#Sunny would have magical gloves of course

[dannybobany]

Omori magical girl au. That’s it that’s the prompt. I just think it’d be neat

[raysofcrosby]

CHRISTMAS WITH YOU – k. kaprizov

warning(s): mentions of death and loss, but otherwise just tons of cute holiday cheer, an embarrassing near fall ice skating and just cute holiday fluff.

word count: 17,897

an: this better late than never, fic is my entry for @antoineroussel's winter fic exchange 2k23!! i had the absolutely pleasure of writing for @callsign-denmark who supplied me a list of players she enjoys reading about and got me broaden my horizons outside of my usual hockey men to write about and got me to write about the happy ray of sunshine that is kirill kaprizov!! as a sucker of friends to lovers, this is a friends to lovers fic, sprinkled with some nice christmas spirit and ofc, as a lover of happy endings– this one's got a good one!! i had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy 🥰💙

Tori Holly never understood when people said that Holidays could be some of the loneliest and saddest times in people’s lives. Growing up, she remembered how lively their house always was– filled with music, laughter and the smell of home cooking spreading throughout the house. Especially around Christmas time– that was always the most magical time of the year.

It was when her parents seemed to pull all of their magic together and turn the holiday into every feel good Christmas movie alive. And while both of her parents were only children and her one set of Grandparents that were still alive lived on the west coast– she and her older sister Jess (Jessica only if she was in trouble) never felt like their family of four celebrations were lacking. They were all each other needed and it was always more than enough.

The teaming up on their parents for the gingerbread house building contest, taking turns going shopping with their parents to be able to pick out gifts to buy using some of their saved up money (and in the younger years, their parents money of course). Watching their mom make her mom’s special hot cocoa recipe that she promised to share the recipe with them once they got older “and you two can do the same with your children one day.” Building snowmen, snowball fights, that horrible time Jess convinced Tori to climb into the igloo they tried to build and having it collapse on her (though thankfully it wasn’t a lot of snow and Jess tearfully pulled her sister out by her gloved hand.) Sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and snuggled up beside their parents as they watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas after begging their parents to let them open just one present on Christmas Eve like they did every year without fail.

No, Tori Holly could never understand how Christmas time more specifically, could be one of the worst times of someone’s life– not until Christmas 2006, when it was going to be the first Christmas and her first birthday without her mom. She was only seven and Jess eleven when their mom got sick. She couldn’t remember a lot of the specifics, but she remembered her mom never looking or acting any differently even after her parents had sat them down on the couch and said “mommy’s doctors say that I’m very sick, but I’m not going to stop fighting.” Sure, her mom was slower around the house, maybe a little more tired– but there wasn’t anything specific that stuck out to her.

In fact, that last Christmas of ‘05, they still did every tradition they’d done in the years prior and she never once saw her mom falter or complain. And by May of ‘06, two months after Jess had turned twelve and only seven months until Tori would turn nine, she had completely forgotten about the “I’m sick” conversation there on the couch. Until right at the end of the September, when she’d gotten called out of class to go to the front office. And when she got there, she saw her Grandma Carol standing there speaking to the woman at the front desk.

“Your dad sent me here to pick you up and Grandpa Dan is going to grab Jess.” She had said it with a smile that Tori couldn’t pinpoint exactly, but instantly recognized it as a softer than her usual big, sunny smile.

She thought maybe they were going to grab ice cream and spend some more time at home with their mom. Seeing as only almost a month into school, their dad let them stay home on Friday’s just so they could spend a little extra time with her. But there was no ice cream and her Grandma didn’t take her home– they were at the hospital. And when she walked down the halls with her Grandma holding her hand and they saw her Dad, Grandpa Dan and a crying Jess, she remembered getting that sinking feeling in her stomach that something was wrong.

And something was wrong. Because it turned out that they were all there to say their last goodbyes to her mom. While she was there, she swore time dragged on– but looking back on it now, she realized just how fast her life had changed in one hour. 

They “celebrated” her ninth birthday and Christmas three months later and while their dad tried his hardest to not let the magic their home always held fade, and he really did try, there would always be a mom shaped hole in her childhood home and she wondered whether Christmas would ever be the same.

Luckily though, their dad was a Godsend. A man who was actively grieving the love of his life while adjusting to being a widower and parenting two girls– one of whom was entering her teenage years– Tori never once saw him waver. He was there at every school or after school event they had, he kept up their traditions, and was the shoulder to lean on and cry on whenever they needed one. He never once complained and after she got older, Tori always wondered how he did it. How he managed to parent them, stay strong and be everything they needed all while he was grieving on his own.

But that was just it– he was the hero their broken hearts needed and he helped heal theirs and his own every day of every month, and every birthday and holiday that came and went…he always managed to keep that magic alive.

To the point where Tori and Jess started to love Christmas once again and not see it as a mourning time for those childhood memories they left behind. And while their mom was a key figure missing at their poignant times– first days of school, first boyfriends, proms, first day of college, graduations, Jess’s wedding day to her high school sweetheart Steven and even the birth of their daughter Clara (their mom’s namesake), their dad, Jess and even she, always made sure that their mom was a part of it.

Especially once Jess and Steven had Clara, and on Tori’s 17th birthday, nonetheless, Jess had told Tori that suddenly she understood the kind of love that their parents had for them and how their dad managed to keep the magic.

Even a week later going on to say, “I would go to the end of the earth to make sure she was happy, and she just tore through my vagina like it was nothing, last week.”

And for the longest time after their mom died, life seemed to slowly return back to what their dad had fondly called their new normal. Eventually, Tori had gone to and graduated from college and moved further into the city not too far away from Jess and Steven or their home to work as a social media intern for the Minnesota Wild. A job that she luckily got with some help from her college mentor who helped her apply and wrote quite the recommendation letter for.

The life she was building for herself felt like a dream. Sure, growing up just south of Saint Paul, she and her family had frequented both Vikings and Wild games. But working behind the scenes in social media for the hockey team whose games she grew up attending was a whole different atmosphere. She met great people within the organization and had even found herself on a first name basis with some of the players.

But it was when she moved into her post-grad apartment the season after commuting from her childhood home to Saint Paul that she became better friends with two players on the team. Jordan Greenway, who was going on his third season with the Wild, and Ryan Hartman who had come from the Philadelphia Flyers. The two weren’t roommates, but both coincidentally lived a few doors down on the very same hall that Tori had. And after bumping into each other a few times and also seeing each other at the rink, it was natural that the three formed a good friendship during her first season working for the team.

Things were going great and Tori had felt like she was on a high after that first season interning for the Wild for the 2019-2020 season. Even when Covid struck and things were in such a limbo. And at the end of what was a wild and unknowing what was ahead time, she felt blessed enough to have been invited back as an intern for the 2020-2021 season, even shadowing more on the producer side of players interviews and getting to see more behind the scenes. And with every day she went to work, she felt more and more confident in her job and herself. Moving away from home was scary, but she was starting to form a life for herself in Saint Paul that she knew her mom would’ve been proud of.

Ryan and Jordan both were amongst the first few people to congratulate her when they found out she got the second producer job within the same department in what would be her third year working for the team that 2021-2022 season.

And it was truly as if things couldn’t go wrong. She loved her apartment, she got to see her sister and her family often, and she had made a nice circle of friends in the job she also loved. And as she celebrated New Years Eve with the Wild at a hotel ballroom the organization had booked out for everyone to celebrate before the Winter Classic the next morning where they would host the St. Louis Blues at Target Field in Minneapolis. She invited Jess and Steven as her plus ones, booking them a room in the hotel so they didn’t have to drive the 30 minutes home the next morning and probably hungover.

Tori woke up early the next morning back in her apartment and went through her whole routine before getting dressed and heading out the door to catch her uber that would be taking her to the stadium where she would be getting everything together before heading over to the field to work the game. And it was just before she and her co-workers were heading out of Xcel Energy Center that she got a call from her dad, answering it like it was just any other old phone call and not one that would ultimately change her entire life.

Just like when she was seven, that sinking feeling in her stomach was back, only this time around it was more poignant and felt like it would knock her legs out from beneath her and sink her down to the floor.

There had been an accident an hour earlier on the same street that the hotel where the Wild New Years Eve party had been hosted– a car accident. Jess and Steven had decided to check out early, walking to the cafe down the block from the hotel to grab some coffee and donuts to take with them before they would drive back to her dad’s to pick up Clara– Tori had the text conversation with Jess in her phone to prove it along with a “not as hungover as we thought, but hungover enough for sugary donuts” selfie of Jess and Steven that Jess had sent with her “good morning, we had a great time and I’ll text you when we get home” text.

Only Tori would never receive that text, because Jess and Steven would never make it home to their dad’s to pick up Clara. They would get hit by a drunk driver who ran a red light while they crossed the street in a crosswalk.

In an instant, she had lost her older sister and brother-in-law, while her niece had lost both of her parents— and it was a pain that Tori never, ever wanted her to feel. To add on top of it, in the flurry of grief and ‘what happens next’ endless scenarios, it was revealed in their will that if anything were to happen to either Jess or Steven…then Tori would become the legal guardian of Clara.

She had made the commitment to accept the position as Clara’s Godmother when they had asked her almost two weeks after Clara was born. And now, she knew the best way she could honor both her older sister and a man who was like a brother to her, by dedicating herself to making the best life possible for Clara.

The last eleven months of seeing grief counselors, balancing work, frequent trips to her dad’s house where Clara was staying for the meantime and her new responsibility of taking care of a soon-to-be eight-year-old as a soon-to-be 25-year-old….all of it had finally come down to now.

It was December. The week leading up to Christmas. Five days until their shared birthday and most importantly, six days until what would be Clara’s first Christmas without her parents.

And Tori had her heart set on making it as great as a Christmas it could be for Clara, just like her dad had done for her and Jess after their mom had died. 

“Another month?!” Tori gasped, keeping her voice low as she leaned against the hall of her childhood home. “But Andrew, you said I’d be able to move in by tomorrow. I’ve already got friends to help me move everything up to that floor.”

“I know I did Tori, but they were finishing the inspection today and there was more mold in the apartment than we first thought, plus some issues with the kitchen and bathroom areas,” Andrew, one of the landlords of her apartment building said, actually sounding sincere. “I’m not going to let you and your niece move in there and put both of your healths at risk.”

Tori nodded, rubbing her right temple with her free hand. “I understand, Andrew.”

“Barb asked them to start as soon as possible because we know you need this two bedroom. So they’re going to start cleaning everything up tomorrow. The guy said that there might be a chance they finish before a month, but that’s the at most it’ll take, time that he gave her.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I appreciate it, really.” She replied, peeking around the corner into her Dad’s living room to see Clara still kneeling in front of the Christmas tree. “Thank you both for looking out for us, I really appreciate it.”

“You’ve had a really rough year, Tori and you’ve always been a really good tenant. Anything my wife and I can do to help you out, we’re more than happy to.”

Tori took a deep breath and exhaled, nodding again. “Keep me updated if there’s any changes.”

“Of course. Have a good day.”

Once she hung up the call, Tori let her head lean back against the wall once more as she closed her eyes. The moment that she had found out that she was going to be Clara’s guardian, Tori had put in a request for a two bedroom apartment. At the time, there was a six month waitlist, so her dad had agreed to take care of Clara until Tori could secure a two bedroom apartment for them both. It wasn’t like she had just dropped her niece off with her dad and went on with her life. On weekends when she had them free, she would drive back to her hometown and spend the night there, keeping herself as involved with Clara’s life as possible. She would pick her up from school, sometimes take her out of school and take her to lunch. She was just as involved in her niece’s life as her dad was, only she wasn’t sleeping down the hall every single night.

And three weeks ago, Barb, the other landlord of their complex, had called her to ask if she was still interested in the two bedroom apartment. And once she told Tori it was hers, Tori knew there were some steps to go through and she requested that Barb and Andrew have whoever it was doing the cleaning, be very thorough. Being grandparents themselves to kids around Clara’s age, they both agreed without a problem.

Until there was a problem that the hired cleaner had found and reported. Some mold that he thought might be more than a surface problem. Andrew and Barb had brought someone out to inspect…leading to the phone call that Tori had just hung up on. She knew it wouldn’t be a problem with her dad for Clara to live here for a month longer. He loved having Clara around, plus he knew that Tori was trying her best to get everything set up so that Clara would be comfortable and in a safe environment when it came time to move.

The only problem was that her dad was out west in Washington State, taking care of her Grandma Doris, who had fallen down in her apartment in the assisted living complex, broke her hip and needed to get surgery. He left only this morning when she and Clara dropped him off at the airport and his return was up in the air, but at most he said he could be back before or after New Years Eve. So now Tori was tasked with the problem of figuring out how they were going to spend Christmas and the week leading up to it, when she needed to be at work a few days this week and all of Clara’s belongings were here at her dad’s house.

Initially, she figured she’d just pack up her things and move into her dad’s place until he came back. Dealing with the extra commute wouldn’t be that bad and Clara wouldn’t have to relocate her things, more importantly they wouldn’t have to lug the already wrapped Christmas presents over to her apartment. However, the short trial run she did when her Dad had informed her of his trip out west– left her with leaving five minutes to spare before she would be deemed late to work.

Which is why they were over at her dad’s place– grabbing the presents already wrapped for her and Clara beneath the tree and putting them into an old foldable wagon before putting them into her car and driving back into the city.

“Aunt Tori, are we taking Grandpa’s too?” Clara asked, calling out.

Tori put her phone back into her front pocket and walked out from the hall, over towards the decorated Christmas tree. “We can if you want. That way if he’s able to come home earlier, we can have him come over to the apartment and open his presents there.”

Clara looked at her and then back at the tree. “But then Grandpa will have to drive back here with his presents, right?”

“He could always sleep on the couch,” Tori shrugged.

Clara laughed before scrunching her nose. “He’s old though.” She looked back towards the tree and sighed. “We can just drive over here when he comes home, right? So we can be with him when he opens his presents?’

“I think that sounds like a great plan, Clara.”

“Okay, I’ll leave them then,” she said, putting down the present that she’d been holding. “I think I got all of ours though. I’m ready.”

Tori nodded and grabbed onto the handle of the wagon as she let Clara walk ahead of her and they left her childhood home, tugging the Christmas presents that she and her dad had bought Clara, along with some of the presents Clara and her dad had bought for her. Once she helped Clara carry the wagon down the front porch steps, she walked back to the front door and made sure it was locked before walking towards her car to help Clara put her presents into the trunk.

This wasn’t how she expected to be spending Christmas. If anything, she was planning on spending the week here with her dad and Clara at her childhood home, making new memories and reliving old traditions– the three of them opening their presents together on Christmas morning and watching movies on Christmas Eve.

But life had a crazy way of flipping things upside down a lot of the time, and this was just one more hurdle she had to overcome.

“We don’t need that many groceries, Clara. We’re just here for some quick necessities.”

“You have like, nothing in your fridge, Aunt Tori!” Clara whined, hanging onto the end of the cart. “It’s like you’re trying to starve me.”

Tori laughed, shaking her head as she put a carton of eggs into the cart. “I’m pretty sure you can go a week without the betty crocker cake mix. We’re just here to get some breakfast stuff, cookies for Santa, some carrots for the reindeer and then maybe we can find one of those gingerbread house making kits.”

Clara audibly groaned as she leaned her head back, acting more thirteen than she was near eight. Today was supposed to be the day that the four boys down the hall would help Tori and Clara move into their new two bedroom apartment just a floor above where they were staying now– however, seeing that the apartment wasn’t ready for them to move in just yet, it was instead just an errand day, seeing as Tori had already taken off of work. Leaving her with the responsibility of entertaining Clara for the whole day, especially since groceries was the only errand she could come up with.

It didn’t help that Clara had been spewing off a “what are we gonna do later?” question what felt like every fifteen minutes. What she didn’t want to do was keep Clara inside of the house and sit her in front of the tv all day. She wanted to take her to play in the snow, go sledding, maybe even ice skate– do fun things that she could report back to her second grade class once winter break was over. But aside from the rink and the local spot in her childhood neighborhood, Tori couldn’t think of any place they could go ice skating at, especially seeing as driving to and from her old hometown with holiday traffic wasn’t ideal.

“Aunt Tori, I thought you were fun,” Clara groaned, her tone echoing just the same as they were in the grocery store, only now they were standing in the apartment hall, just in front of her door as she fished for her keys from the depths of her purse.

“I am fun,” Tori huffed, digging her hands and moving around all the non important things she had shoved into the crossbody bag.

“That sounds like something someone boring would say.” Clara replied, leaning her right shoulder against the wall.

“Tori? Boring?” They looked down the hall to see Ryan Hartman walking down the hall. “You must have the wrong Tori, squirt.”

“Hi Ryan, Mason, Jordan and Kirill!” Clara smiled, perking up. “Did you guys do anything fun today?”

“Just practice,” Jordan replied, as the group of four came to a stop. “What about you?”

“Just grocery shopping,” Clara replied, looking at Tori. “Where someone wouldn’t buy the Betty Crocker cake mix.”

“You’ll survive,” Tori replied, moving the plastic bag further onto her arm so she could use two hands. “I just need to find the keys–”

“Here, Tori, let me help,” Kirill said, coming up and grabbing the plastic bags from off of her arm, holding them for her as he smiled and nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Well would you look at that boys,” Mason teased, patting Kirill on the shoulders. “What a gentleman.”

Tori tried not to tuck her chin into her chest too much and hoped that her warm cheeks weren’t turning pink as she nodded at Kirill. “Thanks, Kirill. My arm was killing me.”

She quickly found her keys in her purse and grabbed them, unlocking the front door and motioning for Clara to go inside. “Let them get back to their apartments and nap.”

“Oh great,” Clara sighed dramatically. “Now I get to be more bored and watch tv.”

“No plans?” Jordan asked, as Clara walked into the apartment.

“None that I can think of that aren’t back home. I spend every Christmas back there, I don’t know of anything happening around here.”

Jordan laughed, shaking his head. “Did you completely forget about the family skate they’re doing down at the rink later? The one’s for players and staff?”

Tori blinked, looking at the four of them. “Wasn’t that last week?”

“Try today in about two hours, Tor,” Ryan said. “We’re just grabbing lunch and then heading back.”

“CAN WE GO ICE SKATING AUNT TORI? I WANT TO GO!” Clara said, running back towards the door. “Please, please, please, please–”

“I– do you even know how to skate?”

“I can help!” Kirill chimed in, sheepishly smiling once he realized just how loud his interruption had been. “I don’t mind helping.”

“PLEASE AUNT TORI? PLEASSSEEEEEE–”

“Fine, fine,” Tori laughed, shaking her head as she took the bags from Kirill and playfully pointed at him. “But I’m counting on you not to let her fall if she turns out to be a total bambi.”

“I won’t.”

“Alright, so get ready, we’ll swing by in a few to pick you up and we’ll all head over together,” Ryan said, patting both of Kirill’s shoulders before the four men made their way down the hall to their apartments and Tori walked back into hers.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I can’t wait!” Clara squealed, running back to Tori’s bedroom. “I need to grab some thicker socks!”

Tori just sighed, shaking her head as she locked the door behind her and moved the groceries onto the kitchen island, prepared to unpack them before the boys came back.

It was funny. In all of her time working for the Wild, she’d never actually been to one of the family skates as a participant. Maybe once or twice to fill in and capture some stuff for their social media team– but even that was only just there for a few minutes and then she went back home. But now, now she was actively sitting in the bench surrounded by some of the team and staff’s family who were either choosing not to skate or were caring for little ones who weren’t going onto the ice– while the players and the staff who chose to skate with their family members, were out gliding around on the ice ahead of her.

She was leaning against the edge of the bench arena watching out for Clara as Kirill had stuck to his word and stayed with her to make sure that she wouldn’t fall down and hurt herself. Tori knew that Clara had been skating a few times before, but she wasn’t sure how she would be able to handle being out by herself or her skating abilities at all. And Tori would be lying if she said that watching Kirill holding onto Clara’s hands and skating backwards as he pulled her along, didn’t make her weak in the knees. Being the kindhearted guy she knew he was, he was probably telling her words of encouragement as they moved around the rink and every so often when he would let her hands go, he would be cheering her on to catch up to him.

Kirill has always been the kind, gentle guy he is, since she met him his rookie season. And while she hadn’t originally seen herself falling for the brown eyed boy’s nature…she couldn’t help but do so. Anytime they saw each other at the rink, he’d always make sure to say hi and talk to her. Even if they didn’t cross paths, it seemed like he would actively go out of his way to pass by her and Kaia’s office to say hi. In the interviews she got to run, he was always more than eager to play into whatever she had planned– more so than any of the most playful guys on the team.

Perhaps the one thing that hooked her onto him the most, was when there were home games…he’d always meet her at her office or wait for her in the parking garage to get to her car before driving back to their apartment complex with her– just so he could walk her to her door and say goodnight. He was a gentleman, that was for sure. And Tori has been trying so hard not to let herself fall for him, because he was one of her closest friends.

However, it was proving very, very difficult and the only thing keeping her from totally falling for him, was the realization that he had yet to make a move– the confident, kind, hockey player…hadn’t even done as much as try to hold her hand on their walk out of the elevator and down their hall to their respective apartments.

“Hey Tori,” Kirill said, coming to a stop just next to her on the other side of the ice. “Why not come out and skate, hm?”

“What? Did you lose Clara?” She laughed, trying not to let herself melt into his warm and welcoming eyes.

He laughed, shaking his head before looking out onto the ice for a few seconds and then pointing out across the way. “She left me. She’s a lot better of a skater than she said. Fast learner too.”

“And now you need a skating buddy?”

“Mhhm, so come on, what do you say?” He asked, leaning against the boards and smiling. “What’s Clara do? Oh yeah, please, please, please, please–”

Tori covered his mouth as she laughed and shook her head. “Okay, fine, fine, I’ll skate with you.”

He moved slowly down to the bench gate as Tori awkwardly walked on her rented skates and when she reached the open door, Kirill held out his hand for her to take. The small action actually caused her heart to thump against her chest and she stared at his hand before reaching out and grabbing it, allowing him to take her cold hand into his warm one.

“Do I need to teach you too?” He teased, still holding onto her hand as she balanced on the ice and pushed away from the boards.

“Ha ha, no,” she replied, rolling her eyes and not wanting to drop his hand– but also wanting to prove to him that he was just as good a skater. “You might not know this about me, but I did figure skating growing up.”

His eyes widened as he started to quicken his pace to follow her. “Really?”

“No,” she laughed, looking over her shoulder and smiling at him. “But, we did go ice skating sometimes. So I’ve picked up a few things when I was younger.” She turned herself around, slowly starting to skate backwards as she kept up her pace. “See?”

“You’re the best out here,” he laughed. “How’s Christmas shopping going?”

“I think my dad and I have gotten Clara just about everything she asked for,” she replied, turning herself back around and somehow keeping herself balanced. “The only thing I can’t find is this like, DIY living room tent thing? I don’t know, it’s something she saw on youtube and it’s like a cute tent she can put up with some lights and stuff.”

“Is that what she really wants?” He asked, looking concerned.

Tori nodded, bringing out her phone. “Yeah, she had it highlighted under both her birthday list and Christmas list.” She pulled up safari which opened up the link to the tent, handing him her phone. “I’ve looked at just about every retail store, Amazon, their website…and I guess I keep missing the restocks or something because I’ve had no luck.”

Kirill looked at her phone, and he noticed him scrolling, probably trying to read and look at the product. “Want me to help?”

“No, no that’s okay,” she replied, taking her phone as he handed it back and putting it into her front pocket. “I’m sure they’ll restock it after Christmas and I’ll find a way to grab it then.” 

“Hi Aunt Tori, hi Kirill, look at me!” Clara smiled, skating by them at a faster pace.

“Please be careful!” Tori called out, her plea falling on deaf ears as she slowly turned herself back to skating backwards. “She’s so cocky, I don’t know where she gets it from.”

“No?” Kirill laughed, raising his eyebrows.

“Totally a lie, she gets it from Jess and I. We were best friends, but we always used to compete at who was the best,” she smiled, starting to freely move backwards and getting a little more comfortable. “Jess could never really get the whole skating backwards thing, but me? Nailed it easily. You can tell too, can’t you?

“You could be on the team,” he smiled, staying close as he skated by her side.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, brushing off her shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to take your job–oh!” 

She felt her skate hit a ridge, knocking her off balance and sending her falling backwards to the ice. She fully expected to make contact with the cold ice, even preparing herself for trying not to hit her head…but her body never met the cold ground. She looked up to see Kirill standing there…no, holding her– he’d caught her from hitting the ground.

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at her as he had her in his firm and secure grasp.

Tori nodded, trying her best to laugh it off as if her heart wasn’t racing inside of her chest. “I guess I’m still a little bit rusty.”

“Not too bad,” he smiled, helping her hand back up and then standing in front of her. “But maybe I should help you like I helped Clara, yeah?”

He held out both of his hands and Tori found herself thanking the cold environment for hiding the fact that her cheeks weren’t red from the cold, but from the blushing she had going on. She nodded and reached out, grabbing onto both of his hands and smiled. “Yeah, I could use a lot of it. You won’t let go, right?”

Her last comment was meant to be a little teasing, but deep down inside, she was asking him not to let go of her hands because she enjoyed holding them– feeling the callouses from years of playing hockey against her soft palms.

Kirill shook his head, still smiling. “I won’t let you go.”

Tori never expected she’d have to go into the office while the team was on a two game roadie, but there she was, trudging into the office during a snowfall while Clara tagged along, practically bouncing her way down the halls as she took in the sights of the stadium. The one thing that Tori always loved about kids and hockey, was that it was always as if they were seeing the stadium and the halls and the decorative wallpaper with players and history past and present…for the first time. It was also just so magical to them, which reminded her to never lose that spark for her job.

Kaia had come in earlier, which is why Tori knew she needed to. There was some files that Kaia couldn’t locate on her work computer that had to do with their upcoming plans for interviews after the holidays and Tori knew they were on hers– the only problem was that her computer was in her office– not home with her. It was a simple fix, all she’d need to do was grab her laptop, check the files were on there and email them to Kaia before taking her laptop home with her.

Clara wanted to see everything though, because she’d never seen what Tori’s office was like. No one was there, so Tori let her look around the office and then as they were leaving, they passed one of the equipment managers who had stayed home on the trip and once Tori told him she was giving Clara a tour, he offered to let them take a look around the locker room.

It was nothing but excitement once they walked into the decorated locker room, Tori having been in there once or twice before, but never realizing just how huge it was when there were twenty some guys lounging around. Clara went on the search for the lockers of the four men from down the hall, sitting in each one and asking Tori to take a picture so she could send it to them. And when she did, she was greeted with lots of laughing emojis and a few “is she trying to take my job?” comments.

But once they were on their way home, Tori knew that they could relax for the rest of the day. Maybe order in some chinese and watch whatever it was on tv that Clara wanted to watch– Christmas movies or not. Once they parked, Tori felt her pocket vibrate and pulled out her phone to see she had a text from Barb saying that she had a package up at the front desk.

“Quick detour, Clara, we’ve got to pick something up at the front desk first,” Tori said, putting her phone back into her pocket and taking a left in the parking garage towards the door that would lead into the lobby of the apartment building versus the elevator to take them to their floor.

Barb was sitting at the computer behind the counter and immediately greeted them with a smile once she saw them. “Perfect timing,” she said, coming around the corner of the desk. “This just got dropped off about five minutes ago with the rest of the amazon deliveries.”

“Amazon?” Tori asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “I don’t remember ordering anything…”

“Maybe it’s from Grandpa!” Clara smiled. “A last minute present!”

“Maybe,” Tori said, taking the long box and realizing it did have her name on it. “Hm, we’ll just go upstairs and I’ll open it in my room to see what it is. Thanks again, Barb.”

“Of course, you two have a good rest of your day. Warm up a bit, your noses are red.”

“Bye Mrs. Barb,” Clara waved, now carrying Tori’s computer bag over her shoulder as they made their way towards the elevator, Tori trying not to struggle carrying the long box.

“Are you sureeee I can’t look at it?” Clara smiled as the elevator started to move.

“I’m sure,” Tori replied, smiling back. “It’s too close to your birthday and Christmas for you to open anything.”

Clara huffed as the elevator doors opened and they walked out into the hallway, making their way to the apartment door. Once Tori unlocked the door and nudged it open with her foot, Clara walked inside, resting the computer bag onto the island counter. “I’ll be right here, not looking at my present.”

“You do that,” Tori laughed, closing and locking the door behind her before making her way down the hall to her bedroom and locking that door behind her as well. She placed the box onto the floor and walked into her bathroom, grabbing a pair of scissors she had to trim the candles along her bathtub and walking back into the room, kneeling onto the ground.

She had stopped a majority of her Christmas shopping last week, anything she bought now was just some small stuff she figured that Clara would like that could go into her stocking, so she couldn’t imagine what was in this box, because as far as she knew, she didn’t have anything out for delivery. When she lifted the open edges of the box, her jaw dropped…it was the tent she’d been searching for for weeks– the only thing is…she didn’t order it.

But who did?

She grabbed the box and opened her bedroom door, walking out into the living room where Clara was on the couch. “Alright, I’ll let you open this one present before your birthday. But just this one, got it?”

Clara smiled, jumping off of the couch and running over as Tori put the box down onto the ground. She squealed in excitement once she saw what was in the box, throwing the sides open and reaching in to grab it. “Oh my God, Aunt Tori!!!! It’s the tent!!!!” She smiled, looking up at her. “Can we please clear some space so we can open it? Pretty please, please, please, please?”

“Of course,” Tori laughed, helping her take the box out of the amazon box and smiling. “Just give me a minute and we’ll clear out a space for it.”

She walked over to the island counter, resting the box against it when she saw her phone lit up with a text from Kirill.

Kirill 🐻: I see you got the amazon delivery. Was that the right one?

Her eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder to see Clara still admiring the box the tent came in. SHe walked further into the kitchen and kept her back to Clara as she clicked on his contact and opened up a facetime call. It only rang a few times before he answered it, his smiling face appearing on the screen. “Hey–”

“You bought it? But how did you– where did you–” Tori was speechless.

“I remembered you showing it to me at family skate,” he said, laying down in the hotel bed he was at. “I looked for it and I must’ve been lucky because they restocked it on Amazon that night, so I ordered it and paid for express shipping.”

“Kirill, I…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how to say thank you, but–”

“You don’t need to,” he replied, shaking his head. “I saw you were stressed about it and I wanted to help. I like seeing you happy…Clara too,” he smiled.

Tori smiled, nodding her head. “Thank you so, so much. You just made her birthday I’m sure.” She looked over her shoulder at Clara. “Clara, come say thank you to Kirill for finding the tent.”

Clara ran over and in an instant, appeared right by Tori’s side and into the frame. “Kirill, you’re the best and you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world!” She squealed, jumping up and down.

Kirill laughed, shaking his head. “Can I see the tent when we get back home?”

“Duh!” Clara smiled. “You’ll be the first guest besides Aunt Tori! Unless you guys want to see it together.”

“Go unpack your text,” Tori replied, rolling her eyes and nudging Clara out of the kitchen. “Kirill, I really can’t express how much this means to her…and to me.”

“You don’t need too, just as long as it makes you both happy,” he said, sitting up in the bed. “I need to go now, got to get ready for the bus ride to the arena.”

“Good luck tonight, score a goal or two, hm?” She smiled, wrapping her left around around her waist.

Kirill laughed, nodding his head. “Make it two, one for you one for Clara.” She felt the butterflies liven in her stomach when he said it, still smiling. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Kirill, good luck.”

“WAIT,” he said, appearing back in the frame. “Before I go, I wanted to know if um…” he cleared his throat, appearing a little nervous. “If you wanted to be my date for the Christmas Party…or we can go as friends–”

She felt her heart pound against her chest at the mention of that one word– date. She smiled, nodding her head. “A date will be nice,” she spoke softly.

Kirill lit up, his smile big as he nodded. “Okay, great, I’ll talk to you later then! Bye.”

She hung up the phone call, biting onto her bottom lip as she brought her phone up beneath her chin and tried to stop herself from smiling so big. She couldn’t wrap her mind around just how he had been searching for the tent after she told him how she was really wanting to buy it for Clara since it was the thing she wanted most. He didn’t have to do that…but he did, because he wanted Clara to be happy just as much as she did.

“Aunt Tori, come on,” Clara said, standing up in the living room. “I’ve got it unpacked!”

Tori laughed, nodding her head. “Alright, we’ve got a tent to build.”

She went to put her phone down onto the counter, seeing it light up one more time with a text from Kirill.

Kirill 🐻: Can’t wait! 😊

If it was up to Tori, she would bring Clara along with her to the Wild Christmas Party tonight. Clara was a social girl, she seemed to love Ryan, Kirill, Mason and Jordan, and she knew there was no doubt in her mind that she would also get along with the rest of the players and staff she’d meet at the party. However, the party would go pretty late into the evening and keeping her up that late, even though she was on Christmas break didn’t exactly scream ‘I’m a responsible guardian.’ Even though she remembered all the times on holidays where her parents let her and Jess stay up late (and she thought they were great parents), this was something she was new at and she was too scared to mess it up– even over something so incredibly small.

So, she called up Maddie, her old childhood best friend and college roommate who Clara knows well, seeing as Maddie was close to Jess too, and asked if maybe she’d be able to babysit Clara for a few hours while Tori was just minutes down the road in one of the ballrooms at the St. Paul Hotel.

Once the two had left the arena after her brief stop into the office to check her emails, they went out to breakfast and then went shopping. Any and every store that Clara had wanted to stop in, Tori never said no. She wanted the day to be a good one. One where they stopped at Starbucks and got Clara a lemon loaf and a hot chocolate while she got herself a cake pop and a hot chocolate as well. Sipping and snacking on their drinks while they went to target and they took turns pointing out what they hoped Santa would bring for them– Tori taking pictures whenever Clara wasn’t looking so she knew what she could send an order out for tomorrow and have someone swing by and pick it up when she had the chance.

And when they came home, they sat down at the small kitchen table with their to-go lunches they grabbed from a panera down the street and sat down together to eat. Tori listened while Clara talked about which Christmas movies they should watch. How she relived telling her the play-by-play of the day she, Tori and the boys went ice skating three days prior. And when lunch was over, Clara sat in the living room watching Julie and the Phantoms (again) on Netflix while Tori took a quick shower, getting dressed into some light pajamas before walking out and checking on Clara.

“Everything okay here?” She asked, towel drying her hair. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m good,” Clara replied, looking over at her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna do my hair and put on some make-up,” Tori replied, softly squeezing the water out of the ends of her hair.

Clara perked up on the arm of the couch, a small smile on her face. “Can I help?”

Tori smiled, draping her towel over her arm. “You want to?” Clara nodded, pushing herself up onto her knees and Tori just nodded her over. “Alright, let’s go to my bathroom.”

Clara jumped off of the couch and ran over to her brushing by and going down the short hall before making a left into Tori’s bedroom. Tori just laughed as she followed behind, walking into her bedroom and then going into her conjoining bathroom where Clara was leaning against the sink.

“Once I’m done blow drying my hair, what do you think I should do? Curl it or straighten it?” She asked, grabbing her blow dryer and plugging it into an outlet.

“Hm…” Clara squinted as she focused on her. “Straighten! You already have curly hair.”

“I have waves,” Tori laughed, looking down at Clara. “Your mom got the curls from our mom, your Grandma Clara.”

She spoke before she thought about how mentioning Jess might affect Clara. It was just so natural for the words to come out, she couldn’t help it. She felt guilty when she thought she saw a flicker of sadness wash across Clara’s hazel eyes– her father’s eyes– before she just walked over and sat down on the edge of the tub.

“Can I play music on your phone while you dry your hair?” She asked, kicking her feet. Tori nodded and picked up her phone, handing it to Clara after she synced it with her bluetooth speaker that was set up in her bathroom. “Any requests?”

“Whatever your little Christmas loving heart desires,” Tori smiled, getting ready to turn the blow dryer on before turning back towards Clara, pointing the dryer at her. “Except the hippopotamus song, that’s my ultimate crossing the line song.”

“You’re no fun,” Clara replied, rolling her eyes before looking back down at the phone, her small fingers scrolling up the phone screen in search for a song to play.

Tori had to point out that she had a Christmas playlist on Spotify, ultimately finding it for her and then letting Clara pick whatever songs she wanted to play from the list as she blow dried her hair. The two of them sang along to all of the classics even as Tori switched from blow drying her hair to straightening it.

The both of them burst into song with smiles on their faces once Mariah Carey’s classic, ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ came on, and though the memories of her and Jess doing the very same thing when they were younger flooded her mind, seeing Clara sing her little heart out, belting the notes at the top of her lungs, was enough to wipe away the sad afterthought just long enough for Tori to finish straightening her hair.

“Are you sure about the gold eyeshadow? You don’t think it’s too much?” Tori asked, looking away from her small portable mirror and  turning to face the soon to be eight-year-old.

“I think it brings out your eyes,” Clara replied, swinging her sitting besides Tara on the floor, using the small bathtub carpet to place the make-up she had placed just in front of her to ‘help figure out our options.’ “You guys have pretty eyes…” Clara paused and then looked back down at the make-up containers in front of her. “Had, I guess.”

Tori swallowed the knot in her throat, wanting to comfort the sadness that Clara was feeling, but even her correction into a past tense had been so soft, Tori wandered if acknowledging it was going to be the right thing to do. “Well I think you have the prettiest eyes.”

“They’re alright,” Clara shrugged, picking up a lip pencil. “They’re just brown.”

“They’re hazel,” Tori corrected, putting down the liquid golden eyeshadow after closing the tube. “And even if they were just brown, they’re still beautiful. Brown eyes are like…” she paused, trying not to let herself picture the moment at ice skating when she almost embarrassed herself falling down and Kirill caught her fall. “They’re warm and sometimes when they’re really brown, they’ve got this depth in them…like that person’s got all of the secrets in the world hidden behind their eyes. And when the light catches them? Magical. It’s like they can change a multitude of shades and–”

Clara was smiling, catching Tori off guard. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you have a crussshhhhh,” Clara sang, handing Tori the pencil. “And it’s on Kirilllllll.”

“I do not,” Tori scoffed, taking the pencil and looking at the shade before uncapping it, shaking her head. “I do not, nope.”

“Yes you do,” Clara giggled, sitting up from her butt and onto the backs of her heels. “And you know how I know? Because he has brown eyes and you went all,” she fluttered her eyelashes and smiled, cupping her hands beneath her face as if she was playing a lovesick girl in a movie. “When talking about brown eyes.”

Tori laughed, turning her focus back to the mirror to apply her lip liner. “Just because he has brown eyes and I romanticized them to make YOU feel better, doesn’t mean I have a crush on Kirill. Now find me a shade of lipstick, my little make-up guru.”

Ever like her mother, Clara rolled her eyes at Tori’s playoff of the all too real situation that she’d brought up. But crushing on the guy just down the hall wasn’t really something she wanted her niece to call her out on. It was bad enough that it had been something Jess had picked up on last year when she and Steven had a date night to a game and met her afterwards.

And it didn’t help that Tori had always been the kind of girl who let the smallest of moments and things turn into the biggest when it came to love and things like it. Thoughts always spent a little extra time in her head and her brain would spin them and turn them into special butterfly inducing memories until her feelings were almost as big as the heart her mom always told her she had and one that “anyone would be lucky to have love them.” The absolute last thing that she needed was for her brain to spin the small moments, big moments, and every funny tik tok, simple text or wave from Kirill, into something butterfly inducing. The absolute, very, very, VERY last thing she needed…was to have feelings for the kindhearted, brown-eyed boy down the hall.

Or, you know, that she needed to acknowledge them. Because she knew deep down that there were feelings there for him, small or large she didn’t know. She didn’t want to allow herself to feel those, when she wasn’t even sure about whether or not him having similar feelings for her were possible.

“Aunt Tori,” Clara said, waving the lipstick in front of her face. “How’s this shade?”

Tori cleared her throat, removing herself from her inner thoughts before looking at the perfect match of a shade of red lipstick and smiling. “It’s perfect. I should just have you do my make-up from now on, that way I can sit back and relax while you do all the work.”

“Only if you boost my allowance up to $10,” she said, standing up and brushing off her pants.

“Only if you actually do your chores,” Tori replied, carefully applying her lipstick onto her top lip before blotting it with the bottom.

Clara extended her hand out, nodding. “Deal.”

Tori laughed and shook her hand before returning back to applying her lipstick, Clara coming over with a folded up piece of toilet paper before she even had to ask. “Do you just watch those beauty youtubers all the time?”

“Mainly tiktok, but sometimes I watch youtube. I’m gonna go get a snack.”

“Okay, I’ll be out there in a bit,” she replied, capping her lipstick and blotting using the toilet paper. She collected the makeup from beside her and put it all back into the storage where it belonged before standing up and putting her make-up all back onto her bathroom counter.

She took a step back from the counter, moving her hair off of her shoulders and towards her back as she took in the job that she and Clara had done together. She was still getting used to the way her curtain bangs were framing her face, knowing that Jess would be right over her shoulder and telling her that she knew she’d second guess getting the hairstyle. That was the thing though, she wasn’t sure if she did second guess getting it…she just liked the idea of being able to hear her older sister tease her in the back of her mind.

Besides, Clara, her dad and Kirill said that they liked her hair. Though perhaps Kirill’s approval was right up there with Clara’s– almost a close second.

Tori turned off the bathroom light and walked into her bedroom, going over to her walk-in closet and opening the door, not even needing to turn on the light to know where her dress for tonight was at. She’d hung it just next to the door the moment after she’d washed it…the same day she bought it. She’s been excited to wear it from the moment she saw it on a random shopping trip during her lunch break with Kaia. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was a dress that when she jokingly tried it on…she felt different in it.

She imagined, as she stood there in that dressing room with the lights illuminating her closed stall, that this feeling…whatever it was, was what her mom had talked about when she and Jess were growing up. That one day, when they were engaged and wedding dress shopping, that it would be nothing like shopping for homecoming dresses or prom dresses was going to be. That the dress, would make them feel like they were the most beautiful person in the room. Her mom was right, she and Jess never felt that way shopping for their homecoming or prom dresses– but she knew Jess had felt that moment the day she, after trying on what felt like every dress in the bridal shop, tried on the dress she would wear when she walked down the aisle to Steve.

Granted, Tori hadn’t bought her dress while preparing for her wedding, but the way she suddenly saw herself in a different light as the deep green, sparkly velvet material hugged her body as if it were made just for her. Feeling the soft material cut in an A-line on her chest and flare out into a skater dress just at her mid thigh, she stood there so long in that dressing room admiring the way the dress looked, that Kaia had knocked on the door saying “the dress can’t be that bad.”

And it wasn’t, because the moment Tori walked out of the dressing room, Kaia told her to turn right back around and change because, “you are so buying that dress.”

She grabbed the hanger, bringing the dress out of her closet and then walking towards her bed as she laid it down on top of her comforter. She changed out of her sweatpants and tank top and grabbed the dress, sliding the material off of it’s hanger and stepping into the dress, the material hugging against her body, feeling the velvet against the palms of her hands as she rubbed her hands down the stress, flattening out any wrinkles. Also in her closet, were the shoes she was going to wear tonight as well.

“What, Clara?” She called out, swearing she heard Clara’s voice. She bent down and quickly slid on each heel before making her way out of her bedroom and down the short hallway, eventually coming into her shared living and dining rooms.

“I said, Maddie’s here,” Clara replied, walking over towards the couch and sitting down next to Maddie.

“You answered the door?” Tori asked, eyes wide as she walked over to the small island counter where she had set down the purse she was going to use tonight, was. “I know for a fact that you were taught not to answer the door–”

“For strangers,” Clara replied, shrugging. “I got a chair and looked through the peephole to see who it was. Maddie’s not a stranger, so I answered it.”

Tori sighed, shaking her head. “Okay, technically she’s not a stranger, but you should’ve come back and told me that Maddie was here before opening the door. For all you know she could be on one of her crazy trips and rob us blind.”

Maddie rolled her eyes as she sipped on her Starbucks refresher. “Ha ha, very funny. Mind you, I’m here aren’t I?”

“Yes and thank you for that,” Tori replied, grabbing her small clutch and making sure she had transferred everything over that she’d need for tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, what are besties for, now come over here so we can see the final look.” Maddie said, waving her over. “Full on fashion show like the ones we used to do in fifth grade.”

This time, Tori rolled her eyes as she put the clutch back down onto the island and walked into the living room. “Do I really–”

Maddie held her hand up, shaking her head. “I said, fashion show. So strut.”

Clara laughed, sitting up on her knees in excitement as they both had their eyes on Tori, who was giving into the demands and like when she was a kid, put on her best “supermodel” runway walk and walked into the living room, doing a twirl and then playfully flipping her hair over her shoulder before stopping in front of them and sighing, shrugging her arms. “So? Thoughts?”

Maddie looked at Clara and then leaned over, cupping her ear and whispering as Clara shook her head and then nodded, her face going through a whole slew of emotions before finally nodding again. Maddie sat up straight and the two looked at each other before Clara looked back at Tori and smiled. 

“We think you look hot.”

Tori laughed, throwing her head back just barely as she shook her head. “Well thank you, but hot should not be in your vocabulary yet. Wait until you’re like…I don’t know, 18.”

“18?! But that’s forever!” Clara whined, falling back against the couch. “14.”

A knock on the door interrupted what Tori was going to say as she pointed at Clara. “We’ll talk about it later.” She walked towards the door, already knowing who was going to be on the other side since this was about the time that they agreed in their group chat to meet up so they could all travel to the party together.

“Hey guy…oh, hi” she expected to see Ryan, Kirill, Mason and Jordan, along with three of their dates she knew were tagging along. But instead…it was only Kirill standing at her front door, dressed very nice in a black suit that had gold trim, along with a dark gray shirt underneath. 

And he was wearing the hell out of the suit.

“Hi,” he spoke, clearing his throat soon after as he pointed his thumb down the hall. “The guys sent me here. We’re ready to go, are you?”

“I am,” she nodded, trying not to focus on the way she could see his eyes taking in her dress. “I just um,” she looked over her shoulder. “Need to grab my purse…come on in.”

“Thanks,” he nodded, sucking in his lips as he kept his hands in his pockets and walked into her apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Hi Kirill!” Clara said, standing up from the couch and walking over. “What’s with the funny suit?”

Kirill smiled as he held out his fist for her to bump. “Funny suit?”

Clara giggled as she shook her head. “You’re just really dressed up! I only ever see you wearing jeans and stuff.”

“Oh,” he replied, looking a little embarrassed as Tori turned around. “A Christmas party. I’m picking up Tori.”

“Mhhm and now we’re getting ready to leave, so please be on your best behavior for Maddie,” Tori said, draping the chain of her clutch purse over her shoulder and pointing to Maddie. “And no obscene amount of sugar after eight.”

“No fun,” Maddie replied, waving at Kirill. “Hey Kirill, take care of our girl tonight please. No shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans?” He asked, looking at Tori, his cheeks tinting pink as he looked for a translation.

“No pranks, practical jokes,” Tori replied, shaking her head. “Ignore her.” She turned back towards Clara bending down to her level and holding out her pinky finger. “Promise to be on your best behavior?”

“You’re leaving?” Clara asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked between Tori and Kirill.

Tori nodded, adjusting her clutch chain, going to kiss the top of Clara’s head. “Just down the street to the team Christmas party. I promise I’ll be back–”

“No!” Clara yelled, backing herself away from the affectionate moment.

The three adults stood there in shock at the way the personable and bubbly, but often quiet, Clara raised her voice so defiantly.

“No, you can’t go!” Tori could see the way Clara’s face began to crumble and knew she was only moments away from crying. “If you go, you won’t come back! My mommy and daddy didn’t!”

Tori stepped towards Clara, ready to comfort the now crying child. “Clara–” Just as she went to get down to her level, Clara spun around on her heels and ran back towards the only bedroom of the apartment– Tori’s– slamming the door shut behind her.

The silence was loud and heavy as she stared down the hall, the most outrageous part expecting her for Clara to come back out laughing– that it was all a joke. But the big part of her, the one that knew Clara was genuinely upset, scared even…that part tugged at her heart, causing an ache so deep that it didn’t take her a second to turn around to face Kirill.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke, shaking her head as she took her clutch off of her shoulder. “I can’t go tonight. I can’t–” she looked back over her shoulder, shaking her head as she looked back at him. “I can’t leave her like this.

She couldn’t tell what exactly it was that he was feeling– confused at what went down, sad that she was bailing, concerned for Clara or maybe even a little scared at the outburst– but like he always did, he put on that small, comforting smile that always gave her the biggest of butterflies, and nodded his head.

“I’ll let the guys know.” He walked back to her door, opening it as she followed behind him. He turned back around, his eyes looking just past her and over her shoulder. “Tell Clara I hope she’s okay.”

Tori leaned against the door, nodding. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Again, I’m sorry. I know–”

“It’s okay, Tori.” He replied, still smiling as she rocked back on his heels. “See you later.”

She waved as she watched him walk back down the hall towards his room most likely to grab the rest of their group before looking back into her apartment and sighing, nodding at Maddie. “You should probably go too.”

Maddie nodded, getting up off of the couch and collecting her things off of the island counter before coming over to Tori, not hesitating a single moment before wrapping her arms around her and hugging her. “It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t–” Tori paused, as Maddie pulled back and she looked down the hallway. “I should’ve known she’d get upset and I didn’t think about that.” She took a deep breath, exhaling as she looked back at Maddie, feeling the tears burn in her eyes. “Jess would’ve known what to do. She would’ve known–”

“Hey, don’t get down on yourself, Tor,” Maddie said, holding onto Tori’s arms. “This…all of this is new to you, but you’ve done a hell of a job so far. No one expects you to be perfect, okay? You had one slip up and even then…you’re doing your damndest. You’re canceling your plans to make sure that Clara is okay.”

Maddie reached up and cupped her face, gaining her attention as she looked into her eyes. “You’re trying, Tori. You’re trying and you’re learning…and that’s all Jess and Steven both would have wanted.”

Tori nodded, hugging Maddie again before pulling away. “Thank you.”

“You know I’ll always be here for you,” she smiled, walking out of her apartment door. “And send me that receipt for your Target order, I’ll swing by and pick it up tomorrow. Love you Tor.”

“Love you too, Mads,” Tori replied, waiting until she saw Maddie get into the elevator before closing and locking her apartment door for the night.

She took a few deep breaths as she took off her shoes and placed her purse back onto the counter before making her way back down the hall, coming to a stop in front of her bedroom door. She raised her fist, holding it there for a few spare moments before knocking on the door. “Clara?”

Tori pressed her ear against the door, hearing her fan on the other side of the door blowing, but not a peep from Clara. She knocked again, keeping her ear against the door. “Clara, can you come out please? Or let me in?”

Still silence and Tori was starting to feel defeated as she exhaled and let her body fully lean against the door. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the party. I…I didn’t even think about,” she paused, unsure of how to say the idea that maybe Clara would have some kind of reservations about Tori going to a party, without making it seem as if she wasn’t considering her feelings. “I’m sorry that I made you upset, that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

“I sent Maddie and Kirill home, so it’s just gonna be me and you tonight.” She crossed her arms, focusing on the sounds from the other side of the door. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of hungry…so I think I’m gonna order a pizza. If you want some, just let me know.”

The one thing that she learned between her Dad and Clara’s therapist, was that she needed to let Clara come to terms with things on her own time. Not to force her to talk about it before she was ready or ignore it when the time came. If she had questions, then it was okay to answer them until Clara either started to look uncomfortable or stop asking questions altogether. So that’s what she was going to do, she held out her olive branch of a pizza offering and was going to sit in the living room and wait until Clara hopefully would leave the room and join her.

Tori had ordered the pizza on her phone and sat down onto the couch, leaning back into the warm material as she stared at the “are you still watching?” Netflix screen. It was only a few minutes after she placed the order for pizza when she heard her bedroom door open from down the hall, Clara appearing at the end of the hall a couple of seconds later.

“You still want to watch Julie and the Phantoms?” Tori asked, nodding towards the tv screen.

Clara nodded, keeping quiet as she slowly made her way over to the couch and sat down right beside Tori, immediately curling herself up against her side. “Why didn’t you go to the Christmas party?”

Tori shrugged, reaching up and brushing Clara’s hair back as she continued to play the show. “You were upset and I didn’t want to leave you behind,” she replied, looking down at her. “Besides, hanging out with you is a lot more fun than going to a fancy Christmas party.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Clara spoke softly, resting her head against Tori’s chest. “I just–”

“Sh, you don’t have to apologize, Clara,” Tori replied, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “I know.”

They sat there for a relaxed moment before Clara looked up at Tori, pouting. “But now you’re all dressed up and pretty…”

Tori smiled, sitting up straight. “How about we change over into some pj’s, then I can do your hair and make-up and after that, we’ll clean it all up and have a spa night like your mom and I used to have with our mom?”

Clara perked up and nodded, a smile on her face. “Okay!” She scrambled off of the couch and headed towards the hall. “Face masks too?”

“Of course,” Tori scoffed, standing up off of the couch and following behind her, holding onto the hand Clara had outstretched towards her. “We’ll go all out, I promise.”

And they did.

After changing into some comfortable pajamas, Tori rounded up all of the spa stuff she had available in her bathroom and they walked back out into living room area with spa and make-up stuff in hand. Just like when Clara was helping Tori get ready, she had picked out all of the colors she wanted to wear, and Tori would apply it. She opted for having her hair curled and once it came down to make-up. And to no surprise, Clara had handed Tori the golden eyeshadow she had picked out for her earlier in the evening, when Tori had asked what eyeshadow she wanted.

“With as knowledgeable as you are about make-up, I give it until you’re 12 to be better at it than me,” Tori joked, carefully applying the finishing touches on the eyeshadow. “I was never this good at make-up, I only learned a little in high school and then a little more in college.”

Clara kept her eyes closed as Tori shut the eyeshadow pallet and then grabbed the eyeliner. “I like watching youtube and tik toks,” she said, sitting still as Tori began applying the eyeliner. “Plus I really liked watching my mom do her make-up, she looked really pretty.”

Tori smiled softly, nodding her head even though Clara couldn’t see. “Your mom was always very pretty.”

Silence settled over as Tori carefully applied the eyeliner to Clara’s top lid before having her open her eyes so she could apply it to the waterline. Words were none even as she put the eyeliner down and then grabbed the mascara, even more carefully applying it so she didn’t accidentally poke Clara in the eye.

“All right, you’re all done,” she smiled, putting the mascara tube down and grabbing the make-up mirror that she’d brought out from the bathroom and held it in front of Clara. “What do you think?”

Clara scooted closer to the mirror, turning her face side to side as she even played with the curls of her chestnut colored hair. “Do I look like my mom?” She asked, looking up at Tori with a softened expression.

“I–“ a knock on the door interrupted Tori’s reply, signaling that hopefully the pizza was here. “That must be the pizza.”

Tori got up off of the floor and walked over to the front door, peeping through the peephole and seeing the pizza delivery man. She opened the door, making small conversation as she was handed the receipt to sign before finally wishing the delivery man a good night and taking the pizza, closing the door behind her and walking into the kitchen as Clara walked in. They grabbed some plates and each put two slices of pizza and a cheesy breadstick onto their plate before Clara took their plates into the living room while Tori grabbed them each a cup of water to drink.

When they settled back into the living room and sat on the floor, Tori noticed the small silence that was still there as Clara started to eat her pizza and focus on the Hannah Montana episode that was playing on Disney+. She knew it was most likely because she’d never gotten the answer to her question since the pizza had been delivered and so Tori put her pizza back down onto her plate and turned towards Clara.

“You do look like your mom,” she said, watching as her response took a few seconds before it sunk into Clara’s focus that she had said something.

“I do?” Clara asked, her bite of pizza still in her mouth as she quickly chewed it and swallowed. “Or are you just saying that?”

“No, you do,” Tori smiled, nodding her head. “You have her hair, especially now with the curls–“

“But we curled it…”

“Your mom’s hair didn’t get curlier until she was 14, before that, her hair was straight just like yours. You have her nose and her cheeks,” she smiled, scooting closer to Clara. “You have your dad’s eyes and his dimple, but your smile,” she reached out and gently poked right by the outside corner of Clara’s left eye. “You definitely have your mom’s smile, it reaches up into your eyes.”

Clara smiled and just like she said, for a moment, Tori could see a glimpse of Jess just in her smile alone. “Thanks Aunt Tori.” She sighed, picking her pizza up again. “I’m sorry for ruining your date with Kirill.”

Tori laughed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t really a date…I was just his date to the party is all. And besides,” she nudged Clara, smiling. “I think we’re having more fun doing this than I would at a party.”

“Even if it meant you couldn’t go on your date?” She frowned.

Tori nodded. “Even if it meant missing out on tonight. Besides, if Kirill has a problem with me canceling so I can spend more time with you, then he’s not worth it.” She picked up her pizza and looked at Clara. “Boys will come and go Clara, but family is forever.”

Clara smiled and picked her pizza back up to eat and Tori joined in, sneaking a glimpse at her phone to see that she still didn’t have any messages from Kirill. It’s not like she was expecting him to text her throughout the night, because it was, after all, a team Christmas party…but she was also hoping that her hypothetical ‘if he has a problem’ scenario wasn’t real. Because a big part of her, though she would deny it if asked, did care for Kirill.

And she hoped he felt the same way.

It’d been maybe an hour and a half into their night, the make-up was all washed away and the two of them were lounging on the couch in their face masks, complete with some chopped up cucumbers to snack on as they watched The Polar Express, one of their favorite Christmas movies they watched as kids. If it wasn’t so late, Tori might have suggested the two of them bundle up into a jacket and boots and wander down the street to get some ice cream. But, since tomorrow was their birthday, she figured that could be something she treated Clara to during the day.

Because right now, Clara was close to being ready to fall asleep and a sugar rush would only keep her up for a little bit longer.

“Who’s that?” Clara asked, looking towards the front door following the soft knock they heard. “Is Maddie coming back?”

“I’m not sure,” Tori said, getting up off of the couch and keeping her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She walked over to the door, looking through the peephole and immediately stepping away. “Shit.”

“What? Who is it?”

“It’s Kirill,” she replied, reaching up and touching her dried clay mask. “And my face is completely purple…”

Clara jumped off of the couch and ran by Tori, nudging her out of the way and unlocking the door locks before swinging the door open. “Hi Kirill! Come in!”

“Hi,” he laughed, going along as Clara grabbed onto his coat jacket and tried to tug him in as best as she could. “What are…” he paused and looked between both girls as Clara shut the door. “What’s on your faces?”

“Face masks to help us look young,” Clara chimed in, pointing at the plastic bags he was carrying. “Whatcha got there?”

He looked down at the plastic bag and then held it up. “I brought ice cream.”

“But,” Tori paused, seeing that he was still dressed up in his suit. “What about the party? It doesn’t end for another two and a half hours.”

Kirill smiled and shrugged. “It wasn’t fun and Ryan said he’d tell everyone I wasn’t feeling good.”

“Does this mean we can have ice cream, Aunt Tori?” Clara gasped, turning towards her and grabbing onto her hand, pouting. “It’d make me feel so much better! Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty pleasseeeeee?”

“Yeah Tori, pretty please?” Kirill laughed, looking at her.

More than anything, she just wanted to wash the clay mask off of her face, even though it was looking like Kirill didn’t care that she was wearing it. “Okay,” she nodded, holding her blanket tighter. “We can have ice cream. We’ll just go wipe this stuff off our faces real quick and then–”

“No need!” Clara ran around the counter into the kitchen and grabbed the small stool Tori had for her, moving it in front of the sink and then turning the water on, vigorously rubbing her face with the water until the face mask was off.

Tori just sighed, grabbing a paper towel and ripping it, handing it to Clara. “Wipe around, you’ve got some flakes leftover.” She looked at Kirill and nodded. “I’ll be back.”

She swiftly made her way down the hall to her bedroom, walking in and going to the bathroom to wash the face mask off her face. She tried not to let her racing heart make her nervous at the fact that Kirill had left his own team’s Christmas party hours earlier, just to come by her apartment to make sure that they were okay. And he even brought ice cream. Those were two wins in her book and if she were to text Maddie and Kaia, no doubt in her mind that they would tease her and say that he’s definitely got feelings for her.

But she didn’t want that disappointment, because maybe he was just a friendly guy.

When she wiped her face dry, she walked back out and down the hall, seeing Kirill still standing at the counter, only now he was holding an ice cream scooper in his hand and looking at Clara for approval as he dropped a second scoop into the bowl. “Good?”

“Mm, one more.”

“No, two is good,” Tori laughed, shaking her head. “You need to sleep at some point tonight, because tomorrow is a big day.”

“Our birthday!” Clara smiled, looking at Kirill. “Are you guys coming to my party? It’s just Aunt Tori, Maddie and me right now.”

Kirill laughed as he handed over the bowl of ice cream. “I would love to come.”

“Sweet,” Clara smiled, grabbing her bowl before giving him a hug. “Thanks Kirill, you’re the best.”

She ran off before he could reply and Tori walked over, taking her place at the end of the island. “This was really nice of you to do,” she said, leaning against the counter. “I thought my spa night and pizza was good, but you really took the cake with this ice cream.”

“Took the cake?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed as he dropped a scoop of ice cream into her bowl.

“It means you won,” she smiled, nodding at the ice cream. “Plus, it’s like you have a radar in your head and knew I was craving something sweet.”

Kirill smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I know you.”

It was a good day– a day to be celebrated in many ways.

It was Christmas Eve and then it was both Clara and Tori’s birthday. A bittersweet day, but also one that needed much celebration in it’s own right. When she woke up this morning, Clara was still fast asleep in the bed beside her, so Tori took the chance to get up and make a phone call to her dad– hoping it wasn’t too early in the morning for him.

The first thing he’d said when she answered, was wishing her and Clara both a happy birthday. And after the polite conversation and questions about how they were doing had come and gone, Tori had asked him the most important question for the day– “how did you do it?”

“How did I do what, Tori?”

“How did you make that first birthday after mom died, so special?”

There was silence on the phone before her dad sighed. “Well, I didn’t shy away from the topic if you wanted to talk about your mom. We did a lot of talking about her and past birthdays. We kept up with those traditions, and just made sure to include mom as much as we could.”

Tori was biting her long sleeve as she stared at the Christmas tree. “I’m just nervous I’ll ruin it,” she whispered, feeling the tears burn in her eyes. “You made that birthday and every one after that so special, even when deep down I was missing mom so much. I– I want to do that for Clara, I don’t want Jess and Steven’s death to overshadow her and make her hate her birthdays every year.”

“As long as you just talk about Jess and Steven when she wants to and you validate those feelings she has, you won’t ruin it, Tori. She loves you and you’ve got a way of making everyone feel special, especially on their birthdays. Just do things you’ll think she’ll enjoy or if she asks to do something, do that too.”

It was her dad’s advice that made her feel a lot less nervous going into the day. First up on the day, she’d made Clara a special breakfast– chocolate chip pancakes complete with whipped cream and some cut up strawberries– a birthday breakfast that their mom had made Tori and Jess every year on their birthday since they could remember. And it was a tradition that Tori knew Jess had kept up with, because when Clara finally woke up and joined her out in the living room, her eyes lit up when she saw the pancakes on the kitchen island– even if the smile wasn’t there.

Tori didn’t remember much about that first birthday without her mom, part of her thinks she probably blocked it out because it was too sad to think about, but watching Clara go through it, she probably experienced the same thing. The sniffles and tears while eating her breakfast, the smile on her face but one that didn’t reach her eyes as she opened the gift Tori’s dad had gotten her. The apologizing for feeling sad and the “it’s okay,” from Tori when she had apologized.

It felt like uncharted territory, even though she’d been in it before. The only thing that had even boosted her mood just a little bit, was when the four boys from down the hall stopped by to wish them both a happy birthday, even giving her some presents.

Kirill’s was the only one that Clara was actually interested in– maybe it was because it was from him or maybe because it was the only one that wasn’t personally signed Minnesota Wild merchandise. It was a Polly Pocket set, one that Tori wasn’t sure whether or not he just saw in a store and thought that she’d like it or if it was something he knew that she wanted. At least not until before they left, Tori had asked him how he knew what to get her and he said– “we're best friends, duh. She said she liked Polly Pockets, so I just went to the store and asked someone for help.”

Once the boys left, they just hung around the apartment, watching whatever Clara wanted to watch. It wasn’t until she started to feel a little antsy that Tori had asked what was wrong. Clara looked at her, a sad look on her face as she played with her hands and said, “I want to go see mommy and daddy…if that’s okay.”

Visiting the cemetery back in her hometown wasn’t exactly what Tori had on the birthday card for today, but she remembered what her dad said about being open to whatever Clara wanted to do and agreed. They had gotten dressed and left the apartment complex, getting to the garage and getting into her car before setting out for the drive back to Saint Paul. Christmas songs were on the radio, but that was the only sound in the car on their drive, especially once they neared the cemetery where her mom, Jess and Steven were all buried in the same section, but only plots away from each other.

They’d stopped at the store, buying some flowers before reaching the cemetery and once they parked off to the side, they got out and walked through the snow, trying their best to find the headstones. They’d found her mom’s first and Tori bent down and wiped off a few extra whisps of snow before placing the red poinsettias into the flowerpot. It wasn’t the first time since her mom had died that Tori had come to the cemetery, but each time was just as emotional as the first time after the funeral.

“Aunt Tori, can I go find mommy and daddy?” Clara asked, pointing just head. “I think they’re eight up.”

“Okay, just stay in view.” Tori nodded, watching as Clara walked just ahead in front of her. She took a deep breath and sighed, staring down at her mom’s engraved name. “I know you told us that even if you weren’t here anymore that you’d always be around…but I really hope that’s true because I feel like I’m out of my league.”

“I hope you’re with Jess and Steven up there, and I hope you guys are looking down at us and show up in times we need you. Dad’s doing good, Clara’s doing as good as you can expect her to…and I think I’m doing okay,” she replied, wiping her running nose. “You and Jess would be glad to know that I finally might’ve found someone I really like, though I’m not sure if the feelings are mutual. And I think you would’ve liked him, his name’s Kirill and he plays for the Wild. Jess has met him and she liked him, so I’m sure she’s told you all about him. He’s everything you always told us we deserved and needed to find in someone, one day.”

Tori laughed, shaking her head. “And honestly, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if you somehow sent him to me.” She looked up to see that Clara was squatting down towards the ground and knew she’d found where Jess and Steven were. “I miss you a lot, mom and I wish you were here all the time, but I know you are just like you said you would be. I love you and I’ll visit again soon, hug Jess and Steven for me.”

Tori quickly wiped her face and calmed herself down before walking away from her mom’s headstone and taking the short walk up to where Clara was at, not getting to close as to not want to interrupt Clara, wanting to give her privacy. When she stood up, Tori walked over and stood next to her, draping her arm over her shoulder. “You okay, Clara?”

Clara sniffled, wiping at her face and shaking her head. “I miss them,” she sobbed. “It’s not fair.”

Tori squatted down to her level and wrapped her in her arms, hugging her as she tried not to cry herself. “I know, I know,” she whispered, cupping the back of her head before leaning back. “But you know what my mom always told your mommy and I when we were little and she got really sick?”

Clara shook her head, sniffling again as she wiped at her nose. “No.”

“She told us, that even if she wasn’t here physically where we could see her and hug her,” she said, reaching up and wiping away the tear stains on Clara’s cheeks. “That she would always be right here in our hearts,” she reached down and patted Clara’s heart. “And that she would never, ever leave there.”

“Can I talk to her there too?” Clara asked, wiping at her face again.

“Always,” Tori whispered, holding onto Clara’s arms. “I was going to wait until tonight to give you this, but I think now might be better.”

“What is it?”

Tori reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out the small red gift box and lifting the lid and the small tissue paper from over it, revealing a small silver locket. “When you were born, your daddy bought this for your mommy. It says, ‘home is where the heart is’ on the front and on the back, it’s got all three of your guys initials,” Tori smiled, showing Clara both sides before opening the locket. “And then inside, they added this picture of the three of you smiling in the hospital room. See? There you are right there in your mommy’s arms.”

Clara leaned down, looking at the locket before looking up at Tori. “I was so small.”

“You were a few hours old,” Tori smiled, pointing to the empty side. “And then right here, if you want…we can add a picture of the three of you from that family photo session we all did together, yeah?”

“Yes please,” she nodded, wiping at her nose. “Can you put it on me?”

Tori nodded, taking the locket out of the box. “I figured you were old enough to have this now, that way you’ll always have your mommy and daddy to look at when you get a little sad and I’m not there to comfort you.”

Once she put the locket around her neck, Tori let it rest against her chest and Clara reached down and held it into her palm with a small smile before looking up at Tori. “I love it Aunt Tori and I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo,” she smiled, hugging her again, this time just a little tighter.

It was hard trying to decipher whether or not Clara’s trembling lips and body were from her crying or from the harsh cold winter air. So they said one last goodbye to Jess and Steven, Tori saying her own goodbye in her head before they made their way back to their car, staying close to each other and holding hands. When they got back into the car, Tori turned around to make sure Clara was settled before offering her a small smile.

“How about we got get some hot chocolate from the cafe your grandma Clara used to always take your mom and I to when we were kids and we’ll talk about your mom and dad?” Tori suggested, unsure of how Clara would respond.

She sniffled again, wiping at her nose. “Do they have cake pops? Daddy loved cake pops.”

“They do,” Tori laughed, nodding her head. “We’ll get a cake pop too.”

They spent hours in that cafe, ordering hot chocolates and cake pops, nursing them as Tori told stories of Jess when they were younger and answered any questions about her mom and dad that Clara had. By the time it was time for them to start driving home so they could meet Maddie at the apartment for the small dinner and cake they were going to do for Clara, Clara was smiling for the first time that entire day– genuinely smiling.

It wasn’t until they got in the car that Tori saw she had a missed call from Kirill and a voicemail. And when she listened to it first, she smiled. “Kirill called, did you want to hear what he had to say?” She asked, looking over at Clara.

“Yes please!!!” Clara nodded, sitting eagerly in her car seat.

“Hey Tori, I just realized that I forgot to do something when I swung by earlier. I know it’s Clara’s birthday, so I wanted to wish her a happy birthday again and this time, do it the way we always did growing up.” He said something in his native Russian, probably something along the lines of happy birthday and then, the part that made Tori smile, he started to sing the simple tune of happy birthday– still in his native language.

“THAT WAS SO COOL!” Clara smiled, eyes wide. “Next time I see him I’m gonna ask him to teach me russian!”

Tori laughed, putting her phone down and starting her car. The only thing Clara didn’t know was that Tori had ended the voicemail seconds before he went on to say what he did after.

“I know it’s your birthday too, so I wanted to say happy birthday and I’m very happy I met you. You’re doing a great job, Tor.” And then he said something else in russian before translating it for her. “I am the happiest man on earth because I met you, bye.”

She didn’t need Clara teasing her until she was red in the face, but also, she knew that she would never get his voice out of her head– constantly replaying the compliment on their drive home.

The day had come and gone, the sun was set and all around Minnesota, Tori was sure parents had their kids all tucked into bed. But in their small bedroom apartment, Tori, Maddie and Clara were watching ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ like all the Christmas Eve’s before, snacking on some of the leftover cookies they’d made for Santa and just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Did you have a good birthday, kiddo?” Maddie asked, looking over Tori as Clara sat down on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket Maddie had gotten her that was a picture of Clara, Jess and Steven together from last Christmas.

“Yeah, one of the best,” Clara smiled, looking over her shoulder at them. “Thank you guys a lot.”

“You’re welcome, Clara,” Tori smiled, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch. “I’m glad you had a good day.”

“I feel bad though,” Clara frowned, holding the blanket around her. “It’s your birthday too, Aunt Tori and you didn’t get a cake to make a wish or anything.”

Tori smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s okay, I got what I wanted and that was for you to have a good day. I know how hard those firsts can be when you lose someone important to you and all I wanted was to do for you what Grandpa did for me and your mom when we were younger. To make sure you could still have a good day, even if you were a little sad.”

Clara got up and walked over to the couch, leaning over and giving Tori a hug. “I love you Aunt Tori, you’re the best ever.”

“I love you too, Clara,” Tori replied, rubbing her back as she held onto the hug.

A knock on the door interrupted the hug and Clara jumped back, handing her blanket off to Tori. “I’ll get it!”

“What did we say about answering doors?” Tori laughed, holding the blanket in her lap.

“Yeah, Clara,” Maddie smiled, looking at Tori. “I wonder who that could be.”

Tori folded the blanket the best she could before getting up off of the couch, just as Clara opened the door. “GRANDPA!!!!!” Clara squealed, being lifted up moments after as Tori’s dad walked into the apartment, closing the door behind her.

“Dad?” Tori asked, eyes widening. “What are you doing here? I thought you were back with Grandma?”

“Oh no, she got tired of me hovering,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Her surgery went successful and she maybe lasted two days of me staying with her in her little apartment before she told me I needed to come home and be here with you guys. She’s got some good staff looking after her and I told her I’d be on the first flight out if she ever needed anything.”

Tori walked over with a smile, hugging him with one arm as he held Clara. “It’s good to have you here, we missed you.”

“I missed you guys too,” he said, kissing them each on the temple. “And happy birthday to you both. Hi Maddie.”

“Hi Mr. Holly, I’m glad you’re here,” she smiled, sitting up on the couch. “Though you’re not quite who I was expecting.”

Tori’s dad laughed. “If you’re talking about a certain Wild hockey player, he’s still hanging out in the hall. Looks a bit nervous if you ask me.”

“What?” Tori asked, looking at them as her dad put Clara down and Clara started to drag him over to where she had put her Christmas presents down.

“Oh yeah, he’s out there giving himself a pep talk, open the door if you don’t believe me,” her dad laughed, following behind Clara.

Staring at the closed door, she knew that Clara would’ve announced Kirill’s presence if he was out there. She practically adored him just as much as Tori did. But more of a point…why was he out there pacing in the hall? Tori opened the door and didn’t even need to look out into the hall, because there was Kirill, wearing a Christmas sweater and moving himself right into view of her apartment door.

“Kirill,” she said, still surprised even though she was told he was out here. “What are you doing?”

He brought his hands out from behind his back, holding an all too familiar pink bakery box from Tori’s favorite bakery down the street. “I wanted to give you this, it’s your birthday.”

She was speechless as he handed over the box to her and she lifted the lid, seeing her favorite three layered chocolate mousse cake she would always treat herself to a slice or two whenever she stopped by the bakery. On it, was white icing that was written in script that said– look up. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at Kirill to see him holding out a small plastic mistletoe decoration with nervous eyes. “What–”

“I know it’s probably lame,” he sighed, dropping his arm by his side. “But I didn’t know what else to do and it’s your birthday and I didn’t want to overlook that. But you’re one of my best friends out here and you’re beautiful and kind and you always make me laugh. I’ve been too nervous to tell you or do anything which is why the guys like to chirp me about you– but I do. I like you a lot, Tori. I like watching movies with you and Clara and ice skating and I’m not good with stuff like this but–”

Tori smiled, before closing the lid on the box and stepping forward, leaning up onto her toes and cupping the left side of his face with her right hand before leaning in and kissing him. She’d always been afraid of making that first move, too nervous about ruining their friendship. Even after they’d spent most of the family skate days earlier, holding hands– playful manor or not. But now, with the cake and his equally adorable rant…she knew that he had feelings for her too and nothing was going to stop her from doing what her hearts been wanting this entire time.

When she pulled away, he looked at her with wide eyes before smiling, holding up the mistletoe. “So it wasn’t cheesy? Because Ryan said it was cheesy and–”

“I loved it, it was very sweet,” she smiled, nodding her head. “Want to come in? We’re just watching a movie.”

He nodded, stuffing the plastic mistletoe into his pocket before walking into the apartment and then coming to a deadstop. She closed the door and turned around, her eyes going wide to see her dad, Clara and Maddie all standing there with smiles on their faces. “Oh…uh…”

“Really guys?” Tori sighed, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

“Took you a while huh, Kirill?” Maddie said, playfully shaking her head. “

He reached up and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I just got nervous. Especially when you walked up, sir.”

“No need to be nervous, I’m a friendly guy,” her dad said, walking over and shaking his hand. “However, why don’t we go sit on the couch and talk about your intentions with my daughter, hm?”

“DAD!” Tori gasped, quickly ushering them away. “All of you go sit in the living room and I’ll cut up the cake.”

“CAKE?” Clara asked, eyes wide as she ran over and lifted the lid to the pink box. “You’ve gotta make your wish first, Aunt Tori!”

“Fine, fine, but you guys go in there and I’ll make my wish in here,” Tori said, as Maddie and her dad went back into the living room while her, Kirill and Clara were in the kitchen. Tori opened a drawer and grabbed the lighter, lighting the two candles.

“Make a wish, Aunt Tori,” Clara smiled, resting her arms on the counter and then her chin on her arms. “Even though I already know what you’re going to wish for.”

“You do?” Kirill asked, playing along.

“You do not,” Tori scoffed.

“Sure I do,” Clara smiled. “For Kirill to be your boyfriend.”

“I guess I did forget something after all,” he laughed, taking the plates from her as she grabbed a knife to cut the cake. “Is that something you want? Because–”

Tori just leaned in, kissing him again before pulling away with a smile, subtly nodding her head. “It’s a yes.”

“Okay, me too,” he nodded, blushing as he motioned towards her cake. “Make another wish.”

Tori blushed, tucking her chin into her chest as she smiled., looking around the room. She had her best friend in the entire world and her dad here, Clara was starting to look more like her old self even after the rough year that she’d been through…and the guy from down the hall she’d been crushing on for almost as long as she’s known him…had finally confirmed what her heart had been telling her all along– that he had liked her too. There wasn’t much more in the world that she could want, but maybe there was, and maybe it was just that she wanted Jess, Steven and her mom to know she was trying her best and she wanted them to be proud of her.

She closed her eyes, making the wish that she hoped all of this would stay– the happiness and the peace that her family had adapted after tragedy, her very new relationship with Kirill…there was nothing more in this world that she wanted than to see Clara’s smile and hear her laugh, or getting to feel Kirill’s hand in hers and experience the fireworks she had when they kissed. After savoring the moment, she blew out the candles and opened her eyes again.

There they were, Clara and Kirill. Clara with her big smile, the one that had the best of both Jess and Steven. And then there was Kirill, smiling just as big and looking at her with a kind of love in his eyes that made her heart patter against her chest.

“Best Christmas Eve and birthday ever.”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

The Most Beautiful Thing

The hiking trail snaked its way through dense pine woods.

Light faded fast that wintry day, allowing fog and gray clouds to swallow crystal blue skies while sunset neared. After a week of amazing weather, it all changed, and threatened to turn beautiful vistas into a dreary landscape.

None of this put a damper on their vacation. Both halves of the happy couple were enjoying their hike. Their activity in the great outdoors and its fresh air helped strip away a lot of baggage that had been piling up over the course of a stressful year.

Snow and dirt crunched underneath the spikes on their shoes. Despite the weather, the trickle of water in a nearby creek and the mist rising from it all lent the bleak colors of a late overcast afternoon an almost magical atmosphere.

Cold and crisp air had turned cheeks rosy, matching the sunny disposition on both their lips. Lips that connected for a romantic kiss when they paused, here and there, enjoying this getaway from their otherwise busy lives.

They paused to snap photos here and there, allowing picturesque portrayals of nature to dwarf them in idyllic images. Lush green trees and uncut stones rose from pure white grounds. Artists could only envy nature for painting such beautiful pictures onto the canvas of the couple’s shared experience.

They laughed. They had almost slipped while taking a selfie, standing upon a ledge over the creek, catching each other and preventing a cold and wet crash.

When they huddled over the phone to view this most recent shot, their laughter died. The smiles on their faces froze.

Captured on the photo, they both glimpsed a shaggy silhouette in the back of the image between their heads. A humanoid figure, almost hidden by the shadows of trees.

Right behind them.

When they turned, that figure was gone.

Only the snap and crack of wood, and darkness between the trees where such a figure may have been lurking.

Their hearts pounded at an accelerating pace.

“What the fuck?” she asked as both their heads swiveled, searching their environs in a growing panic.

He glanced down at the phone’s screen again, as if a second take would make the frightening apparition disappear from the digital image.

Yet there it was, still. Staring back at him from the frozen picture. Their previously smiling faces framed a shadowy figure. Judging by the spot it was now missing from in nature, the figure must have measured several heads taller than them. Only separated by the distance of rocks on both sides of the creek.

“Holy shit,” he said. Tremors shook his voice. “Did—did we just… catch Bigfoot on camera?”

The fear stayed, yet it shared its spot in his beating heart with sheer excitement.

Another crack of a branch somewhere, too far away to be within sight, but close enough to slice through the quiet of the forest’s hiking trail.

Her head snapped one way, then the other, in panicked search of the source of that sound.

“Holy shit, Gabs,” he said, the excitement growing with every word. He shook her arm in one gloved hand, gripping the phone in the other. “Do you think we could prove Bigfoot is real?”

“No,” Gabriella muttered. Then her words cascaded out in angry fear. “Theo, we need to get the hell out of here. We—”

“Have no reception, I know! Come on, think! What if we could find, like, actual proof of Bigfoot?”

No other branches snapped. The woods had fallen deathly silent.

Instead, Gabriella’s head snapped around and she glared at Theo. Terror burned in the fire behind her eyes, consuming the fuel of ire at her boyfriend. Now, she shook his arm, a tug to go with every syllable of imploring him.

“Don’t be stupid! Everybody thinks these pictures are fake! We need to get the hell out of here!”

Theo’s face fell, and the excitement in him shrank with any shred of courage he may have fooled himself into thinking he had. His head swiveled again as he looked for any clues.

The shaggy silhouette only appeared on the photo. Only trees and snow and stone and creek made up their surroundings.

Fear fed paranoia, and the couple started to feel watched.

Gaby tugged at Theo’s arm. He needed no further motivation because that paranoia was tugging even harder at him.

They resumed their hike downhill, down the hiking trail, on their way back to the parking lot and inn.

No longer did the couple enjoy their vacation. All thoughts of it had been erased, replaced by a fear of being followed.

Of being watched.

By a shaggy figure.

The woods around them remained silent, only casting back echoes of every sound they made. Snow crunched twice as often, twice as fast, conveying a sense of hectic. Their pace had doubled. Tripled. Any faster, and they would be jogging.

No longer did the couple exchange words, no longer did smiles grace their lips. No longer did they pause to take pictures, or breathe in the scenery, or even appreciate each other’s company.

They both just wanted to get the hell out of these woods. Off this mountain. Hell, out of the entire state.

At the very least, the terror of seeing that figure on the photo subsided into a simmering fear after minutes of hurrying back down the trail. Soon, the fear had folded into a lurking dread, the possibility that they would wind back up in the cozy inn, where a cozy fire warmed the lobby, and they could laugh over their fright and how ridiculous it all was.

Like, Bigfoot? Really?

Snap, crack.

The couple froze.

Straight ahead of them, the shaggy figure emerged from behind a boulder and trees.

In plain sight, it looked even more terrifying than the still image captured on Theo’s phone.

At first, it crouched, then it rose to full height. Bigger than any man. In a huge hand, shrouded by dark and shaggy fur, the figure gripped a club—a huge bone?

And those eyes, so yellow, they stared at the couple, unblinking. The figure gauged their reaction, then a big foot descended into the snow, making almost no sound whatsoever, and betraying its sheer size and the weight it had to bear.

Theo yelped in fear and turned, yanking at Gaby’s arm, and almost tearing her down as he threatened to drag her with him when he made to run.

She shrieked when they stared at another shaggy figure.

Behind them. The second figure stared back from the shadows between the trees, a silhouette identical to the one on the photo, more slender than the one with the bone club. This figure, too, crouched over snow.

As the couple froze and gasped, the slender one rose to full height, its shoulders stayed hunched, and long fingers curled—poised to grab, and rip, and tear. The silhouette was poised to lunge

To charge. To charge at them.

Crunch, snap, crack.

The heavier one advanced, then the slender giant mirrored its motion behind them. Closing in on the couple.

Instead of shouting at Gaby to run, Theo only emitted a croak. These shaggy giants had robbed him of any speech. He slipped away from Gaby and ran without warning. She immediately followed.

And the shaggy figures gave chase.

No longer silent in their footfalls, snow crunched from four figures. The two giants pursued the fleeing couple. Thudding, thundering, big feet pounded the ground behind them.

The spikes attached to the couple’s hiking boots helped them keep their footing in the snow, preventing them from ever tripping or falling.

But it didn’t help their speed.

The shaggy giants gained ground, catching up to them. Ragged breathing, a gruff grunt, a feral growl—

A roar.

Theo yelled for help.

Gaby screamed.

No longer holding onto each other, they ran. They fled. Headless in their flight, they stumbled and lurched and leapt to gain grounds, but the two hairy giants came closer. Ever closer, each leap and bound shrinking the distance between them.

A glance shot back over a shoulder only served to amplify the terror.

Mere steps behind them.

Gaby shoved a branch and dove under it, letting it smack one of their pursuers in the face. CRACK! The branch broke.

CRUNCH, a swing of the bone club crushed her skull.

Theo screamed as he saw the blood splatter. Steaming hot drops of crimson sprayed onto his cheek.

Gaby’s gaze went blank as she fell into the snow, limbs resting at unnatural angles, all crumpled like a lifeless doll, with more blood gushing out from her head, and staining the forest grounds bright red.

CRACK, CRUNCH, CRACK, the bone club absorbed some crimson of its own, spraying bits and blood all over as it crashed down on Gaby’s skull repeatedly.

Theo imagined this more than he witnessed because he ran. Courage was not among the commodities he could afford now, as terror gripped him, and adrenaline pumped through his body, speeding him up, driving him to run for his own life. For while the giant with the bone club continued to bludgeon Gaby, the other continued to chase after Theo.

Not even afforded space to wonder if she could be saved, he only tried to save his own hide. Another feral growl drove him to duck, just dodging as a huge hand swiped at him and missed. The shaggy giant tripped and lost grounds, giving Theo a chance at escaping by a few steps.

The banker burst out into a crazed, maniacal laugh. Then he tripped, which cut that burst of laughter short, and he fell. The world spun around him as he tumbled downhill, hitting every tree on the way down. Snow crunched and scraped his cheek, branches cracked, and a bone snapped along the way.

Once the world stopped spinning and his fall had been broken by a dozen trees and the bitter cold of the creek’s water, he groaned.

He crawled.

He crawled into the shadows. His leg no longer obeyed, but when it did, it silently screamed at him with excruciating pain. A jagged bone edge stuck out of the fabric of his pants.

So, he crawled. Dragged himself through the dirt, towards the welcome embrace darkness, now his only hope of escaping his pursuer—escaping by hiding. Blood and pain clouded his vision as he followed only instinct, crawling into a cavernous spot, away from that biting cold water that had seeped into fabric underneath his top layers.

Theo crawled, deeper, ever deeper into a hole.

Snap, crack, CRUNCH.

The pursuer caught up, stopping on the ledge above the creek.

Theo held his breath. His heart pounded. His broken bone throbbed.

After moments that felt like an eternity, the pursuer turned and left.

CRACK, snap, crunch.

Still, Theo held his breath. Screwed his eyes shut, only to see the horror the bone club crashing down on Gaby before his inner eyes.

He waited even longer, lying to himself that she could be saved from these monsters.

The only sound that reached him was the trickle of water from the creek.

Out of sight, out of mind? Or had the shaggy figure given up for some other reason?

Theo gasped for air. His lungs were on fire as he caught his breath.

He had already crawled into a narrow spot, vanished into the dark, without leaving a trail that could easily be pursued, towards—

A light?

There was light down there, in the depths beyond a winding, natural corridor of this cave. It took all of Theo’s fortitude not to scream; to not scream from the pain in his throbbing leg, nor the horrific vision of reliving Gaby’s skull caving in from heavy blows, and—

Light. Scintillating, shifting, glittering, like he was nearing a disco ball.

Was he losing his mind? Was he delirious from the agony of his injury?

He crawled towards the light. Perhaps there was a person down here who could help!

He crawled towards the light, to peel away the illusions, in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything that may have resembled hope.

Theo reached the light. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

Beautiful.

It was breathtaking. The most beautiful thing he had ever beheld. For a split second, all pain and horror was wiped away at the sight of this light.

An brightly glowing orb hovered above the ground. The apparition looked like thousands of shattered shards from a broken mirror, each of them combined into a warm glow that illuminated the cold dark of this cave.

Theo grappled with raw emotions, enthralled by the vision, desperate to find help, and driven to survive somehow. Was this real?

It felt real. It looked real.

A trembling, gloved hand of his reached out, extending as temptation eclipsed all other emotions and imperatives. Temptation to touch that light. Reality threatened to peel away before Theo, yet he snapped back into the horror of his predicament.

His leg still throbbed and he gritted his teeth as to not shout in pain again. His shin had fractured in a way he needed to set; he knew that much with certainty.

Rolled onto his back, and quaking to his very core, he bristled at the thought of needing to set his bone, of needing to bandage himself. Of possible infections.

He needed to avoid those things, those damned Bigfoots or whatever those human-shaped monsters were, and limp his way back down to the town to get help.

Horrors now bloomed in his mind.

Gaby… oh, no, Gaby…

He relived her death again. That vision of the bone club turned red, crushing her skull more with every successive blow.

Another growl tore him from that living nightmare.

This growl filled the cave around him, and shook him to his core. Deeper, and more severe, this growl did not match that of the shaggy giant’s.

It was the growl of a dragon. A demon. The growl petered out, pregnant with bestial hunger.

Theo stared into reptilian eyes. Their surfaces reflected the glowing orb behind him, and mirrored his own face—again a mask of terror and despair, slack-jawed, and helpless where he lay on the ground of the cave.

Was it a crocodile? No, its head was far too wide, and large. It reminded him of a hippo in size, lined with many sharp teeth. It filled the entire corridor he had crawled through to reach the light.

The creature’s maw widened, and a new growl erupted from the creature’s throat. This curdled Theo’s blood and instilled him with the certainty of death.

The Purrusaurus lunged forward and when its jaws clamped down, they broke most bones in Theo’s body.

He almost screamed at the top of his lungs. Almost.

Teeth and tongue pulled him in.

Another CRUNCH, and that maw snapped shut a second time, swallowing any scream before it could happen, and chewing on the little human.

The glowing orb of light glistened in the Purrusaurus’ reptilian eyes.

[mister-supernova]

Memories Lost

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

Before Malivore

I.

“Y/n L/n, please do not tell me that you forgot to add eggs to the cake mix.” 

Your eyes widen like a child who is about to be in some serious trouble by their parents. Now that you thought about it, something did feel off about the batter you’ve been struggling to stir for the past five minutes. 

You look up from your batter bowl to see Hope staring at you with daggers in her eyes. 

Yep, you were screwed. 

After gently placing your wisk on the kitchen table, you give the tribrid the best innocent smile you could, “Okay. I won’t tell you that, but I will tell you that we’re going to have to start over since there may or may not be a key ingredient missing from the mix.”  

As much as you wanted the smile to dilute the situation, Hope still pinches the bridge of her nose and runs her fingers through her hair, obviously more stressed out than ever.

Today is Commonwealth Day and some of Hope’s family members from New Orleans are supposed to be coming into town, one of which includes her mother. If anything you felt that you should’ve been the one who was stressed out. 

“How do you forget to add eggs to a cake mix, Y/n?” Hope asks, flailing the full carton of eggs around. She looked like she was on the verge of erupting like Pompeii. 

You decide to approach with caution, “Okay, okay,” you slowly reach for the carton and carefully take it from her hand, “Let’s not break the only eggs left in the fridge, yeah? We do need those. Let’s also take a steady breather for a second.” 

The two of you inhale one large breath of air together and then slowly breathe out. 

“There we go, Hope,” she’s still looking at you with a small amount of fire in her eyes, “Hey, I apologize for my idiocy. I honestly don’t know what you expected when you left me alone to make this, but it’s a minor setback.”

“That was the only box of cake mix we bought, Y/n.” Hope states. 

You fall silent for a moment to let that information sink in, “Okay, slightly more than minor setback,” Hope lets out a frustrated groan and moves past you, “We don’t have to make a cake, Hope. I saw a box of brownie mix in the pantry.” 

“Yeah, that says ‘Lizzie Saltzman’s Brownie Mix: DO NOT TOUCH’ in big black letters. In case you don’t recall, I’m not exactly in her good graces at the moment.” 

“Eh, name me one person who is in her good graces,” you shrug as if it’s no big deal and take the box out anyways, giving it a good shake, “Doesn’t feel like she put any jinxes on it. My arm has yet to fall off so therefore I think we should be safe.”

Hope gives you a look telling you that she’s still unsure of this. 

“Come on, I of all people know how much crap she makes you go through on the daily basis. What’s a box of brownie mix compared to torment?” You pause and think, ‘that’s probably a little much’, “Maybe not literal torment, but you get the picture. I’ll even take the blame if she starts asking questions.” 

“Are you kidding? She’d probably kill you if she found out.”

“That’s what I have you for,” you say matter-of-factly, taking a few steps closer to the tribrid until you were face to face, “What, you thought that I was your friend because I like you?” You ask in a playful tone, making Hope roll her eyes at you even though she was clearly amused, “Keep dreaming, Mikael-” her eyes widen and she covers your mouth with her hand before it’s too late.

You are the only student in the whole school who knows that Hope’s father is Klaus Mikaelson. It took many months of trust-building after your friendship began, but one night at the pier, Hope mustered up enough courage to tell you about her family history. 

She half-expected you to go running for the hills and leave her in the dust. Instead, you blew her expectations out of the water by having the calmest reaction she had ever seen. You thanked her for trusting you so much that she felt that she could tell you something not everyone knew at the time. 

She made you promise not to tell anyone to which you agreed to with a pinky promise. This moment has been the only time you nearly slipped up. Thankfully no one else was in the kitchen, but who knows who could be walking by. 

You raise an eyebrow at Hope, glancing down at her hand that was still covering your mouth. 

Hope quickly retracts her hand back, “Sorry. It was just, you know-” 

“No, that was my bad. Good save though... Marshall.” You say, followed by a cheeky wink. 

A tint of red flushes Hope’s cheeks as she gives you a thankful smile, causing your cheeks to warm up as well. 

You clear your throat and break eye contact with the tribrid, “Shall we get started?” You ask, raising the brownie mix up to your face, “Ass beating from Lizzie or not, I still wanna make a good first impression on your family, especially your mom. God knows you’ve probably dragged my name through the dirt every chance you had.”

Hope playfully rolls her eyes, giving you a small shove before giving in and pulling out a clean mixing bowl. “Fine, let’s just get this over with before we get busted.”

“Atta girl!” You grin widely before ripping the box open. 

There was no going back now. If you two were going down, at least you were going down together and you were getting a sweet treat out of it, too.

II.  

It was a beautiful day to be out at the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. The weather was your idea of perfect; sunny, breezy, and clear. 

Students were reading outside on the grass, the younger kids were playing tag, others playing Wickery, and you were getting your ass beaten by the world’s strongest tribrid.

This was your guys’ third round of sparring for the day and you had yet to win a single one. Just when you thought you had her arm locked behind her back, she whispers the incantation, “Dimiterre.”

Everything went by so fast that you didn’t have any time to think about landing on your feet. Instead, your back slammed against the small wooden pier after being flipped over the tribrid’s shoulder. It wasn’t fair that she could just chant any spell she wanted to throw you off guard. 

“Is that really all you got today, Y/n? This is just embarrassing.” She shakes her head at you like a disappointed coach. 

“I’ll make you eat those words, Mikaelson,” you grunt, feeling a new surge of energy course through your body as you jump back up to your feet, “We’re just getting started.” You smirk, wiping a drop of sweat off your forehead. 

Hope grins back at you, readying her position for another round of sparring. The both of you share the same look of determination, neither one backing out as you throw the first jab. 

Several more rounds pass. All of which ended with your ass hitting the pier as if it were some kind of magnet.

“You’re making this too easy.” Hope says triumphantly with a cocky smile. 

You huff out an exhausted breath of air, “I’m obviously letting you win, Mikaelson,” you use your arms to help you jump back to your feet, “I could easily take you down if I wanted to.” 

“Oh yeah?” Hope wonders, taking a step forward. She was a little less out of breath than you, but you could tell that she was playing it off just as much as you were. 

“Oh yeah. Why don’t we do one final round? This time I won’t hold back.” You challenge her.

“You seem pretty worn out for someone who was holding back.” She states and you pretend not to be hurt by her jab at your lack of combat skills. 

“Maybe that’s just to fool you into thinking you can beat me again,” you shrug as you watch her readjust her gloves, “Oh, and you can’t use your magic. Too much of an advantage.”

Hope’s mouth falls open and she shakes her head, “Then I’d be at a disadvantage. You’re like a whole foot taller than me.” 

“Come on, if it’s so easy you should have no problem pinning me down within two seconds of the round.” 

Hope silently thinks it over in her head, then quickly comes to a decision, “Fine. Loser buys milkshakes at the Grill.” 

You grin, “Deal. Prepare to pay up, Mikaelson.” 

After waiting for one of you to make the first move, Hope decides to sweep kick your legs at an unfathomable speed and knocks your back to the ground. 

She straddled your hips and placed her hands on both sides of your head, “Ha! Looks like someone’s- wha-” 

As quickly as she knocked you to the pier just now, you pulled her neck down to where her face is inches closer to yours, trapped her arm by wrapping yours around it, lifted your leg to trap hers and then rolled your body over to where you were now on top.  

Breathless and cheeks redder than before, Hope stared up at you in shock. If you were completely honest, you had no idea that move was going to work, but you were so glad that it did. For one, now you get a free milkshake and two, you’ve never had Hope Mikaelson’s face this close to yours before. 

Her legs were practically wrapped around your waist and your hands were holding her arms down above her head, making her face dangerously close to yours. It would only take one of you leaning forward for something to happen. 

Instead, you kept your cool, “Looks like I win.” you smile, also breathless, “I like cookies and cream, by the way.” 

III.

“So you do this… for fun?” You ask, sitting as still as possible on a wooden stool in Hope’s bedroom. 

It was a stormy weekend in Mystic Falls, so most of the outdoor activities were closed off until the rain cleared up, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon according to the weather broadcasts. You weren’t a huge fan of being alone during thunderstorms--you’d never let anyone know that--so you found yourself hanging out with Hope. 

Well, you were mainly watching Hope. She came up with the idea of painting a portrait of you sitting by her window to pass the time. Being that you’ve never had a portrait painted of you before, you thought this would be kind of fun. You didn’t expect it to be such a long and quiet process, but you definitely preferred this over being scared out of your mind listening to the thunder by yourself.

Hope hums a yes to your question as she concentrates on her strokes, “Can you look back out the window?” 

You sigh, turning your head to look outside for about thirty seconds before nearly falling off the stool because of the lightning bolt that crashed a couple miles away from the school. As pretty as it looked, being struck by lightning was still one of your irrational fears. 

“Are you sure it’s safe for me to be looking outside?” You turn back to look at Hope. 

“Y/n, I promise nothing is going to happen to you. Now sit still,” she says in a not-so-reassuring voice. 

You let out an annoyed huff, but you do you’re told and turn to face the rain covered window glass.  

“How long does it usually take you to do these things? Asking out of curiosity. Totally not because I’m losing feeling in my glutes.” You wonder, shifting in your stool.

“I’m usually quicker when my subject isn’t interrupting every five seconds and moving around like they have worms in their said glutes.”

You face her again with an over exaggerated look of shock on your face, “Is that some sort of degrading werewolf joke? That is extremely offensive.” 

She leans away from her canvas to look at you, her eyes squinted, “I’m part werewolf, too, idiot.” 

“You’re a tribrid. That’s different. One third of a werewolf doesn’t count, therefore your little worm joke hurts me more.” You stick your tongue out at her.

“Why am I friends with you again?” She’s trying her best to hide it, but you can tell that she’s resisting a smile.

“Because as sad as it is, no one else can make you smile like I do, Mikaelson.” It took a few seconds until she couldn’t help but reveal a very faint yet noticeable grin. She leaned back behind her canvas to conceal it, but there was no use since you already caught sight of it.

“Just shut up and look out the window before I cast a freeze spell on you.”

You wanted to make another snarky remark, but you knew your friend well enough to know that she was serious about casting that spell. To avoid being frozen in an uncomfortable position for God knows how long, you closed your mouth and relaxed your body before looking back out the window. 

IV.

“What do you mean you can’t dance? I’ve seen you do it all the time.” Hope asks, watching you from her bed as you pace back and forth in her dorm room.

“That’s me flailing my body around like a fool hoping it looks good! I don’t know what I’m actually doing!” 

Josie asked you--as a friend--to be her escort for her and Lizzie’s 15th birthday party. You’d only be dancing with her one time, but the problem was that it was supposed to be a waltz and you had absolutely no idea how to do that. 

“It’s embarrassing enough that she asked me to be her escort, I don’t wanna embarrass her even more for not knowing how to do a stupid waltz!” Hope rolls her eyes before having enough of your unnecessary freakout. 

She gets up from her bed to stop you from pacing, “Y/n. Just relax, okay? You freaking out is freaking me out,” she says, holding onto your shoulders, “I can teach you how to waltz.” 

Your body relaxes and a small wave of relief hits you, “Seriously?” 

“What? You think I can’t dance either?” Hope playfully asks, placing her hands on her hips as she tilts her head at you. 

“I’ve never seen you do it before,” you argue, getting a small smack to the arm, “Ow! Okay, I’m obviously kidding… sort of,” she smacks you again, making you laugh this time, “Okay, okay. Forreal now, I could really use your help.” 

Hope sighs, pretending to have second thoughts because of your teases. You don’t worry too much though because you know she wouldn’t leave you to crash and burn like that... at least you really hope so.

“Give me your hand.” She gives in, fitting one of her hands in yours. You grin as your other hand finds her waist and hers rests on your shoulder, “Make sure you’re relaxed, you wouldn’t want to look stiff as a board while you’re dancing.”

You nod your head, taking in a deep breath as you let your muscles relax.

“Also, always have your eyes on your partner. You’re more likely to be tripping on their feet if you keep looking down.” 

“That shouldn’t be too hard.” You say without meaning for it to leave your head. Hope bows her head for a second to hide the redness appearing on her cheeks.

After composing herself, Hope looks back up at you, “First, step forward with your left,” you follow her movements smoothly, “Step sideways to the right,” your right foot steps out, “Close your feet together, then step back with your right,” you glance down at your feet for a second which was your first mistake.

You slightly stumbled, but caught yourself when you put your feet back together. 

Hope chuckles, “What did I tell you?” 

“Hey, now cut me a little slack. I was doing pretty good for a second there,” you defend yourself before repositioning your feet, “What’s next?” 

“Step to the left, bring your feet together, then repeat it all over again but a little faster. You’re going to want to count one-two-three in your head to stay in rhythm,” you raise an inquisitive eyebrow, making her smile, “Okay, I’ll count out loud and you repeat the moves we just finished learning. Does that sound good?” 

You nod quickly, then she takes her step back and you follow, remembering what she taught you. Forward, right, together. Back, left, together. Forward, right, together. Back, left, together. The longer you two went on, the quicker you picked up on the moves and the more comfortable you felt. 

Eventually, you felt that you didn’t need to keep dancing with Hope, but it was hard not to keep going when you have the most beautiful girl in your arms right now.  

“Stop looking so smug.” Hope says, noticing the smile that appeared on your face. Even though she stopped counting, the two of you continued to flow around her room gracefully. 

“I’m waltzing with the big and bad tribrid. How can I not be smug?” 

It’s Hope’s turn to smile, but she gives you a playful eyeroll to counter the fact that she was enjoying this, “If you tell anyone I did this for you, you’re dead.” 

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare let anyone know you’re an actual decent person, Hope Mikaelson. It’ll be our little secret.” You wink at her, making her cheeks even redder. She moves her mouth to one side of her face to keep herself from smiling any wider. 

It made your heart flutter, seeing how comfortable she was around you. You got to see the vulnerable side of her that she rarely ever showed to anyone else at the school. It’s the small moments like this that you knew you'd keep in your heart forever. 

~

this one is more of a flashback situation in comparison to parts 1 and 2 and there’s some more happy moments since the first 2 were a little more angsty lol part 4 coming soon! 

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[neo-culture-mafia]

NCT Dream Reaction First Kiss

Hey guys! It's admin j back with another reaction. Most are fluff and a some have a twist. News on Cleanse Week will be coming soon so be sure to look out for that. Some are longer than others for sake of the back story and...well...I might've gotten carried away haha.

Remember I love you guys and remember to smile. If no one has told you yet today, I love you and I'm proud of you.

가자~~

[Not proofread - sorry]

[posted : 5.22.20]

Mark

Mark's first kiss with you would be a total accident. It had turned from the trainee mentor relationship into something more very quickly yet beautifully. It was still in the puppy stages of the relationship where you both were finding eachother's vibes.

You both would be in the hand-to-hand combat training room just running over some drills, one on one. "Right hook. Left sweep. Chin kick." His voice barked as you pushed your body to its limits. His hands were in mitts that protected himself against your assaults effortlessly.

"Finish off. Spin kick." He said and you turned around connecting your heel with the gear. "Good work." He cheered shaking the gloves off and handing you your water.

You took it and sat down on the ground where you previously had practiced. "My body hurts." You whined rolling around for a minute as he joined you on the floor. "You did great though." He took a sip from his own water.

Talking for a few minutes then you stood up. "Your turn now." You smiled and grabbed his gloves. His hearty laugh had you raise your eyebrows at his reaction. "Not a chance, baby." He got up and pinched your cheek. "Why do you say that?" You said putting your protected hands on your hips. "I just don't wanna hurt you is all." He shrugged and your mouth dropped.

"Am I not strong enough?!" You said with a shocked laugh. He shook his head no, walking over. "I didn't say that, cutie." His finger came up to boop your nose quickly.

"Then let's go." You kept nagging and he only looked at you for a moment. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He chuckled as you put your hands up strongly.

He got ready and took his beginning stance. "Right kick." You said and the force you were met with made you want to grab and cradle your own hand, yet, you carried on with the calls. "Left knee. Right knee. Roundhouse." You thought of all the kicks you knew in your own head.

Mark was getting lost in the calls and forgot about who he was training with for a moment. "Knee wrap-" his leg hooked around your knee and it had you shooting towards the ground.

After he felt your body falling he reached his hands out and grabbed your flailing arms quickly, picking you up mid-fall.

He had yanked you up and the next thing you knew...lips to lips. You both stood there for a moment in the kiss, not moving until you both had fully registered what was happening.

Both of your faces were blushed and rosey from the magical feeling kiss; both standing face to face still, turning away to try and hide the clear embarrassment. "Uh. I have to uh. I have to go write up some reports." You said as you picked up your bag with a smile.

"Of course." He nodded. "Thanks for the extra training session." Your smile only had his heart thumping faster.

"Always. You know where to find me." Both of you were so awkward as you said goodbye. Yet once you left him alone he was going crazy with excitement.

Renjun

It turns out that your guys' kiss was after the first argument. The kiss was cliché within itself but it was magical.

You both were in his apartment just talking as a thunderstorm raged on outside. The night took a dark turn when you both stated what you were looking for in a long relationship. You looked at Renjun and saw what you were looking for exactly. Renjun thought you could do better than him and his insecurity shone through that night.

"Someone amazingly smart." You smiled yet his smile dropped. "Oh?" "Mmmhmm. And wickedly handsome." The small giggle your body carried irked Renjun.

"Someone who has a tough exterior but is actually a softie." You were basically describing him trait for trait but the description wasn't lining up in his own head.

"So who are you looking for?" You asked as you situated yourself on the couch so you were facing him more. Just to spite innocent you, he started to list everything you thought you were, making yourself question your own worth and being.

"Loud and bright." Your smile only faltered a little at the hard to swallow statement. He didn't see like you that? "Someone who understands when to not talk about stuff. They stay quiet." Your gaze fell to your lap.

"Someone insanely beautiful." His playfully sounding yet vindictive words got your mood down and all you wanted to do was leave. "I think I should get going." Was all you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped on your shoes. He didn't stop and could only watch as you walked out of the door.

"Hey Jeno. Bye Jeno." You said as you opened the door and were met with the bulkier boy. Then you were gone.

Jeno rushed into the room and looked at Renjun with an upset face. "You idiot." Jeno stressed as he started beating Renjun with pillows. "She was talking about you, you doorknob." He said pointing to where you were once sitting.

"Huh?" Renjun was dumbfounded. "We bugged the room idiot. She was talking about you and you act that way towards her?!" Jeno asked and your words flashed through his mind again. The truth of the intrusion went directly over his head in the moment.

"Oh my God." He said starting to get up but freaking out. "What do I do?!" Renjun asked as his hands went through his hair, gripping at his brown locks. He started to pace the room in agitation.

"Go get her back!" Jeno dragged Renjun to the door and Renjun wasted no time as he pushed his shoes on and ran out the door and down the hall to the stairwell. He flew down the flights of stairs and into the apartment building's lobby. You were no where to be seen.

He felt guilty as he ran out the door into the pouring rain and saw you walking down the side walk in a hurry to get to shelter.

"Y/n!" He yelled but you couldn't hear him over the sharp drops of water. He groaned as he raced after you, passing some nightly joggers in the process.

He automatically flung his arms around your body and held onto you. "I don't deserve you. You were talking about me and I didn't realise. I am so sorry for trying to hurt your feelings, y/n. I'm still new to this whole relationship thing and still need to learn some things that you already know." you cut him off by turning around to face him.

"You're insanely pretty and super bright and bubbly at times. You're too friendly at times and so kind to random strangers. You're so respectful and I could never think of anyone better of a person than you. I'm so sorry that I was me-" you automatically connected your lips to his as you realized he wasn't going to shut up anytime soon if nothing stopped him.

He relaxed into the kiss and held your face perfectly in his hands. A moment of silence was between you both as you eased out of the kiss to look at one another. Raindrops fell down from your eyelashes and Renjun thought he was holding onto an angel.

"Oh my God you're perfect." His words were mumbled as he could only kiss you again in the rain.

Jeno

He knew that he was the boyfriend that you got to piss off your parents. You two had met at your work at the library when he was picking up se alchemy books.

He had really fallen for you though. He was absolutely enamored with you and your personality. You were his personal drug. You both were polar opposites yet found the most random things in common.

He would always try to set up the 4th date but something would always come up. He really believed you liked him and you knew for sure that he likes you but you both just had to wait for now. But waiting had been 3 and a half weeks since you guys have at least saw eachother in person. The boys were asking where you went to at this point for they had grown a liking to you too.

The second date was at his place where his friends dressed up in tuxes and served a fancy dinner. Yet...no kiss as he dropped you off that night. Just you scurrying away from his car with a bright smile on both of your faces.

"Did you guys smooch?" Jaemin asked as the door to the apartment opened to a smiley Jeno. "Nope." He cheered as he threw his keys in the bowl. The boys groaned as some popcorn was thrown at the ecstatic boy.

"I'm not just gonna rush her to kiss me. If she wants to then we can-" "wow you really have softened up." Hyuck gasped as his eyes became squinty at his friend. "Bad boys really do fall for good girls." Jisung gagged at the circumstances. "Yeah yeah yeah. Just don't want to scare her off is more like it." Jeno sighed slipping off his boots. "You just gotta go up and smooch. How hard is it? Have I taught you nothing?!" Jaemin asked as he punched his friend's shoulder. "Chill. It'll happen eventually." Jeno laughed as he twirled into his bedroom.

~~

You had been out with your parents for a cute little lunch on a sunny Sunday afternoon. "You need to start going after boys who can take care of you." You mom sighed as she finished up her meal. "And not this imaginary gang member you're dating. Fantasy land is not reality."

Whatever you said always went in as stories to your parents' ears. It was getting insulting at this point. "Well I even offered to bring him to lunch today-" "and you probably would've picked up a hooligan off the street." You dad pointed his finger at you.

You huffed and fell into your seat. "I have a love interest. You just don't want to believe he's real." You sighed and they groaned. "Because the things you say don't make sense. What gang member goes to a library? For science books? Do you hear yourself, sweetie?" You mom grabbed your shoulder as she tried to be comforting.

"Can we just go home now? I don't want to shop anymore?" You pouted and you automatically got up to leave. Your parents followed and you all went to the front desk to pay.

Jeno had spotted you before you spotted him. He and the rest of the Junior Forces came to the outside mall to shop and chill for the day. That's when they sat by the fountain and just joked around for a little bit. There, he saw you standing with your two parents. You didn't look the happiest as you rocked back and forth on your feet.

Jeno whistled loudly and quickly drawing the attention of the boys but most importantly you. You turned your head and were met with the boys who were all staring at you along the smiley face paired with the usual done up head of hair that you loved oh so much. "Y/n!" Some of the boys waved which got the attention of your parents. "Who are they?" You mom asked quietly. "Make-believe." You sassed.

Your head turned towards your parent's confused faces and you knew what you were going to do. Jeno was expecting you to cheerfully skip over but you marched over with a purpose. Some of the boys were actually confused on why you looked so distraught. "Y/n! Get back here." Your father called loudly from the desk.

You approached and grabbed Jeno by the collar, pulling him up. "Don't ask why, just kiss me." It didn't take long for him to grab your waist and pull you up closer towards his face where he passionately kissed you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His free hand traveled to the back of your neck to lead you. The kiss was filled with such passion and fierce feelings that if he wasn't holding you against him, you would've surely fallen to the ground as you legs turned to jelly.

"Oh my God she actually did it." Jaemin said with a shocked face while the boys cheered. "Finally!" Renjun raised his arms over his head. Yet, the rest of the boys noticed the approaching parents before you both did. The cheers died down. "Angry parents. 12 o'clock." Hyuck slapped Jeno's legs quickly.

Your parent's presence along with your dad clearing his throat, "y/n.", made you break away first. You stood on your own two feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand with a smirk.

"Mom. Dad. Meet Jeno. Not so imaginary now, is he?" You said with such an attitude towards your dad. You turned back to Jeno with a sweet smile. "Call you later." You winked. "Bye, boys." You sweetly smiled, "Bye. Y/n." Jisung was the only one who shly waved back. You walked past an awestruck Jeno with your angry parents in tow.

Once you all were out of hearing distance, the cheers from the boys made Jeno return to reality very quickly. "Oh. My." He whispered, hands coming up to feel his lips gently. "Ugh. Growing up so fast." Hyuck coo'd as he dabbed his eyes from his fake tears.

Hyuck (longer)

You were an outside business women that had this poor boy following at your every step. You were a bad ass leader that ran her own fashion firm.

He was deployed to pose as your assistant because Taeyong was suspicious on how fast you came up and got known.

You both instantly clicked and Hyuck found out that you had no affiliated work with any type of syndicate or group of any sort. You just worked hard for what you wanted and you surely got it. Yet, once his main job was done, he still kept his position as you assistant. Tae didn't mind as long as he was where he needed to he when he needed to be.

As you two got closer he learned who you really were. You were a strong ass lady who never let anyone take your title or money from you. He fell in love with your strength and bad bitch personality.

"Coffee for the queen." He set your coffee on your big desk. He sat on the laquered wood next to you in your big office chair. His put one leg on top of the other and sipped his own coffee as you sketched in your designing pad. "Thank you, Hyuckie." You said as you concentrated. "Any thing on the schedule today?" You asked and he pulled up your agenda on his phone.

"Nothing but a meeting at 5." He bounced his leg. "Chelsea boots...again?" You asked as you caught sight of his foot wear.

He chuckled and took a good look at them. "What? Don't hate on the outfit of the day." He said and you finally looked at him up and down since he clocked in this morning. His distressed Nirvana tee was paired with jeans and the Chelsea boots. It was overall a nice outfit.

You said no more words, "clear my schedule. we're going shopping." And just like that you 2 were headed to the mall to shop the day away.

You linked your arm with his as you both walked into the bright shopping center. Both of you were super comfortable with each other and you would never be caught dead telling him that you had fallen for him.

He was so friendly but you were so sure that was just his nature and he didn't feel the same way.

"Oooooo. I'm getting you new shoes." You said as you tugged him into a random designer store that caught your eye. You pushed him down onto the velvet bench where he quickly regained his balance.

"What size shoe do you wear?" I asked and he only stared for a moment. "You don't need to. I have shoes already-" "But I want to." You smiled and was waiting for his answer. He wasn't used to people getting him stuff like this so he felt very out of place, but when he looked at you be felt safe. "270." And with that you were off down the aisles of shoes.

"Ew. They carry my brand." He heard your voice and he couldn't help but laughing lightly. You came back with your arms full of shoes. "Woah." He got up to try and help but you just dropped them on the ground.

"Start trying on, please. Get what you want. Don't be modest. I got some spending money. I'll be looking at watched and jewlery at the other side of the store." You handed him one of your credit cards. No information except your name was on the thick piece of black plastic that he now hesitantly held in his hand.

You were now bouncing off to the other side of the store with a smile on your face.

He began trying them on and he was blown away with the quality of each shoe. They were all amazing but he knew he couldn't get all. He narrowed it down to 3 shoes and headed to the cashier who was dressed very fancy like.

He set the shoes on the pristine white marble counter and waited to be serviced. The man just looked skeptical as he rung Donghyuck up. "How will you be paying?" The man's stares made Hyuck uneasy and feeling judged. He slid your card across the counter and returned to his position of his hands behind his back.

The man looked at the card and at the uneasy boy then back down to the card and had a throaty laugh. "You're playing a prank, aren't you?" He asked and now Hyuck just wanted to leave. "Your type shouldn't even be in here." The worker scoffed

"No. He belongs here as much as I do." You popped up beside Hyuck who automatically felt a rush of confidence that he usually had, but ever since he had entered this high-profile area- he lost. "And especially because I know for a fact that he makes more than all workers here...a week." Your voice was tough as the worker stood in shock with your card in his hands.

"Oh my God. You're...you're y/f/n." His smiles were now being dumbed down once he realized you were not happy in the slightest. "Now...I'm Pissed. That's who I am." You said pushing the shoes closer and setting some pieces of jewelry and a couple pairs of sun glasses down on the counter. He rang up all of the items with care and quickness. Hyuck stood there in shock that this was happening. Your hand came up to play with some of his hair that lost its place. "I apologise again sincerely. It's just that type-" "Can you please tell what TYPE you're talking about?" You asked as you grabbed the heavy bags from the counter and keeping them in your hands. All the workers now gathered around with their heads lowered.

"Well. Lower clas-" "I'm going to stop you there." Hyuck knew exactly where this was going. You had been lower class yourself before making it big and you never forgot where you came from. There has been times that your friends stopped talking to you because they walked into your office to see you sporting department store sweatpants and a distressed tee along with your all-time favorite pair of skating shoes. You get it. And you never treat anyone differently no matter how they look or what they sport in the daytime. What you did judge people on though, is how they interact others...and boy did you hate mean and rude people.

"-and I can promise that your ass won't work in any luxury store in the whole Asian continent after this week. That isn't a threat. It's a promise. Good day to you, sir." You said taking Hyuck's hand and dragging him out of the store.

You both walked down the tiled floor and you breathed out. "Almost lost my cool there." You said and Hyuck could only laugh. You had put him in a better mood.

"Are you okay though?" You asked and he nodded. "Never been better." He smiled and you touched his cheek lightly. "Now let's go for some shirts and pants." You said motioning to the next store that caught your eye.

"Hello Miss. y/n. Welcome back." A woman greeted and you greeted back equally as nice. "Oh thank you. How are you this week? Did your daughter perform well in her recital?" The bags were taken from yours and his hands automatically by workers while you started to look through racks.

"Do you like button ups?" You asked him and Hyuck could only shrug. "I like t-shirts." You laughed at his cute response but held a shirt up to his torso. "This would be handsome." You said and put it over your arm and continued looking.

"Go. Look around. Pick up whatever catches your interest." You winked and he took you up on your offer. He looked around and picked up some shirts that he would wear daily to have some elegant sense.

"Ready to try on?" A worker asked you and you nodded grabbing Hyuck and you were both guided to a big room with what felt like a million mirrors.

The door closed and it was just you two. There was a small circular rising in the middle of the room where you could model clothes once they were on.

"Alright. Shirt off. This shirt's been making so curious on how it would look on you." Hyuck froze. His gun's metal has never felt more cold on his hip. "Uh. Can't I try them on myself?" He laughed nervously. You looked at him and looked around. "Uh. You okay?" You laughed lightly and he shrugged after a moment.

Then a lightbulb went off in your mind. You took your hand bag off and opened the lid and put the opening towards him. "What?" He asked looking at you.

You sighed at his cluelessness and motioned a gun shape. His blood ran cold and a shiver went down his spine. He slowly lifted his shirt up to expose the dark metal laying on his waist.

He grabbed it and put it in your bag. You cheerily put it down and tugged at his shirt. "How did you know?" He was still in a frozen state and wanted to know answers now.

You pushed him back to the stage and he obediently stepped on. You started lifting his shirt but his hand grabbed your wrist. "How do you know?" He asked sternly and your eyes rolled. "I'm a girl that knows what she needs to." You said and continued to help him redress.

The scars on his torso intrigued you but need to be brought up at a later time. "How?" He asked once again as you buttoned his buttons. You spaced out for a moment before regaining all your thoughts.

"My father ran a smaller syndicate and my brother acted the same way as you before you started his own. I separated myself from that life and went to design school to run from that life." You rambled but he took in every word. "All of a sudden you become my assistant and I see your behavior, gun bulge on your waist, and tattoos. Next thing I know, my brother talks to me for the first time in 10 years to see what I've become." His mind was doing loops as he tried to put the missing puzzle piece in place.

"I'm guessing Taeyong doesn't talk about me much, huh?" You said and Hyuck thought he was gonna faint and puke at the same time. "You...you...sister?" He asked slowly. You sighed as you nodded your head. "It's old family affairs, I suppose. Saw I was head of my own company yet a big softie and retracted all offers he first gave me." Your hands ran down his torso to smoothen the fabric out.

"Oh my God." Was all he could say in the void of silence. Your laugh pulled him down to earth.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna judge you because I know what it's like. Training. Not have a clear thought for yourself. Following directions all day long. And you're a good guy. I don't judge from what you are. But how I feel about you. And I like you." You shook your head and everything seemed so much more clear.

He wasn't thinking clear when his lips found themselves on yours. He was more shocked you didn't pull away. Yet , he was so happy that you didn't pull away from him.

The kiss broke with the both of you regaining your breaths. "I promise we can talk about this...us...later." you smiled. Hyuck hadn't noticed how his arms wrapped around your body until you broke away and stepped off the platform. "But I want to get these clothes and go get a burger and a milkshake. I'm starving." You smiled and turned away.

Yet, the mirror couldn't hide your rosey cheeks and big smile that made his heart thump behind his scarred chest.

Jaemin

You and him were polar opposites in personalities. His rough and jagged moods were always slowed down and capped by your soft nature. On the outside, both of you held the similar style, yet once each of you opened your mouthes, people would turn their head in confusion.

Both of you were close since you became a trainee in the Junior Forces. He had grown an unusual liking to you that had the other boys confused as to what he saw in you.

He saw something he could protect and stuck to it.

"Let's go get some coffee." He whined as he dragged you out of your bed by your ankles. You hit the ground with an 'oof' and were still dazed and confused by what happened.

"Y/n let's go." He pulled at your arms. "But I'm tired." "That's why we're going to get coffee." He said and threw a hoodie and jeans onto you.

"5 minutes then I'm going without you." He said walking out of your room. He would wait patiently for up to 20 minutes is what '5 minutes' meant.

You groggily got up and got changed into the oversized hoodie and jeans. You pulled random shoes on and walked out to Jaemin eating ice cream from your freezer. "Are you ready yet?" He asked and you nodded as you grabbed your phone and wallet.

He pushed you out of the door and all the way until you both hit the street. The sun was out and it was a beautiful day to just stroll around for a little bit.

"So what's new with you? How was the mission?" You asked as his hand slipped around your shoulders. "Tiring. Wanted to leave as soon as I got there." He smiled a little. "So...the usual." You giggled as you both turned the corner onto the main street.

"Now, you. What's been going through that brain of yours?" He asked, ready to hear you become talkative about what you've been up to. "I was watching this new show and the main characters are so cute-" "yeah?" "and they just won't fall in love already. They're perfect for one another but they just won't see it and it's so frustrating-" you talked to whole way to the cafe but he loved every word that fell from your lips.

"The usual?" He asked and you nodded but continuing where you left off. You shushed when he ordered but he became more engaged as you both waited.

"That's basically it." You suddenly said and he smiled. "Well the show sounds amazing." He complimented your explanation. "It really is. Ooo and there's this new movie we should see together. It's about zombies." You said playing with the straw container. "Really?" He mindlessly added on. "Mm-hmm. It's coming out next week." He thanked the worker as the two drinks were served.

He handed the cold coffee to you and put a straw in. You both were off on the streets again.

"What do you want to do?" You asked and he shrugged. "Park?" You suggested. He gave a small nod and you both began the new journey. "Mmm. Taste this." He held his dark black iced americano up to your lips but you just looked at him hesitantly. "No. It tastes icky." You shook your head but he continued to hold it up to you.

You sighed and decided one sip wouldn't be terrible. You took some of the liquid into your mouth. The bitterness made you reel back from the sour and bitter liquid.

His laugh shook through his body as your eyes sparked with pure caffeine. "It's awful." You said taking sips of your own drink. "Awfully good." He continued.

You both made it to the park and sat on a bench that looked out to the river. The cool breeze wrapped you both together. His arm found its way around your shoulders and your head ended up resting on his shoulder.

"I like you." His sudden confession had you frozen. No warning or anything. Not even a leading up statement. "What?" You said as you sat up a little to face him. "You like me?" You restated the confession and he could only nod.

"I like you too. I just never thought that you felt the same way. I was so scared that it was one sided and you would never talk to me again-" he rolled his eyes at your never-ending rambling.

He grabbed your face and shut you up by kissing you. The bitterness of his coffee was present in the kiss but it tasted more...sweet this time. It was intoxicating.

You both broke away from the kiss but your foreheads rested against one another. "You talk to much." He whispered with a smile.

"If that's what you're going to do to shut me up. I'll talk more often."

Chenle

The first kiss would be magical yet an unplanned way to distract you.

Both you and Chenle were deployed on an extraction mission. Jisung and Jeno messed up during their own mission and had been held captive for the past week. Jeno his his mic and wire and that was the only way you guys knew they were still alive.

Mark and Taeyong deployed both of you as soon as a plan was made by Chenle. Him being the escape artist on the team made him an amazing fit for the job. You were more for a backup and decoy.

You both entered the foreign feeling base and automatically got to work. "Guards just left." Jeno mic'ed from wherever he was in the building.

"Headed directly to you." Chenle whispered into the almost invisible wire. Your range of vision was wide as you looked out for any other people.

You bumped into Chenle as he stopped outside of a door. "This one." He said and you looked for any witnesses as he began to pick the locks.

The door was opened in no time and he pulled you into the dimly lit room. A bloody jeno and jisung sat in chairs. Yet, the happiness in their eyes made up for their bruises and scrapes. "Get us out of here. Now." Jisung begged moving around in his seat.

"There's a device on his chair. We think it's explosive." Jeno said lowly. Chenle checked his best friend's chair as his smile fell. "Pressure activated. Once you get up, it'll detonate." He said and you could see everything flash through his mind. "We just need to find something to transfer the pressure so we can leave." Everyone's eyes looked around the bare room until Jeno was the first one to lay his eyes on you.

One by one they all gained the same realization. "Oh. No." You shook your head. "No no no." You shook your head and you saw the bruised boys become more ancy. "Please, y/n." Jisung pleaded as tears came into his eyes.

"I'm the only one that knows the right way out. I promise we'll be right back to get you." Chenle said coming over and grabbing your shoulders strongly. "I swear." He said and all of a sudden you became ancy and distraught.

"The guards came back and they're not here? And I am? I'll be dead." You said becoming more erratic. Chenle slipped his own gun into your hands. "That would never happen. The exit is directly down the hall. As soon as we're out, I'll be 10 minutes tops." He said trying to stop your tears that were forming.

"Y/n. Please." Jeno called softly.

Your heart rate picked up and you felt a panic attack coming on very quickly. You grabbed your face to stop the heat rushing to your face. You started babbling and rambling, becoming more louder as your ears clogged naturally.

"Y/n you have to be quiet." Chenle tried shushing you as the two boys were still trapped in their seats. Chenle was looking for something to shush you but was left high and dry.

"They're going to come if she gets any louder." Jisung rocked back and forth in his seat. "Stop doing that." Chenle said holding his hand out to his friend who was about to breakdown himself.

The boys understood why you were getting so worked up. They were asking you to be a sitting duck for a while, not even being allowed to move out of the position for fear of death by explosion.

Your levels of loudness were consistently rising in the small concrete room. "I really thought this would happen another way." Chenle sighed but threw his lips on yours. It was dead silent as Jeno and Jisung sat stunned at the methods Chenle used.

When he backed off you were still silent. Silent tears were what you were diminished to. "10 minutes. I promise." He hugged you tightly and he felt your nods of approval against his shoulder. "Don't let me die here." You whispered and he could only hold you tighter if that was possible.

"We have to go." Chenle said and went back to finally untie Jeno and Jisung. Jeno got up smoothly but Jisung sat frozen. "Y/n. Start scooting onto the seat as he starts scooting off. The weight transfer will hold constant that way." Jeno said and Jisung began to slowly scoot off of the wooden chair. You slowly took his position and the next everyone knew, you were trapped in the seat.

Chenle put one of his guns in your lap and kissed you one last time. "I'll be back soon. I promise." He said. You watched as they walked out of the room, never looking back.

The door was left wide open and you sat there in plain sight. The only thing you heard was the shakiness in your breath. "Almost to the car." Was all you heard over your earpiece after what felt like forever.

You couldn't respond out of fear of being heard by someone fom the other side.

The silence became deafening. "Are you coming back?' you asked into the mic but it was met by silence. The tears began to fall faster as the same erratic heartbeat took place in your chest again.

Footsteps were heard coming back down the hall at a rapid yet quiet pace.

"lele?"

(omg I could never imagine real chenle doing this but I had to do it for the angst)

Jisung

Both of you lived out the puppy love stage for all of the relationship.

"Please just leave." Jisung groaned as he followed Jeno and Jaemin around the apartment. "Why? We've met her before. It's not like we'll be scaring her off." Jaemin said as he took a bite of his sandwich. "I know but I get out when your partners come over. Why can't you do the same for me?" Jisung asked as he sat down grumpily at the counter. "Because we're not ready to be uncles yet." Jeno reasoned and the two older boys laughed.

"You two are so gross." Jisung whined. "And we're not even..." The two boys stared intently at Jisung. "None of your business. Why can't you just leave for like a couple hours." Jisung spun around in the chair.

"Here. We'll make you a deal." Jaemin said as he threw his sandwich onto his plate. He took a moment of thinking and came up with a good negotiation. "You wash both of our cars. Inside and out." Jaemin said and Jisung was on the edge of his seat. "We'll leave for a couple hours and let you guys do...whatever you guys do." Jaemin finished with an eye roll. "Deal." Jisung said and automatically began to gather his hyungs stuff.

"New movies are showing. They look really cool. You should also get some dinner." Jisung said shoving each of their wallets in their hands. "Now leave." He said looking at both of them seriously.

The older boys groaned but obeyed the wishes of their younger brother. "If Mark calls and says he hears ONE moan-" "Yeah yeah yeah. Ew." Jisung said as he swatted them out of the door. "Oh, hi, y/n!" Jeno greeted cheerfully as he opened the front door. Jaemin gave a sincere smile. "Jisung is kicking us out for the night to have fun with you. Please do not do the diddly-do on any shared furni-" "YAH! LEAVE!" Jisung yelled once he saw your face fall and all color drain.

The two boys left with laughs as Jisung pulled you into the apartment.

"Please ignore them." He laughed and you waved him off. "It's fine. Really." You laughed.

~~

The whole date was cuddling on the couch and just being with each other which was actually really cute.

Jisung went to lay on the floor and you followed suit to bug him. You lifted his legs and began to balance on them. "Airplane." You laughed as his own laughs made it hard for him to hold you up.

Next thing you know, you fell directly into your guys' first kiss. What went from a laughing moment turned into a serious one.

His arms wrapped around you comfortably.

The presence of a shocked Jeno and Jaemin went unnoticed.

"I mean at least they're not on the couch." Jaemin said causing his friend to laugh and the two of you to push off eachother in a blushy and heated mess.

"You could've knocked." Jisung said as you began to get up and straighten yourself out. "For our own apartment?" Jeno asked as Jae was in the kitchen once again.

"I should be going." You smiled sweetly and bowed to Jeno and smiled at Jisung who waved quickly from where he sat on the ground.

You put on your shoes and left quickly.

Jae came back with a sandwich in hand to join the silent tension. "First kiss?" He asked with a mouth full of bread.

Jisung shyly nodded and the two olders looked at eachother.

"Figures." Jeno said walking off.

(ugh he'd be such a comfy boyfriend. prove me wrong)

[theoppositequeens]

let’s give love another life

For @kanejweek Day 1: Mythology (gods & saints, soulmates)

Read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31920445

Pairing: Kaz/Inej

Rating: T

Title from Lea Michele’s Run to You

let’s give love another life

Some said that to meet your soulmate, you had to sacrifice.

What, that was the unclear part. Some said the bond only bloomed if you were both ready, if you had worked on yourself, if you were bettering yourself. If you were ready to accept love into your life. Some whispered on street corners that only those who had survived something horrible and come through on the other side deserved a soulmate from the Gods, the Saints, whatever entity one believed granted the bonds.

Kaz Rietveld had once dreamed of such a bond. As a child, he had watched his Da's soulmark, a stylized black marigold flower on his bicep. Jordie would tell him quietly at night about how it had once been in color, before their mother died. His brother spoke of the yellows, the oranges, the greens that had tangled over his father's skin. Of the stalks of yellow wheat on his mother's bicep, golden like on a sunny morning under a blue sky, until the day of her death. It seemed like a fairy-tale under their thin blankets, curled up together and whispering secrets while they should have been asleep. Still, in the darkness of the night, Jordie always told him the cruel ending to that tale. How his father had screamed when the color on the mark on his arm had slowly bled out, darkened.

Jordie told him that he had sat with his father as the midwife tried to save their Ma, clutching his father's arm. That he only remembered the screaming, and how Kaz's own cries of hunger and anger at being separated from the family while being taken care of by the midwife's daughter had mingled with his mother's, and later his father's. Kaz had been barely one, he didn't remember. Neither Jordie nor his Da had ever spoken of the sibling that had been lost along with Ma.

Still, despite the story of heartbreak his Da's soulmark told, Kaz had believed in magic. Believed in love, a soulmate that would suit him perfectly. He listened as Da told them stories about their Ma around the fireplace on a good evening, watched the fond smile on his Da's face as he remembered. Kaz Rietveld wanted that kind of love for himself.

Kaz Brekker did not.

He knew soulmates existed, of course, he had seen the marks, even once seen the bright white light when two hands met and marks bloomed into existence on previously unmarked skin. He knew they were said to be perfect matches. He knew they were said to be all about love, about calm and balance and understanding.

He didn't think anyone would ever understand him. He didn't think he'd ever want to explain himself to anyone, either. Being bare like that... Kaz Brekker was Dirtyhands for a reason. He had shed the boy who believed in magic, locked him away again every time he came out. Inej Ghafa in the sunshine, the sweep of her lashes, the determination in her eyes the way she held him accountable – none of it would ever show on his face, he thought.

He was so wrong, and he admitted it as he watched her ship sail away, standing in a shadowed corner of the harbor. She had visited him at the Slat last night, fed the crows for a final time, gone over some plans and information about slaver's routes. She'd dropped a document on his desk, stolen from an upstart rival he'd been looking into while she bounded around Ketterdam showing her parents around. It felt like a parting gift.

He'd never said goodbye, couldn't bring himself to. She didn't either, only melted into the shadows and out the window silently. A goodbye would seem too final, and his mind screamed at him to scheme, to keep her here, to keep using her both for valuable information and for soothing his own emotions, needs, wants. His heart squashed his mind ruthlessly, for once. She wanted this, she would be happy.

Now as he watched the Wraith cut through the calm morning waters, he admitted to himself that his own happiness had always been secondary. First to revenge, and now to Inej's happiness. So he would let her go.

-------

Inej watched Ketterdam grow on the horizon. She was returning after many months at sea, to restock and let her crew, who were mostly Kerch, have a long, well-deserved shore leave. It was logical, a good plan, and yet a voice in her mind whispered: you are here for him.

And she was.

Kaz's eyes haunted her dreams. She imagined his pale fingers between hers, imagined more. More touches, a wry smirk on his lips, his raspy voice in her ear. Imagined late nights scheming together, many goodbyes and many reunions as she left for work and always came back. She didn't know if she could have that, but she wanted.

Inej had never thought she could want a man again. Not physically, not mentally, not romantically. But she did. She had felt the first tendrils years ago in the Barrel, let herself feel something for its Bastard. When she had left on the ship, well aware that Kaz was watching, sequestered in some shadowy corner, she had thought of staying. But she had needed this journey, and she had followed the call of her heart. She had done a lot of good at sea, saved lives. Ended some as well.

Inej believed whole-heartedly in soulmates, but she knew she didn't deserve one after all that she had done. She would never be so bold as to pray for one from the Saints, either.

Screw soulmates, Inej thought. If I can only have Kaz Brekker, I'll be happy and never ask for anything more.

She didn't know if Kaz would be waiting for her. If Dirtyhands would greet her with a stoic nod, of if there would be emotion in his eyes. If he would acknowledge her at all. Sometimes, she felt she asked too much of him, leaving him in a broken and messy city with no promise of returning, and still requiring him to strip off his armor. Perhaps, this time she had pushed him too far.

Yet, the fear was not stronger than the yearning. She wanted to find out. Wanted more than a second of his attention, the way he always made her feel seen, but if that was all he had to give she would settle for it. She'd be heartbroken of course, but she was not so fragile she could not continue on with her life.

As they docked, her heart was in her throat, but only Wylan and Jesper showed up, warned in advance of her time schedule by a letter. She had sent one to the Slat as well, addressed to Kaz, signed it only, Wraith.

She had not really expected him to come, she realized. He had let her go, and she was relieved he would let her return at her own pace. To be the one who approached instead of being approached. Inej had had quite enough of men deciding when they wanted her attention, showing up and demanding it. She felt Kaz wouldn't.

Dirtyhands would wait.

Jesper and Wylan talked happily all the way to the Van Eck-residence, installed her in her bedroom and apologized that they had an official dinner to attend with the Council that evening they could not skip out on. Inej promised that she did not mind, that they could spent time together tomorrow and catch up, so they could tell her whatever secret they were keeping the lid on. She saw their sheepish smiles, and Wylan rubbed his shirt over his heart nervously. She had noted a lot of inconsistencies in their words and movements, and was fairly sure the secret they were hiding was colorful and etched on their respective chests. As she bathed she reflected on their obvious happiness, the way their souls seemed brighter and more balanced around each other. Inej was very pleased for her dear friends, and intended to let them "surprise her" with the information tomorrow.

Her feet learned the Ketterdam rooftops anew that night, and she fed the crows outside Kaz's bedroom window bathed in the last thin rays of the sunset. The window was open behind her, she had picked the lock immediately, and a soft wind rattled the papers on Kaz's makeshift desk. His chair was still empty, but she could hear the familiar thump of his cane coming up the stairs.

She heard the minute stillness as he stopped in the doorway, noticed her, before smoothly continuing. It was apparently an early night tonight for once, as he already went to the wash basin to strip off his shirt and gloves. Inej could hear the slide of fabric and leather off his skin, and she wanted to turn to admire him in his half-naked glory, but it didn't feel right. She didn't know where they stood, so she waited for him to wash and slip into a softer nightshirt first, before she turned.

"Hello, Kaz," she breathed, and watched the wind play in his dark hair, no longer slicked back and neat after pulling clothing over his head.

"Inej," he said, "you've returned," and she almost melted at his raspy and hoarse voice forming her name. It sounded divine after such a long time. She hopped lightly down into the room to stand right in front of him. His eyes were alert, bright with something she couldn't name, but they were not hostile, or worse, uninterested, bored. She thanked her Saints for this blessing. She could work with this Kaz.

Those coffee eyes locked on her own, and nothing was said. Instead, he offered her a pale hand, ungloved after his washing, and let it hang in the air between them

An unarmored offer.

Inej reach out slowly, hesitant to scare him away, and let their fingertips touch. Her tingled, causing a good kind of knot to form in her stomach, and Kaz swallowed heavily. Still, his eyes urged her to continue, speaking in their quiet language of understanding each other, and she slid her fingers into his.

The moment their palms touched, light sprung forth from their joined hands, lapping like a wave over Inej and Kaz to form a bubble of brightness around them. Inej took a deep breath in surprise as deep fondness and affection swept through her for this wonderfully horrible man in front of her, and laughter bubbled to the surface because of the astonished look on his face.

Kaz smiled when her peals of laughter echoed around the room, as the light slowly receded, but he did not cease to look at her as if she was something precious, something amazing.

Something magical.

--------

If someone noticed that the Wraith that returned to Ketterdam wore wraps of fabric around her hands, covering her palms, then they would assume it was for a better grip while climbing the rigging. No one noticed that Dirtyhands wore his leather gloves all the time – that was a given.

Only in private did Inej Ghafa and Kaz Brekker strip off their armor, to let their palms and the soulmarks on them meet.

[aprilsrant]

Praised be writer’s block | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: in the midst of an upcoming war and worries about the future, (Y/N) bonds with an unexpected person, golden boy from gryffindor house himself.

WORD COUNT: 3,000, more or less…

A/N: this is my first time doing this, so if you have any suggestions please let me know! also, if you can, reblog so it can reach more people, it’ll help me a lot.

All of this wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for @peeves-a-legend​, which btw is an amazing writer. I can’t thank you enough!

Masterlist.

The gif below is not mine, credits to the original maker. And yes, I see robert sean leonard as a young!remus, but you can imagine whoever you want.

In one of the few sunny and warm mornings left of the season, (Y/N)’s mother had dragged her to Diagon Alley to buy her school’s supplies. The term for her sixth year was about ten days away from starting and going there didn’t thrill her anymore. She had retarded the visit as long as her mother’s patience lasted (which wasn’t a lot considering the woman had belonged to Hufflepuff), and no one had been succesfull on finding the reason, althought her mum suspected it. 

(Y/N) hadn’t felt the rush of excitement run through her body in a long time when she thought about going back to Hogwarts, and buying supplies meant she was only a step closer. Her first two years were more than she could ever ask for, but everything came crashing down on her at the young age of thirteen. 

(Y/N) had started to notice the repulsive look on people’s faces whenever she tried to help them, all looking down at her green robes as if she had grown a third arm or a second head overnight. She realised, with now a heavy weight on her heart and a new insecurity over her mind, that not all Hufflepuffs were kind and inviting. Maybe, she supposed, they were too proud to accept help from anyone else. 

Or perhaps, (Y/N) was too naive to think she could defy centuries of old stereotypes and unhealthy competitions while wearing a green and silver tie.

But the rude comments and weird stares had not affected her in such a long time. She didn’t show them how angry she got about those and how much she wanted to scream at those Gryffindors to get over themselves, because if she did, she was proving their point. All snakes, young or old, end up being violent creatures. Instead, a new feeling of uneasiness had settled in her mind, washing away her minor problems.

Peace no longer reigned over the Wizarding World. Rumors of a war were spreading like wildfire. Voldemort’s ranks got bigger and bigger with the passing time, and more muggle families and muggleborns were being wiped out, like they meant nothing. In those dark times, not having magic or being from a family with the wrong kind of ancestors, could determine your doom. 

In her case, she wasn’t at the top of the Dark Eater’s food chain as a halfblood, but that didn’t ease her nerves. She was more worried about her father, a muggleborn, her grandparents and several other friends. Many of their families wanted to go into hiding and she knew that this year and the others to come, Hogwarts wouldn’t be so magical.

Once they passed through the brick wall at the Leaky Cauldron,  their first stop was the Apothecary, which (Y/N) had refused to enter because of the disgusting smell of bad eggs and something more repulsive she didn’t identify. Instead, she decided to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies. It’s not like she played the sport, Merlin knows how awful she was at throwing or hitting things, and playing as Seeker was not an option. But she always attended the matches, channelling every single piece of energy her body had onto cheering for Slytherin’s team. 

(Y/N) made her way to one of the corners of the shop, wanting to see the newest Quidditch gloves her best friend had talked about so much in her letters. Maybe she could get her a new pair for her birthday, so she could start the season with brand new gloves. But looking at the price, she realized a cheappier gift would have to do. Her family wasn’t the richest and she knew her parents were struggling with money lately.

“Expensive, aren’t they?,” asked a voice from behind her. She turned around, one of the gloves still on her right hand, and noticed that the voice belonged to no other than Remus Lupin. She was lying to herself if she said he wasn’t good looking. Those dark brown eyes and soft hair had gotten to her when they were in their fourth year. (Y/N) had spent weeks, maybe even months, crushing on him and, of course, annoying her friends to no end about how perfect he was and how he was one of the few decent members of the lion house. But she never tried anything, she had a long list of excuses that, maybe, exceeded the many numerous reasons why she liked the Gryffindor so much.

“Definitely,” (Y/N) finally answered with a grimace in her face, “I thought I could get a pair for my best friend’s birthday since she’s a Chaser, but I’m not so sure now”.

Remus offered her a small smile and muttered something about how her best friend would appreciate anything she would give her. After that, neither of them said anything and only the noise of other people’s chattering could be heard. She looked around the store, trying to think about something that would lead to more talk, while Remus put his hands in his jeans’s pockets and changed the weight of his body to his left leg. 

A few more seconds passed and (Y/N), not tolerating the awkward atmosphere anymore, was the one to initiate the conversation this time.

“So, um, Remus, are you, um, planning on joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Since, you know, you are… here”. 

Merlin, her sister was right, she did need to start socialising more.

“Oh no, not a chance,” he answered letting a snicker escape his lips. (Y/N)’s mouth turned into a little smile because of the sound, not noticing at first. “I’m just here because of James and Sirius, they wanted to see some new brooms that came out this…”.

Remus words were interrupted by the same people he’d just mentioned. James Potter and Sirius Black, the most known students at Hogwarts, were walking towards them. (Y/N) tried to put on a neutral face, not showing her true thoughts on the two boys.

It wasn’t that she hated them. At some point, she had found her pranks on those horrible Slytherins funny, but after last year her opinion on them changed drastically. It appeared to be that they couldn’t distinguish who were the “good” Slytherins therefore they’d just played cruel jokes on every single member of the house. Or maybe, they didn’t think Slytherins could be nice and decent people, so all of them deserved to be made fun of.

“REMUS!,” they both shouted at the same time. Almost everyone in the shop turned to see them, and as (Y/N) moved uncomfortable with a scowled look because of the new, and unwanted attention, she wondered why they had to be so bloody loud all the time. “We were looking for you, but it seems you have found some company”.

Remus’s cheeks changed to a soft crimson after Sirius’s comment.

“Careful now, Rem, snakes tend to bite and some of them are poisonous.” James’s eyes shined with mischief as he spoke.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at that, but instead of keeping quiet as she normally would, she responded to Potter’s remark, surprising the others and herself in the process.

“Excellent observation, James. Now, how much time did it take you to come up with that and for how long you’ve been wanting to use it? Perhaps, it was after that particular Quidditch match where Slytherin shredded you into pieces ”. 

His face no longer showed a fun expression, but, in it’s place, was a face with narrowed eyes trying to hide the fact he had been caught. (Y/N) smiled at that, she was not this kind of person but it was good to see Potter embarrassed after he had humiliated her in front of half the school just a few months ago. She knew Sirius wanted to say something to save his friend, but as his mouth was starting to open to spill some sarcastic or stupid comment about her house, Remus stepped in.

“Sirius, don’t say anything, just leave her alone,” he began, giving the pair a pointed look with his eyebrows raised, “we were only talking, there’s no need to start acting as if she’s going to bite my head off”.

Dumb and Dumber, as one her Slytherin friends liked to called them, stared at Remus like he had transformed into a Hipogriff. (Y/N), as surprised as she was, glanced at him with a confused, yet somehow grateful, look on her face.  In return, he smiled at her and grabbed his friends from the shoulders, making them walk towards the door while mentioning something about having to meet up with Peter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor. 

Before reaching the door, Remus turned around, let go of Sirius for a moment and waved at her with a grin, one that made her cheeks blushed and her stomach flipped.

|||

It had been months since the interaction between her and Remus, plus James and Sirius. A small smile and a certain glow in her eyes stayed present on her face for the rest of the trip to Diagon Alley with her mother, who had not missed the sudden shift in her daughter’s appearance.

She hadn’t talked much with him again (only a few more times because of their prefect meetings), but the little interactions between them remained. Like the gentle and kind smiles they would send to each other while walking in the school grounds and greetings from afar with a short wave of the hand.

Winter break was just around the corner when they met again. Both wrapped around heavy coats, gloves and scarfs protecting them from the cold wind and the freezing fog. (Y/N) would have been pissed about her feet getting wet from the snow if it wasn’t for the outstanding landscape it created. A pure scenery, grounds and trees and roofs of the castle covered in white, in such terrible and corrupted times. 

“Lovely, huh?,” he mouthed. 

What is it with this boy and sneaking up on people?

(Y/N) nodded, still unable to tear her eyes from the view. When she finally did, she became aware of how close they were, elbows almost touching. Releasing a shaky breath, that quickly changed into what it looked like fog, (Y/N) peered at him. The end of his nose was red, matching his cheeks, while his lips were pale and dry from the weather. It was an adorable sight, perhaps even more worthy of her attention than the snowflakes falling from the sky.

“What makes you go to Hogsmeade on this particular frosty afternoon, (Y/N)?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Remus,” she exclaimed, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she mentioned his name, “but, if you really like to know, I’m heading there because I forgot about some Christmas’s presents. What about you?”

Without perceiving it, they had both started to walk towards the small town, making their way through the layers of snow. 

“I just, um, wanted to visit Hogsmeade one last time before, you know, going home.” For a moment, (Y/N) had the idea of hearing some kind of hesitation while he spoke, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was saying. 

This time, (Y/N) would not let the conversation turn awkward so rapidly, after all this was her chance of having an actual opportunity with Remus. So she swallowed the majority of her nerves, which were quite a lot, and planted a smile on her face. But before the words could come out of her mouth, Remus himself had beat her.

“Would you like to come to the Three Broomsticks with me?,” he questioned. 

It took her a few seconds to understand what he had asked because of how rushed he’d spoken. Her eyes widened at the notion of going on a date with him. Was it even a date? A small voice wondered inside her head. Ignoring it, she replied with a short yes. His entire demeanour immediately transformed. Remus’s eyes didn’t hold too much worry now and a large smile decorated his face. 

The trip to the popular pub was shorter than it normally was, but (Y/N) guessed that had been for how much she and Remus talked while walking to the town. When they arrived, the warm and cozy ambient, although a bit smoky and crowded, received them like a bright lamp post in the middle of nowhere pointing out the pathway. Even if (Y/N) loved winter and snow, a hot butterbeer didn’t seem too bad after being exposed to the cold wind.

Sitting down at one of the tables from the right corner of the shop, right next to a large window and giving the back to one of the walls, she could see the entire place. But her eyes were now glued to the Gryffindor seated in front of her, who was trying not to look like he was going to pass out from the nerves of having a date (was it a date?) with the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts, maybe even the whole world.

They passed the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, chatting regarding the things they loved and hated from Hogwarts; complaining about professors and the amount of homework they sent; laughing because of some ridiculous story told by Remus (he swore his breath got caught in his lungs as he watched her throwing her head back while letting out a loud laugh, eyes shining with happiness and not caring, for the first time, about the looks from the people in the place). They discussed their favourite muggle authors, the most amazing films that had ever been made and their dreams after finishing their education. 

(Y/N) had felt herself falling all over again for him while watching him talk about how much he’d loved being a professor and being there for his students. The passion and shine in his eyes rivaled even the brightest star in the night sky. 

And Remus had seen the same expression in her face when she talked about becoming a known writer in both the muggle and wizarding world. Despite her excitement, he recognised something else in her eyes, perhaps uncertainty or even sadness. When he asked about it, (Y/N) confided in him the fact she was scared about trying it.

“What if it’s a waste of time? What I’m supposed to write about?”

“It won’t be a waste of your time if it makes you happy,” he reassured her, “and the ideas will come to you, don’t worry. You can even write about us.” (Y/N)’s eyes quickly made their way into his after hearing that. “I mean, about this part of our world”. She couldn’t help but feel quite disappointed. 

“Wouldn’t I be violating the Statute of Secrecy?”

Remus raised his shoulders a little as he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to stop a smile from forming in his face. 

“It’s not like the Ministry is going to find out,” he whispered, so only (Y/N) could be able to listen to him, “ who’s going to tell them about it? Me?”

A scoff left her mouth and she rolled her eyes playfully at him. Was this really happening? Remus Lupin, the boy she had a crush on in her fourth year, sitting in front of her, encouraging her to follow her dreams.

“Is the Golden Boy and Prefect of Gryffindor House actually saying that I should just break an International Law?” she joked while shaking her head in disbelief, “McGonagall would be so heart broken”.

Now it was his time to roll his eyes. Directing a smirk at her, he leaned back in his chair, more relaxed and with a new light glowing around him.

“Look, I would love to write about this world. But ambition is not the only trait that got me in Slytherin,” (Y/N) declared. She beamed when he furrowed his brows together in confusion, getting closer to the table and placing his elbows on top of it. “Violating that Law is having a death wish and self preservation is one of my top priorities”.

“I can’t help but agree to that”.

The hours kept running and people began to leave the pub, but not them. They had stayed until the owner told the teenagers he was closing. Not (Y/N) nor Remus had noticed where the time had gone. Quickly, they collected all of their belongings and left the establishment in a hurry. (Y/N) didn’t want to think about the punishment they’d received if they were caught.

Fortunately, they made it to the castle in one piece. Once they were a few meters away from the entrance, they started to laugh. None of them knew why, it just seemed like a good time to do it.

“What happened to you and your advice of breaking the rules?” (Y/N) said in the middle of a laugh.

“I hope this doesn’t become a tradition, Mr. Lupin, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a stern female voice said in front of them. Professor McGonagall was standing gracefully in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a furious expression implanted in her face.

Remus and (Y/N) looked at each other, the same thought running through their minds. They were so screwed.

|||

December 25th.

Dear (Y/N):

I’m sending this letter to wish you a Merry Christmas and a great New Year, even though it’s not the 31st yet, but well… that doesn’t really matter right now.

I remembered you talking about how much you wanted to read more classics, and I couldn’t help myself. Inside the box, you will find Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, and Wuthering Heights, by some other lovely woman named Emily Brontë. I’m not so sure about why you would enjoy them as much as I did, but maybe they’ll inspire you on your journey of becoming a writer. It won’t hurt visiting new worlds to fill your mind with ideas.

Also, and I hope this doesn’t bother you, the books are not brand new. They were read by me and have some marks on the pages, but I don’t like giving new books as gifts. I think that if they were used, they are even more special and hold more value.

Can’t wait to see you once the break is over.

Sincerely, Remus John Lupin.

|||

The grin on her face never abandoned her after reading Remus’s letter and opening the silver paper with golden stars all over it, in which he had wrapped the two books he had mentioned. In fact, it lingered on her for the rest of the day, accompanied with a special and renovated brightness in her eyes.  

Before letting the owl return back to its owner, (Y/N) gave her some food and water, and when it was ready, she attached a small box with red paper on the exterior and a green bow at the top. She had also prepared a gift for him, even if it wasn’t that meaningful (at least, that was what she thought). (Y/N) only hoped he would enjoy the chocolate stash, full with different muggle and wizarding ones she had thought he could try, while the owl stepped away from her windowsill.

Around eight p.m, she finally went to bed and despite spending the day interacting with her family, (thing that tired her out pretty quickly), (Y/N) was more awake than ever before. Laying down on her bed with a cup of tea and an old blanket that had once belonged to her sister, covering her legs, she grabbed one of the books Remus gifted her, ready to dwell in Mary Shelley’s world. 

[phoenix-downer]

The Princess of Light Chapter 3: Falling In

1800 words. Angst, Romance, Fluff, Fairy Tales. For SoKai Week 2021, Day 3.

Summary: Princess Kairi is cursed to be without love when she is a baby. She grows up cold and without a heart to help her understand other people’s feelings, no matter how hard her parents try to help her. One day, however, she meets a mysterious prince from a faraway world, and he just might hold the key to breaking her curse.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Now at last we come to the prince. He was from another world, one that was as hot as Princess Kairi was cold, with warm beaches and yellow sands and salty seas. Naturally he’d heard of Kairi’s condition, as that sort of thing is not something people can keep quiet about, but he had no plans to actually meet her. 

He was on his way to another world, in fact, when his Gummi Ship ran into an asteroid and he had to make an emergency landing on Radiant Garden. As fate would have it, his ship crashed on land the royal family owned, though of course he didn’t know this at the time.

“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing his head as the engine sputtered and moaned and various things that shouldn’t be creaking creaked. “That could’ve gone better.”

But at least he was alive and in one piece. He’d need help to repair his ship though. Stumbling out of the beaten-down vessel, he paused to take in his surroundings. The most delicious scent hit his nose, fragrant flowers and pines, and water bubbled in the distance. A full moon shone overhead, and scattered moonlight danced through the trees.

“This must be Radiant Garden,” he said as he trudged through the knee-high grass. “If I say I’m a lost traveler, someone around here oughta be able to help me.”

The prince followed the sound of the water till he reached a small stream, then took a drink to refresh himself. 

“The water of this world really does seem magical,” he said as he scooped up another mouthful. It tasted delicious and soothed his parched throat. Cold and clean and refreshing. Just as he was about to scoop up some more to pour over his head, a noise in the distance stopped him. It sounded like a young lady crying out, and he ran towards her at once, as princes are wont to do.

When he made it out of the thicket, he spotted a pool of something shimmering and shining in the clearing. And in that pool was a young lady, and that young lady was Princess Kairi. She was laughing and giggling as she frolicked in the light, but of course the prince had no idea of this. Her laughter had no warmth to it, so he thought it sounded like cries for help instead.

“Oh my gosh, she must be burning up!” was the only thought in his mind, and he shouted, “Hang on, I’ll save you!” 

He dove in and scooped her into his arms, and this time she really did shriek, though not for the reasons he thought. He staggered out of the light pool as she kicked and struggled, yelling, “Put me down, put me down!” 

This he did, and she let out a loud “Hmph!” and smoothed her skirts. The grass beneath her feet was already turning icy away from the light, and she knew her skin would soon be “cold.” Of course it never felt cold to her, just normal, but this strange young man would no doubt have complained about its “coldness” if he’d touched her bare arms much longer. Especially if his hand turned to ice.

Now that she’d recovered from her surprise a little, she gave him a closer look. He was about her age, if she had to guess, and wearing clothes from some far-off world. They certainly weren’t the types of clothes people wore here on Radiant Garden. Too light and breezy for that. His spiky brown hair looked like he’d never taken a comb to it in his life, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. 

“What on earth came over you, yanking me out of the light like that?” Princess Kairi scolded. “Don’t you know it’s the only place where I don’t turn everything my skin touches freezing cold?”

His eyes widened as he put two and two together. “So you’re the cursed princess.” 

“Yes, yes,” she said, rather irritably. “I’m guessing you’ve heard of me wherever you’re from.” He wasn’t the first person she’d met who’d gawked at her, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“I have,” he said, “I just… had no idea you’d be this beautiful.”

The prince was already quite taken with the young lady before him. Her red hair reached her shoulders, and her violet eyes were lovely despite their iciness. Without the curse, the princess was naturally spirited and fiery, and perhaps the prince sensed that and saw what she could be if she still had her heart.  

The princess hesitated despite herself. The prince did not seem put off by her manner; if anything, he seemed intrigued. 

“My name’s Sora,” he said, then bowed politely. There was something about the warmth of his manner that intrigued her as well. 

“Well, Prince Sora,” she replied, for she could tell by the way he carried himself he was a prince, “would you mind putting me back where I came from?”

“Oh, back in the light pool?” 

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid that I turn anything that I touch cold, and there are some very nice flowers and grass around us that I don’t want to kill by stepping back in myself.” 

Sora glanced at the ground, and the grass Princess Kairi was standing on had already withered and turned icy. Her feet were bare, and as such there was no clothing guarding her surroundings. 

“Oh, sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to.” 

“Just make sure you don’t touch my bare skin, or you’ll feel cold and get frostbite.” 

Sora held up his hand. “No worries, I have gloves.” 

He scooped her into his arms and noted that she was very cold indeed. But it didn’t matter all that much, for he climbed the little hill over the light pool and jumped in, plunging himself into its warmth along with Kairi. She was intrigued by this, for no one had ever jumped into the pool with her before. Sora had a big, caring heart, especially for someone his age. It provided the weight that she lacked in her heartless state, and that weight made for a much more exhilarating plunge than what she could ever achieve on her own. Soon they were swimming and laughing in the light pool together like old friends.

“Woah, this feels incredible,” Sora said, and he could see why the princess enjoyed it so much. He felt like he was bathing in liquid warmth, and that liquid warmth made him feel like he was floating. He’d heard about this pool before, but the stories didn’t do the reality justice. 

“It does feel nice, doesn’t it?” Kairi agreed as she paddled around.

“Wanna fall in with me again?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye. For the moment they’d fallen in together, he’d experience another kind of falling as well, and pairing the two sensations, the adrenaline rush from jumping off the hill combined with the rush from holding this lovely young lady in his arms, was the most enticing prospect he could imagine. 

“Sure,” Kairi agreed, and he grinned and scooped her up into his arms, carried her out of the pool, strolled back up the hill like she weighed nothing (for indeed without her heart she weighed less than most people her age), and jumped in the pool again as she shrieked with delight. This they repeated over and over again till Prince Sora was quite worn out. Then they just floated in the light pool, enjoying its restorative effects and how it was replenishing their energy bit by bit. They talked, too, about all sorts of things; their favorite books and stories, their favorite foods and the ones they couldn’t stand, how it felt to grow up as royalty. 

Sora was much loved by the people of Destiny Islands, but the people of Radiant Garden rarely got to see or interact with Kairi because of her curse. He felt sorry for her, because how was she supposed to learn how to rule properly without getting to know her people? And setting aside all the ruling stuff, did she really have any friends her age? Or even a sweetheart? She hadn’t mentioned anyone, and Sora was quite eager to know if she’d be open to his advances.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she said, before he could ask. “I should be going home before my nurse or my parents start searching for me.” 

“Please, may I escort you to the castle?” Sora asked. 

“You’d better not. My father is very strict with me. I don’t care two cents about what other people say, but I’ve been scolded for not ‘acting like a princess’ before, and coming home with a strange young man at night isn’t very princess-like.” 

She waded out of the light pool, leaving Sora feeling slightly deflated. He understood why her parents would balk at the thought of her coming home with a young man they’d never met, but he meant no ill. 

“Can I see you tomorrow then?” he pleaded. He didn’t want to leave without the promise he’d get to see her again. Any chance to spend more time with her, to get to know her better, was one he wanted to take. 

She paused, the light gently lapping at her bare feet. “If you’d like to come here again, sure. Falling in was fun. I’d like to do it again.”

He smiled. “Anytime.”

The princess felt a strange fluttering in her stomach that she chalked up to being hungry. That was her only frame of reference for such a feeling. None of her former suitors had lasted long enough to make it past her many barriers, and Sora had a smile that lit up his whole face and made his eyes look even more beautiful than they already were. 

He reminded her of the special pool in a way. Yes, that must be it. He was sunny and warm and cheerful like the pool, so of course her stomach fluttered the way it did.

“Oh, Princess?” he asked as she put her shoes and socks on. Not the proper use of her title, but somehow, she didn’t mind. 

“Yes?” she replied. 

“Where’s a good place to stay for the night?”

Kairi gave her recommendation based on what her parents had told her before, and Sora thanked her politely. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said as he waded out of the pool. With that they bid each other goodnight, and Sora felt that he was very lucky indeed to have crashed on Radiant Garden this evening. He watched to make sure she made it back to the castle okay, then returned to his Gummi Ship for a few more supplies before heading into the castle town.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. 

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy Swordland | Ch 2 | Sacred Arts

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth on the count of three, but you’re not to make a sound! We wouldn’t want to draw any attention to us, now do we, lass?”” The stranger now held a dagger dangerously close to her throat. Amy felt the cold steel against her skin and didn’t dare exhale too deep, terrified it’d cut into her flesh. Unable to nod in agreement, she could only widen her eyes in good hopes the other understood. “One… Two… Three.” She felt the gloved fingers slide away from her now dry mouth. Automatically she gasped and panicked, the sharp lines of the dagger pressing into her throat with every shallow breath. “Good girl. Now, let’s have a chat.” The other said, stepping in to face her, still holding the dagger in place. Amy looked up in astonishment to a creature with a sensual vibe over her. Their manner of speech aligned with the smug grin on her face. She wore a dark coat with fabric that seemed to hug her body in a way that barely left anything to the imagination, her sharp shaped wings the only thing uncurved about her physique. How could she have missed her when she scanned the place? “Then talk!” Amy snarled.

She tried to keep her voice down. The woman pulled back the hood of her coat onto her shoulders, revealing her white skin and big ears. Her lips were full and her two sharp canine tooths drew Amy’s attention.

“Why so rushy? Oh, that’s right! You have to get back to your dorm in time so they won’t notice you’re gone. Imagine all the rumours you’d cause!”

“If you’re so worried about my reputation, you could let me go, you know?”

The bat suppressed her tendency to mockingly laugh in her face and shifted the dagger to her slightly press into Amy’s muzzle.

“You’re too naïve. Ah, where are my manners?! I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.”

“I’ve been wondering about your manners as well.” Amy angrily hissed at her.

“You don’t want to go down that road with me, dear.” Her voice turned dark and serious. “On the topic of manners: it is wildly indecent that a member from a low-rank family such as yourself is in a romantic relationship with a high-ranked knight, who happens to be your trainer as well.”

A cocktail of frustration, fear and disgust roared inside her, sending tremors to her limbs. If she weren’t tied up, she’d teach this woman a lesson.

“…And quite a passionate one I must say.” The bat lowered her eyelids and locked eyes with her, clearly trying to get under her skin. Amy felt her cheeks redden in both embarrassment and anger, feeling exposed and violated by how much this stranger knew about her and Shadow. “H-how much do you know?”

“More than enough to offer you a deal.” “Let’s hear it.” Amy said unwillingly. She added scepticism to the tone in her voice.

“Rouge!”

Shadow rushed in without warning and knocked her over with force, taking both of the females by surprise. He pushed the bat down, one of his hands clenched around her neck, the other pointing out his magnificent sword at her. She struggled to escape his hold and failed, but still managed to cock a smile, unnerving Shadow and Amy.

“So, you’re coming to save the day after all, my lord.” ‘They seem to know each other,’ Amy quietly muttered to herself. “Cut it out!” Shadow yelled angrily. He increased his grip on her. “Are you hurt?” Shadow asked his student. She shook her head at him, never been more relieved to see him. His courtesy towards her sent a rush of adrenaline to her chest. She watched how he confidently moved to master his opponent with his muscular arms. Amy loved how strong and masculine he was, but was suddenly alarmed when she saw this ‘Rouge’-woman seriously struggle to breathe.

“H-hear me out, Shadow!”

“You’re unreliable and corrupt to the core! Give me one reason why I would listen to you!”

A series of coughs and grated voice followed from her almost clenched shut throat in attempt to get him to listen to her. They turned into background sounds when his girlfriend called him to order, afraid he’d push it too far. The grip on her neck reduced at once, grasping both of her wrists instead now. Shadow then lost his balance when she suddenly disappeared underneath him and he tumbled unto the floor. That darn bat with her endless number of spells!

“My, my. It seems you have forgotten how well I know my ways around the sacred arts there, knight.”

Rising to already to lash at her again, he was dumbfounded when he turned around. His girl gasped and let out a high-pitched squeak, seeing how the dagger of the woman lightly scratched her neck. He sighed and lowered his sword. “Put it in the sheathe!” Rouge ordered. Reluctantly he obeyed.

How things could become this ugly in so little time?

“Talk.” He sneered at her, crossing his arms.

“Here’s the deal: you two are going to help me out. I’ve had enough of being an outcast! My clan is on the edge of perishing. There’s not enough food, we’re poor and being used as a doormat, looked down upon and being abused way too long now!”

“How is that our problem?” “I’ll tell you: It became your problem the minute your self-discipline failed you and ya couldn’t keep your hands of this one here.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, disgusted by the way she portrayed him, but didn’t bother to go against it. “But of course, that all depends on how determined you are on keeping this a secret, Shadow.”

“That’s dirty! You are just loving this, aren’t you?” “You think you know me so well! I wished I wouldn’t have to do this, but I have no choice. I have to find the gemstone!” “It’s always been about luxury and prestige with you. If you’d ask me, you got what you deserved.” “Well, I am in fact not asking you, so keep your rude opinion to yourself. This isn’t about jewellery! I’m at the point where I can’t even feed my children properly anymore!”

His eyes widened in shock. He didn't know that she had kids now. “If I had simply asked for your assistance, you would’ve for sure rejected my request- that is IF you even were to hear me out in the first place. There’s no other way for me to get what I want but to blackmail you. Am I wrong?” Rouge’s bright blue orbs glistered even more brightly through the tears that filled her eyes. Amy couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. “Probably not.” He scratched the squills on his head in discomfort. “There’s someone who can help me and my clan to get out of this horrible situation. I need to bring him the infamous turquoise gemstone for his plans to work and the two of you are going to help me, seeing how you’re able to perform special skills and all…”

Shadow seemed to understand what she was talking about.

“What gemstone?”

“Oh, you haven’t told her? This ought to be even more interesting than I thought.”

“The special skill I performed earlier is only a sacred art spell. It’s no big deal.” Amy stated in confusion.  She did not understand what was so special about it.

“And what do you think is the source of the power allowing you to do so?” “I haven’t given it much thought actually.”

“Well then, I’ll assume you are familiar with the legend of the gemstone that was used by greedy men with a thirst of power to let destruction befall our realm in the past. The one they tell you scary tales about in kindergarten, the one which’s tremendous power is a great taboo and the use of it a violation of the law.”

Amy nodded. “That’s the one.”

“That makes no sense! It’s supposed to be sealed away in a faraway kingdom. There’s no way that could be the source of power providing us the magic of the sacred arts.”

“That’s what they want you to believe.” She pointed in the direction of the academy. “Wherever that blasted stone is located, its’ range of power has an enormous scale. Its’ influence reaches our realm, providing a mysterious power, a power all the sacred arts are based on. In fact, you’re not that different from me, a dark mage.” …

“Especially him. He seems to know his way around spells I can’t even decode, let alone perform.” “Nonsense! Shadow would never use dark magic!” “It is in fact true, Amy.” Shadow heaved a sigh. He grunted and let out a soft curse under his breath, shifting his gaze away from Amy when he saw the painful look on her face. This was not the way he wanted her to find out about this.

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

“I didn’t exactly have the time, now did I? Tonight’s the first time I have ever performed a sacred art spell around you. It’s complicated…”

“I’m listening…” “As much as I’d love to listen to the two of you argue, the sun is about to rise. Once your secret is out, you’ll be useless to me,” Rouge interfered. Shadow and Amy shared a glance, silently admitting they did not have a choice but to help her. He unfolded his arms and held out his hand to the bat.

“Wonderful! We’ll meet again here tonight an hour past curfew. Don’t be late.”

Shadow ignored her, hating to be ordered around by anyone but Amy and long wishing for this nightmare to be over. He walked up to Amy and untied her to rub her sore hands, only shifting his gaze up to hers once. She kept eyeing him in a mad way and he knew that look on her face meant trouble for him. “Now warp her back to her dorm so she’ll be back in time, will ya?” “Just because we’ll be working together does NOT mean you are to interfere in our relationship. Stay out of it!” “Heh!” the bat cocked a self-complacent smile. “Relationship…Who would’ve thought?” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders in disbelief and closely walked past them to the ladder, briefly touching Amy’s shoulder. “You’re his weak spot, lass. The only one I could ever find,” Rouge whispered.

The bat spread her wings and flew off into the distance leaving a beaten, chagrined Shadow behind with an upset Amy. Shadows hopes on a calm, peaceful day evaporated like snow on a sunny day when he realized he yet had to spend the day practicing swordfights with her. Reading someone wasn’t one of his qualities, but her offended mood was so evidently present, there was no doubt he misunderstood this time. She brushed off the dust and straw, dressing herself in her cloak. Arms crossed and boldly making him catch her gaze before she left, she made him a wordless promise: she would not go easy on him.

Fire and torments, this is not happening!

_______________________________________

< Previous chapter: read here.

> Next chapter: read here.

________________________________________

My head’s been feeling a little fuzzy over the last few days. I have no idea if this is a good follow-up to the oneshot right now xD Let me know your thoughts and whether you would like a third chapter(: I have written the draft for that already.  Send me a PM for typo’s, ideas or feedback if you will. I am an amateuristic writer and English is not my native langauge^^’ LOL.

[unofficialdiluc]

Within These Bleeding Walls Chapter 3

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Chapter length: ~3.7k

The Mondstadt cathedral’s full second floor was a new addition. The prince of the Abyss had insisted upon it so he could look down at the rest of the city. To say the Abyssal style of architecture clashed with the cathedral’s soaring arches and intricate carvings was to say that ice was cold. Their lines were too jagged, their sense of space and placement offensive. The spiral staircase they’d slammed against one wall interrupted the gorgeous bank of windows and, on sunny days, cast a twisted shadow over the cathedral’s interior.

Now, as Kaeya ascended those steps, all he could hear was the dull pattering of rain on the glass panes. He had never sought out the sisters’ singing in peacetime, per se, but he hadn’t minded hearing it drift on the breeze when he walked by. It would’ve been preferable to this dreary atmosphere.

He nodded at the two heralds standing guard at the top and made to keep going but stopped when their halberds crossed in front of him.

“I have an urgent report on the traveler who has been giving us trouble,” Kaeya said. “Unless, of course, you would prefer I keep that information to myself.”

The guards exchanged looks before they drew their weapons back. Kaeya swept past them and down the hall. There was only one door up here that mattered: the entrance to the prince’s quarters in one of the cathedral’s two front towers. Kaeya knocked on the wood—they could really stand to sand it down—and waited, musing about where the prince would be. Most likely on the balcony, looking out over the execution of the woman who had been the greatest thorn in his side since he crushed Mondstadt under his heel.

His voice came through from the other side: “Come in.”

Kaeya swung open the door. As he did, a cold breeze brushed by him on its way from where it washed over the balcony down the path of least resistance. The prince had the double doors leading onto the balcony thrown wide and was himself standing with his hands on the railing while he looked over the crowds in the plaza.

The familiar elements of his appearance that Kaeya hadn't cared about until a couple of months ago reached him again: pale skin, blond hair kept in a braid, and clothes that, despite their variation, still echoed his sister’s dress in their style.

The prince turned, and it was in his face that their similarities were the most obvious. They had the same eyes, though where Lumine’s had been vibrant and driven, the prince’s were flat and cold. “Kaeya.”

There was some irony, Kaeya supposed, in the rumors he spread actually containing an unintentional grain of truth. He’d just wanted to draw Lumine to Mondstadt so he could finally enlist the help of someone capable of withstanding the Abyssal magic in Diluc’s prison, but lo and behold, he’d actually brought her to the city of the sibling she so desperately wanted to see.

Though he doubted she wanted to see her brother like this.

“Your royal highness,” Kaeya said with a sweeping bow. He stood straight fast enough to catch an odd flash of amusement in the prince’s eyes. “I came to deliver a warning.”

“Concerning the traveler who was spotted walking through the front gates and then never seen again, I assume.”

“We’ve all heard how she is an excellent combatant.” He couldn’t tell whether the prince cared about their connection or even if he knew about it. “Is it so surprising that she can stay out of sight?”

“Without help, yes.” The prince idly adjusted one of his gloves. “The timing is extremely convenient, isn’t it?”

Kaeya’s smile was razor thin. “A fascinating coincidence for sure.”

“She seemed to have no inclination to come this way before someone started spreading rumors that would draw her here. And those rumors serve to bring her here at the same time that we hold this execution—when she has disappeared.” The prince turned back to look down at the crowd but beckoned Kaeya over in the same motion. Kaeya stowed his hesitation when he realized that it was still completely silent outside.

He stopped next to the prince, squinting against the weather. Raindrops caught on his eyelashes. If he could feel cold, he was sure he’d find this unpleasant at best.

The executioner was stepping up onto the platform. He wore armor like all other heralds, but his was more ornate with a half-cape that bore the sigil of the Abyss upon it.

Kaeya resisted the urge to look around. Right next to the prince, that would be a death sentence.

“I’m sure you know what happens if you get too distracted in your free time,” the prince said idly.

“Quite aware,” Kaeya demurred. Where were they? The executioner raised his axe, drawing everyone’s eyes with it.

And then the platform exploded. Arm up to shield his eyes from the shockwave, Kaeya barely caught a glimpse of a small red shape bouncing up from the debris and smoke to snag Jean and start dragging her away. In the next instant, he was wrapping his hand around the prince’s wrist before he could jump over to intervene.

“Come on, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your own security, would you?” He squeezed. Frost crept up the prince’s arm from where Kaeya’s hand made contact. A couple more seconds. “Let’s stay here and observe a little.”

The prince swiftly knocked Kaeya’s hand away before the second surge of ice could come. Kaeya slid out of his reach with an annoyed tsk and summoned his sword, but the prince had done the same and their blades clashed with a ring of steel. In the plaza, screams echoed and magic flared while the resistance crashed the execution and held off the Abyssal forces trying to drive them into a corner. So long as the prince didn’t intervene, they stood a chance of getting away.

“What are you doing?” the prince hissed, pulling his blade back and trying a different angle. As though he hadn’t seen this coming. Did he really think that Kaeya had ever bought into his psychopathy?

Kaeya turned his attack aside and attempted a counter that the prince just backhanded with his free hand. He didn’t see the ice shooting out from Kaeya’s front foot to encase his, though, and his mouth twisted into a scowl when he realized he was stuck. Kaeya favored him with a grim smile.

“What I promised to do.”

He lunged.

The world slowed. A raindrop splashed against his eye. The prince vanished in a dark haze.

Ah, Kaeya realized. Teleportation.

And unlike the mages, he didn’t even need to say the incantation.

Cold steel slid into and through Kaeya’s back. It stayed for a mere moment before the prince yanked it out. Time resumed and Kaeya staggered forward. He hit against the railing, his blood mingling with the pooling rain. His sword fell from his grip and flashed out of existence. Its lingering sparks fell to the ground far, far below before they, too, disappeared.

He started to straighten only for a hand to grab the back of his neck and slam his head into the banister. Kaeya saw stars, and when his vision cleared, he was looking up at the prince, the railing digging into his lower back, and gravity was pulling way harder than it had been. It took him a second to piece together what was going on.

And then he was far more focused on the hand squeezing his windpipe. He brought his left hand up to try to force it off, but the prince’s face remained impassive even as jagged ice wrapped around his arm.

Kaeya pushed harder, but the blood pouring from his middle was sapping his focus and he couldn’t force his magic out against the abyssal energy that coated the prince’s hand.

The prince, though. The prince almost looked sad, which just made Kaeya want to laugh. He hoped his betrayal hurt. He hoped it wounded whatever husk stood in place of the prince’s heart. Hoped his blood stained the balcony and never washed out.

He let his head fall back to see some of the ground below. The plaza was settling down. Jean was gone.

Abruptly, the prince froze, his grip on Kaeya’s throat going slack. His power waned and then returned in full force, but he wasn’t looking at Kaeya anymore. Kaeya followed his gaze to the upside-down horizon just in time to see it light up like the sun was rising a second time that day.

A pillar of fire roared up from Diluc’s temple. It twisted and surged into an infernal tornado that punched into and then through the clouds as steam swirled around it. Even as far away as they were, both Kaeya and the prince could feel its heat wash over their skin. Elation drowned out every ounce of pain in Kaeya’s veins. The smile he turned on the prince was wild and savage.

“Where’s your hostage now?”

In the same breath, he stabbed upwards with the sword he’d called back into his hand. Off-balance from the fire, the prince flinched away and let go. Kaeya’s sword bit deep into his arm instead of his chest, and then Kaeya was falling.

#

Her arms were trembling. Her legs, too. If not for the stubborn determination that had gotten her this far in the first place, Lumine was sure she would have already collapsed. The guardian was heavy, his brief bouts of confused consciousness unhelpful. She was all but dragging him out of his own temple.

The final steps out did her in. She collapsed to her hands and knees in the doorway and heaved her breath. Her skin stung from where her many stumbles and falls had scraped it away. The rest itched and burned. When the room had erupted in fire, she had scrambled to erect one last pillar—this time, with her and the guardian at its center—before the flames consumed them both. The rock wasn’t a perfect shield riddled with gaps and cracks as it was, but it had been enough to keep them alive. Her clothes had made it through with only a few obvious burns, though her gloves and the ends of her dress were singed.

Unusual light registered in her peripheral vision. She pushed off her palms to rest back on her legs and stared in confusion at the sunlight washing over the ashes beyond the entryway. Her exhaustion-fogged mind plodded through all the things wrong with what lay outside the temple doors. Hadn’t there been grass here? Trees? Rain?

Right. Fire. It had probably flared up out here too.

Her head fell again. She dragged in more air. On her right, the guardian was still prone on the ground. He hadn’t reacted to being dropped, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t in a position to treat him with the dignity he probably deserved right now.

“Come on, Lumine,” she whispered to herself. Her arms and legs were as solid as water, but she couldn’t linger. If the Abyss hadn’t felt her tripping all their traps and breaking that magic circle, they’d definitely seen the fire that had done that. They had to move. She turned her head to the guardian again and nudged him with an exhausted hand. “Are you awake?”

To her surprise, he groaned. He moved, too, getting his hands under him and pushing himself up. Lumine caught him before his arms could give out. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she found herself lost in their glowing, spiraling, raging depths. Then he blinked and their light dimmed. His irises were still a bit too bright to be human, their rich crimson a step to the left of natural, but they weren’t the inhuman fires of before.

He narrowed those eyes but didn’t push her away. Maybe he couldn’t. “Who are you?”

“A friend. My name is Lumine.” Her own silent pushes to herself to get moving came back to the forefront of her mind. “Can you stand?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and, with Lumine’s help, got to his feet. He had one arm around Lumine’s shoulders and she had one arm under his. Her other hand was locked around his wrist to keep his arm in place. The guardian was taller than her, making their arrangement all the more complicated to navigate.

“There are caves around here somewhere,” Lumine said while they stumbled their way into the clearing.

“Left,” the guardian grunted. “By the riverbed.”

She followed his instructions. The fire that had scorched the ground by the temple had gone for tens of yards in every direction, but soon, the ground stopped breaking apart into dust under her feet. Damp grass squelched under her heels and the guardian’s boots. At the bottom of the hill was a small riverbed left wet and muddy by the rain. The trickle of water at its center flowed away from the temple.

Here they both paused. Every breath Lumine took rasped in her throat while the guardian was clearly struggling to stay awake.

And then they felt it: a tide of darkness rising behind them. The Abyss. Like a chill on her back, it grew in weight. Looking over her shoulder, all she saw was the remnants of the storm trying and failing to plug the hole the fire had burned through them. Even so, her sixth sense warned her of the darkness hurtling towards them like a tidal wave. A glance at the guardian showed that he sensed it too.

They moved faster. “Can you do that fire thing again?” Lumine asked.

“Fire thing?”

“When I got you out of those chains, the whole temple filled with fire.” She nearly twisted her ankle on a loose rock but recovered. “Wasn’t that your power?”

The guardian furrowed his brows. “Maybe. Their spells sapped my magic for years. When you broke it, you probably released everything that was built up all at once. I don’t have anything left right now.”

Lumine bit her tongue before a frustration-driven comment could escape. She was exhausted and he was barely conscious. Neither of them was in good shape. Fighting their way out wasn’t an option.

Around them, the walls of a narrow gorge rose up and cut them off from the forest. Holes dotted the rock. Caves, large and small, deep and shallow, were carelessly scattered through the stone. They stopped outside one that had a broken piece of tree trunk in front of it. Lumine looked up to see the other half of the trunk barely peeking over the lip of the cliff above.

She let her gaze fall back to the trunk, and an idea struck. “Wait here,” she told the guardian, gently setting him in the cave’s shadows. He wasn’t in any position to stop her as she strode back into daylight.

Her body shook at the prospect of what she had left to do, but it was the only thing she could think of. She found handholds on either side of the broken bit of trunk and began to pull. One step at a time, she dragged the tree down the riverbank, leaving a sizeable rut in her wake.

She walked and walked, one eye on the ground ahead and the other on the creek, which was slowly but surely picking up more water. Several times, she had to stop and catch her breath.

Finally, the water reached a useful level. She hauled the log into the center and let go, then pulled on what dregs of her magic remained.

The pillar punched up into the trunk and shattered it into splinters that the river’s current dragged away. Job done, Lumine let the pillar vanish and retraced her path through that rut. She allowed herself a satisfied smile. It really did look like she’d been dragging a body behind her.

The guardian didn’t react when she returned. She tugged him even deeper into the cave, deep enough that the daylight reached neither of them, and then fell against the other side. Her head knocked against the rock and she hissed in pain, but it was really just one more hurt on a mountain of them.

That sound roused the guardian. His eyes, once again, glowed brightly before he blinked and they dimmed. It was like a mask sliding into place.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Made a fake trail and covered our tracks into here. Hopefully it buys us some time.”

“Time for what?”

“The guy who pointed me to you is going to meet us here.” I hope, she added silently. The guardian regarded her in silence and Lumine realized that she had only ever been thinking of him as the guardian. “You know my name. What’s yours?”

“Diluc.”

“No, um, titles or anything?”

A wan smile flitted across his lips—at least, she thought it did. It was hard to see in the dark. “No.”

“Diluc, then,” she repeated. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Another flash of a smile just as short-lived as the first. “So, Miss Lumine,” the way he said it was at once familiar, “you’ve rescued me, and I’m grateful. But how did you find me, and why now?”

She would have reached up to check that the earring was still there, but her aching arm seized up at the mere thought, so she gave up on it. “I came to Mondstadt to find my brother. There’s a chance he’s in the prison under the cathedral, and I was told I would need your help to break in and get out alive.”

Diluc digested that explanation slowly; his expression had done something strange when Lumine first mentioned her brother but settled back into neutrality for the rest. His gaze shifted to the side of Lumine’s—to the earring—and a furrow dug itself between his brows. “Who told you that, exactly?”

Something in his tone, in the way his posture shifted in the dark, in the minute flare of light from his eyes, urged caution. Lumine stumbled through the beginnings of an answer while she desperately tried to think of a way to safely test the waters.

She was saved from having to do anything by the sound of distant voices. She and Diluc both froze and she crammed her voice deep in her chest where it couldn’t make another sound. At once painfully aware of her breath and her heartbeat, Lumine waited with every sore muscled tensed and ready while an Abyss mage’s wheedling, grating voice grew ever closer. It sounded annoyed and, if she dared think it, even a little scared.

“Come on, faster, you fools!”

Footsteps—lots of them. Abyss mages didn’t walk. Her wide eyes met Diluc’s while the blood drained from her face. If there was a whole platoon of heralds, neither of them was going to make it out alive. She struggled to take down just one of them in a one-on-one. Lumine could only hope that whatever mask he used to hide that inner light stayed firmly in place. Here in the shadows, it would call attention to them like a beacon.

The mage was closer now. “The longer you wait and the more pointless questions you ask, the more powerful he gets! Faster!”

Lumine shared another look with Diluc. Impossible to tell exactly what he was thinking, but Lumine was feeling a bit of relief. An Abyss mage wouldn’t talk to a group of heralds like that, so it had to be something else.

And as those something elses passed by their cave’s opening, her suspicions were confirmed: it was just a mage leading a bunch of hilichurls. Still problematic with her so far from fighting shape, but not absolutely lethal.

They made a hubbub about the tracks changing. The mage tittered at the thought of either Diluc or his companion being fully unconscious, too wounded to walk, or dead. And then it said something about experiments.

Diluc put a hand over his eyes.

After another several seconds, the group moved on. Lumine let out a shaky breath. “They’re gone,” she said, though she kept her voice pitched at a whisper.

Diluc didn’t move his hand. “There will be more.”

“Are you okay?”

Another smile, but this one was too wide. His hand dropped to cover it, revealing his closed eyes. The light of his irises swirled under their lids. After a beat, that light faded and he let his hand fall and eyes open. “I will be, Miss Lumine. Just tired. Are you okay?”

Now it was her turn to smile. It was thin and all she could muster. “I will be.”

They fell into an uneasy silence. Lumine leaned her head back—carefully, this time—and let her eyes close. She didn’t sleep, couldn’t, but she did lose track of time.

Until darkness fell over the cave’s entrance. Catching the change in light, Lumine’s eyes shot open. The shadow moved, stepping into the cave.

Diluc was asleep. Deeply, if he wasn’t stirring like she had.

As Lumine’s eyes adjusted, the silhouette resolved itself into the shape of a man. A familiar man. She used the wall to push herself up to a kneeling position even as her whole body groaned in protest. “Kaeya?”

“Correct,” he replied. “I did say I’d meet you here, didn’t—” he cut himself off with a grunt and staggered. One hand shot out to brace himself against the wall. The other, he held out to forestall Lumine. That calming effect was ruined when she saw it was covered in blood. What looked like ice sparkled on his midsection with what little daylight could reach it.

She stood on shaky legs. “Kaeya, what happened?”

“We need to go,” he managed. “They aren’t taking kindly to the fact that I just tried to assassinate their leader.”

“You what?”

[sallytheseamstress]

HAPPIESTPLACEHQ Task 2 - Sally Finkelstein

Playlist you feel best describes your character

Touch In Mine (fingers) - Esperanza Spalding “Touching surfaces every day Feeling no spark of tenderness within” Sally is a very sensitive person, both physically and emotionally: loud sounds, bright lights, strong smells can overwhelm her easily, as well as angry words and open displays of aggression. That is partly why she keeps to herself, to her routines, to her little comfortable bubble; but as she has become older, Sally finds that this existence is now wearing her down, and has come to realize that, even with the friendship of Jack (who is so often locked up in his own world as well) and Zero (who, much like her, keeps to himself), she craves affection and love that, so far, hasn’t experienced neither from family nor friends.

Like Someone In Love - Björk “Each time I look at you, I'm limp as a glove And feeling like someone in love” Just a little love song that very accurately depicts Sally’s sort of clumsiness towards her own feelings, and how she feels she could express them towards a loved one. It is a beautiful, if rather awkward, way to feel for her, one that sticks to her mind and heart and colors her world, filling her with conflicting emotions -giddiness of being lovestruck, fear of being found out, sadness at the inevitability of vulnerability, hopefulness at the chance of being requited.

Your Woman - White Town “Now I know your heart, I know your mind You don't even know you're being unkind So much for all your highbrow Marxist ways Just use me up and then you walk away Boy, you can't play me that way” Even though this is a break up song between a romantic couple, this could very well reflect Sally and her father’s codependent relationship. With no family beyond him, no other place to go and with her low-paying job, Sally is basically dependent on her father for everything; and, similarly, her father, being in a wheelchair and stubbornly determined on never leaving Redwood Hollow, depends on Sally for everything he cannot do himself. Sally does recognize her father’s brilliant mind, his cultured thoughts, his well-read expertise and knowledge, but even though he spouts a philosophy of mutual aid, of small-town solidarity and community that he passed down to his daughter, Sally knows deep down this is pure bull -when he himself seems to regard her as a slave, something he owns and is in his right to mistreat, withholding any sort of affection or praise or kindness, treating her more like a robot than as a child.

Glory Box - Portishead “Sow a little tenderness No matter if you cry Give me a reason to love you Give me a reason to be a woman I just wanna be a woman” Going back to the first song, what Sally wants most is affection, and that means vulnerability both from her part and from whom the affection comes from. Since she was very little she has learned to keep her emotions in check, not asking for much, never be a nuisance. This has also led to her feeling somehow disconnected from her own self, from her gender and age, as well as from society at large. Now that she has arrived to her thirties, Sally feels like she needs to break out of this subservient position she has been chained to, and that means, in part, reclaiming her own self as a person with autonomy, as someone capable of and deserving of love, and as a woman with the capacity to socialize with others, to be nurturing, to be affectionate; and, as well, partly resenting her status as a woman as someone who needs to fulfill that nurturing role, to provide for her father, to cook and clean and do the domestic chores.

Sounds Of Blue - Morcheeba “A sort of stoned silence Sat on that boat floating out The waters left me open All my emotions fog my lenses” Despite acknowledging her own sensitiveness, Sally isn’t very good with emotions; she knows the basics of comforting, to leave her shoulder free for someone else to cry on, to be available and listen to someone in need; but she is awful at managing her own frustrations and despair, choosing instead to bottle it all. Sometimes, it can feel almost asphyxiating, to be so full with words she can’t pronounce, with nowhere to pour them. This often makes Sally feel even more alone, like a boat in the middle of the ocean. As she grows older, though, she has begun to try her best and be mindful of what she feels; instead of simply allowing the emotions to overwhelm her, Sally tries to question them, to dive deeper and find the root cause, even if that means giving in and having to have a good long cry about it.

Walking In The Rain - The Ronettes “When he's near me, I'll kiss him And when he leaves me, woah, oh, oh, I'll miss him Though sometimes we'll fight, I won't really care And I'll know it's gonna be alright 'cause we've got so much we share” Sally would like to think of herself as the practical sort; but, of course, this doesn’t mean she has a romantic side as well. Being raised by her father, homeschooled, with no distraction beyond books and constantly monitored TV watching, she grew up during her teens with a strong idea of what true love is like: it is instant, it is irresistible, it is everlasting, it is passionate, it is destined... As an adult, she knows this isn’t realistic at all (especially having witnessed, from a distance, the romantic troubles of the rest of the town); but a part of her still wishes she could be whisked away by a prince, somewhere far away, to an idyllic world of tenderness and freedom.

Good Morning Heartache - Billie Holiday “Stop haunting me now Can't shake you, no how Just leave me alone I've got those Monday blues Straight through Sunday blues” Kind of a byproduct of her buried-deep-down idealizations of love, and her repressed emotions and expectations, the weight of Sally’s loneliness can sometimes pull her down to periods of depression. As a full-time worker, both as her father’s caretaker and in her work at Jack’s Attic and in the Community Events Committee, Sally often has to put on a happy face to deal with the daily grind; but, once she has some time alone, she either tries to keep herself distracted, or gives in to that despair for as long as she can allow herself to.

Les Fleurs - Minnie Riperton “For all of these simple things and much more, a flower was born It blooms to spread love and joy, faith and hope to people forlorn” Most of all, Sally feels most comfortable in nature: as at home as she is in her own house, it also feels, increasingly so, as a place of repression, lack of change, and constant surveillance. Nature, especially Redwood Park and the surrounding woodland, feels to Sally as the place where change is required, where it is most clear, where it is most, well, natural. Whether it is a rainy day with the air thick with humidity and the tension of a coming thunderstorm, a sunny afternoon having a small picnic at the shade of a tree in full bloom, or a lovely, glittering snow morning, snowflakes falling quietly and magically from a cotton-clouded sky, Sally loves it when she can be outside, forget about her responsabilities and duties, and focus on the sensation of the world, the real world, around her.

Day Dreaming - Aretha Franklin “He's the kind of guy that would say Hey, baby, let's get away Let's go some place, huh Where I don't care” This is also a continuation of her own ongoing matureness and acknowledging of how she tends to idealize the idea of love. Sally tries her best to reject her old teenage conception of a prince coming to sweep her off her feet, but at the same time, especially when she can allow herself some time to doze off and daydream, she still nurses that little hope that, whoever it is that will come along and give her the affection she wants so bad, will wish, just as she does, to explore the world beyond Redwood -it doesn’t matter where, since they would be together, mutually helping each other in their struggles, loving and trusting each other, and that would be everything they would need.

Please Don’t Make Me Cry - Lianne La Havas “I'll try to let it go, my fingers are crossed I show you my pretty scars, they make us whatever we are” Sally knows fully well that she comes with a good deal of issues, and that’s what scares her most when considering pursuing a romantic relationship. She is, however, aware enough of her traumas that she feels she could be honest about it -of course, as long as she manages to not let herself be drowned by them. Honesty is a very important quality for her. The only problem, then, is that while Sally truly wants to confess just how much she feels what has happened to her, she is still afraid to intimidate someone else, to be seen as “high-maintenance”, as someone hard to love. Once more, while love is her goal, vulnerability is her greatest fear.

[artificialqueens]

Wings (Bitney) - Cheetah

Summary: In a world where the first tattoo you get will also appear on your soulmate’s skin, it’s difficult to fit in when romance is the last thing you want. Courtney never got her tattoo with the intention of finding her soulmate, and yet, they are still led to one another by those ink-dark feathers.

The world was not made for them, but perhaps it never needed to be.

A/N: As much as I love sweet, fluffy romantic stories, there’s always been a part of me that yearned for there to be more aro rep in fic. Of course, the best way to get what you want is to write it, so here it is: my first fic centred around aromanticism, framed through the lens of a soulmate au.

The soulmate au felt a natural choice because of how typically romance-centric they are; I wanted to flip the script and create a universe where aromantic soulmates were possible. I chose not to remove the inundation of romance in society, because that is something a lot of aros have to deal with and I wanted to represent that.

Also, this fic is set in the same universe as One Direction (To Your Heart), but it’s not necessary to have read that to understand it. All you need to know is that Bianca is the head of her own fashion label, and Courtney is one of her models.

Enjoy!

Ao3 // my blog

“Fuck.”

The wings. Courtney has the wings.

“Bianca? Are you okay?”

They’re right there, inked across her back, feathers arranged in perfect rows. The sight of them makes Bianca’s stomach turn, and she doesn’t reply for a long moment.

“I’m fine,” she says eventually, her tone clipped, even harsher than it usually is. “Just remembered something.”

She tears her eyes away from the tattoo, feeling like she’s going to be sick.

Courtney has the wings.

The same wings that appeared on Bianca’s skin two years ago.

“Courtney, I’m going to need to see you in my office before you go home this afternoon. It’s important.”

“Okay, but–”

“Be there.” Bianca doesn’t give her the chance to ask any questions before she turns on her heel, leaving Courtney standing with her dress half-zipped, green eyes glimmering with confusion.

~

The dress is beautiful. It fits Courtney like a glove, shimmering with pale sequins that catch the light every time she moves. But whenever she looks in the mirror, she can’t stop herself from turning around, peering at the delicate feathers fanning out across her shoulder blades, exposed by the low cut of the dress.

The ink burns her back, digging deep claws into her skin. Her tattoo is beautiful, and she wouldn’t change it for the world, but… still, sometimes she regrets it. She regrets visualising the possibility that there could be somebody out there who is supposed to be hers. The wings make it - make them - real, tangible, and the idea of them hurts Courtney’s soul, hollows it out until she isn’t sure who she is anymore.

Is she wrong for not wanting them? The world tells her she is, fires it at her from all angles, and yet nothing she does can fill that emptiness in her chest.

She has seen how her friends’ faces go dreamy whenever they talk about their soulmates, and every time, Courtney has to force a smile, her happiness for them dulled by the discomfort pooling in her stomach. Looking at her ink-dark wings, she wonders about the person who shares them. Will they paint that dream-touched look on her face, too? Courtney can’t quite fathom it.

And when she asks what it’s like, everyone always says her soulmate will complete her, tells her that they will fit beside her like a puzzle piece; that she will find everything she never knew she wanted wrapped up in their perfect smile.

Courtney simply can’t see her hopes and dreams existing as a person. She doesn’t like the idea of being better thanks to somebody else - she’s Courtney Act, and as far she’s concerned, she’s just fine the way she is. Needing someone else to reassure her of that, to fill in the missing pieces of her soul, feels stupid. Childish, almost. Like being a teenager and watching all her friends fall in love, wondering why she was never enough to be their first choice.

She turns away from the mirror, wrapped in a familiar discomfort that has long since started to feel like home.

~

Bianca startles at the sound of knocking.

“Come in,” she says gruffly, glancing at the clock, only just noticing what time it is.

Shit.

“You said you wanted to see me?”

Bianca’s gaze snaps up, meeting gentle green eyes and a soft smile. Her heart twists at the sight.

“I did,” she replies stiffly, waiting as Courtney helps herself to one of the empty seats opposite her.

So this is her soulmate. Courtney is generically pretty, with a petite frame and luscious hair like the models in magazines and shampoo advertisements. Still, she radiates a genuine warmth and friendliness; she doesn’t seem to be intimidated by Bianca in the slightest, which Bianca supposes is something she can appreciate.

“Okay, look, this is going to sound really stupid. But just hear me out, alright?” Bianca takes a deep breath, quickly revising what she’s planned to say. She’s been mulling over it all afternoon, ever since she left the dressing rooms, but she still feels completely unprepared.

“It’s fine,” Courtney assures her. “Say whatever you need to. I’m listening.”

Bianca steels herself, vacating any shred of expression from her face until all that’s left is a cool, collected emptiness.

She might as well get this over and done with.

“You’re my soulmate,” she says bluntly. “I saw your wings when you were doing the fitting this morning.”

She pauses to gauge Courtney’s reaction and it’s… strange, to say the least. Bianca watches as her eyes go wide and the colour drains from her face. The clock ticks on the wall - one second, two seconds, three - but Courtney remains silent, motionless.

“I’m just going to say this upfront,” Bianca continues, when it becomes clear Courtney has nothing to add. “I have no interest in you, or whatever magical bond is supposed to make us fall in love for the rest of our lives. Destiny means shit to me, and if that matters to you, you can fuck off and go cry somewhere else. Tissues are there if you want to take one on your way out.”

She doesn’t look at Courtney again. She doesn’t think she’s ready to see the hurt she’s plastered all over that delicate face. The words had come out harsher than she’d intended - more defensive, as though Bianca is a cornered animal - but there’s no turning back now.

Courtney surprises her by breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she says, sounding like an immense weight has just been lifted from her shoulders.

“Are you fucking deaf?” Bianca snaps. “This should not be a good thing for you.”

“But it is!” Courtney replies delightedly. “Something about this whole ‘soulmates’ thing has always thrown me off, and I guess… it’s nice to find someone that thinks like that, too.”

Bianca takes a moment to eye her up and down. She’s lying - she must be lying. Bianca has never met another person who hasn’t been obsessed with the idea of finding their other half.

“I’ve just never found romance that interesting,” Courtney elaborates. “It doesn’t appeal to me. It never has. I like to think I’m perfectly fine without some fated love to complete me.” She says the words with a casual air about her, but Bianca can still hear the bitterness grating between her teeth.

It feels painfully familiar, and Bianca has to take a stunned moment to replay Courtney’s words in her head. She has never heard her own thoughts - and such deeply personal ones, at that - come out of another person’s mouth, and she certainly never imagined her own soulmate would be the one echoing them back to her.

“But then, if we’re soulmates… what does this mean for us?” she asks quietly, shock and caution laced in every word.

Courtney smiles, taking Bianca’s hand in both of hers.

“You know what? I think that’s up to us.”

~

“So we’re soulmates.”

“I thought we’d established that already.”

Courtney coughs awkwardly, staring into her steaming mug of tea. Bianca’s abrasive personality still isn’t something she’s used to, but she finds she doesn’t mind it.

She glances up again, meeting Bianca’s eyes. They’re a warm brown, speckled with gold, and they remind Courtney of sunny Christmases in Australia: of long, shiny days, of sitting out in the backyard as the sun sets and her family downs cartons of beer together. She can’t help but smile, and Bianca’s gaze darts away again, but not before Courtney’s catches the odd mix of confusion and intrigue in the depths of her eyes.

She knows there’s a softer side to Bianca under that tough surface. She’s seen it already, in Bianca’s quiet hesitance on the drive back to her apartment, and in the gentleness with which she gave Courtney her tea.

“You know,” Courtney says, shattering the tense silence that has settled around them, “I’d kinda been hoping that this - the wings - that they wouldn’t really be a soul tattoo.”

“Why’d you take the risk, then?” Bianca asks. “If you’d kept your skin clear, you’d never have to worry.”

It’s apparent that that’s the path Bianca chose, and the path she’d hoped her soulmate would choose, too.

“Unfortunately, I find tattoos pretty and wanted to get one regardless,” Courtney tells her. “I didn’t get it with the intention of finding you… I just liked it.”

“Well.” Bianca clears her throat. “That was a stupid idea.”

Courtney laughs. “What, don’t you like me?”

Her chest hums in pride when Bianca smiles, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

“You caused me two years of grief, so I can’t say I do,” Bianca deadpans, but she’s still smiling. Despite that, Courtney knows exactly what she means, hears the quiet honesty behind her words.

Romance has been an ever-present force in her life: something that Courtney has tried and failed at running from, time and time again. It was in her childhood, in the sugary cartoons filled with matching tattoos and happy endings. It was in her adolescence, when her friends left her behind for their first taste of love even before they were tattooed. It follows her now, as the people around her find their soulmates and dive into relationships Courtney has never been able to see for herself.

So, of course she knows what Bianca means. The wings always represented the possibility of there being someone else, someone out there who was supposed to be hers. They represented the inevitable heartbreak that Bianca had clearly been expecting when she called Courtney into her office earlier that afternoon.

Except that didn’t happen, and now they’re here, sitting across from each other at Bianca’s dining table.

“Do you think it’s destiny?” Courtney blurts out.

“What?”

“Destiny. I - I always thought this whole soulmates thing would force me into a relationship I don’t want and a love I can’t feel. But it hasn’t, because… you’re like me.” Courtney swallows thickly. “I’ve never met anyone else like me.”

“Neither have I,” Bianca replies quietly.

There’s a long silence. Courtney counts her heartbeats.

“Maybe it is,” Bianca finally says, meeting Courtney’s eyes again. “Destiny, I mean. Have you ever heard that ‘your soulmate is tailored to you’ bullshit?”

Courtney nods.

“Maybe there’s something to it,” Bianca admits, a slight frown tugging at her lips. Courtney knows how she feels - it’s weird, rethinking everything she thought she believed. But it’s a good kind of weird, especially now that she has Bianca. Someone who understands.

“I’m really happy I found you, Bianca,” Courtney murmurs.

Bianca smiles, and it shines in her eyes like fairy lights.

“You know what? Me too. You’re not so bad after all, Miss Act.”

Courtney laughs. “I’ll take it.”

And in this moment, sitting across from Bianca - her soulmate, she thinks, not without a little newfound wonder - she feels like everything might just turn out alright.

[tired-college-student-writing]

If you're into Black Butler, maybe something with that and Miraculous ladybug? Or Black Butler with Demon Bim? I just think you'd do a good job with the Black Butler characters.

Oh boy! I just finished rewatching Black Butler actually! I had forgotten how much I loved the show. So here’s a bit of Miraculous Ladybug/Black Butler :D

ASK BOX IS OPEN SEND ME PROMPTS

________________________________________________

Marinette was different. 

Her family tried to keep her oddities to themselves when they could as the few that found out had branded their daughter as a freak, making the usually sweet girl’s icy glare freeze their very souls before they would leave and never talk to her again. 

When she was born her parents were shocked to see she not only had a sapphire blue eye, but her right was a transfixing purple as well. The doctors had said they should fade into more usual shades as she aged but they never did. Heterochromia they called it, when the eyes were different colors due to a mutation in how the melanin concentration in the eyes, but it was nothing to worry about and about 1% of the population had heterochromia in one form or another.  It didn’t stop Marinette from showing a clear disdain for anyone looking at her purple eye.

By two she was speaking in full English sentences which would have just been advanced for her age if they ever spoke anything, but French and Mandarin around her. But it wasn’t just English no, she could perfectly speak French, Latin, and German with little effort on her part. Never truly understanding why people would look at her strangely when such a small girl would be able to use five-syllable English words in normal conversation. 

When she was five her parents saw the first major mood shift. Chloe Bourgeois, the little terror, had been placed in the same class as Marinette. The girls were at odds from day one, but three months into the school year Chloe had tripped little Nino and almost landed him right into traffic. The sunny little girl had flipped in an instance, ripping into the other girl with the ferocity of a black mamba, controlled strikes verbally reducing the bully into shocked and fearful tears as she tore into everything from the girls clothes and hairs to her parents failing marriage and her father’s inability to fulfill his the campaign promises. She had then turned to Nino who was watching with wide shocked eyes and melted back to the soft caring girl she normally was, fussing over him and basically ordering him to come to her house so her mom could check over his scraped knee. It was months before Chloe said anything negative in front of Marinette for fear of the same attack, only it didn’t come, just earning a scowl and the usual banter that the blonde had come to expect from the baker’s daughter. It seemed there was a line for how far Marinette was willing to let Chloe go, and the blonde was careful never to toe that line. 

When she turned six her hatred of others seeing her right eye had reached its peak as she continued to make makeshift eyepatches out of anything she could get her hands on. Finally, her mother had taken her to the ophthalmologist to get colored contacts, to hide the purple hue. The ophthalmologist hadn’t wanted to give her contacts until her face had faded from the bright smile into a blank mask and she ran through the care and instructions that she had already known on contacts. The doctor decided to just hand them over after that. A blue contact for one eye and a clear one for the other with the prescription that fixed her lacking depth prediction. A single icy glare that nearly bordered on the one she gave Chloe many moons ago stopped any of the students in her class from commenting on her now same colored eyes.

At eight her parents noticed her new ‘friend’. A raven that seemed to have made a nest on her balcony, well maybe not a raven if the blood-red eyes had anything to do with it, but the lack of white tips on its wings ruled out anything else other than a hybrid.  They decided it better not to ask why this raven had roosted there as Marinette grew oddly attached to it quickly, though it was an odd bond they shared. Marinette could often be heard talking to the raven in English as if conversing with it, but gone was her normally cheerful demeanor, instead she would snark and ridicule the raven as if it was an unruly child. In turn, the raven would caw, peck at her and swat her with its wings. At the same time, however, they undeniably cared for each other. Marinette always made sure that the nest was warm and dry, though she never offered food to it, simply taunting the pastries in front of it with a remark about how they tasted so much better than ash.   

 The raven took great care to bring trinkets back to the girl, expensive items it had no way of getting, jewelry, sets of high-end buttons, the finest threads, rich untouched chocolates, once they even found an entire bolt of new fabric on the balcony. If it wasn’t for the cameras they had installed after that event they would have feared someone was visiting their little girl, but the raven was the only visitor to the balcony. Marinette was smart however, knowing where the holes in the camera's view were before they had been there for two months. She had been offended that they thought she would accept presents from strange humans. They relented that they trusted her and that she was a bright young girl but kept the cameras up. 

They asked her about her comments of ash and she didn’t remember ever saying anything like that. 

They asked her the raven’s name and she got a far off look in her eyes before she came back and said she doesn’t remember. 

Tikki appeared when she was thirteen and the little goddess almost recoiled in horror at the dark twisted magic radiating off of the girl chosen to be her holder. Demonic energy, nauseating to see this close around a soul so pure.  The book being swung at her and high pitched screech was the only thing that convinced Tikki there hadn’t been a mistake. The magic was too intertwined with her soul for it to be a new development, for her to have sold her soul in this lifetime.  No this was a deal that never got sealed, never allowed for the demon to consume her soul. It didn’t take her long to locate the raven on the balcony. They came to an agreement of mutual distance, realizing they were both here for the same reason to be here, to keep Marinette safe. 

During the Akuma battles where the heroes’ win is a close call, and her miraculous cure is stretched to the limits from bringing back countless lives, there was often a flash of red in the corner of her eye, simply waiting off in the distance to see if she could pull off the save once more.  Sometimes it would be replaced by a silent black figure or a golden blur, but they were always there. Simply waiting, watching. The raven always seemed more ruffled on the days the red was around. 

It wasn’t until near her 14th birthday did an Akuma come along with the power of fire, did something change. The Akuma was tall and black as night, swift and dancing like the flames they created, willing to kill and burn all of Paris down with them. Cheated on, backstabbed and burned, the woman wanted all of Paris to feel the pain her ex-girlfriend had made her feel. Each human that burned turned into its own flame beast, with the single-minded 

They had been chasing the victim through the streets when they rounded the corner. The bakery was engulfed in flames, inky black smoke billowing from the windows. She felt her heart leap into her throat. Her head screamed at her to run, they were coming for him, how her parents were dead, he wasn’t safe. Why was he out of the manor on her own anyway? He needed to get back, the servants would keep him safe. He needed to find-

Her mind snapped back into place as she realized the implications of her thoughts. Of his memories. 

“Are you alright?” The voice in front of her made her register the black figure in front of her, Chat Noir. Her knight. It seems as if she has one every lifetime. 

“Yes,” She said firmly, pulling away, “But I think it’s about time we got some assistance.” 

“Need to go get a miraculous?” He asked, knocking some advancing flame beasts back with his staff. 

She shook her head taking a step back as he kept her safe and tossed her yoyo as high as she could, no miraculous would help now. This victim was nothing short of a demon, and to fight a demon…

“Lucky Charm!” She shouted, catching the item and began pulling out her contact before she even looked down at the red and black contact case, filled with contact solution. 

“M’lady?” 

“Chaton,” She said with firm determination, turning her two-toned eyes to him, “I’m going to do something that will seem very strange and might scare you but please trust me.” 

His eyes were wide and tail lashing, but he didn’t hesitate to nod his head, never faltering in keeping the beasts away, “Of course, Bugaboo.” 

“Don’t call me that,” She snapped, voice slipping into English, before turning her eyes to the burning remains of her rooftop, “Sebastian, get down here you bloody mongrel. Don’t make me order you.” 

A large black blur flew from the nest she couldn’t make out anymore due to smoke, swooping high into the air before shifting in and gliding down, the once raven now kneeling in front of her, a cunning smirk pulling on the man’s lips, “Sorry for the wait mistress.” 

He was exactly as he was before, silky black hair falling elegantly around his face, framing the burgundy eyes that burned into her as they did the day they had made the contract. The only thing that changed was his clothes, gone was the tailcoat, polished silver pocket watch and crisp white gloves of a victorian butler, replaced by a sleek black suit and white button-down, black nails on display along with the sealing mark on the back of his hand. 

“Best to keep it, my lady, while I’m transformed. You couldn’t tell me the truth before, because…” She trailed off in question, eyebrow quirked. 

“Memory restoration requires a strong emotional response that plays on memories of your first life, my lady,” the demon gave her an innocent look as he rose, “I didn’t think you would appreciate me burning down the bakery before Miss Tikki could repair it.” 

“Sebastian,” 

They turned to look at the cat who had frozen beside them, noting the thinness of his pupil. 

“Chat,” Ladybug said slowly, “This is Sebastian, an old… friend of mine. He can help us.” 

“I-” Chat suddenly leaped forward, staff striking out between Sebastian and Marinette to knock away the beast that had appeared there, darting between them to continue fighting. 

His footwork had changed, becoming lighter than before as the ferocity grew. 

“Of course,” He spat, accented English spilling out of his lips, “Of course Sebastian was never human! I should have guessed,” 

“What?” 

The green eyes were sharp as they turned to the stunned pair, “Are you going to help me, Sebastian? I’m guessing that’s why my lady called for you. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together before! No human could run the manor as you did, I heard stories of the impossible feats you pulled but never did I think, ugh I’m an idiot!” 

Marinette couldn’t help but gape and she could see her butler’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline from the corner of her eye as she sputtered out, “Lizzie?!?” 

The blond just glared at her as she batted another beast away, “Ceil, I love you dearly but we’re going to have a serious talk about keeping demonic secrets from your fiance. I don’t care if it was a lifetime or three ago, we’re going to talk once the fires are gone and Sabastian if you think for a second you’re getting out of it, you are strongly mistaken. Now let’s finish this.” 

“Right,” Ladybug spoke slowly in French, “Head in the game Chat, yell at me later.”  

He shook his head as if to clear it, before returning to their normal tongue, “Right, sorry Elizabeth’s memories hit me like a brick wall... It is nice to see you, Sebastian!” 

“Likewise,” The demon hummed, tossing a flaming demon away.

The victim was easy to seduce with Sebastian at their side, the purple butterfly mask flared early on into the fight leaving the victim terrified as if Hawkmoth knew what Ladybug’s purple eye meant and what the man at their side was. Ending the battle was short work. 

“Pound it!” The teens cheered only for Marinette to turn a sly eye at Sebastian, “You two, Sebastian.” 

The demon raised a challenging brow, “Really now? How childish.” 

“Exactly why I want you to do it,” The sugary sweet smile held a hint of cruelness in it, “You’ll feel like a fool doing it, now come here.” 

The demon’s eye twitched but he raised his fist either way, “You haven’t changed at all.” 

[aveyna]

A Mild Crossing

Summary: “Ah, right…” Hugo falters, shooting Varian an inquisitive look, only to find the alchemist on the verge of a breakdown. “He’s my husband."

Note: It was supposed to be completely silly, but then...angst and misunderstandings galore. 

AO3 LINK

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“What is that thing? It’s hideous.” Hugo narrows his eyes, crouching down until he is at face level with the creature clutched in Varian’s hands. It was a small looking…person, even shorter than Varian and Yong of all people. They had been on their merry way past this bridge crossing, until…this awful abomination had tried to rob Hugo of his well-earned [and certainly not stolen] coins.

 The others had cooed over this creature, but not him. No, he can see straight through its thinly-veiled lies.

 “It’s a baby,” Varian deadpans.

 “A…baby?” Hugo says, rolling the words on his tongue. Whatever this creature is, it has besmirched the good name of thievery.

 “Do you seriously not know what a child is!?” the shorter alchemist shoots him a scathing look, thrusting the…weird humanoid looking creature into his unwilling arms. “Hold onto them for me, and Hugo…do not drop them.”

 “What do you take me for, hairstripe? Of course I know what…a ‘child’ is.” His bespectacled gaze falls onto the creature. It looks up, two large, orb-like eyes staring at him. Absolutely hideous, is what this thing is.

 The smaller alchemist merely glowers, clearly unimpressed. But, Hugo, no, he can handle this. “Of course I’m not going to drop…it.”

 But he would in a heartbeat if he could.

 At this, Varian spins on his feet, turning towards their star navigator. “Nuru, have any idea where the closest town is?”

 “We’re about an hour away,” Nuru beams. “It could be less if…we don’t run into anymore obstacles or get sidetracked.

 The princess pointedly redirects her words towards Hugo and Yong, the latter of which looks positively ecstatic over the little monstrosity. There is a spring in his step as he practically hovers in his joy. He is beaming, but the sight is disturbing, as if he were a rainbow in the form of a person. A chill runs down Hugo’s spine as he visibly represses a shudder at this horrific turn of events. There is no modicum of reason or sense to this madness—

 As he raises an eyebrow at Yong’s antics, he wonders exactly how the younger boy had gone completely insane…well, moreso than usual, at least.

 Really, he can expect this kind of behavior from Nuru, if that whole debacle with the seal was of any indication, no, wait; these three idiots are all one hundred percent at fault. It is an aberration, this whole mess he had stepped into. Hugo…he is seething on the inside, as he nudges Yong away with his foot. One tiny bug eyed ‘human’ is more than enough; he does not need the pyromaniac anywhere near his close vicinity.

 Why is he doing this again?

 Hugo averts his gaze towards the sky. It is brilliantly bright, dazzling so—a light shade of blue that pales in comparison to the color of Varian’s eyes and…right. He will suck it up and deal with this…thing, if it means he can spend another day with the alchemist. Hugo’s lips quiver up in a faint smile, gazing fondly at Varian and Nuru, the former of which is hiding a laugh behind his gloved hand.

 These days seem like a dream. He almost hopes it were, so that…he would not have to betray them, his…friends?

 As he listens to these ‘friends’, these band of misfits, he wonders—would Varian still look at him kindly after his betrayal? Would he extend an arm in forgiveness, smiling as tells Hugo ‘it’s alright?’ Or would his blue eyes be clouded over in pain and doubt, the sting of betrayal forever shattering the fragile bond they had carefully built up these last few months? What then…what would he do if they had to part? He is sure Varian would not agree to work with him, to work with Donella…the woman who was involved in his mother’s disappearance.

 Afterall, she was the reason as to why he went on this journey in the first place.

 Hugo knows he will shatter. His heart will crumple like stone if [once] his true colors are revealed to Varian. There is a possibility Varian could die, but if he must, it will be by his hand.

 “Hey, Hugo, you alright?” Kind, large blue eyes look up at him in concern. It is a kindness that he does not deserve, not when he will be responsible for the pain inflicted upon them one day.

 The taller alchemist turns his head towards Varian, a wry smirk plastered on his face. He sweeps one arm in a grandiose gesture, making sure to not drop the dead weight that had attempted to steal his coins in the other. “Were you worried about me, goggles? How sweet of you. I’m touched, truly, I am.”

 It’s cute in a way, what with how Varian denies his concern—sputtering insults at him while he stomps to the head of the group. Hugo watches as Nuru places a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, turning around and narrowing her golden eyes at him. He cannot help but laugh as she points two fingers from her eyes towards him. The concern…it is endearing. She is yet another person he would hate to disappoint.

 These turn of events are harrowing. Here, he was, going off on an adventure with the enemy.

 Even with this evil looking creature bundled in his arms, Hugo would not exchange this moment for all of the gold in the world.

 ---

 Hugo is not sure how this has happened. Upon reaching town, Nuru had stormed off, dragging Yong with her. Something about needing a new telescope and using Yong’s cuteness to get a discount…eh, but what does he know? The princess works in mysterious ways, but at least this would mean he’d finally get to spend time along with Varian—

 Is what he would say, were it not for…it. Whatever this creature is. Man, he really did hate children.

 “I know you two are getting along, but c’mon Hugo, we don’t have all day.” Varian rolls his eyes, playfully punching Hugo’s arm as he walks ahead, pointing in the direction of a plain white building covered by a well-maintained wooden gate. An abundance of brightly colored flowers adorns the building…it seems absolutely cheerful and not how he expected this date to go.

 His eyes are surprisingly directed elsewhere as Varian drones on. Normally, he would listen with rapt attention [while pretending to ignore the shorter alchemist], but it is impossible to enjoy this moment. Not with this weird looking creature placing its grubby little paws on his glasses.

 They’re more expensive than everyone in this group [sans Nuru, of course]. No one touches the glasses. Not this ‘baby’ and not even Varian.

 “We’re here.” Varian had lightly tugged at his sleeve, goading him to follow up to the door in suit. Hugo easily relents. He’ll follow, at least whenever Varian is concerned.

 “Okay, just follow my lead—”

 Varian’s blue eyes trail over his arms, mouth agape and skin ashen-gray. If Hugo was not a realist, he would have sworn the younger alchemist had seen a ghost.

 Though, surprisingly, his arms do feel surprisingly light.

 “Hugo where did the baby go!?” Varian screeches, spinning on his heels as he grabs Hugo by the shoulders. “You had one damn job!”  

 A smile tugs at the corner of Hugo’s lips. Finally, he is free…freed from this awful menace of a creature. “What’s a baby—?”

“Finish that sentence and I will smack you upside the head…sweetheart.” At this, Varian smiles, but…it seems forced. His eyes are wide, panicked. “Hey, Hugo, dear, remember what we’re here for?”

 Normally, he’d be appreciative of this attention. But now? As Hugo turns his head, he…short circuits. Soft, green eyes and a round face surrounded by bouncy red curls. She seems quaint and kind, though with her feet tapping against the hardwood floor, he knows the woman is moments away from slamming the door on their faces.

 “Ah, right…” Hugo falters, shooting Varian an inquisitive look, only to find the alchemist on the verge of a breakdown. “He’s my husband.”

 What.

 What.

 What the—what did he say!? What has he done!?

 “We’re married.” Ah, yes. He had to go and make it worse. At least Hugo had gotten to say the magic words before he met an untimely and completely just end.

 He turns his eyes towards Varian. There is a luminescent blush on his face, or perhaps, it is anger. Hugo knows that as soon as this is all over…he is royally screwed. Oh well, this life—it wasn’t a complete waste.

 “I’m not, we’re not…” Varian stutters, face impossibly red. His black bangs have fallen over his eyes, but…yeah. Hugo is done.

 “Aw, don’t worry, dear.” The woman clasps her hands together, a demure smile on her face. “It’s a huge step in any person’s life, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Pardon me for saying this, but you two make for a very cute couple.”

 A tiny blur runs behind the woman…two eyes, a nose, a mouth…and appendages that resemble arms and legs—

 Right.

 The demon child. That was the whole point of this excursion. He would leave…afterall, the whole point of this trip was to return it back to the orphanage, but his eyes settle on a golden sheen—

 Hugo bites back some choice words. Now is not the time for it, not when the blasted creature has stolen his gold coins.

 It is rude and perhaps a bit hasty, but Hugo pushes past the woman, pulling Varian behind him as he runs into the [ridiculously] sunny building.

 Varian slowly regains himself, uttering apologies to the bewildered woman as they follow its trail.

---

 They follow the creature throughout the house. It was messy and chaotic and traumatizing, what with ignoring even more heinous atrocities against mankind…these ‘things’, he…has wished harm on his enemies before, but now—

 All he desires is to chuck the next one of these tiny ‘people’ into an open bonfire.

 Why do your goggles have spikes?

 What’s the blue hair? Are you magic? They ask Varian, forming a circle around the increasingly worried alchemist.

 But…the icing on this disgusting cake would be…Yong. He had thought his eyes were deceiving him; maybe he would need a new prescription, but no. Sadly, they were not. While rounding a corner, he and Varian had stumbled upon the pyromaniac as he swung his legs back and forth above a high table. He looked so in his element; completely at ease despite the slowly unfolding chaos that had enveloped this town.

 “How the hell, no, why the hell are you here!?” Varian screeches, hovering over the younger boy like a mother hen, checking for any scratches or burns. “And what happened to Nuru!?”

 “Oh, she got arrested,” Yong happily chirps, munching on a lollipop an elderly shop keeper had given him…the same one who had gotten into an argument with Nuru that may or may have not lead to broken bones and broken spirits.

 Varian’s hands are gripping his hair, antique goggles nearly toppling off of his head. “Excuse me!?”

 “Don’t worry about it, Varian,” Yong beams, but in the distance…they hear only the accursed sound of screams and explosions. “Looks like Nuru’s got it handled!”

 Suddenly…this building has gotten more appealing. Sure, there is…the baby…thing, but—

 It does no good to go against the wrath of one very trigger happy princess. Though, Hugo cannot blame her. He’d go mad from boredom if he was forced to spend his life in an uppity, stuck up court with the nobility.

 The building rumbles. Varian collapses, burying his face in his hands. The pyromaniac happily munches away at the sugary treat, while he—

 Hugo knows his days are numbered.

 ---

 Somehow, Hugo cannot help but feel…as if this whole ordeal had been for naught. A wave of ‘nothingness’ washes over him as they are once again banned from entering yet another town. The ‘baby’ had stolen his coins, but…at least they had made it all out of that hellish landscape in one piece.

 He wonders what exactly had happened with Nuru, but her lips are tightly sealed. There is a fire in her golden eyes as she grasps at her brand new telescope in triumph. She has won some great battle; he will allow her this sense of accomplishment and victory, at least.

 Whatever it is that Yong has done, his role in this ferocious war, it is a mystery to everyone but him.

 Varian, however, he…seems quiet and withdrawn. It is a harrowing sight and not one he thinks he could ever get used to. Had the insanity of these last few hours gotten to him? Or…could it have been his declaration?

 Hugo cannot stand this. The days that they can spend together are numbered; he would like to cherish each and every moment, but that cannot happen with this version of Varian he had rarely seen. He is so much unlike himself, and the thought that he had caused it is…worrying. Hugo reaches out one hand towards the other alchemist. “Hairstripe, if it was about what I said, I’m sorry. I take it back—”

 As if scalded by boiling water, Varian jumps back, mouth pressed in a thin line. There is a thin sheen over his eyes. He averts his gaze, looking towards the ground. “It was a mistake? All of it?”

 “No, I—”

 “Fine, I understand,” Varian smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

 “Varian, that’s not what I meant.”

 He wants to say more, but he will let go. Even if it means causing Varian grief now, at least it will spare them both from future heartbreak.

 Hugo looks back, wondering when this haphazard family he had found will inevitably come crashing down.

[peek-mag]

On Suffering/Salvation

It’s been difficult to discern how to feel about all that is happening in the world at the moment, and that uncertainty has kept me away from responding to the handful of messages asking for advice on doing just that. But in a moment of clarity a course has been cut through the mental clutter, and so I’d like to offer my paltry sentiments here. 

At first, admittedly, there was a novel thrill of life being completely upended. Of so many questions and such abrupt changes; all of a sudden out of work with millions of others, strongly urged to stay inside. It was reason to commune more regularly with the people I always guilt myself for not communing more regularly with–my parents, siblings, best friends from my hometown. In that sense, there was a comfort in being on a sinking ship, dancing with the band. We were all headed somewhere entirely uncertain together. 

I am, most certainly, an introvert by emotional nature. I am quite comfortable holed up at home, with books, cats, tidying, little creative projects. We live near a wonderful park, and the slow emergence of spring has offered chilly, sunny walks by the river where, when it edges near 60° you’d be hard press to think anything was amiss, save for the surgical masks and gloves donned by stroller pushers, joggers, and dog walkers. 

In that sense, much feels unaltered. Without logging onto Twitter, switching on CNN or talking to a particularly anxious family member, there is little outside the window to suggest that something terribly wrong is afoot. The air feels calm, though we know it’s a deadly sort of calm. Because of this knowing there has been much to take stock of and tally gratitude for on a daily basis. I have my health. My friends and family have their health. We have enough food. We are able to make ends meet. Those simple truths, when all else has been snatched out from under you, are truly enough. Which is what musings on this pandemic seem to unearth for those of us who, while interrupted, are not on the edge of disaster. There is so much to be grateful for, and they are unsurprisingly the most simple things: food, shelter, love, and sunshine. 

How anyone can fix his gaze on anything else perplexes me. Sure, there are frustrations, there is the economic depression to be bothered by, the complete failings of our government, the violence that is the capitalist system, the thousands that are dying daily, silently and alone. But from where you stand, when you take stock, how do things fair? I find it troubling that our minds tend to rest and dwell in such negative spaces, when if the scope is pulled back and our lives are placed in context, we are doing alright. As a society, there are holes, we are hurting, but as individuals, often, we are doing alright. 

We cannot help, it seems, but to focus on what hasn’t clicked into place yet, or that which has become slightly unhinged. It is something rather perpetual in our nature. We, as humans, have this odd and pernicious tendency to–while having the capacity to achieve happiness, health, and safety–thwart our own advances to such aims with every generation, through every millenia. Even when no immediate threat is posed to our daily lives, even when we ourselves are safe and met with the essentials, we are unable to unburden ourselves from a narrative of suffering. 

Humans, it seems, and as philosophers have narrated, are obsessed with our own suffering (I’m surely not the first or only to this point. In fact, I’d say required reading on this subject would be this article from The School of Life). We will, without fail, create conflict with our societies and daily lives even when, with a different narrative bend, the same circumstances could well be quite peaceful. 

I have been considering this for some time, having observed with close proximity individuals intent on their own stories of suffering, and being guilty of the same in some small way I’m sure. There seems a real threat to abandoning something that seemingly speaks so directly to one’s identity. Depression, loss, financial struggle, past abuse, loneliness, neglect, rejection–we experience these things almost universally, with varying degrees of seriousness and for varying lengths of time. And often it seems the habit is to wear one’s suffering as a badge of honor; not as though having survived means now being that much stronger, but as though the suffering itself is an indelible mark of achievement. 

As a society, we have romanticized the notion of suffering; we are so drawn to the idea of suffering that we cannot look away when we see it, and we cannot give it up when we experience it. Having suffered becomes something so essential to the fabric of social validity that we lock our stories of suffering to our identity, and carry them with us throughout the remainder of our lives–quite often when we are in truth far from them. And while the burden of the load strains our backs, we fear nothing more than simply putting it down and walking on. 

There is a very real threat present in the world right now, one that presents itself in the form of an infectious disease, one that presents itself in the form of economic instability, or perhaps near ruin for some, and one that presents itself existentially in how we view the society that supports (or doesn’t) our daily lives and our relative place within it. 

For many, this crisis may have illuminated how insignificant to the larger whole you really are. But that is unlikely, as each of us stands at the center of our own orbit. In fact, for most people there may be the urge to make this totally personal, something that is happening to you, with the other billions of people in the world as mere background cast. It is another failing of the mind to be unable to consider with any real gravity the lives of people it has never met and play no immediate consequence on its reality. 

But if ever there is a moment to do so, to consider the lives of people one has never met, I’d say this is it. You feel lonely? Yes, I’d say we all collectively feel lonely at the moment. People sharing beds likely feel lonely curled next to each other at night, and medical workers in packed hospitals likely feel lonely as they near the end of a twelve hour shift, and the journalist attempting to report the truth certainly feels lonely, and the mother now tasked with homeschooling three kids most definitely feels lonely, and lost, and mad; and the thirty five year old with a new baby at home, hooked up to a ventilator but likely to die with no one near him save for anonymous, hurried ghosts in PPE feels perhaps loneliest of all.  

The paradox of loneliness is that we all often feel it all together and all at once. Because to be truly understood is something that perpetually eludes us. There is real consequence to not knowing oneself, and often loneliness strikes an especially unnerving chord when the only companionship one has is with a stranger. For that reason quiet reflection is perhaps one of the most essential, grueling, and under-appreciated endeavors we can undertake. 

I don’t think one needs to be particularly useful or productive at this moment, a dangerous impulse under normal circumstances and increasingly more so now, but I do think if nothing else one can take stock and find gratitude. 

To focus on your suffering is to get this wrong, in my book. This is not a moment to dwell in the space in one’s mind where woes collect in the dusty corners. This is a moment to truly assess all that one has to be grateful for. There is always a story with a happier seeming ending to yours, there is always an achievement just over the horizon to place one’s hopes in, there is always something missing… if one is set on viewing the world that way. But there are boundless small gratitudes for the taking if one can fix one’s gaze on the glow of the sun that rises and sets without fail each and every day, on the subtle changes as the earth pitches on its axis, on the myriad of ways humans are infinitely complex and frivolous creatures. There is so much within one’s self to explore–there are so many worlds accessible to you through books, movies, music, and your own imagination. There is no shortage of magic hidden inside of the folds of everyday life that it would be a savage mistake to sit healthily inside this global catastrophe and think only of the ways your poor silly self is suffering. 

I think perhaps the patience I typically have for the understandable nuances of the human condition has dwindled as a cacophony of complaints echo throughout the collective consciousness. Can we not edge ourselves ever so slightly to a more elevated field of existence? Can we not see our species collectively under duress and think only of the ways we are inextricably tied to each other’s fates? Of then considering what contribution we have, spiritually, to this greater whole? Of shedding any notion that life is meant solely for our own consumption and amusement? That we are deserving of every joy only so that we may under-appreciate it, cast it aside, and insatiably demand the next? 

The antidote to your suffering is gratitude. Gratitude does not diminish the very real problems in your life; gratitude does not demand that you grin and bear pain that exists in your mind or body; gratitude does not alleviate that which you may be ignoring. Gratitude simply shifts the balance of your perspective to one that is rooted in all that you have, and all that you are, rather than all that you are lacking. 

Rest here, rest in this place of gratitude. Let this be your grounding, your starting and ending place each day, your salvation. 

[perfeggso]

till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

ace me out 

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark's freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark's arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It's up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Masterlist 

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing  

Rating: T

Length: 5.8k 

“Sunny,” Yuta reckoned, was the word most often used to describe both him and Mark – if in profoundly different ways.  Yuta’s favorite season was summer, so it followed that he should be like the summer sun: bright, intense, and all-consuming.  Mark, on the other hand, favored fall, and sometimes reminded Yuta of early autumn sunshine: soft in its glow, yet surprisingly bold.

It wasn’t summer when Yuta started feeling shortness of breath for the first time; it wasn’t fall, either.  It was in early March, during the part of spring where no one can agree if the world still feels like winter or if it’s beginning to thaw.  The thaw was usually something Yuta savored; the slow sensation of sunshine gingerly gracing his skin for the first time in months.  Sure, the winter sun was a welcome reprieve from the town’s usual snow and rain-induced gloom, but even when it came out, Yuta had a hard time feeling it.  It was the difference between being touched by bare hands and being touched through gloves.  Early March was when that transition usually occurred, along with the first appearances of crocuses and daffodils in Yuta’s garden, and he had always relished it; relished the lead-up to his favorite season and how that seemed to elongate it.  Since last year though, Yuta wasn’t sure what he thought about spring anymore – if he could still trust it.  It was almost exactly a year ago after all – last March – that Yukhei had nearly let himself die of hanahaki.

No, the first time Yuta felt an unusual shortness of breath was after soccer practice on March 6th, the day Mark Lee came home for spring break.  The sun was peeking through the clouds and glittering off the distant coast as Yuta kicked the ball around with Kun, who’d met up with him in the park off Main Street once Yuta’d finished running the local junior high soccer team through some drills.  Yuta had played intramurally while studying anthropology at the college a half hour away, as well as participating in several dance troops, and since he was only a year out of school, he still considered himself a relatively fit person, even if he was known to gorge on the Seo family’s matcha and azuki bean muffins until he could barely walk.  That’s why he found it so odd when he ran for the ball, which Kun had kicked particularly hard and far, and felt like the air was being yanked from his lungs like a chair being pulled from under him.

He kicked it back, his body flailing wildly, and collected himself, hands on his knees and upper body heaving, bent over.  Maybe he was developing asthma, he thought.  He’d heard of that happening to people nearly at random and with no history of the ailment.  He would have to make himself something for that.

“You okay?” called Kun, stopping the ball quickly and jogging over to his friend.

“Yeah I’m good,” Yuta responded, peering up at Kun sideways and flashing him his most blinding grin.  “I just felt a little weird for a sec.”

Yuta gazed past Kun, noticing a figure moving on the edge of the field.  Was that –

“Mark?” he yelled, heaving one more time before allowing himself to return to standing.  Kun wheeled around, looking elated, and sure enough, the figure raised both arms in greeting, breaking into a run.

“I’m baaaaack!” said Mark.  Yuta thought he looked older, even, than he had over his winter break, wearing jeans and a brown herringbone bomber jacket, black hair parting down the middle to fall over a pair of round wire glasses.  He looked like a city boy for some reason, not a conservation major from the countryside.  Yuta practically tackled Mark in a hug, trying to absorb his friend’s smaller frame as Kun looked on in amusement.  A grey cloud floated overhead, obscuring the tentative sun and making Yuta shiver.  When he pulled away, he indulged in a look of performative hurt, unzipping his pocket and pulling his phone out just to confirm what he already suspected; sure enough, there were no notifications.

“How dare you, Mark Lee!” he accused, pointing his finger in Mark’s face and leaning forward so Mark felt the need to lean back in response.  “How could you not tell me you were coming home today?”

Mark broke into a body-racking fit of giggles.  “I’m not allowed to give you a nice surprise?”

Yuta huffed in lieu of an answer and pointed at Kun.  “Was he involved?”

“Mark texted me earlier and asked if I could find you and detain you for him,” Kun confirmed, and Yuta glared.

“Whatever.  Markie, you caught me so unprepared!  I hope you know I won’t forgive you.”  But that was a lie.  Yuta had already forgiven Mark the ambush, if it required forgiving at all, and Mark knew this because the moment he’d schooled his laughing (which was no small feat) he sighed through a tight-lipped smile, eyes so big under his glasses and full of familiar warmth.

“It’s good to see you too, man,” Mark said, adding, “and Kun also.  Thanks for being my co-conspirator.”

Now that he’d processed, Yuta realized how giddy he was.  His best friend was back for a few weeks and they could do whatever they wanted; make spring sweet like it used to be.  He shuffled a bit on his feet as his enthusiasm boiled over, pushing thoughts of asthma out.  He slung an arm over Mark’s neck and started walking towards the rest of town while Kun went to fetch the ball like the responsible person he’d always been.

“Ugh, why can’t you just graduate already?” Yuta whined to Mark.  “I mean we’ve already gone through this once when I was gone! It hasn’t even been a year yet and I’m already sick of you being away!”

Mark chuckled.  “Thanks?” he said.  “But you can always come visit me, dude, like you already have…”

Yuta shook his head, petulant.  There were moments he thanked his lucky stars that his friends put up with his shit, and this was one of them.  “Not the same,” he explained.  “Don’t like sharing.”

Mark spluttered.

“Anyway!” Yuta diverted when Kun rejoined them, “Do you want to come over to mine this evening so we can catch up?  Kun, you’re invited too of course along with the others, who I can shoot a text too although it might be a LITTLE LAST MINUTE, you know?  That could have been avoided, but alas.”  Yuta cleared his throat as his friends laughed indulgently.  “But yeah, I’m in the barn these days, so we can have a little shindig.  What do you say?”    

“That sounds awesome!” said Mark.  “Just gotta check with my parents, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Yuta rolled his eyes and scoffed in mock disdain.  “Underclassmen…”

They emerged from the park onto Main Street and Kun excused himself to check on the coffeeshop, promising to be at Yuta’s whenever they decided the gathering would be.  Yuta turned to Mark.

“I have a couple errands I have to run in town before I go home, and then I need to get ready, so while I’m doing that you can go and make sure you have permission to be out after dark.”

Mark laughed, flustered.  That was one of the plethora of reasons he tended to laugh; the others ranging from fear to disgust to joy.  “Alright, Yuta,” he agreed.  “I’ll see you tonight.  Can’t wait to be back with the gang; well – minus Johnny, I guess.  Anyway, can I get another hug?”

Yuta grabbed Mark before the request had been fully uttered, rocking him back and forth and groaning in a way he thought only appropriate considering the tightness of his squeezing.

“Whatever you want, Markie,” Yuta teased before letting his friend go.  “See you tonight.”  And with that Mark was backing away down the street and towards their neighborhood, giving Yuta a dorky little salute when he’d gone far enough to warrant turning around.  Yuta shuddered as he watched Mark leave, the cool tinge of early spring evening setting in against his exposed arms.  It was already 4:30 and the previous sunshine was diffusing into a blue tint over everything in sight.  The shade reminded Yuta of the hour in summer when fireflies usually made their first appearances.  If only it were warmer.

On his way down Main, Yuta stopped into the herbalist’s before the shop closed, finding Kunhang manning it, himself home for break.  A little bell jingled as the door opened and shut and Kunhang lifted his head from where it had been settled lazily against the metal counter.

“Yuutaaa,” he called, “what do you need?”

“Hey Kunhang,” he greeted, “do you guys have any black seed?  I’m all out.”

Kunhang reached under his desk and rummaged around, emerging with an empty jar about the size of a single serving of yogurt.  “Sure thing,” he said, turning around and tracing his eyes and pointer finger over labels upon labels until he found the one for the product he was looking for.  “Here we go.  What’s it for?”

Yuta shrugged, fishing for his wallet.  “Just a little chest tightness.  Think I exercised too much today.  I’m an old man, you know.”

Kunhang turned back around, jar of black granules in hand, and placed it on a small metal scale.  “You’re the furthest thing from an old man I can think of, but alright.” He said, then named the price.  Yuta laughed at Kunhang’s comment and exchanged a few bills for his purchase, which Kunhang had packed for him in a lavender-colored paper bag folded over at the top.

“You close at five?” Yuta asked, loitering a few feet from the door. Kunhang nodded.  “Perfect.  You know Mark’s back?”

“I heard,” said Kunhang, settling his elbows back on the counter’s copper top.  “But I haven’t had time to see him yet.  I don’t think he knows I work here now.”

“Well, I’m trying to have a get-together tonight at my place to celebrate.  I’ll send out details soon I think.”

Kunhang looked pleasantly surprised.  “Oh! That’s awesome!” he said. “I’ll definitely be there.  Is it, like – what kind of get-together?”

Yuta chuckled and Kunhang’s expression hinted at embarrassment.  College kids…      

“It’ll be chill, but I’m cool with BYOB if you have something in mind.  I have a few herbal liqueurs I’ve been wanting a reason to break out, anyway.”

“Sweet,” said Kunhang.  “See you tonight, I guess.”

Yuta let himself out with a chiming of the bell.  “I hope so!”

Next stop was Taeyong’s flower shop.  Yuta steadied himself before crossing the street, breath hitching again strangely at his trachea.  He cleared his throat, trying to fight the mild jolt of terror it gave him not knowing what was wrong.  It was as if when he drew air into his lungs, a small fraction of it transformed into something else that he couldn’t breathe.  It was…strange; there was no other way of describing it.  He pitched forward a bit and forced himself to take a full breath to calm his nerves.  He’d been conditioned by his soccer coaches his whole life not to catch his breath in this position, but now that he was actually struggling, he found it was the only effective strategy.  Once he felt a bit better, he crossed the street and walked into the Lee family flower shop.

“Evening, good sir,” he said jovially upon entry.  Taeyong seemed to be in the process of tallying up the day’s total from the till.

“Yuta!” he said, looking from under his bangs. “What a surprise.  You need something or just stopping in to say hi?”

“Both,” Yuta answered, calm normalcy settling back into his brain as if he’d crushed it up and taken it in a little pill.  “I’m getting some flowers in Mark’s honor.  Have you seen him yet?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, setting down a handful of bills and rocking against the counter in front of him, “he stopped by earlier today.  Didn’t get to talk long though. He warned me not to text you anything about it.”  Taeyong smirked.  

Who else’d seen Mark before Yuta had?   He pushed his petulant thoughts aside.  “I’m having a little impromptu party in the loft tonight if you could be bothered.  Just to celebrate being reunited as a mostly group, you know – now that all the young’uns are back from break.”

Taeyong nodded.  “Sounds perfect.  Just tell me the details and I’ll be there.”

“Great.  In the meantime,” Yuta continued, “I’d like to acquire a bouquet to decorate; make it homier, I guess.  Also, I want it to be something Mark would like.”

Taeyong pursed his lips in thought and hummed.  “What about bluebell?” he asked.  “They just came into season and Mark likes blue.”

“Sounds good,” Yuta agreed as Taeyong cut a square of paper, scissors gliding with a satisfying crisp sound, folded it into a cone, and began arranging the bauble-like periwinkle blossoms inside it.

“Anything else you want in there?” asked Taeyong.  Yuta hadn’t come with a plan, so he found himself pondering his options uselessly.  That is, until a golden bundle of baby sunflowers caught his eye.

“Oh!” he said, pointing in their direction.  “Maybe a few of those; since I like them and because Mark brought the sunnier weather with him today.”

Taeyong smiled softly, plucking three of the blooms and situated them amongst the bluebell in the least awkward arrangement possible considering their vast difference in size.

Yuta nodded his approval.  “Looks good,” he remarked.  “By the way, where did you get them? It’s not really the season...”

“The sunflowers?” Taeyong asked, and Yuta nodded again.  Taeyong leaned over the counter and put a flattened hand on one side of his mouth like he had a particularly juicy secret.  Yuta leaned in too.  “I don’t know if you’ve heard but they have this very exciting new technology called a greenhouse.  It’s still part of a classified experiment, but you know, I figured I could trust you…”  Taeyong giggled at Yuta’s expense and at his own jest.

“Alright, whatever,” Yuta grumbled, reaching again for his wallet.  “stupid question.”

“What are you doing?” Taeyong shot at him.

“Paying you?” Yuta responded.

“No, you’re not.  Friend discount; on the house.”

“ Discount isn’t supposed to mean free,” Yuta protested.  

Taeyong gave a proud look as he forced the flowers on Yuta.  “I am the house, therefore I get to decide what to put on it.  That’s the final word.”

Yuta tried to argue again but lost due to Taeyong’s hard-headed generosity.

Taeyong gestured to Yuta’s bag of seeds as he was preparing to leave.  “That for Mark too?” he asked.

“No, this is for me,” replied Yuta.  “Just out of some herbs.  Also, the flowers aren’t only for Mark.  You’ll all get to enjoy them!”

Taeyong’s eyes rolled up into his head for a moment, contrasting the sweetness of his face.  “Okay, okay, fair enough.  I’ll see you later tonight, then.  I can’t wait!”

When Yuta was out the door, he transferred his baggie so it was pinned between his elbow and side, giving him a hand to manipulate his phone.  There was a text bubble on the screen from Mark confirming he could come over any time after 6:30.  Yuta grinned, sending off a quick message in their friend group chat requesting the pleasure of everyone’s presence at his home at 7:45.    

Yuta’s family lived in a craftsman farmhouse with a compact cluster of woods in the backyard and a garden out front.  The Nakamotos were not farmers, though, so the rest of the land which had once come with the house they sold in part and gave up in part to be used as communal land for the town.  This meant that Yuta grew up with a slew of gardeners, hikers, picnickers, and campers hanging around his home, and his friends credited this with his sociability.

The house’s old barn had been converted into storage space and a study for Yuta’s father, but once he’d graduated from college and returned home, the upper loft area was turned over to Yuta so he could enjoy more privacy from his parents and younger sister.  It was really nice of them to let him move in there while he decided what to do with himself.  He remembered transferring his belongings to the barn like he was moving into his dorm freshman year all over again.

Yuta and Mark hadn’t met in school, since they were four grades apart.  Instead, they met because they lived next door to each other; their families’ properties separated only by a short hawthorn hedge.  Once when they were in elementary and preschool respectively, they became convinced there were dinosaur bones entombed in the plant’s roots and went to work hacking at them with plastic toy shovels until they had unearthed a series of interestingly-shaped rocks, or as they had put it to their horrified parents, “triceratops horns.”  

Yuta still had those rocks on a silver saucer he kept on his dresser to display random natural objects he’d collected over the years, and the memory flashed through him at the sight of them when he walked into his room that day.  He placed his bouquet in a flouted cut crystal vase which he set in the sitting area on the far end of his loft, then ran a hot shower, figuring the steam would do some good for both his chilled nerves and constricted lungs.

When he exited the shower, he rummaged through his herb cabinet, pulling out some honey, turmeric, ginger, and ginseng.  He placed the herbs into his quartz mortar along with a small spoonful of the black seed he’d bought from Kunhang, then crushed it all up with his pestle.  He dumped the resulting paste into a mug, added some honey so that it all resembled liquified amber, and doused the mixture in hot water from his portable kettle.  Before drinking it, he thought up a short prayer that the infusion might permanently sooth whatever inflammation was bothering his airways.  He figured the strange discomfort wasn’t anything serious, but you could never be too careful.

Yuta sipped the pungent concoction and scrolled through his phone.  To his delight, most people were responding positively.  Everyone besides Chenle and Taeil (who happened to be home visiting) was available, and when Yuta offered to reschedule, both of them said they could just have another gathering later and it would be for the better – Yuta’s loft was going to be a tough fit for all of them as it was.  In a way it made him feel better that Johnny couldn’t be there.  That was the trouble with large friend groups: finding a time when everyone was free and motivated was as difficult as finding a spell Yuta’s mother hadn’t practiced.

Yuta hooked his phone up to his speaker and played some music while he got dressed, swapping his black bathrobe for jeans, a white t-shirt, and the letterman cardigan that’d been purchased ironically with the rest of his contemporary dance troupe in college, but quickly turned into one of his favorite items of clothing.  Yuta peeked at his clock.  An hour and a half and he’d be dancing around his room with his friends, pleasantly buzzed and listening to all the hijinks Mark had undoubtedly gotten himself into his freshman spring.

***

Yuta might have been a diviner, he thought stupidly, he had been that accurate in predicting how the night would go.  Of course, it wasn’t hard to anticipate an outcome he’d had a hand in orchestrating, but he excused his jumbled thoughts as they could be easily chalked up to the multiple Campari drinks he’d made himself over the course of the night – or, at least, that he’d convinced Doyoung to make for him.  He was in the sitting area of his room, dancing with Mark and trying not to disrupt any of his furniture in the cramped space.

“Mark Lee,” he said, setting his glass on the coffee table so he could gesture more freely, “you mean to tell me you haven’t been up to anything of note since winter break?”

“I’m telling you man, I haven’t,” replied Mark, bouncing his way into the side of Yuta’s couch and pulling a startled face in response.  A fit of tipsy giggles poured from Yuta, causing Mark to practically heave laughter.

“Okay, anyway,” continued Mark before anything else could throw him off.  “It’s been midterms and stuff, so I’ve been really busy.  That’s about all I can handle if I’m still gonna try to keep the radio slot Johnny left to me and I promised him I would!  Some people sleep, you know.”

Yuta scoffed.  “I sleep,” he said, reaching towards the table to take a swig of the herbal red liquid in his glass.  “Anyway, point taken.”

“You really saw me at my wildest point, Yuta,” Mark said, sipping from his cider, “I’ve calmed down since senior spring.  I was nervous about college and I let that get to me whenever I came to visit you. Now I’m adjusted; I’m a new man.”

Yuta did a little spin and found that it made him lightheaded.  He chose to ignore that observation.  “What have you done with the Markie I knew?” he joked, pouting.  “It’s alright, I guess I just bring out the devil in you and you’ve gone soft now that I’m not around as much.”

Mark spluttered.  “Yeah, dude, definitely.  It’s all that dark magic and shit – total bad influence.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, nearly sending a knee into his table since he couldn’t see his legs for a moment.  “Oh, shut up, that ‘dark magic’ stopped you from needing crutches after you turned your ankle playing drunk badminton of all things!  Imagine explaining that to your parents.  You should be thanking me.”

Mark took a performative bow, extending a leg and outstretching his arms as if he were a 17th century gentleman.

“Thank you, your majesty,” he said.  “Although I seem to remember thanking you, like, a lot at the time.”

Yuta placed a hand over his chest.  “That’s of little importance, Markie.  Don’t you know a despot always needs his ego stroked?”

Mark looked at Yuta blankly.  “A what?”

Yuta stopped dancing to stare in dramatic disappointment.  “You’re kidding, right?”

Before Mark could answer (and Yuta knew, of course, that Mark had been dead serious), they were interrupted by the ringing of metal tapping against glass.  Yuta turned around to find Donghyuck teetering on his bed, surrounded by Yuta’s other guests.  He had a glass of something in one hand and a copper candle holder in the other, clearing his throat.

“Is this a toast?” yelled Yukhei.

“No,” Donghyuck replied, “this is a complaint.  Yuta Nakamoto: I have a personal issue with you that needs redress.”

Yuta scoffed as all his friends snickered in his direction.  “Alright, Hyuck, do tell.”

“I couldn't help noticing that Yukhei got back a week ago and you never threw him a party.  Same goes for Kunhang!" The supposedly offended parties just stood below Donghyuck, apparently surprised by their friend's little interruption. Jaemin and Jeno stood next to them, grinning with their arms tangled around each other by the edge of the bed.  Yuta could never see the two of them together without a near violent glee overcoming him at the thought that everything had worked out.  “And! And, you can't even be bothered to tune into a single one of my Twitch streams! What's up with that? You’re obviously playing favorites!”

“Hey,” Yuta began in his defense, “I’m your friend, not your teacher.  I’m allowed to have favorites.  Get your own best friend.”

“Oh, so he admits it!”

“He’s just jealous you’ve been hogging Mark all night, Yuta,” Doyoung interjected, and everyone laughed save Donghyuck, who wheeled around to glare at the source of the interruption.  He cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” Donghyuck continued, “In all seriousness, the reason everyone here agreed to attend this highly disrespectful event is because we love you, Mark, and we’re so happy you’re home.  If your being away has taught me anything, it’s that I actually do miss your dumb face and accidentally genius sense of humor, but it’s also made me appreciate those things even more when we’re together.  Don’t let Yuta keep you all to himself for the next two weeks because then I might have to challenge him to a duel, and we all know that wouldn’t end well for him.”  Everyone tittered at that except Yuta, who just crossed his arms and tried to look dispassionate.

“Well, I should be concluding, but I think if anyone else has some thoughts for Mark – or for any of the college kids for that matter since they didn't get their own parties – you should express them now.”

The group gave Donghyuck a round of applause and he took a bow, wobbling dangerously as he jumped back to the cedar wood floor.

Next it was Taeyong’s turn.  He stood where he was by Doyoung’s side rather than climb on the bed, clutching a cup in both hands and teasing Mark good-naturedly until he was a mortified mess against Yuta’s shoulder.

Kun went next, joking that he’d hired Jisung as his temporary delivery boy, so if Mark wanted to make any money over break, he’d need to scramble and get his shit together.  He concluded by telling him not to let Yukhei talk him into too many keg-stands when they’re visiting each other.  Mark shook his head like a madman, waving his hands wildly in front of him as if trying to dispossess his parents of a bad impression.

Jaehyun did get up on the bed, declaring that Mark is only in college once and should be allowed to make as many bad decisions as he wants, Kun .  Yuta found himself wondering unwelcomely exactly what kind of Bad Decisions Mark was making without him around.  As Jaehyun moved on to reminiscing about childhood days of cow-tipping, Yuta was suddenly seized by another bout of breathlessness.  It hit him like the slap of cold water in a polar plunge and made him feel as though every bit of tissue in his body was encased in plaster.  He tried to breath through it, but it only got more uncomfortable the harder he focused on the mechanics of his breathing.  Sicheng had draped himself on his side over the bed, preparing to speak no doubt, but Yuta realized guiltily he would need to miss it.  The coughing was starting in earnest.

Mark noticed.  He leaned in towards Yuta, eyes wide in genuine concern.

“You okay, man?”

Yuta nodded, covering his mouth with his fist and holding up one finger to indicate he’d return in a moment.  Then, he took off to the bathroom, the eyes of the group following him in discrete curiosity until Mark assured them all he thought Yuta was fine.

They probably just think I drank too much , he reasoned as he heaved over the sink.  He felt like he had something stuck in his chest that needed to be hacked up, but nothing arrived no matter how much he coughed.  After a few minutes of this, he stuck his head under the faucet and drank down as much water as he could manage, feeling whatever was stuck inside him being doused back down.  His breathing shallowed, but at least he didn’t have a violent need to cough anymore.  Suddenly, a terrifying thought hit him: if this was asthma, the potion he’d made earlier coupled with the prayer should have taken care of it.  What was it, then?  

He looked in the mirror as he heard Sicheng finishing up, the sound of his words filtering in through the bathroom door but not actually registering in Yuta’s brain as coherent ideas.  He thought he looked fine; his skin didn’t have a sickly pallor and his gold-dyed hair didn’t look greasy or sparse.  His eyes were a bit glassy, but Yuta attributed that to all the coughing and gagging he’d just put himself through.  He grabbed a lavender potion his mom had made him from his medicine cabinet and pressed it into the pressure points on his head and neck, trying to breath deeply as he did so.  He would ask her about it in the morning and surely, she’d know what to do.

When Yuta emerged, everyone was still milling around the bed, the quiet chatter that always signals the waning moments of a party setting in.  Mark abruptly cut off his conversation with Donghyuck and bounded over to meet Yuta on his way to the group.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked, hushed, “we were about to send someone to check on you. Need me to do anything to help?  You can direct me and I’ll make you a potion or something.  It might not be as good as one of yours but if you’re too tired –”                

Yuta forced a laugh, cutting off Mark’s cutely concerned ramble.  “No, I’m fine, thanks though.  I just felt a little nauseous for a minute there, but I’m good now.”

Mark nodded like a bobble head.  “Oh, uh, okay.  Cool.  That’s actually probably good, you know.  Now, you won’t get a hangover.”

“Yeah,” Yuta agreed, a pit forming in his stomach as he looked into Mark’s dark brown eyes.  “Probably good.”

***

Yuta awoke about two hours later in his maroon upholstered armchair, one foot extended on his coffee table right next to the bluebell and sunflower bouquet he’d picked up what seemed like days ago by now.  Most of the party had gone home, but Jaehyun and Kunhang were snoozing on the bed, Jeno and Jaemin shared whispers in the corner, and Mark lay across the sofa facing Yuta.  Yuta stood, ready to cattle-prod people out of his room if he had to.  He woke Jaehyun and Kunhang and extracted everyone from his room with as much decorum as he could muster, and once he’d made his way back to Mark, the boy had woken up from all the hushed thank-you’s and goodbyes.  His glasses were askew, and he looked around the room the way people do when they wake up somewhere they don’t remember having fallen asleep.

“Oh, hey,” he said, voice scratchy.  “Am I the last one?”

“Yeah,” Yuta confirmed, perching on the couch’s armrest, “but don’t worry about it.  I saved you for last since you’re easiest to get home.  Let me walk you?”

Mark giggled.  “You don’t have to, it’s not like I could get lost.”

“I insist,” Yuta said, smiling firmly.

They walked, exhausted, from Yuta’s lawn to Mark’s, Yuta’s flip-flop-clad feet dampened by early morning dew cold enough to make him shiver.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, as they came to pause by the hedge between their families’ properties.

“I really did,” said Mark.  “Thanks for getting everyone together on such short notice.  I’m lucky to have a guy like you for a friend.”  Mark smiled.  Sunny , Yuta thought, like real warmth was hitting him.

“Same for me about you,” Yuta reciprocated, cringing silently at his awkward phrasing. Mark didn’t seem to notice.

“By the way,” Mark added, “I forgot to say anything, but I really like the blond hair.”

“Why thank you,” Yuta said, fidgeting side to side. “This color makes me think of summer.  A lot of personal changes can happen in three months, you know.  I’m still convinced I’ll get something interesting out of you, yet.”  Mark guffawed as he took a step into his yard.  “I mean, come on, Markie,” Yuta pressed, “not even a significant other or anything?  You used to be a hot item.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude,” Mark said, “and if you insist on prying into that, you’re only gonna be disappointed at the lack of anything to report.”

Yuta felt the air flow freely into his lungs for the first time in hours.  He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his best friend – or rather he hadn’t allowed himself to realize; probably because the realization hurt.  Yuta’s four years away had been a struggle, but eight was seeming like borderline cruelty.

“Fine,” Yuta offered, “I’ll not pry, then.  Let’s do something tomorrow, hm?  I have work but we can meet up after.”

“Sounds good.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.  Thanks again, Yuta.”  Mark started the rest of the way towards his house as Yuta waved him off.

“It was nothing.”

Yuta tidied up a bit and got ready for bed, checking his almost dead phone before turning the light off.  3:42 in the morning, oh dear .  Below the time was a short message from Mark.  “ Btw I liked the flowers in ur room.  Might get some tomorrow from ty .”

Yuta stifled a cough.

***

Yuta woke up the next morning gasping.  He was sure the only reason his body had jolted him to sitting was because he’d stopped breathing in his sleep and it was a last-ditch effort to save him.  Once he’d gathered himself and gotten mostly ready for the day, he sat at his table to do a quick tarot reading.  He shuffled his art deco set against the coffee table surface, then brought them back into a deck, settling for a one-card reading since his tired and confused mind begged him for simplicity.  He took the top card in the deck and flipped it over.  It was the ace of cups, reversed, the image showing an orange goblet ringed by water lilies around its base and crowned by rays of sunlight shining off the rim.  All of it, upside-down.

Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions … Yuta rattled off the card’s associations in a slow attempt not to be concerned by its imagery.  Self-love, intuition, repressed emotions… “repressed emotions” kept jumping out at him when he landed upon it.  Something about that made him uneasy.  Was he repressed? He took the deepest breath he could muster and slotted the cards back in their case, figuring this hunch would grow clearer the longer he lived with it.  He had to be at work soon, but wanted to ask his mom for advice about the breathing situation before he headed out, so he grabbed his soccer bag and rushed down the stairs.  The skylight above them revealed nothing but a grey sky.