement. “Should I start calling you ‘Captain’?” Despite the exhaustion, his grin was one of familiar mischief. “In public, I mean.”

Her mouth pursed with a smile, but the blush erupting across her cheeks was visible even in the dim light of the hallway, and, “Go,” she warned, giving him another push. “Don’t make me put you to bed myself.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Shanks.”

Her laughter followed him through the door, and, “I’m sorry about this,” Makino said, although Ben was tempted to point out that she didn’t look very apologetic, wearing her fondness so openly. And she didn’t specify what she was apologising for, but the relief that skittered across her face when she looked her son, sitting calmly on his arm, said enough.

And from their bedroom – “He brought this on himself!” Shanks called. “You get no sympathy from me, Ben. This is what happens to usurpers.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Makino sighed around a tired laugh, “is thank you.” Her look softened, and her gratitude was as genuine as her exhaustion when she added, “We really appreciate this, Ben.”

He didn’t say that he didn’t mind – didn’t have to, where either of them were concerned; they both knew him well enough to know without being told. And she didn’t have to say that they were grateful, but she was the type to do so anyway, Ben knew.

“Don’t let him get away with too much,” she said then, reaching out to push an unruly lock of hair out of her son’s face, smoothing her palm over the downy strands. “We wouldn’t normally indulge him like this, but I’m too tired to think straight.”

“Get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll handle things from here.”

“If you need help at all,” she said.

“I’ll wake your husband and let you sleep.”

Her laugh fell, too bright to be tired, and she squeezed his arm. “Good man.”

“What was what?” Shanks’ voice drifted out through the half-open door.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

“…you know what, I don’t want to know,” came the sigh. “Have your schemes – I’m going to sleep.”

The smile she offered him carried the shared amusement of an old alliance, and when she made her retreat to the bedroom Ben made for the nursery, keenly aware that the little shape on his arm looked far too awake for it to be four in the morning.

“One story,” he told the boy. “And then you’ll go to sleep, won’t you?”

His mother’s eyes were far too compelling, and his father’s grin promised nothing but trouble, and, “Yeah,” Ben sighed, as though in agreement, but the snort that followed was too soft for genuine derision.

“I don’t even know why I asked.”

—

The following morning greeted them with surprising gentleness.

“Do you hear that?”

He felt Makino stir, rolling towards him, a yawn sighing against his skin, and her murmur, “Hear what?”

“Exactly. It’s quiet.”

Her sudden alertness made him realise the words had sparked worry rather than the wonderment that had been his intention, and so, “Ben’s downstairs with him,” Shanks explained, picking out the two presences with ease, and he felt her sink against him in response, her breath a soft gust of relief. “Do you think he’s been here all night?”

Makino hummed, the sound holding a note of exhaustion still. “We owe him.”

“He has the obvious favour and unconditional affection of my only son,” Shanks said, threading his fingers through her hair, to curl them against her jaw. “What more does he need?”

Her answer was wordless, a tender half-sigh tinged with a laugh, but she was awake now, Shanks felt, and there was intent in the small hands searching out his skin, and the kisses against his jaw, seeking his.

“Speaking of needs.” His laugh rumbled out, roughened by something more intimate than his usual mirth. “What are you thinking, my girl?”

He felt her smile. “I’m thinking that this is the first morning in weeks that we’ve had to ourselves,” she murmured the words against his mouth. “And I’d like to try for another one while I still have you here.”

Shanks grinned. “My ever-practical wife.”

“You know,” she said between kisses. “We could name the next one Ben.”

He snorted, and felt how her laugh fell, soft and pleased against his mouth. “I hope you realise that he’ll never let me live it down. Ever.”

“You’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that. This might be what finally kills me.”

He felt her response in the grin pressed against his, and before she could say something about his love of dramatics – “We’re having girls from now on,” Shanks declared, rolling her over, and startling a yelp from her. “Only girls.”

“What– plural?” she laughed, but her eyes gleamed, dark-bright and awake now despite the shadows cast against her cheeks, and Shanks thought she sounded distinctly pleased at the prospect.

She combed her fingers through his hair, and he took a moment to consider her own, fanned out over the pillow, and imagined it framing another face – smaller, but the shape of it just as lovely.

“Why not?” he asked. “Ben can babysit, since he’s so popular.” He kissed his smile against her neck. “It’ll keep his hands busy when he retires.”

“Hmm. Well, he does have two.”

He pulled back at that, looking down at her. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Makino grinned, and tilted her head to catch his mouth in another kiss, and it was an effort to keep his glare from slipping. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, and Shanks was sorely tempted to point out that she didn’t sound it – although when she looked at him like that it was difficult remembering that he was trying to feign annoyance. “Anything I can do to earn your forgiveness?”

“I can think of a thing or two. Maybe.”

“Well you better tell me quickly, because if I know your son we won’t have long, even with Ben holding up the fort.”

“So bossy,” Shanks laughed against her throat. “But if that’s the mood you’re in–”

“Shanks, if the next two words out of your mouth are ‘Aye, Captain’ I will push you off the bed.”

His laughter chased away the quiet, barely leaving room for her own, a far gentler thing but no less earnest, and the sound of it pooling with warmth deep in his gut.

And if they’d harboured any hopes that their son wouldn’t realise they were awake, Shanks had a feeling he’d thoroughly ruined them; although it was difficult finding a mind to care, even after weeks without a proper night’s sleep, when the source of his troubles was also, undeniably, the source of the joy that sat, so close to the surface it was hard to feel anything else these days.

—

“Ben could work for a girl, if you don’t mind being unconventional.”

Shanks looked up from his breakfast to find Ben reading his newspaper, expression carefully blank and yielding none of his thoughts, least of all the ones that had sparked the far-too-casual remark, the culprit behind which was so obvious he didn’t even bother looking for his surprise.

“She tells you way too much,” Shanks said.

“You both tell me way too much,” Ben countered. “I’ve learned to live with it.”

“Yeah, your life is a real struggle, endlessly adored as you are. You know, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m anyone’s favourite around here.”

Ben shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a likeable guy.”

“I’m still not naming my next kid after you.”

“Did you clear that with the captain?”

“I’m the captain.”

“If you say so.”

Shanks grinned. “You’re getting way too old for that kind of cheek. Has anyone told you?”

“Has anyone told you how old you’re getting?” Ben asked. “Even if you have your next one within a few years, you’ll be in your sixties when your kids are grown.” His tone was musing when he added, “Gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘old man’.”

“Why are you like this?”

“You’ll live.”

“Everyone keeps saying that. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“You still have a few good years left,” Ben said. “And a younger wife – I hear that helps.”

“With the amount of scheming you two do, I don’t know if I agree.”

Ben smirked, turning the page of the newspaper, and Shanks went back to eating his breakfast, no ill feelings following the exchange, old as it was. And the lull that descended held a lifelong friendship’s worth of implicit support, settling without being asked in the small grooves and crevices of uncertainty that life tended to leave, even in the sturdiest of souls.

Then, the thoughtful remark accompanied by the calm flip of a page, “Benny has a nice ring to it,” Ben said. “Makino agreed.”

“Yeah, it’s so not happening.”

—

In a crew with their history and experience there were copious jokes about age, and about getting old – fond-but-weary quips that the sea was made for younger hearts, and less brittle bones. And their mortality had always been an awareness they carried with them, etched into the planks of their ship, and the scars on their skin; the keen knowledge that every day could be your last. A pirate couldn’t sail the New World without it, but there had always been an air of ease about theirs, especially their captain’s particular brand – the sense that life was as long as you lived it, and if anything happened, it was the sea’s will.

Of course, one’s mortality is a simpler matter when there’s no one else to account for upon your death.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Looking over at his captain, it was to find a pensive expression on his face – enough so that Ben was tempted to remark on it, but the underlying severity didn’t seem to invite humour, however sardonic. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t his usual, exaggerated woes.

He was proven right a moment later, when Shanks said, “If anything ever happens to me, I need to know that they’re taken care of.”

Ben frowned, wondering what could have prompted that thought, and now of all times – the midsummer sun sitting at its noontime perch, and the seemingly endless sky touched white from the heat. The shade beneath the awning where they were seated offered respite, and inside the tavern at their backs the rest of the crew were gathered, the familiar cacophony of merriment softened by the unforgiving temperature, seeming to cling to the air, ripe with saltwater from the sea.

It was peace, and in abundance – a cup fairly spilling over with it, but then maybe that was the crux of the problem.

The boy asleep in the crook of Ben’s arm shared none of his father’s worries, exhausted from the heat and heart too young to know there was more in the world to contend with, the pale bridge of his nose touched with freckles despite their many precautions. He hadn’t budged in over an hour, and Ben’s arm had long since fallen asleep, but he ignored the small discomfort, and didn’t so much as shift in his seat.

“I know you’re close to tipping forty,” Ben said then, a curious sort of defiance rising in place of his former amusement, and there was little to be found of teasing when he added, “You haven’t exactly let us forget. But this is a new level of melodrama, even for you.”

Shanks laughed, but it held none of the humour it sought to imitate. “I think you know this isn’t me being melodramatic.”

Ben said nothing to that, but was acutely aware of the small weight in his arms, and those quiet breaths.

“You’d take care of them for me?” Shanks asked then. “If anything happens–”

“I’m a little insulted that you’re asking,” Ben said, cutting him off. “It goes without saying.”

Shanks didn’t respond, and Ben’s frown deepened. “What’s brought this on?” he asked, observing him where he sat, gaze fixed on his son, sleeping soundly. Inside the bar behind them he could hear Makino laughing, the sound of it slipping between the bat-wing doors. Two things that usually kept his captain’s heart light, but that seemed to be weighing on it now. “Teach?”

Shanks’ features darkened at the mention, the gesture pulling at the scars. “Yeah.”

“You’re an idiot if you think I won’t drag your ass away from that battle alive.”

The assurance didn’t have its desired effect. “I need to know that she’s safe,” Shanks said. “That they’re both–”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ben said. “And if I can’t, you have a whole crew who will.”

Shanks nodded, but said nothing, and he hadn’t taken his eyes away from his son. Ben followed his gaze – there was a spot of drool on his shirt growing steadily bigger, and the boy had a good portion of it gripped in one hand, the other shoved in his mouth; small hints that suggested resistance, if someone were to move him.

Shanks’ smile quirked then, allowing his frown to lift, although not completely. “Isn’t this where you’re supposed to say something like ‘good riddance, idiot, I’ve given you enough years of my life’?”

Ben snorted. “I have. My best years – and my hair.”

“I still maintain that has nothing to do with me.”

“And yet I’m the one with a full head of grey hair, not you.”

That brought on a genuine smile, and the shadows yielded their grip. “You’ll have your fun at my expense soon enough, I wager – I hear if anything in life is sure to give you grey hair it’s your kids.”

Ben looked down at his godson. “Something tells me this one’s worth it.”

“Yeah,” Shanks laughed, without hesitation, and the sound curiously gentle where it came to settle, between the quiet and the peace.

“More than I can put into words.”

—

Their departure for the Grand Line was met by a cloudless horizon, blue skies bright and unblemished and the wind little more than a sigh against the sails; the East Blue’s gentle temperament unchanged, and the quiet waters set to see them off without reproach.

But there was something else – a small heart’s permission that wasn’t so easily granted, and that made her own sit a little too close to hear throat, when she was already fighting to hold back her tears.

“No.”

The word was muffled, spoken into the folds of his father’s cloak, but it fell with surprising conviction, for all that it was a terribly small thing.

“Well,” Makino said, laughter thick and falling awkwardly under the din of the busy wharf. The pocket of privacy they’d claimed for their goodbyes remained undisturbed, but there was no ignoring the preparations taking place, familiar to her after so many years, and so many goodbyes, but this one felt new, and she at a loss. “I don’t think you need to worry about who his favourite is.”

The look he gave her from over the top of their son’s head broke her heart. “I know I’ve joked about it,” Shanks said, with a laugh that was anything but convincing. “Joke’s on me now, I guess.”

His look turned pleading then, and she was prepared for resistance when she reached out to extract their son, her mother’s touch gently beseeching. But she wasn’t prepared for that little voice to break, and her hands hesitated, suddenly uncertain where she wasn’t used to faltering.

Shanks’ expression softened, and, “Hey, little fish,” he said, ducking his head to catch that dark gaze, stubbornly averted. “You be nice to your mom, yeah?” Then, smile lifting, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

That little head gave an exaggerated shake, his refusal silent now but no less affecting, although when Makino pulled gently on his arms he allowed himself be lifted out of his father’s grip, and the wet sob that fell into the space between them wedged itself between her ribs.

“Okay, this just isn’t fair,” Shanks laughed, expression echoing her own now. “You never gave me this much grief for leaving,” he told her, and his voice sounded too rough for the levity he was attempting.

“I don’t think I’m the one he takes after,” Makino said, as a small brow pressed against the hollow of her throat. “If there was ever any doubt of his parentage.”

Shanks’ smile was wry, but the affection alighting behind his eyes softened the edges of his derision into fondness. “The hair tipped me off a while ago, love, but thank you for that.”

Makino laughed, the sound a little broken, but her smile wouldn’t be stifled, and when he tugged her close it was a grinning kiss he stole, along with a moment – just for the two of them, and the little life held between them. And another one, newer still–

She felt the touch of his fingers against her stomach, and the warmth of his palm where he pressed it just beneath her ribcage. Too early to share their news yet, but the secret tucked away beneath her heart sat with a new and bright sort of giddiness, despite the knowledge that she would be going through most of it alone this time.

Sketching a kiss to her brow, “You’ll call,” Shanks said, dropping his eyes back to hers, expression bleeding serious for a single, hard second. “If you need me to come back.”

Cheek pressed to the top of the little head resting against her shoulder, she nodded. “I will.”

“And if I don’t make it back in time, please don’t name my daughter Ben.”

“I’ll make no such promise.”

The look he gave her was a thing of long-suffering and desperate fondness, and her smile came without effort, along with her laughter, and she marvelled silently that he always managed to lure them out, no matter the circumstances.

“I guess that gives you incentive to come back sooner rather than later,” Makino said, but felt her attempted cleverness was ruined somewhat by the quaver in her voice.

Raising his hand, Shanks touched his fingers to her cheek. “I’ve never needed any other incentive than you.” Then to the toddler in her arms, who made a grab for his hand when he reached for him. “And you, for all that your loyalties are entirely questionable.”

Makino thought there wasn’t anything questionable about the way that little hand refused to let go, but refrained from pointing it out, realising his teasing was a necessity, and not born from any genuine uncertainty on his part.

“You know,” Shanks said then, tucking his fingers around those small, chubby ones, squeezing, “I think there’s someone else who wants to say goodbye.”

The look he gave Ben filled the gap with the things he didn’t say, and the exchange was an effortless thing, Ben stepping into sight just as a noise of complaint fell, and claiming his godson’s attention before he’d fully had the chance to notice his father stepping back.

The small distraction was enough – and it was necessary, Makino thought, watching Shanks turn away to walk down the docks towards the ship, the rigid line of his shoulders cut sharp underneath the cloak. He didn’t look back, and she wondered how much strength it took.

“Makino,” Ben said then, dragging her eyes back, only to be met with a keenly knowing look. “Be careful.”

Her mouth pursed with a smile. She hadn’t told him the news yet, but she wasn’t surprised that Shanks had. “I still think Benny has a nice ring to it,” she said.

He snorted. “I think he might actually demote me for that.”

She laughed. “I’ve been told I have sway with the captain – I’ll put in a good word for you.”

The look he shot her was far too amused, but the easy repartee helped lift her heart from where it had sunk over the course of the morning.

On his godfather’s arm now, her son was quiet, although there were still tears clinging to his eyelashes. And it would be months this time, she knew. Nothing new where her heart was concerned, accustomed to waiting and fonder for it, but for that little heart, so quick to attach itself and not used to letting go, even for just a moment…

She didn’t think about the mornings that would follow – the questions she knew would come, still half-articulate strings of almost-words, but the intent behind them clear. She could only hope her answers would be enough, and that the months would go by too quickly for him to notice.

She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if she ever had to explain that his father wasn’t coming back, but the thought was relentless now, watching the crew preparing the ship, and the pale line of the horizon in the distance.

“It’s not looking good, is it?” she asked, as Ben handed her son back, making sure to keep her voice level, even as she heard how it wavered. She thought of the headlines in the newspaper, and Luffy’s ever-rising bounty.

Ben shrugged. “The sea is the sea.”

“And the people on it?”

His smile pressed to a tight line, and he threw a look towards the ship. “We’re not strangers to changing currents. We’ll do what needs to be done.”

It wasn’t who she’d been referring to, and he knew that, but she still appreciated it – the assurance, even if the offering wasn’t as explicit as she’d hoped. But she knew, and better than most, the promises that they couldn’t make, no matter how much they might want to.

But there was another kind of promise, and one Makino was certain she could ask for, even before she spoke.

“Ben,” she said then, before he could make for the gangway. She hated the finality of these moments, threatening at the back of her mind – the uncertainty that always followed their departures, that it might not be the same crew returning. She watched Shanks’ shape further down the docks – caught the edge of his smile, harder than it should be, and the red of his hair, bleeding copper-and-gold under the afternoon sun.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she turned her eyes back to Ben. “Take care of him for me?”

That hard expression softened a fraction, and held something wry that she thought hinted at a private joke, and for a moment she wondered if he’d tell her.

But instead he only reached out to ruffle her son’s hair, gaze fixed on that little face, and his smile was an old thing – as old as their friendship and promising that it would be older still, before he said, not a hint of wry humour in sight now, although his words hinted at an ambiguity she didn’t quite understand–

“Until my dying day.”

[storyunrelated]

Cold Hard Hugs #15_We Have A Doorbell?

So, so much of this story is just semi-romantic/squishy wheel-spinning. Or what amounts to it, given my inability to impart human warmth into the story.

However! This bit does end on a cliffhanger of sorts, as the doorbell does ring!

WHO COULD IT BE?!

Later, we did go back to my room.

Compared to Tillie’s it was perhaps a touch shabby. Hers was the very model of order and tidiness when it came to what mattered and then the epitome of cosiness when it came to her corner o’ blankets. Mine was just a mess. I had stuff, and that stuff tended to spread out and occupy far more space than it deserved or needed.

I also had not made my bed, so things looked even worse. This horrible pit of a duvet and  mess of pillows, ugh. As Tillie and I stood in the doorway gazing over the devastation I reflected on my decision to not subtly slip ahead and maybe just tidy up even a tiny bit. Oh well, too late now.

“And this is my horrible, horrible room,” I said.

“It’s very...lived in,” she said, with obvious care and tact.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to see it.”

“I like it! It’s very you!”

“Very me, very lived in. I suppose there are worse things. Would you like to actually go inside?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” she said, and then went in. I followed. We seemed to do a lot of that recently; going into places and me always following behind. Just one of those things you notice, I guess. She moved through the debris and detritus with the same remarkable grace and ease she demonstrated anytime she moved anywhere. Seriously, I struggled not to knock anything over and I have legs, how she manages with a tail is a mystery I doubt I will ever get to the bottom of.

She headed for the bed and so I did as well, though while she slithered her way onto it I paused to move some of the bottles sat beside it into the bin. Why they hadn’t been there in the first place I can put down entirely to me thinking I’d get round to it later. That later was now.

“Do you drink in bed?” Tillie asked, testing the bed for quality at the same time. In my estimation the bed was okay, but I was the sort of person who’d try (and fail, but still) to sleep on a floor out of choice so I’m clearly not the sort of person fit to pass judgement.

“When I’m thirsty,” I said, then sitting down on the bed next to her.

“Seems comfy,” she said, her tests concluded.

“It has its moments. So is this living up to your expectations?” I asked, fully aware that the answer was probably going to be no. Then again, what on earth could she possibly have expected? She looked around again, in case anything had changed from when the door had opened to now. Nothing had.

“I think I prefer my room,” she said, again full of grace and tact.

“And with good reason. Ah, I do need to tidy up I’m just...lazy,” I said. Honesty is the best policy.

“But it just seems fair that I should see your room, you know?” She asked.

“Oh, definitely. Though, to be really fair, we’d have to actually get into the bed,” I said.

“We would?” This did not seem something that had occurred to her. It had occurred to me immediately!

“We got into that nice little nest thing of yours. Was super cosy. I think we nodded off,” I said.

“We did…”

So much ‘we’ happening up in here.

“We should....probably - you know, to be fair - probably get into your bed too. I guess?” She asked, running a hand across the duvet as though checking for traps. Really should have made the bed.

“For the sake of fairness, yes. It’s demanded of us.”

Both of us then waited for the other to make the first move. The longer we waited, the harder it was for me to keep a straight face. I could tell she was about to go as well; something in the flicker of her lights and the focus of her lenses. I wasn’t going to let her beat me! I would never live it down! For a day at least. That would be unbearable.

It happened anyway. Mere seconds after I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to lose I did just that, cracking up and starting to giggle. That this set Tillie off almost immediately didn’t help, because I’d still technically lost. Not even that funny, again; it seemed to have bypassed my defences entirely!

Through our giggles we reached mutual, unspoken agreement that we should actually get under the duvet at this point, and so we did. It being a bed and not a deliciously cosy nest this wasn’t as easy as it had previously been, but we were adults and we did a fairly good job of it. After some initial tangling and nonsense we both ended up beside one another, duvet on top. An optimal configuration!

With her back to me I put my arms around her and felt that same low-level warmth and that same gentle vibration. I’d missed them both, I realised, even though it really hadn’t been that long at all. Being under the duvet helped with the warmth but there really was something innately comforting in them. Or at least I thought so. Would I have felt the same way had it nothing to do with Tillie? I don’t know, but it’s a moot point. It does, it does and so it does. That clears that up.

We basked in this for a little while, and nothing else was required. I, personally, considered myself extremely lucky to still be in her good graces at all and even in the merest way. To be cuddling again - and so soon! - was just about beyond my comprehension, but I wasn’t going to question it too much in case my doubt somehow ruptured this moment.

“You know what we haven’t done in a while?” I asked eventually, giving her a squeeze and feeling her wriggle back into me. I was mainly asking to quieten the needling voices in the sub-parts of my brain that were telling me bad things. It worked pretty well.

“What?” Tillie asked, and something in her tone suggested sleepiness. No bad thing.

“Watched a film. Feels like it’s been ages,” I said.

“Really? It hadn’t been that long. It’s only been…” Tillie could not remember how long it had been. Neither could I. Probably could have done if I’d put some effort in, but this would not serve my purposes - my dark designs! That it just felt like a long time was enough.

“Huh. It has been ages, hasn’t it?” Tillie concluded eventually, craning her neck to try and look back at me.

“It has. Feels wrong somehow,” I said.

“It does…”

Tillie moving her head had caused the hood of the, uh, hoody (which she still had on! In defiance of...nothing in particular) to fall into my face. I was ill-equipped to deal with this, but with only low-level awkward reaching around was I able to fix it.

What with the hood and the room being mine there was an overwhelming smell of me, which did rather remind me of the way that Tillie didn’t really smell of anything, which further reminded me of the way Michelle had. This memory did not make me happy, so I trod on it in my head until it went away and focused instead on who I was cuddling, namely my girlfriend. That was another thing I’d forgotten about - our limp-wristed attempt at this being official. Should probably try harder at thinking about it that way. Mea culpa.

“I have a plan,” I said, again speaking to drive the thoughts back into the darker, quieter parts of my head.

“Hmm?”

“I get a film, I bring it here, I put on that laptop of mine over there and we watch it in this position or a position very much like it.”

“That sounds nice,” Tillie said, yawning.

“Are you yawning?”

“I didn’t sleep well,” she said and it took me a second or so to twig why. That made me feel bad, but I rolled with it.

“You mean you didn’t standby well?”

She elbowed me again.

“Shush. Go do your plan. Pick something good,” she said.

“Like I’ve ever picked anything bad…” I said, beginning the complicated process of disentangling myself. This involved a lot of careful, considered movement so as not to fling the duvet to the floor or get myself wrapped up in it and fall over. I did an alright job, actually, and lifted myself up and over Tillie and was set to finish it flawlessly when she grabbed my hand as I moved off, very nearly pulling me off my feet. Ever, like, got a sleeve stuck on a door handle? It was like that. I looked down at her, all nestled and nuzzled in my bed and felt the strangest lurch in my chest.

“We’re okay, aren’t we?” She asked. This seemed a bit out of left field, as I wasn’t entirely sure what she was asking about. Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?

“Okay?” I asked, dumbly.

“Like...us...together. We’re okay, right?” She asked. No, really, shouldn’t I be the one asking that given I’d been the cause of such ruckus? Weird. Maybe I missed something. I tried to put on my most reassuring smile (whatever that actually looked like), knelt down and brought her hand up to kiss it. Never done that before. Felt like the right time. Seemed to work.

“Better than okay. Fantastic. Why would we be anything else?”

“With what happened...I worry about doing something wrong and messing it all up. I don’t want to mess it up, I like this…” She said, taking my hand in both of hers and pulling it in towards her chest.

“So do I. And don’t worry, okay? You haven’t messed anything up and you won’t mess anything up. We’ll be okay, alright? Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, very quietly. I leaned in and gave her a peck on the headplate, which managed to draw a particular cute, wordless sound of her. So cute in fact I did it again just to hear it again. Just as good the second time!

“You might have to let go of my hand,” I said, resting my forehead on her headplate. Is it actually called a headplate? That’s just what I’ve been thinking of it as. What if I’m wrong? What if I’m offensively wrong? Well, I haven’t said it outloud so I’m safe. Unless someone has access to my thoughts, somehow.

What a terrifying thought…

.Tillie released my hand and curled deeper beneath the covers as I dashed off to find something pleasantly watchable. This proved trickier than I would have initially suspected. Back in the old, gloriously platonic days I would have probably not given it much thought, but now I felt it was owed thought and so I was for a moment utterly paralysed.

Brainless action pap? No, that wouldn’t do, not even if it was high-quality. It just didn’t suit the environment, you know? The lying down, the cuddling; it would take something out of watching a man fry another man’s face only to then find out the man in question is (gasp!) a police officer. Or would it? Maybe it would add to it. Or maybe it was a non-issue.

This was complicated.

Something slower, perhaps? Something with a rich and involving storyline? Hmm, perhaps not. That would need far too much concentration and would preclude meaningless conversation - an often important part of cuddles. So no, not like that.

Ugh. This is taking too long.

How about that film with the dragons? And the girl is a dragon but doesn’t look like it until she does? And there’s, like, an old guy in a stone box? That was alright. Not too clever, not too dumb, the girl had cool red hair? Yeah, that’ll work. I fumbled through the collection, grabbed the film in question without looking at it long enough to read and remember the title and then stumbled my way back up the stairs.

“You were ages,” Tillie said on my return, a barely visible cluster of lenses lurking in the darkness beneath the duvet. I faffed with the laptop.

“I was overwhelmed by choice,” I said, and this was true. Through my faffing I got the laptop open and on and the disc in place. My laptop is a horribly beaten up, slow machine of indeterminate make that once slashed my finger open. But it’s mine, and it plays DVD’s, so hell. Once certain that the film would play I clambered back into bed and wrapped myself around Tillie again. For her part she seemed to appreciate this.

The film was much as I remembered it. It was a big, mulchy pile of fluff with dragons attached but it was at least a consistent pile and one that abided by the rules it set for itself and whose characters were not overtly stupid. And someone got cut in half, which was pretty cool. I mean, you didn’t really see it - the BBFC frown on that sort of thing and people making films like low ratings - but it’s implied well, artfully done you know?

By the time the film concluded Tillie had dozed off, and fair play to her. She had after all had a poor night, by her own admission and by my own doing, so I wasn’t going to disturb her. Given how we were wrapped around each other (her rather more literally than me; tail and all) me leaving wasn’t an option, but I was pretty comfy anyway so why would I even want to? I tugged the duvet up a little more and settled in deeper. Bed is good. Resting my eyes is good.

That I also nodded off was inevitable, and I was not in the least bit surprised when I opened my eyes up again and found everything to be much darker. Checking the time was impossible in my position, as indeed were a lot of things. It felt like half of my body was still asleep and at this point I had fewer reservations about waking TIlie, so made a clumsy effort at slipping away. She remained out of it as I staggered upright, one leg refusing to obey my commands and one arm feeling like it belonged to someone else. I needed a pee.

I was also monstrously hungry. I dealt with the peeing first before heading downstairs. I hadn’t actually eaten anything since...well, for a while. Being around Tillie, mealtimes lost some of their regularity and I’d apparently found myself forgetting about them. To be fair, I never liked eating much in the first place, but my body has ideas all its own and my stomach wouldn’t stop grumbling. So food it was. I had cereal. It was deeply underwhelming.

While I was in the midst of cleaning up I heard the characteristic thump-thumping of Tillie descending the stairs and, indeed, mere moments later she came into the kitchen. Her ability to be so bright and bushy after a nap which had left me a numb husk was unreal and unnatural. Then again, she might have gone through the groggy phase upstairs away from my prying eyes. There were many factors of which I was unaware and should therefore not jump to conclusions. Life lesson, that one.

“Goooood evening!” She said as she came up and hugged me, putting obvious relish into stretching out her words. I stood and took the hug like a champ, only wincing a little bit as she pulled away again. Oddly, she then just stood there, not-so-subtly making a big show of glancing at me and then away again, one hand on the doorframe the other unable to pick a good place to settle.

I had the distinct impression I was supposed to notice something. Squinting something tugged at the very corners of my brain. The hoody was gone, for one, which meant I was actually looking at her the way I was used to looking at her. But still, something nagged.

“You look…different…” I said. There was something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Tillie remained coy, cocking her head, clasping her hands behind her and letting the end of her tail flick around the way she always did.

“Do I?” She asked, putting as much innocence into her words as was possible with such small ones. There was a considerable amount of innocence. I squinted a bit more. What was it? There was something, and it was obvious, but it was so obvious it was slipping right past me. Little details nagged at the corner of my eyes and I looked down at her and it finally hit me. She looked different, because she looked different.

“Are you…a different shape?” I asked, not sure if the words leaving my mouth made sense. She cocked her head to the other side.

“Maybe…” she said. I looked harder. She definitely was. It was hard to describe what she’d been like before exactly – sort of softly rounded, but stretched, and not too much (helpful, I know) – but it was clear she wasn’t quite like that anymore. She was starting to come in a bit at the waist, narrowing off at the shoulders ever so slightly and bulging just a touch around the torso. That’s when I started putting things together.

“You can do that?” I asked, swallowing.

“Maybe…” she said, trying and failing to conceal her glee at this point “I mean, I’d heard about it happening but I didn’t think it would happen to me!”

“What is it?” I asked, hopefully not tactlessly.

There followed a breathlessly quick explanation from Tillie. At first it covered some old ground: her growth, how she’d started small and got big and soon - something I still didn’t fully understand to be honest - and then segueing into environmental factors and their contribution to further growth and change. I understood maybe one word in ten (and that word was usually ‘the’) but nodded along all the same. The conclusion I drew from all of it once she’d finished was that the two of us being together in the way we were had somehow led to this. I still didn’t understand, but as always I didn’t really need to. It had happened, and me being dense wasn’t going to make it have happened any less.

“Wow,” I said with full sincerity.

“I know, right?” Tillie squealed, giving another turn on the spot.

 The new shape was actually quite nice. In an aesthetic sense. Fewer hard edges. My bruised parts would appreciate that, I expected. Now I’d noticed the change, it was very hard not to notice, and harder still to look away. I could have just been afraid to look her in the face.

“My eyes are up here,” she said, which made my gaze snap up immediately.

“How long have you been waiting to say that?” I asked. Her light flickered as she tried to remain impassive and failed.

“Hours. Hours!” She mock-wailed, throwing her hands up. This at least made me smile.

“You...you do like it, don’t you? I was sort of nervous about it when I noticed it but...it’s okay, right?” She asked.

“I like you,” I said, which made her lights go a particularly rosy shade of red.

“I know that. I mean, do you like this?” She asked, holding her arms up and giving a slight twist to the side. She then added: “I like you too, by the way.”

“Good to know. And of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about these things. People are weird and react weirdly.”

“This is true. But no, I like you, I like this, I like all of this. Everything is great.”

Everything was pretty great, though I had difficulty concocting a timeline in my head of when exactly Tillie had undergone this change. Surely it couldn’t have happened during the nap? Or just last night? Was this a gradual thing I had failed to see until now? Who knew. I should probably start paying more attention to these things, given, you know, girlfriend.

The doorbell then rang. This was news to me on several levels as I wasn’t expecting anyone for one thing, but that wasn’t my primary source of astonishment.

“We have a doorbell?” I asked, amazed.