Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This whole mess was Suzie Toot’s fault, and Kori was definitely not going to let her forget it. Once this was over, she was cashing in on the biggest “you owe me” of all time. The mosquitoes were relentless, the humidity unbearable, and Kori was sweating through her shirt for the third time that day. All she could think about was how badly she wanted to be at home, sprawled on the couch with her favorite drink in a cup overflowing with ice, doing absolutely nothing. Especially since days off like this one were rare—and this one had been completely ruined.

It all started a couple weeks ago when the guild started getting reports for adventures getting lost in the forest that is under the guild's protection zone. What made these reports interesting was that they all mentioned something eerily similar: a thick, unyielding mist that had no end. It didn’t move, didn’t dissipate—it just sat there, stagnant. And anyone foolish enough to try and walk through it ended up in a completely different part of the forest, still caught in the thick fog.

At first, the guild put up a big warning for new adventures: Don't venture so deep in the woods , and if you do come across any mysterious fog, do NOT try to walk through it. That much should’ve been obvious, right?! Yeah, it seems not… more complaints started to come up and rescue parties were sent out way too many times in such a small amount of time, which made no sense to the administration, so they had to take the next step and send some of their own people to properly investigate what could possibly be happening.

Now, you may be wondering to yourself, what does that have to do with Suzie or Kori? Very simple! Because Suzanne fucking Boots —much to Kori’s desdain— decided that she herself had to solve such problem. The thing is, she obviously couldn't go alone, so she chose what she called “the second-best thing to her might” and, without any warning, signed her up for the mission. Kori didn’t find out until the night before they had to leave.

To say that Kori was pissed was the understatement of the century. They did take quests like this for a living, but this one was a whole nother level of inconvenient. First, there was no time to prepare, which was a huge red flag. Sure, they were seasoned adventurers, but going in blindly? That was pure stupidity. Second, their teammates—Lana and Jewels—couldn’t come. They had their own plans, and after all, it was their time off. That left Kori and Suzie even more exposed and vulnerable to whatever was lurking in the woods. Third, the quest had no clear instructions. No location. No backup. No clue when they’d be back or how to resolve it. Honestly, the whole situation was a fucking mess.

Kori was a planner and that was her main duty in their group. They didn't really have a leader per say, but the one that would be making the calls was Kori and in her head going in without a plan is the same as going completely naked! Nothing about walking for hours with no destination in sight sat right with her. She wanted to punch Suzie—hard—but knew it wouldn't solve anything. That awareness left her with only one option: bickering with the redhead, because at least that gave her something.

They've been covering ground and making observations along the way, like the fact that nothing else seems to be out of the ordinary: the animals are all behaving normally which you could say it's a good sign, the weather was warm and humid, just as it should be around this time of year on around these places, the plants themselves seems to be healthy and blossoming with no sign of distress. If anything, it felt like a complete waste of time for them to be there! Sure, there is something wrong for all these people to find thick fog in the middle of nowhere and not being able to find a source was worrisome to say the least, and it's not like they could just turn back empty handed.

Around the eighth hour they were in the explorer mode, Suzie was first to notice there were no more wildlife around —no birds tweeting from above their heads, no animals rustling in the bushes, but more importantly, no more bugs making their lives miserable— “It's a sign we are getting close it, don't you think?” Suzie says, her voice quite enthusiastic.

“I sure hope it is” Kori muttered, unimpressed.

It didn't take long to finally show itself up —the infamous mist that took them all the way here. At first glance, it didn't seem dangerous. There was some change in temperature but you still had visibility. Walking in felt safe enough. But after a few more steps, the air became dense. It was harder to see beyond their feet, and walking through it started to feel like wading through water. It was as though the mist itself was warning them not to go any further. Kori paused, taking a good look around before sitting down on the ground.

Suzie was visibly confused. “What's going on?”

The blonde glanced up and said calmly “It's a magic barrier. We just reached the limiter”

Suzie blinked at her as if she had two heads. But, after a long moment, she sat down beside her. “So… what do we do now?”

Kori shrugged and offered her a water bottle. “We wait.” Suzie stared at her, completely baffled. "How could waiting be the solution?" she thought. But there was a calmness in Kori’s demeanor, and even though Suzie didn’t understand it, she had no choice but to trust her. Besides, the water bottle was probably there to keep her from asking too many questions.

Thankfully it didn't take too long for Suzie to finally get some answers. A small humanesque form shadow emerged from the fog, drawing closer with deliberate steps. Neither Kori nor Suzie flinched, just fully watched it as it got closer and closer to where they made themselves comfortable on the floor. It didn't seem threatening or upset, just cautious as it approached the duo.

“Hiii, is there anything I can help you two with?” came a gentle, polite voice just before its owner stepped into full view.

Kori's jaws dropped. Maybe it wasn't so bad to be forced into taking this job… The voice belonged to a small girl— pale skin, long black hair in a high pony and bangs that half-veiled her face, big icy blue eyes that sent chills if you looked directly at it. She wore a dark blue dress that contrasted with her slim silhouette and gave her an almost ethereal appearance.

“She's so beautiful” was the only coherent thought running through Kori’s brain. She was completely lost in awe, eyes scanning from head to toe, entirely forgetting to answer the girl standing right in front of her.

“Hello?!” Suzie elbowed Kori's side to see if the girl had any reaction, but to no avail. The blonde was on another planet too far of reach.The redhead gave up and turned to the girl instead. “Sorry, are you responsible for this mist?”

“Yes, you could say I am” the girl replied, a bit intrigued, her head tilting slightly to the side.

“Is there a reason why there is a magical barrier in the middle of the forest?” she asks directly.

The black haired girl takes a moment to think and giggles a bit to herself, Suzie is a bit taken aback by the reaction before the girl can explain herself.

“You don't know where you are, do you?” she says kindly, her smile warm but toothless—more amused than anything.

Kori is finally back to reality, both of them shake their heads and the girl gives another chuckle.

“Are you lost, by any chance?” the girl asked gently, clearly trying to sound sympathetic, though she was clearly entertained by the situation.

“Oh! Nooo!” Kori answers quickly “We're with the guild responsible for overseeing this area and we have been getting some reports about it so we came to check it out ourselves”

“Some… adventures have gotten lost after trying to get through it. Others weren't able to find a way through. So they sent us to investigate to make sure it's safe” Suzie adds up

“Ohhh” the girl murmured, processing the info slowly and nodding along. “I didn't realize the barrier was causing trouble. Sorry about that.”

“Why is there a barrier here in the first place?” Kori asks, finally looking directly at the girl. Her breath caught again when their eyes met.

“You’ve stumbled into the witches’ coven,” the girl answered, grinning when their eyes widened in surprise. “I’m Lydia, by the way. And who you might be?”

“I'm Suzie and this is Kori!” she said after coming out of the shock, stepping on her friend’s foot to make her stop staring at the girl again

“So Lydia, can you tell us a little about the barrier?” she adds

“I can,” Lydia said with a nod. “But I think it’s better if I show you. Want to come inside?” the black haired offers

“Sure, we don't mind!” the blonde replies quickly “But is it really okay if we go in?”

“You're going in with me, so don't worry about it” Lydia reached out, gently taking Kori’s hand. The blonde blushes quite hard by the sudden contact

“We need to hold hands to pass through. Hope that's okay”

Kori just nodded, unable to trust her voice. Lydia smiled sweetly in response before taking Suzie’s hand. The redhead gave Kori a "seriously?" look while raising an eyebrow.

As they walked in, the fog was too thick to see further than your next step, they couldn't even see each other so holding hands was indeed necessary, not that Kori was complaining about that. Eventually, the fog thinned, and the three of them emerged on the other side.

Kori and Suzie both gasped.

Before them stretched a vast meadow bursting with tiny flowers, a glistening lake nestled in a nearby valley, and a towering castle rising in the distance. The sunlight was warm but soft, and a cool breeze swept past, refreshing them after the long trek. The whole place shimmered with quiet enchantment.

“Let’s head to the flower garden,” Lydia suggested cheerfully. “I think you’ll like it.”

She was right.

They found themselves seated at a charming wrought-iron garden table, white and ornate, surrounded by blooming flowers—many the girls didn’t recognize. It felt like stepping into a fairytale. Lydia had gone off to prepare some snacks, despite both of them insisting she didn’t need to.

“It's so beautiful” Kori said, looking around in wonder.

“The girl or the place?” Suzie says with a smirk

“Oh come on” Kori rolls her eyes “Lydia is really beautiful too” she admits quite easily, the smirk on the redhead's face grew even bigger.

“I thought we were here for work, not for you to fall in love with a witch” she teases “Do you think she's a good witch or a wicked witch?”

“As long as she's single, I don't care” the blonde shrugs, making the other girl laugh

“I like to believe I'm mostly good with a wicked side” Lydia chimed in as she returned, clearly having overheard the conversation. Kori kinda wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole, but instead, she just laughed along.

The table was set like a full-on tea party: finger sandwiches, tiny quiches, scones, canapés, madeleines, mini cakes, jams and curds— you name it, it was all there. The girls ate well, the food was really good but having an appetite was also a big part of it, since they only briefly snacked hours ago.

As they ate, Lydia explained the mist. It wasn’t harmful but acted like a redirection spell. If you tried to push through, it could teleport you to another part of the forest. She apologized again for the confusion it had caused the guild.

Conversation drifted to guild life, crazy past quests, and other adventures. Lydia listened intently, completely absorbed. Kori found her curiosity adorable. Then a red butterfly landed delicately on Lydia’s finger. She looked at it, then at the girls. “My supervisor is ready to see you.” “You… talk with animals?” Kori asked, stunned.

Lydia laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. “No, not at all. That’s her messenger. She uses it to summon people.” She grinned. “But that was a cute guess.”

They stepped into the massive building they had seen earlier—and somehow, the inside was even more breathtaking than the outside. It felt like an entire world existed within these walls. Ornate, towering ceilings soared above them, adorned with intricate mosaic artwork that stretched all the way to the top. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, catching on gold accents that shimmered with every movement of light.

Suzie was completely enamored. The vintage décor, the elaborate wall carvings, the sense of ancient magic in the air—she could’ve spent hours just soaking it all in. But there was no time to wander. The dynamic duo stuck close behind Lydia. If they got lost in this place, they’d never find their way out again. Eventually, they stopped in front of an enormous set of double doors—clearly the entrance to someone important.

Lydia turned to them, expression serious for the first time. “I’d advise you to behave in front of her,” she said calmly. “She isn't one you would like to mess with”.

Before they could even contest or really process the information, she pushed the grand doors and gestured for them to walk in first.

The atmosphere inside was tense enough to feel physical. The room fell completely silent. You could hear a pin drop—and probably tell exactly where it landed.

The two girls stood with their chins held high, but only Kori had the balls to look directly at the witch straight in the eye.

“I’ve been told you’re with the guild,” said a cool, commanding voice from the far end of the room. A woman sat at an enormous table, her presence quite intimidating. “I’d like to know the reason for this unannounced visit. Sit.”

The chill in her voice made them obey without hesitation. They took their seats.

“Mistress, you don't have to be so harsh with them, they are my new friends!” The small witch says with a giggle, walking to the other side of the table.

“Oh, please,” the woman replied, dramatically clasping pearls that aren’t there. “I’m the sweetest witch in the whole coven. I have no idea what you’re implying.” She finished the performance with a wicked little giggle.

“Sure you are” Lydia teases back, taking a seat by her side.

Mistress gives them the floor and Suzie manages to explain all the situation and gives all the paperwork related from the guild, placing by its side the exploration quest and the guild master’s letter. She sure came prepared for anything that could happen.

Mistress skimmed over the first few documents. “I understand,” she said. “But I’ll need time to read everything before I can make a decision.”

She glanced at Lydia. “Daughter, couldn’t you have handled this on your own?”

“I could’ve,” Lydia replied lightly. “But you’ve been doing this job since before I was born. You know the protocols and procedures much better than I ever could!”

“Don't mix me up with that bitch Nicole, you wicked little child of mine” Mistress said with mock irritation. Her eyes said she was amused, not angry. “Take them to the waiting room while I read, would you?”

The trio left the main chamber and stepped into a beautifully decorated sitting room. Delicate floral wallpaper, plush velvet sofas, and a crystal chandelier overhead—it looked more like a royal parlor than a holding room.

Before they could even sit, Suzie turned toward Lydia.

“I really don't mind staying behind to finish the negotiations, you know” she said, then glanced pointedly at Kori.“You two should do something fun” she winks at the blonde

“Are you sure about that?” Lydia asks, concerned for her new friend. ““It might take a while.”

“Oh yes, absolutely!” Suzie nodded, feigning innocence. “Kori can't stay sitting for long periods anyway, it's for the best!” The redhead assures.

Kori glared. She knew what Suzie was up to—but fair enough. Maybe this made them even. No more holding that iced coffee bribe over her head.

Without delay, Lydia reached for Kori’s hand again. Kori followed without complaint, happily drifting into her own little heaven. Lydia may have been chatting as they walked, but Kori was too distracted by how warm her hand felt in hers. She just nodded and smiled at whatever Lydia was saying.

By the time Kori snapped back to reality, they were already outside again—at the top of the same hill that overlooked the lake. Lydia handed her something unfamiliar.

“What’s this?” Kori asked, visibly confused, making the small giggle.

“A board,” Lydia grinned. “We’re going to race to the lake. First one down wins. That’s our finish line.” She pointed toward the sparkling water in the distance. “Ready?”

“Oh, fuck yeah! I was born ready. Be prepared to lose.”

But Lydia didn’t lose.

Not the first time. Not the second. Or the third. No matter how hard Kori pushed, Lydia always managed to be just a little faster. It didn’t make sense—Kori was significantly heavier, and they were using the same board.

By the sixth race, Kori finally gained enough momentum to zoom past the witch. This time, she was going to win. Except she was also going way too fast.

The lake loomed ahead, and there was no way to stop in time. She was about to sail straight into the water in front of the most beautiful girl she’d ever met—and Suzie would never let her live it down.

Right before she made contact, Lydia called out: “Don’t worry, I’ve got you!”

Her board, suspended midair, came to a gentle stop just above the water’s surface. Then, she was softly lowered back onto dry land, right beside Lydia.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently, concern etched across her face. “Did you get hurt?” Her eyes scanned the tall girl from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine! Not a scratch!” Kori replied, then paused as something clicked. “Wait a second—is that how you kept winning?!”

Lydia burst out laughing, breathless and unapologetic. “Sorry! It was fun while it lasted.” Her laugh was quite infectious, Kori wouldn’t mind getting used to hearing it.

They both collapsed in the grass by the lake, giggling.

“So… what is your magic exactly?” Kori asks, brushing wind-tousled hair from her face.

“I can use wind and water magic” Lydia replied, smiling. “I knew would be able to stop you one way or the other”

“Well, I’m never racing with you again” the tall girl jokes.

“Why? Are you a sore loser by any chance?” she shot right back, smirking

“Especially when someone cheats! But… you're forgiven I can't stay mad at you even if I tried it” she laughs at herself.

“Glad to know” Lydia said warmly, then turned to gaze at the body of water in front of them. Her voice softened. “I can't remember the last time I had this much fun! You and Suzie… you're really nice!”

There was something wistful in her tone that caught Kori’s attention.

“Do you like it here, at the coven?”

“I do,” Lydia said, hugging her knees to her chest. “It’s my home. But… I guess I’m a little bored?”

“And why is that?”

Lydia turned to her, and Kori gently tucked a loose strand of black hair behind the small girl’s ear.

“I've been here for so long, it's all I've ever known.” she says with such a serene look in her eyes.

“You can't leave? Kori asked, voice firm. “Because if that’s the case, I’ll fight every witch in this place. They won’t know what hit them.” She says full of conviction.

Lydia laughed, gently shaking her head. “I can leave” she takes a long pause before saying just under her breathe, almost as if admitting to herself than telling the blonde “I just don't know how to”

“Is there a place you wanna go, or something you wanna do?” Kori asks after letting the silence settle for a moment.

“I wanna experience what it's like outside” she said with a quiet sigh. “But I haven’t really thought much about it before now.” She glanced away. “Sorry for bringing down the mood, I didn't realize I was holding that in”

Kori smiled. “You said we’re friends, right?”

Lydia nodded, though not really being sure where the blonde was going with this.

“Exactly. That means no apologizing for being honest.” she assures the small girl.
Kori went on to talk about what she knows best—herself— how joining the guild really changed her life and molded into the person she became, her friends and their travels, the way she sees the world in general. She shared stories, lessons, and jokes. Every time she worried she was rambling, Lydia would smile and say:

“Keep going. I’m enjoying it.”

And Kori believed her.

Eventually the same red butterfly from earlier fluttered down from the sky to seek for Lydia, once again landing on her little finger. The moment was magical—and this time, Kori wasn’t in a rush for it to end.

They returned to the same room as before — same chairs, same enormous table, same towering bookshelves occupying half the walls, same plants trailing from the ceiling, even the same people turned to look as the door creaked open. But for Kori, everything felt different.

The tension that once gripped the space had softened. Maybe it was the way Suzie looked like everything had finally fallen into place. Maybe it was that Mistress no longer seemed seconds away from skinning them alive. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the quiet strength of standing side by side with Lydia after the little connection they’d shared.

To be fully honest, Kori didn't really pay attention to what was the resolution for the whole ordeal. She did catch a couple words here and there, but she had full intention of asking Suzie for a summary on the way home — if she cared enough. (She didn’t.) Her mind kept drifting to the black haired girl across the room, staring into the distance with a thousand-miles look on her pretty face. That was probably how they’d see each other — from a distance, for a while at least. The thought made Kori’s chest ache. Saying goodbye to a new friend so soon hurt more than she expected.

“Did we cover everything, Miss Toot?” Mistress asked, looking up from the stack of papers.

“I believe we did.” Suzie beamed with pride, clearly pleased with herself and making no attempt to hide it. She gathered her documents into a tidy folder and turned to blonde. “Ready to go?”

“Are you sure you girls don’t want to stay the night?” the older witch offered, her voice surprisingly warm. “It’s quite a long trip back, and getting late. We can make arrangements if you'd prefer to rest first.”

The girls politely declined. If they caught the train from the nearest city, they could still make it home tonight. Lydia looked visibly disappointed, though she stayed quiet — until Mistress tilted her head and asked, “Is there something you’d like to say, Lydia?”

The small girl hesitated, glancing from one friend to the other — mostly at Kori — before fixing her gaze on the older witch, now with a steadier look in her eyes.

“Can I go with them?”

Mistress chuckled, as if she’d been expecting it. “I knew this day would come,” she said warmly. “You can go, if they’ll have you.”

Suzie was stunned. "What the hell happened when it was just the two of them outside?!" she wondered, wide-eyed. Kori looked equally shocked — but far more thrilled, like she’d just won the grand prize. “Of course you can!” she said. “We’d love to have you join the guild.”

Mistress and Suzie exchanged a few practical words, agreeing the details could be sorted out later. For now, they all said their goodbyes.

The air buzzed with energy — the kind that only comes with new beginnings. None of them could wait to see each other again.

During the week it took for Lydia to settle into the guild — between the paperwork, moving logistics, and general chaos — there was only one topic on everyone’s lips: the new witch in town.

Yes, everyone at the guild was a mage. They could all use magic, and most were fairly skilled at it. But a witch? That was rare. Witches usually lived undercover, blending into society for their own protection. It wasn’t just uncommon to meet one — it was unheard of to live with one.

Speculation ran wild.

A small blonde was hoping she would be ugly and wrinkly, while her tall friend was super excited about the fact she wouldn't be the oldest in the building anymore. They were both absolutely devastated to hear that, according to the official records, she's not only quite beautiful—- she’s younger than all of them.

A sharp-tongued girl muttered that she hoped the witch was a bitch. Her friend chimed in, saying they should give her a hard time just to see how long she’d last. The guild master shut that down fast, making it crystal clear that no one was to mess with the newcomer. The girls nodded — and then fumed about it privately. The one that usually took care of the kitchen was excited to know what types of food the new girl must like the most, already planning on making it for her.

Others speculated about her magic — what kind of spells a real witch could cast, how strong she was, whether she could hold her own in a fight. But all that was classified. For now, they'd have to wait and find out.

The first day was rough for the small witch. Not because anyone was rude—far from it. But being new meant all eyes were on her: curious, eager, intense. She was the fresh face in town, and everyone had a million questions. They talked over each other, too loud and too fast, introducing themselves in a blur of names and voices. It was overwhelming. A few were away on business, but even so, the crowd felt too big to keep track of. She could only hope she'd eventually remember everyone's faces, their names, and maybe—if she was extra lucky—grow to fit in.

Kori really had her back during all of it. She made sure the group gave her some space and not be all at once on her. The small witch appreciated it more than she could say it.

Lydia's look stood out, dark and defiant: a loose black button-up shirt that is slightly sheer, a leopard-print mini skirt, clunky boots over fishnets, and silver accessories that gleamed like little spells. A black leather beret completed the ensemble, worn with effortless edge. She looked like someone who might press a dagger to your throat for looking at her the wrong way.

But truthfully? Lydia was reserved, almost shy. Being surrounded by so many strangers—even friendly ones—was absolutely terrifying.

Next to her, Kori radiated confidence. Her one-shoulder magenta crop top hugged her frame, matching the skirt that curved perfectly around her hips. Around her neck hung a delicate Venus symbol—something the small witch would soon learn she always wore.

When the group surged toward them, voices overlapping and excitement bubbling over, Kori stepped in front of Lydia without hesitation. Shielding her, subtly, so that all they saw of the witch was a flash of black hair and cautious eyes peeking out from beside her shoulder.

As the conversation flowed on, Lydia began to breathe a little easier. She relaxed, inching closer until she stood fully beside Kori. Not hidden anymore. Just… safe.

Kori’s group of friends took Lydia under their wing from the start—and, thankfully, they clicked right away. It was a huge relief for the tall girl. Everything was new to Lydia, so Jewels and Lana made it their mission to help her feel familiarized by her new surroundings. They showed her around town, to the tourist attractions, to the more hidden places they liked to hang out, to the places they liked to go shopping, even to the places she should avoid at all costs. They both seemed so enthusiastic to be doing this with her that Lydia couldn’t help but feel welcomed.

During that week, it was also decided Lydia would be training with them until she was ready to actually ready to take on real quests and longer assignments. Kori gave her a full rundown ahead of time—how the guild system worked, the variety of jobs they could take, what are the expectations going on, and the types of work dynamics the guild has… Eventually they got around talking about how it worked for their group and what type of magic they all have.

“Lydia, what position do you take when using magic?” Jewels asks all excited, Lydia tilts her head and blinks, clearly having no idea what the cheerful girl was getting at.

“Do you fight in the front or back?” Lana says, trying to make it more clear but failing to get the point across, the small witch looks just as confused as before.

“I think we should explain how magic works in combat before trying to place her anywhere,” Suzie cut in, casting the other two a look that said "seriously?" before continuing, “Magic tends to fall into five categories: offensive, defensive, healing, enhancing, and lifestyle. Each branch has its strengths and weaknesses, and most of us don’t just fit into one box.”

Lydia was clearly following now, her expression intent as Suzie went on.

“Since we take on real missions, we need strategy. We all work toward the same goal, and each person’s magic plays a role in making things go smoothly.” “On top of that, some of us can use weapons on top of using magic, so that also comes into play when planning the best course of action” Kori adds.

Suzie looked mildly annoyed at the interruption, which made Jewels giggle.

“As I was saying,” Suzie resumed, a touch dramatically, “our magic and skills—magical or not—shape how we work together. It’s probably easiest if we each show you what we do in the field.”

She stood up from the grass, stepping back so Lydia could see her better. “My magic is metal manipulation. I can shape parts of my body into metal, giving me a big edge in close-range combat.” She raised her arms, transforming her hands into gleaming copper fists.

“She's a true metalhead” Kori jokes

A coin whizzed through the air and smacked Kori’s arm.

“You bitch!” Kori clutched her side in mock offense, then burst into laughter.

“As you can see,” Suzie said with a smirk, “I can manage long-range too if needed. But yeah, I’m usually on the front lines.”

She waved Kori forward next.

“My magic enhances my body and weapons. I can summon and swap them at will.” She lifted her hand and, with a sudden shimmer, a katana appeared in her grasp. A few teasing cheers erupted from the others.

“I know, I know. You love the show,” Kori teased, bowing playfully. “I accept compliments in all forms.”

“Shouldn't you also mention how jealous you are of your girls?!” Lana called out, making everyone laugh—except Lydia, who was still catching up with the group’s inside jokes.

“Don't worry about it, Lydia” Jewels whispered. “We’re a bit much, but it’s all love.”

“Not too much now!” Kori playfully rolls her eyes “I fight on offense, right next to the Cooper Maiden over here.” She gestured to the redhead.

“Copper Maiden?” Lydia asked, glancing at Jewels beside her.

“Oh, it's really common for us to earn titles once you become more established in the scene. Usually it has to do with our magic skills but not exclusively, you know?!” Jewels explains so the girl can understand “Since Suzie’s shtick is all about metal, so does her nickname!”

“So you all have one too?”

“We do! Kori is Sunset Valkyrie — orange and pink are a big part of her brand!”

Beaming, Jewels stood up. “I’ll go next!” She walked a few steps away and spread her arms. “I use a form of spirit magic. I summon and tame the Lost Ones.” With a quick gesture, she cast a shimmering barrier around the group in the blink of an eye. “I’m mostly defense and support, but I can fight offensively… if I really have to.”

“Her nickname is Soul Catcher” Suzie chimed in. “She can tame the souls of anything that once had life — which is quite convenient, since she can't fight at all without it” she chuckles,

Jewels stuck her tongue out, and the group erupted in laughter.

“Just because I don't throw fists like you and Kori doesn't mean I'm not fierce!” Jewels posed dramatically, eyes fluttering, throwing in sound effects for flair. It only made the laughter louder.

“And obviously we saved the best for last, if I do say so myself” Lana announced with a smirk, standing up. “My magic is able to generate and manipulate thread. I'm mostly on support of the other three. I can use it for archery so I do really well with long distance attacks and I can also combine my threads with the girl's magics which is quite fun to use” the young girl demonstrates her full control of multiple threads at the same time.

“Her nickname is Golden Threads, which makes sense—her threads shimmer gold,” Kori whispered to Lydia, loud enough for Lana to hear, “and she just had to get gold highlights to match.”

“Excuse you!” Lana shot back. “It was either that or get back with my ex. I needed a change and the highlights were super cute!.”

“Sure girl, keep telling yourself that!” Jewels chuckled.

Lana looked fake-offended but laughed anyway, flipping her hair with dramatic flair. Even Lydia couldn’t help but laugh this time—finally beginning to feel like one of them.

Very early in the training sessions, it became very evident that Lydia possessed remarkable magic skills and impressive control over her mana. However, she lacked some experience and stamina— which was no surprise, considering she was as close to a couch potato as one could get without actually becoming one. But that's what these sessions were for: the perfect opportunity to grow.

The group was extremely supportive. They were staying to practice with her, helping when she seemed stuck, keeping her spirits high and that really helped the girl make progress quite fast. In such a short time, Lydia was fully adapted to their group and their shenanigans, allowing her to slowly open up around them.

At some point, Jewels decided that Lydia would make the perfect little dress-up doll. From then on, any free time the trio had, she and Lana could be found transforming Lydia into their ideal vision of cuteness—doing her hair, applying soft makeup, and dressing her in Jewels’ collection of frilly, pastel dresses. Dresses that, on her own, Lydia would never be caught dead in. Yet, strangely, she didn’t resist.

That afternoon, the three of them descended from Jewels’ room—where all the "magic" happened—to show off their latest creation to the rest of the group hanging out on the patio. “Are you guys ready for this transformation?! I think we cooked hard with this one!” Lana announced, stepping out first and drawing everyone’s attention.

“If anyone says anything mean about our masterpiece, I won’t forgive you!” Jewels followed, grinning ear to ear, tugging Lydia along by the hand. “Isn’t she just gorgeous, mi muñequita?” she cheered, clapping gleefully.

“She looks adorable,” Kori gasped, visibly stunned before collecting herself. “Lyds, you really don't have to let them do this to you if you don't want to, right?! You look just as beautiful in your casual wear!”

“I don’t mind,” Lydia replied with a soft smile. “I kind of like being dressed up.” She did a little twirl, allowing everyone to see the full effect.

Her glossy black hair was styled half-up, half-down: the upper sections divided at her middle part, each side tied into bubble braids adorned with dainty white bows, topped with a bigger one. The lower half spilled into soft, bouncy curls. Her makeup remained close to her everyday look, just enhanced to make her eyes look bigger and softer, her lips tinted with a lighter ombré. The dress was white with pale blue and yellow accents on the bodice, decorated with tiny, hand-painted flowers—gentle but striking. She wore long lace gloves, puffy sleeves, a flowing ruffled skirt, and a big bow at the open back. She truly did look like a doll.

“I never seen you wear something like this before” Suzie remarked, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I made this one just for Lydia,” Jewels said proudly. “It’s inspired by a dress I used to love as a kid.”

“Your obsession is going too far if you're sewing Lydia clothes she won't ever wear! How did you even paint the fabric? You can't paint.” Suzie asks not really sure if she wants to know the answer.

“Kori was the one who painted actually” Lana chimes in, looking quite happy with herself too

“You're endorsing this insanity, really?!” The redhead gives a full turn to face the blonde, that looks like she just got caught doing something she shouldn't, well because she just did.

“I thought it was a really cute idea,” Kori protested, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can’t you be nice just once?”

“You don't like what I made?” Jewels pouted, her grin replaced with a dramatic frown.

“I didn’t say that. It’s really well made, and honestly, it’s gorgeous. But you need to stop doing this before poor Lydia has an identity crisis!”

“Oh dear, it sounds like a perfect time for freshly baked cookies,” Hormona said as she appeared like a gentle breeze, placing a warm tray on the table. “They’re still hot, but safe to eat.” And just like that, she vanished again.

Lydia’s face lit up like a kid at a festival. She practically bounced over, humming happily.

How can someone be this cute? Kori thought.

“Lyds, come here and grab some!” she called, patting the seat beside her on the sofa. Lydia practically bolted over, plopped down beside her, opened her mouth, and said, “Ahh.”

Kori chuckled but surely gave in to the girl's wishes, picking up a cookie, gently blowing on it before feeding it to her. Lydia hummed in delight, flashing a bright smile.

“Ohh! I wanna give her one too!” Jewels exclaimed.

“Didn't you just agree on not treating her like a doll?” The blonde raises an eyebrow as she promptly feeds another cookie to the girl in question.

“Like you have any right to talk, you're literally feeding her right now!” Suzie deadpans

“I never said I was part of the promise, did I?” Kori remarks, looking far too pleased by the disgusted look Suzie got on her face.

The conversation shifted after that—plans for tomorrow’s mission. Everyone was packing and preparing for a two-week expedition, everyone except Lydia, who was still a bit too green.

They start talking about what they need to get ready later, revise the roots they will be taking, how everyone’s packing situations at the moment, what type of things they might find on their way there. But Kori couldn’t truly focus on the topic. All she could think about was the fact that Lydia would be alone for the two weeks they would be gone.

She wasn't the one who was gonna bring it up. But someone else did.

“Hey, Lydia… you’ll be okay by yourself in the guild, right?” Lana asked gently. From the looks on everyone’s faces, she wasn’t the only one thinking it.

“Do we have to go? Can’t we take her with us as, like… emotional support luggage?” Jewels whined.

“We all know we can't do that” Suzie sighed. Even she didn’t like the answer.

“I'm worried about leaving you alone, I know you can take care of yourself but I'll be sad not having you with me” Kori says more to herself than to actually be heard, but fully facing Lydia the whole time, almost as asking her to make her stay.

“I'll be okay, you really don't have to worry” she says calmly, gently giving Kori headpats “I'll be here when you guys get back, okay?”

“Aww, she’s really tamed that dog, hasn’t she?!” Lana jokes, breaking the sad mood and setting off a round of laughter.

“Oh, fuck off” Kori groaned, though she's laughing just as hard.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—fun, chaotic, heartwarming—and it felt wrong to split up now. Sure, there were plenty of times she wasn't with the other girls and they were just fine, they sometimes even went on smaller quests without everyone going, and it was never a big deal. But it felt different this time, the blonde truly felt bad, almost guilty by going.

The blonde didn’t fully understand why it bothered her so much. All she knew was that the little witch was special to her and she liked her presence. And though two weeks apart should be fine… right?!

Ohh Kori had no idea what would be waiting for her when she got back…

Chapter Text

The two weeks had felt ridiculously long for the group. The quest itself was fine—just a few annoying bumps along the way—but they got the job done, and that was what really mattered. Everyone had a different opinion on how it went, but one thing they all agreed on: they were fucking exhausted and fully prepared to sleep for three days straight before even pretending to feel human again.

They returned to the guild mid-afternoon, dreams of long showers and uninterrupted sleep on their minds. Lana decided to head over to her sister’s place instead, but she’d definitely be doing the same—just in a different bed. The only one who didn’t have the luxury of immediate rest was Kori. She had paperwork to finish, and that was the absolute last thing she wanted to be doing.

Now, you might be wondering—why was it always Kori handling the reports, especially when there were four people in the group? Easy: because the others were comically bad at it.

Suzie, for one, was an overthinker to the extreme. It took her three days to finish a single report, and they were packed with so many irrelevant details you needed a nap just to get through page five—of twelve. Jewels, in classic bilingual fashion, couldn’t keep to one language. Half her reports would be in Spanish, the other half in English, and if that wasn’t enough, she insisted on writing in glitter pens and doodling on the margins like it was a middle school diary. And Lana? Lana couldn’t remember half of what they did. At all. She’s the type who would forget her own head if it wasn’t attached.

So, naturally, Kori was the only one capable of writing a coherent, passable report—and that meant she always ended up doing it. Was it annoying? Oh, absolutely. But she usually didn’t mind. The threat of having to rewrite someone else’s mess was more than enough motivation to get it right the first time.

After being locked in the office for a few hours, Kori finally finished and dragged herself down to the kitchen. She needed food—desperately—before even thinking about sleep. Honestly, she wanted to see Lydia too, but she wasn’t sure her brain could handle that in its current state. She’d spent way too much time thinking about the little witch while she was away. At some point, Lydia had gone from a fond thought to her default one, and Kori had tried to rationalize it—unsuccessfully.

It always started with something small: a flower that reminded her of Lydia, a small pebble she’d want to give her, a moment she’d want to share. Then it spiraled—how much she missed her, every detail that made her beautiful, every memory they’d made together. It was a cycle, and there was no escaping it. Lydia had taken over her brain completely, and Kori was painfully aware of it. She was screwed. And she just hoped it wasn’t too obvious—especially to Lydia.

In the kitchen, Hormona was making dinner. Or at least, that’s what Kori assumed—she wasn’t really paying attention until the sugary scent in the air hit her nose. That got her attention. She looked up, finally noticing the girl in a baby pink apron. Hormona caught her expression and giggled.

“Did I just pick your interest, Kori?” she lightly teased, placing a large casserole on the counter.

“What’s with the sweet smell? Are you baking at this hour?” She asked, intrigued.

“Oh yeah. Cherry pie!” Hormona pointed proudly to one cooling by the window.
“It’s for tomorrow’s mock battles. I’ve been baking all day—cinnamon rolls, lemon bars, a chocolate cake, too.”

“Mock battles? Who's fighting?” Kori asked, sipping from her absurdly large, bedazzled tumbler.

“Well, you’ve been gone for a bit, so I guess it makes sense you haven’t heard. Lydia’s gonna be—”

“Lydia?” Kori choked mid-sip, coughing violently. She set the tumbler down, still catching her breath. “Why is Lydia fighting tomorrow when I wasn’t even here to chaperone her?”

Her tone dropped low—serious.

“I don’t know either,” Hormona admitted with a sigh. “The Guild Master would have the answer, I guess. I’ve been freaking out about it myself. Baking’s been my coping mechanism. I mean, she’s going up against Arrietty of all people!”

That was all Kori needed to hear. The second the name left Hormona’s mouth, she bolted from the room, sprinting to find the small witch.

Standing outside Lydia’s door, Kori’s mind raced. No way she was letting anything happen to her. Not on her watch. She knocked—but didn’t wait for an answer before easing the door open.

She peeked in.

There was Lydia, calmly working at a crowded table. Her round glasses perched low on her nose, dark circles visible under her eyes, freckles dotting her pale skin. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, bangs clipped back, dressed in a loose black dressing gown that stood out starkly against her complexion.

Kori’s thoughts evaporated.

Her heart stopped.

Even like this—no makeup, hair a mess, in a robe—Lydia was effortlessly beautiful.

Kori was helpless against it.

“Kori, hey!” Lydia beamed when she saw her, a huge smile lighting up her face. Her blue eyes sparkled like stars.

“Hey, Lyds,” Kori replied, walking in. She leaned her head on Lydia’s shoulder and loosely wrapped her arms around her from behind. “What’re you working on?” she asked softly—completely different from her frantic mood just moments before.

“Just some potions. Nothing crazy,” Lydia said, totally unfazed by the closeness—and not moving away either. “How was the job?”

“It was okay. Nothing crazy,” Kori echoed, deliberately mimicking her. Lydia giggled.

That laugh sent Kori’s awareness into overdrive. She was way too close. She could smell Lydia’s shampoo. Her hands rested on Lydia’s waist, separated from bare skin by just one thin layer of fabric. Kori didn’t want to move. She didn’t dare make it weird. Lydia wasn’t flinching or pulling away—she looked completely at ease. Why couldn’t she be this cool-headed?

Her blush must’ve been visible, even through her dark skin. And yet… part of her didn’t care. She just wanted to stay here, pressed against Lydia’s warmth, talking about anything and everything—making up for every second she’d missed while they were apart.

Kori didn’t say a word. She just stayed there, watching Lydia work—carefully measuring dried herbs, mixing them with precise amounts of solution, inspecting it closely before using magic to bind it all together. She portioned it into small glass vials, her focus never breaking.

Still, her head rested gently against Kori’s, a silent acknowledgement that said: You can stay. No words needed.

They stayed like that, lost in quiet comfort, until a knock at the door called them both to dinner.

It wasn’t until they stood up that Kori remembered why she’d come in the first place.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath—but not quietly enough. Lydia turned to her, curious.

Kori stiffened, suddenly realizing just how alone they were. Alone, in Lydia’s room. Together. For half an hour. And it was bliss.

She inhaled deeply, grounding herself. No time for gay panic. They had business to handle.

“Lyds, about tomorrow…” Kori said directly, her voice more serious than usual.

“What about it?” Lydia tilted her head slightly, clearly unsure what the blonde was getting at.

“The mock battle,” Kori rushed out. “Did anyone even give you a proper heads-up? Do you have a plan? Have you been training while I was away? Did you ever do anything like this back at the coven? Because I can figure out a way to stop it if you’re not ready—”

“Kori,” Lydia interrupted gently, her tone calm but firm. She stepped closer, having to look up to meet Kori’s eyes. “Take a breath, okay? Just explain what’s going on in that head of yours so I can follow.” She reached up and patted Kori’s head with a soft smile. It seems it had become their thing now—her quiet way of grounding the taller girl.

“I should be the one comforting you right now,” Kori chuckled, realizing how manic she probably sounded. Yet Lydia didn’t look overwhelmed at all—if anything, she just looked… understanding. Grounded. “We should eat first,” Kori said, finally calming down. “We’ve got a lot to work on afterward.”

Lydia simply nodded and reached for Kori’s hand, lacing their fingers together without hesitation. Kori’s thoughts were still spinning, but she didn’t fight it. She didn’t want to.

They ate quickly. Lydia could tell Kori wasn’t kidding about how serious she was—she looked genuinely worried. It was strange, seeing her like this: so different from her usual carefree, slightly chaotic self. It made Lydia anxious too, but she forced herself to eat, knowing she’d regret it later if she didn’t.

Once they were back in Lydia’s room, Kori laid everything out.

She explained what mock battles at the guild were actually about—how they were a chance for adventurers to show off their skills, to prove they were ready for bigger quests. It was where you earned your first nickname, where you made your debut to the rest of the guild. For new recruits, the match was more about display than actual combat. They were supposed to go up against a seasoned adventurer who would hold back—no one was meant to get hurt. It was a rite of passage everyone went through early on.

That was the idea, anyway.

But then Kori got to the part that really mattered: tomorrow’s opponent.

She didn’t sugarcoat it. Arrietty had a reputation—and not a good one. She had a long, well-documented history of taking things too far. She thrived on fighting newbies, using it to boost her ego and humiliate her opponents. And she played dirty. Not evil, exactly—but definitely not kind.

Her nickname, Crimson Rain, came from her brutal blend of fire and dark magic. She was unpredictable, and people never expected the kind of tricks she pulled. For her, it wasn’t just about winning—it was about breaking her opponent, and bragging about it after.

Kori recounted a few of her past “victories,” glossing over the details to spare Lydia, but even so, the witch looked visibly shaken.

“Don’t worry, Lyds,” Kori said gently, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m not gonna let that happen to you. We’re going to be prepared.”

Lydia leaned her head against Kori’s shoulder, seeking the comfort the blonde was more than ready to give. Kori wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, gently running her hand up and down Lydia’s arm. They sat on the bed in soft light, the window cracked open to let in the evening breeze.

Kori should’ve been panicking. She was in Lydia’s room, again—second time today. And the witch was still in her black dressing gown. Kori knew now there were only undergarments underneath it, thanks to a casual comment Lydia made earlier before dinner. There was no time to spiral now, but she would later. She fully planned on replaying every detail of this moment for the next ten years in gay panic.

“Do you have anything like mock battles back in the coven?” Kori asked after a while.

“Not like this,” Lydia replied, voice quiet. “Ours were more like demonstrations—just showing what we could do. No actual fighting.” She paused, then looked up at her. “Shouldn’t you be resting? You’ve gotta be exhausted.”

“As if I’d sleep knowing you’re going up against Arrietty,” Kori said with a dry laugh. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me right now.”

“So… what’s the plan then?” Lydia asked, lifting her head from Kori’s shoulder, looking directly at the blonde. Her blue eyes shimmered even in the low light, it was quite beautiful. “Will my water and wind magic be enough to beat her?”

“I won't come up with anything if you keep looking at me like that, babe,” Kori laughed, suddenly flustered and glancing away. “If you keep it up, I won’t be able to think straight—literally.”

Lydia giggled, but Kori was already shifting into action.

“I think I’ve got something in mind,” she said, climbing off the bed. “But we’ll need Suzie’s input to know if it’ll work.” She turned and offered Lydia a hand to help her up—one she didn’t let go of until they reached the redhead’s room.

Kori didn’t bother knocking.

She threw the door open, letting it slam behind them.

“Fire crotch, wake it up, hoe!” The blonde yells. She turns on the lights and starts waking to the bed, where Suzie looks completely knocked out, even with all the disturbance.

Lydia, standing by the door, just frozen, unsure what to do in this chaotic moment.

Jewels was the first to stir, groggily lifting her head and glaring at Kori with half-lidded eyes. Her usual cheerful demeanor was nowhere to be found—she was clearly pissed.

“Kori, what the fuck?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Jewels, we are having a group meeting” Kori said matter-of-factly, flopping down onto the bed. She patted the spot beside her, silently telling Lydia to join.

“No, we’re sleeping, go to your own bed!” Jewels groaned, resting her head back into Suzie's chest, who still hasn't even moved. She faces away from Kori, pulling the covers back over her head, clearly having no interest in continuing this conversation.

The blonde’s tone grew lower and more serious. “Lydia’s fighting Crimson Rain tomorrow.”

Jewels shot up immediately, eyes wide. “What? Are you serious?!” she exclaimed. Both Kori and Lydia nodded. “Okay, I’m waking Suzie.”

If you haven't noticed yet, waking up Suzie wasn't so simple. No matter how much noise and chaos Kori could summon up, the redhead wouldn't even stir. So they had to pull out the big guns, aka Jewels Sparkles, to deal with Suzie with her special skill set.

Jewels leaned over the bed and, just inches away from Suzie’s face, whispered loudly “Gimme a big kiss, Tootsie!” Then she made obnoxious kissing noises.

And it worked like a charm. Just like it did every single time.

Suzie shot up in a panic, almost leaping out of the bed, looking ready to jump out of the window before she could even notice what was going on.

Kori laughed hard, throwing her head back and everything. Seeing Suzie freak out never got old. Lydia stood by, confused and unsure what to think, but she wasn’t going to ask any questions.

“Ugh, of course it's you, Kori!” Suzie grumbled, trying to calm down, looking completely unamused by her friend's unexpected presence. She wiped a hand over her face as she sat back on the bed next to Jewels. “What's going on here? I have no interest in seeing your ugly face at this ungodly hour.”

“I love you too, Boots,” Kori said, rolling her eyes. “It's an emergency. You might actually be useful for once, so you should be really happy!” She chuckles.

Jewels spoke up, now more serious.“Lydia is going against Arrietty tomorrow” Suzie blinked, finally realizing Lydia was in the room. “We can't let it happen to her, too!” Jewels finished.

“Oh, so we’re getting serious? Fuck yeah,” Kori said, glancing at Lydia—who still looked visibly confused. “Suzie’s first fight against her didn’t go well, that’s all.”

“Didn’t go well? Do you have a worse way of putting that?” Suzie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Arrietty can cast dark magic mid-fight. By the time you realize you're stuck, it's already too late. Then she just... toys with you. Tortures her opponent for the fun of it. It was horrifying, honestly. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Jewels added, eyes flicking toward the redhead beside her. She reached over, gently taking Suzie’s hand. “Kori did beat her though—in their own fight. Wiped the floor with her before Arrietty could even start casting. I wish I’d seen it with my own eyes.” She glanced toward Lydia. “And yeah… she beat Lana up too. Badly. Which was worse because they were actually kinda friends before that.”

“So… everyone here has fought her,” Lydia said slowly, “but only Kori won?” Not being sure if she’s ready for the answer.

“Jewels beat her too,” Suzie clarified, “but not as a rookie. That’s the difference. The point is—going in unprepared is basically asking for a disaster.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re all here,” Kori cut in, clapping once to snap the tension. “Lydia doesn’t need more reasons to panic—what she needs is a plan. And I’ve got one. But I’m gonna need your help to make it work.” Her eyes sparkled with a familiar glint of mischief.

Kori was the last to join the group in the bleachers of the sparring hall. She made an entrance in a hot pink mini dress, her blonde hair in a half-updo, french tips freshly done, and her venus necklace resting on her chest. In one hand, she carried her massive, bedazzled tumbler, full of ice and some radioactive-colored drink that somehow looked both dangerous and delicious. She looked great—exhausted, slightly anxious, but great. She flopped down into her seat and took a long sip.

“Kori clearly didn’t get the clean girl memo,” Lana said dryly, breaking the tension.

Kori raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“We’re all on edge today, so soft vibes were mandatory,” Jewels explained, gesturing to the group’s more subdued looks.

“Oh please,” Lana snorted. “Name one time Kori has been soft in her life. I’ll wait.”

That earned a laugh from the whole group.

Lana was wearing a flowy champagne-colored summer dress, a simple headband in her hair, her soft waves falling all the way down to her waist. Jewels had on a beige sweater vest with the white collar and cuffs of the shirt peeking through underneath—both stolen from Suzie’s closet. She paired it with her own pleated skirt, her hair in a side braid tied off with a small bow. Suzie, clearly styled by the outfit thief beside her, wore a brown jacket over a plain white tee, khaki green shorts with tiny embroidery details, and a brown newsboy hat perched on her mess of copper curls. Indeed, they’re all somehow coordinated in their own styles.

“How’s Lydia?” Suzie asked once the laughter died down.

“Nervous, but as ready as she’ll ever be,” Kori replied, as someone handed a bag of popcorn.. .“You people are crazy. Popcorn at 9am? That's too much!” she says flabbergasted

“So you’re not eating yours?” came a voice from behind, thick with a southern drawl. “Guess I’ll take it—I want somethin’ to snack on while this shitshow kicks off.”

Kori didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“A witch versus an elf is not a sight you get to see everyday, I'm excited!” is heard from a girl further away from the group.

“I’m betting the little witch either runs back to her coven or breaks down crying,” added the other girl next to her, already grinning with anticipation.

“As long as I’m entertained, I don’t really care which,” she chuckled.

“Does it kill you to be nice for once, Samantha?” Suzie snapped, clearly annoyed.

Before Sam could fire back, Kori cut in sharply, not even looking at them.

“Shut up—or you’re going against me next,” she said bluntly.

There was no mistaking her tone. Kori could be intimidating when she wanted, and right now, she wanted. The girls behind them sank back in their seats, suddenly very uninterested in continuing the conversation. Kori took another slow sip of her drink, eyes on the arena.

“Lydia’s guard dog’s on duty,” Lana teased with a fake bark, bringing a bit of levity back into the group just as the announcer stepped up to begin the match.

They all sat at the edge of their seats, ready to intervene if necessary. There were crunches of popcorn and slurps of drinks, but no one was really speaking—every eye fixed forward, eagerly awaiting the buzz that would initiate the fight.

Kori glanced at Lydia, who had fully committed to the part of the witch in everyone’s mind: long sleeved victorian gothic black dress, pointy black hat shadowing most of her face from afar. Even so, Kori caught a small smile on the girl’s lips and a shine in her eyes. She’s confident. Well, yes—she should be, Kori thought, settling more comfortably into her chair.

The truth was, they probably had no reason to be nervous at all. In hindsight, they should’ve made bets, maybe earned a little money off what turned out to be a sure thing. Their plan? It was good. But what Lydia delivered? That was something else—beyond anything they could have expected.

During their late-night strategy session, Suzie had brought up the fact that Arrietty’s dark magic took time to become effective—it was a numbers game. Jewels noted there would be a barrier protecting the crowd from any stray spells. Kori had asked if Lydia could cast multiple spells at once. Lydia confirmed she could, giving the group more confidence to build their plan.

It wasn’t like they could design anything too elaborate anyway. Most fights came down to observing your opponent and reacting accordingly—and Lydia wasn’t a mind reader. She had no way of knowing what the elf would do.

But they did have a few aces up their sleeves.

First, no one really knew what Lydia was capable of—an edge in any battle.

Second, her water magic directly countered Arrietty’s fire spells, which would push the elf to rely on her slower, more limited dark magic.

Third—and most crucially—Lydia had time to prepare.

And that made all the difference.

The moment the battle started, the arena was flooded with a thick fog. Even the projectors couldn’t pierce it. From outside the barrier, the crowd strained to see what was happening. Kori and Suzie, however, exchanged a knowing look and chuckled. The little witch sure knew how to keep them on their toes.

Soon, the fog began to shift, concentrating mostly on Arrietty’s side of the field. Through the haze, faint lights appeared. They moved slowly, blinking in and out of sight—but definitely moving. No one could say what they were looking at, exactly, but the sight was awe-inspiring. Like a starry night, or fireflies dancing in the dark. Or, if you wanted to be whimsical about it, a thousand fairies living in the mist.

At one point beforehand, Lydia casually asked Suzie to make some of her copper coins. Suzie complied without question. No one would have guessed what the little witch had in mind—but whatever it was, it was beautiful.

All too soon, the match was called to an end.

No claps. No cheers. No sound at all.

Everyone was still processing what they had just witnessed, trying to find words for something their minds couldn’t quite make sense of. Slowly, the fog began to clear, revealing the aftermath.

The elf was on her knees, hands covering her face, staring at the floor—stunned, like she didn’t even know what had just happened. Lydia stood calm and composed, with no visible injuries, no signs of struggle. She had pulled it off. She won.

And no one was surprised when the official announcement confirmed it.

Kori nearly sprinted across the floor to reach Lydia, throwing her arms around the smaller girl, lifting her up and spinning her in a tight hug. Relief, joy, pride—it all poured out at once. She was so glad it was over.

Lydia hadn’t even noticed Kori approaching until she was already in her arms. The warmth broke through whatever was going on in her mind, and she giggled as she was spun around. She hugged Kori back tightly, beaming the biggest smile—blue eyes squinting, sparkling like little gems. Kori just wanted to steal her away right then and there. No words were needed; the feelings in the air said everything.

The rest of their group soon joined them on the field to shower Lydia with hugs and congratulations, already planning how they were going to celebrate with some mimosas later that night. Other guild members quickly gathered too, eager to praise the young witch and gush about her performance.

Kori then noticed the guild master approaching. She glanced at her old friend, trying to sort out how she felt—still a little torn. Part of her was upset with Onya for allowing Lydia to be put in danger in the first place. But another part of her was grateful she’d given her the chance to shine. Kori wasn’t sure which feeling was winning.

Onya made her way straight through the crowd, heading directly for Lydia, not bothering to hide her grin.

“You can stop looking at me like that now. She did amazing, didn’t she?” she said to Kori with a chuckle and a quick pat on the back.

“She is amazing,” Kori corrected, eyes full of pride. “You better promote her so she can start going on quests with us.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Onya smirked, then turned to Lydia.

The little witch looked up at her, curious but calm. Onya didn’t make her wait.

“You’re officially off probation,” she announced. “You’ve more than proven yourself. Starting today, you’re eligible for quests. And also—congrats on earning your first alias.”

The group around them erupted into cheers, Kori obviously being the loudest of all.

Then, from the back, Hormona called out, “Snack break, everyone!”

And just like that, they were off.

Kori took Lydia’s hand and gave her one of those big, blinding smiles.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

Lydia nodded, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Yeah, I am.”

“What is taking you guys so long?! I didn’t even have breakfast today—let’s goooo!” Lana called out, already waiting at the big doors to the dining hall, with Jewels and Suzie standing by her side.

It didn’t take very long after Lydia was cleared for questing for the girls to get their first assignment as a group of five.

Nothing too serious—just some suspicious movement near a cave system way outside the city limits, with rumors of odd magic and disappearing wildlife. The type of vague concern that probably didn’t mean anything, but still needed someone to look into. So, the five of them packed up for a four-day scouting trip: camp, observe, document, and if all seemed clear, go exploring on the final day.

The trail leading to the cave wound through a quiet stretch of woodland, the summer heat softened under the shade of wide trees and fluttering leaves. Their boots crunched against dirt and scattered twigs, and the late afternoon sun filtered gold through the branches as the five of them made their way to the site.

While Kori was triple-checking supplies and going over the map to make sure they were in the right way, Lydia absolutely failing to hide her fascination with every new plant they passed on the way in, falling a bit behind the rest.

“This one’s got properties I’ve never seen before,” Lydia said, crouching to inspect a crooked stalk with glowing spores near the edge of the trail. “Might be some kind of bioluminescent fungus—” she murmured, reaching out.

Kori was beside her in an instant, her voice calm but firm. “Let’s not find out the hard way what that means, okay?.”

Lydia glanced up. “It’s just a little guy.”

“It’s never just a little thing out here,” Kori said, though her tone was gentler than it would’ve been with anyone else. She offered her hand. “Back on the trail, witch girl.”

With a teasing huff, Lydia accepted the hand and let Kori pull her up. But she didn’t let go, either.

Kori didn’t ask her to.

Suzie, up ahead, tossed a smirk over her shoulder. “You two holding hands already? Really now?” she teases.

Kori just raised an eyebrow. “You want me to let her get lured off by poisonous plants?”

“She is our friend and super powerful,” Jewels cheerfully added from behind the redhead girl. “I think we need her alive.”

“Exactly,” Kori said, squeezing Lydia’s hand playfully. The small girl just grinning in response.

Suzie piped up again, her voice thoughtful. “Still can’t stop thinking about what you did during your mock battle, diva. Turning my metal coins all iridescent with alchemy? That was genius.”

Lydia blinked. “Oh… thanks. I just thought it would disorient her enough to give me time.”

“It worked. No one couldn’t stop looking at them,” Suzie said, laughing. “You blinded me with glitter science. I’m not even mad.”

That got the others chuckling, and Suzie shook her head fondly. “Too bad your alias doesn’t reflect that kind of genius. Fairy Mist sounds like a brand of bath oil.”

Lydia groaned. “I know. I hate it. But we really don’t get to change them, do we?”

“Nope,” Kori said. “Nicknames are earned and get stuck with you until you earn another, it might take years until you get a new one and there is no guarantee it will be any better.”

“Sometimes they make sense. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they’re just punishment for living.” Lana chimed in.

“Oh please, yours isn't even that bad.” Kori said with a smirk. “My first alias was Scarlet Fever.”

Suzie snorted. “That’s still better than mine. Mine was Coin Flipper.”

“Wait, seriously?” Lydia blinked. “Just why?”

Suzie deadpanned. “Because when she hits too hard, it’s like catching the real thing—fever, delirium, then you’re down.”

“They all thought she was feral at first!” Lana added, snorting.

“Suzie’s was because of her long-range attacks looked too much like she was flipping coins at people, the poor thing!” Jewels chuckled.

“You do throw like a coin-obsessed maniac,” Kori pointed out.

Suzie rolled her eyes. “Only at you! Because you’re just ridiculous.” Kori acts offended, yet laughs with the others.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was content.

And as the path ahead slowly cleared into the flattened area they’d chosen for camp, Kori gave Lydia’s hand one final, gentle squeeze before letting go.

“Wake it up, girls,” she said, stepping forward. “Time to set up.”

By the time they reached the clearing near the cave, the sun was sinking low on the horizon. Bags hit the ground with collective relief, all stretching sore limbs and peeling off layers of travel gear.

Kori and Suzie got to work immediately, setting up tents with well-practiced efficiency.

“The muscle’s already moving,” Lana said, flopping onto the grass. “Truly, our brave meatheads.”

Jewels just nodded, pulling a small container from her bag. “They lift. We snack.”

Kori glanced over, catching Lydia tucking her hair behind her ear, and looked away quickly. Too quickly.

Suzie didn’t miss it.

“You’re not slick, y’know,” she said under her breath, handing Kori a stake. “Your massive crush on her is showing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kori muttered.

“Oh come on. The way you just keep holding hands or how you constantly need to have your eyes on her, does it ring a bell?!.” she teases.

Kori tied the rope tighter than necessary. “You’re the last person I wanna hear this about, bitch.”

“Just own it or hide it better, it's disgusting” The redhead playfully rolled her eyes.

“Like you have any room to talk, Boots!” Making them both crack.

Meanwhile, the other three lounged in the grass, cookie dough tub open between them.

Jewels offered it around. “Want some?”

“Sure,” Lana said. “I sure hope I don’t get syphilis from eating this.”

Jewels blinked. “Syphilis?”

“It’s salmonella,” Lydia deadpanned. “But go ahead.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s syphilis,” Lana replied, completely confident.

“Different kind of cookie dough might give you that,” Lydia said without missing a beat.

Jewels blinked again, then let out a soft, genuine laugh that caught them all off guard.

“God, you’re weird,” Lana said, grinning.

“Says the one getting STIs from snacks,” Lydia replied.

The laughter drifted through the trees, soft and easy.

Kori looked over once more, just for a second.

She smiled.

And this time, she didn’t try to hide it.

Taking a shower in the wilderness was an adventure in itself. Thankfully, the group had endured enough hardships to come up with ways to make it somewhat bearable—and, if they were lucky, even a little enjoyable. It had become a learned skill, and now it was time to teach Lydia the ropes.

Since Kori was the one usually in charge of taking care of Lydia, this task naturally fell to her too. But this? This was so much harder than warning the girl not to touch strange looking plants or stay on alert at all times. It just felt… wrong. The thought of Lydia—small, pale, and so unaware—stripping down and stepping into the water made Kori’s brain short-circuit. Her imagination wouldn’t shut up, no matter how hard she tried to keep things professional. And Lydia, for all her sharp wit, did not make it any easier.

Jewels had cast a barrier over the small stretch of river they’d chosen—no water beasts, no unexpected woodland creatures, no “fun” surprises. They knew when the water would be warmest and stillest: just around sundown, lingering a little into early evening, and that gave them a small window to bathe without the chill of the night setting in too quickly. Each girl had their turn—get in, clean up, and call the next one. Simple enough, right?

Yet Lydia had never done anything like this. She didn't seem too comfortable being alone in the middle of nowhere, where the world felt vast and utterly silent. Understandable, really. Screaming wouldn’t help you out here; no one would hear. Most of the group had gotten used to that kind of wilderness isolation. It was only natural for the witch to feel vulnerable in such an exposed place. Which meant Kori had to accompany her—to wait while she bathed.

Night had already fallen, the full moon casting silver ripples across the water. There was no strong wind, so it wasn’t too cold, but for Kori, it was a personal nightmare. She couldn’t see Lydia directly—not really—which was the only thing that made it somewhat manageable. But the moonlight betrayed her, carving out the outline of Lydia’s slender silhouette in the water, soft and slow and far too poetic. Kori’s imagination went places it absolutely shouldn’t. The gentle hum of Lydia’s voice while she washed herself, the quiet splashes, the way she completely submerged herself (even though she really shouldn’t—wet hair without proper drying was a recipe for misery), and then the sight of her slowly rising from the water, like some divine spirit made of moonlight and breath.

Kori had to push the oil lamp even farther away so Lydia wouldn’t see her face—just in case the witch glanced over. She found herself mesmerized, her cheeks burned, her mind raced, and she barely breathed the whole time. Longest five minutes of her life.

Lydia, blissfully unaware, hummed softly as she washed, oblivious to Kori’s inner turmoil. In fact, once she was done, she offered to watch over the blonde girl while she took her turn. Kori nearly choked on air and declined way too fast, mumbling something about being used to it.

That shower wasn’t for hygiene. It was for debriefing—mentally, emotionally, spiritually. She had to reset, get her thoughts in check. Because she couldn’t afford any of this to sneak up on her when Lydia was standing right beside her later.

When she returned to camp, her thoughts were clearer—shaky, but clearer. Dinner was already being shared around the campfire: chicken cutlet sandwiches with a big side of fries. The blonde chuckled, the sight alone was enough to pull her out of her head. A variation on the Suzie’s Special, as Kori liked to call it. The redhead was notoriously picky, having the taste buds of a toddler, and to avoid a meltdown every other night, half their meals were some form of chicken tenders and fries. So tonight, Lana had taken over dinner duty, crafting a “compromise meal” to keep the peace.

Suzie was the first to tell Lydia to double-check whether the food looked edible. The black-haired girl blinked and tilted her head in confusion, which only made the whole group burst into laughter.

Lana’s cooking was… daring. Most of the time? Genuinely good. The rest of the time? It was strong enough to take down a grown woman for days. They’d all learned that the hard way. A few kitchen-related ground rules were in place now, but the jokes would outlive them all.

As the fire dimmed and the night grew colder, it was decided that Kori would take first watch—camp security. It was a dull, boring job, but someone had to do it. The others said their goodnights and retreated to the tents they’d set up earlier. She settled by the fire with an old book and the comforting flicker of the oil lamp. The trees shivered around them in the cool night air, and the stars watched from afar.

But less than thirty minutes in, she heard someone approaching—light steps on soft dirt. Kori’s whole body tensed, ready to alert the others… until she saw her.

Lydia.

Draped in a massive comforter, grey sweatpants, an oversized indigo hoodie, and mismatched silly socks, she looked like a sleepy little ghost. Without a word, she walked over and sat beside Kori, pulling the comforter around them both. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Lydia gazing up at the night sky while Kori quietly studied her.

“Can’t sleep?” Kori asked eventually.

“Yeah… you could say that,” Lydia replied, voice calm.

“First time camping?”

Lydia gave a small nod. “It’s not the outdoors... it’s Lana’s sleep talking,” she deadpanned.

Kori blinked, caught off guard. Then she burst out laughing, and Lydia followed suit, her giggle contagious. “Wait until she sleepwalks too. It’s like a treasure hunt trying to find her,” Kori added, trying to stifle her own laugh.

Lydia snorted. “That’s terrifying.”

“It gets better,” Kori continued, warming up. “Suzie melts metal to calm herself down before bed. Literal fire hazard version of counting sheep. We just let her do it now.”

“And Jewels?” Lydia asked, still giggling.

“Oh, Jewels just rolls over people like a steamroller in her sleep. Small but deadly. I’ve had actual bruises.”

Lydia wheezed with laughter, and Kori, watching her lose it like that, couldn’t help but laugh too.

When they finally calmed down, Lydia gently rested her head against Kori’s arm. Kori shifted slightly to make her more comfortable, letting the girl settle on her chest as she wrapped an arm around her. She adjusted the comforter so it covered them better.

“Goodnight, Kori,” Lydia whispered, already halfway to sleep.

Kori watched her for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. “Goodnight, Lyds. Sleep well.” she whispered back.

Kori could feel the warmth of Lydia’s tiny hand holding the edge of her sweater. She could feel Lydia’s breath against her, soft and slow, the gentle rise and fall of her chest against hers. And under the moonlight, Kori noticed every little thing: the delicate freckles on her cheek pressed gently to her chest , the way her long lashes fluttered even in sleep, the peaceful expression that made her look just as ethereal than when she was awake.

Kori had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

And just like that, under the serene moonlight, with the world quiet around them, Kori realized she was absolutely, undeniably, and irreversibly down bad for the small witch. The blonde has no hope of escaping this.

When Lydia showed up again the next night—once again during Kori’s shift—curling beside her with that same easy comfort, Kori welcomed it like a secret she was allowed to keep. Her touch was god-like, her laugh a precious prayer, her eyes were relics, her presence a blessing. And as they sat together in that quiet moment, it felt like the whole world had faded away—just her, and the girl she liked.

By the third and final night, with the trip nearing its end, Lydia didn’t even ask. She and Kori shared a tent, and it just felt right.

Kori had always been the kind of person who could sleep anywhere, anytime, no matter the noise or setting—something her friends teased her about constantly. But now? She had found her new favorite spot.

Right next to the witch.

Chapter Text

Quick question: Is it still rock bottom if the hole keeps getting deeper?

What about being freezing cold, soaking wet, literally naked, and completely stuck?
Fun, right?
Yeah—Kori would have to disagree.

So let’s rewind. Let’s talk about everything that led up to this moment—everything that cracked Kori’s steady composure and brought her here, to the lowest point—physically, mentally, emotionally—of her life.

It started with the three-day camping trip.

Nothing happened.
Like, nothing happened.
The notes they came to take? Still completely blank.
The wildlife expected to roam the area? Nowhere to be found.
Even the mosquitos didn’t bother showing up—solid proof that something was seriously off.

It wasn’t peace. It was void.

So they made the call: they would go deeper.

They ventured into the cave system. Together.

Too chill. Too easy. Too perfect.
It felt more like a vacation than a mission.

They joked, they laughed, they reminisced.
Lydia wouldn’t stop singing every time the silence stretched too long—absolutely a better witch than a singer, but it became her little quirk, and the others had learned to embrace it.
Jewels and Lana made plans for a full spa day when they got back—nails, facials, the works. A group activity, they insisted.
Suzie and Kori bickered every chance they got. Loving, petty, competitive—it was their language. Their bond.

It was light.

It was fun.

They were fine. Happy, even.
But nothing stays good forever.

You only know the light because you’ve seen the dark.
Life’s flowers come with thorns.
And this moment? This was the thorn.

Things took a turn.

Fast.

They were caught off guard.
They should’ve been more alert.
They should’ve been ready.
They should’ve been prepared.
But hindsight doesn’t fix anything—and spilled milk stays spilled.

The world doesn’t pause for regret.
It keeps spinning. Forward. Relentless.

Maybe it was preventable.
Maybe it didn’t have to go this way.
But once blood, sweat and tears were spilled, the "what ifs" don’t matter much.

And it wasn’t like they were irresponsible. Or reckless. Or new to this.
They were good at their jobs.

Facing the unknown is terrifying—and they did it for a living.
They weren’t fearless; they just knew how to move through the fear.
Magic. Weapons. Fists.—whatever it took. That was their normal.
Danger was part of the deal, and in some weird, twisted way, they liked it.
The thrill. The risk. The chaos. Their purpose.

Fear can either kill you or keep you alive—depends how you use it.
It depends on how you play your cards.
You can only fear if you have something to lose.
They all did.
They fought anyway.

They were running on fumes.
Out of breath.
Out of mana.
Out of energy.

But retreat?
Not an option.

Lana missed her target.
Suzie’s strike fell short.
Jewels’ barrier was seconds from collapse.
Kori had pushed too far ahead—out of reach, out of cover.
Lydia hesitated. She usually looked so sure, but not this time. Not now. The next step wasn’t so clear anymore. Nothing was.

They were exhausted.
They were hurt.
They were losing.

And the worst part?
It didn’t look like there was an end in sight.
At least not one they could accept.

Then it happened.
Kori got too close to the edge.

She would never have let that happen under normal circumstances.
She knew better.
She was better.
In her focus—her desperation to end the fight—she lost her footing.
But mistakes don’t wait for the right moment. And this one was fatal.

Behind them, a massive waterfall—loud, violent, bottomless.
She fell.
No scream.
No crash.
Just… nothing.

And that nothing echoed louder than any noise.

The group froze.
Hope cracked.
They lost their direction. Their focus. Their strength.

Suzie was the first to speak. Told them they had to finish the fight first. Then they’d look for Kori.
Jewels insisted she’d be fine. “She’s Kori. She always is.”
Lana said Kori would probably laugh at how serious they all looked, saying something like “too good”.

They all meant well.
But no one believed the words coming out of their mouths.
They only had hope now—and it was hanging by a thread.

Then Lydia spoke.

“Get down.”

Flat voice. No emotion. No hesitation. A serious tone they’d never heard from her before.

They didn’t know what she was about to do.
Didn’t have a better idea.
So they obeyed. They ducked.

A flash.
A hum.
A single, silent strike—none of them even saw what happened.

And just like that… the fight was over.

The enemy was gone.

They’d won.

But at what cost?

Lydia dropped her staff. Dropped everything.
Ran.

To the edge.
To the place Kori had vanished.

No words.
No warning.
No hesitation.

She jumped.

Before anyone could stop her, she was gone.
Swallowed by the roar of water and the yawning unknown.

No scream.
No splash.
Just the crushing silence of uncertainty.

Recklessness. Shock. Despair.

But no relief.

Victory had never felt so much like defeat.

The unknown had never felt this terrifying.

⋆✴︎˚｡˙⟡꒰ঌ ໒꒱⟡˙｡˚✴︎⋆

The water was freezing — no sunlight to make it tolerable, and thankfully no wind to make it even more unbearable. Kori braced herself for the long fall, unsure if she truly wanted to feel the end. Yet it came — crashing harshly against her skin. The water felt like pins perforating her body, forcing a gasp from the sharpness, but all that filled her lungs was water. She was underwater.

She managed to push herself up, swimming while her body begged to sink. At least she hadn’t hit any rocks — it could’ve been worse. Reaching the edge, she finally allowed herself to breathe. Even if it was hard, even if her body wanted to collapse — giving up wasn’t an option. The pain meant she was surviving, and for now, that was enough.

Then came the second crash.

Kori turned her head, scanning the surface for someone to emerge. Seconds dragged on, each one colder and more suffocating. The idea of going back into the freezing water was dreadful — but letting someone drown was not an option. She knew it was one of her group — one of her friends. Would the others jump too? Was that how they planned to save themselves? Had they heard her fall and assumed it was safe? Could they swim like she had?

Then — a head broke the surface, gasping for air, just like she had. Kori didn’t need more than a second to recognize her. She’d stared at that face enough times to know it, even through blurred vision and exhaustion. The one who had followed was the small witch.

It was Lydia.

Kori tried to shout, but she was still breathless. Still, the noise was enough to make Lydia look over. Their eyes met. Lydia began swimming toward her — painfully slow, clearly struggling — but she made it. She reached Kori, coughing up a lungful of water, but finally just sat there beside her, breathing heavily.

Kori watched her, unsure what to do. Until she couldn’t help it anymore — and pulled the smaller girl into an embrace.

Lydia clung to her with all the strength she had left. They didn’t speak at first — just held on to one another, both shivering, drenched to the bone, utterly exhausted. The only light came from the water’s reflection. The only warmth came from each other. The only sound was their heavy breathing and the soft lull of the waterfall's final stretch.

Kori was the first to speak.

“What happened?” It was all she could manage as she pulled back, looking Lydia in the eye.

“The girls are fine. It ended well,” Lydia said in a near-whisper, her voice trembling. Her eyes welled with tears — not that it mattered much, soaked as she was. But Kori noticed. Her heart sank at the sight.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently, wiping tears from Lydia’s face. “Did you get hurt?”

Lydia shook her head and pulled Kori back into the hug, pressing her face into her neck. “I should be asking you that. You fell. I just jumped.”

“I’m okay,” Kori assured her, holding her tighter. “Why did you jump? If the fight was over, you could’ve figured out a way to find me later. Lana has the cave maps.” Her voice wasn’t upset, just curious.

“Kori… I was so scared,” Lydia’s voice cracked, tears now falling freely. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Nothing can truly prepare us for moments like this,” Kori said softly, her heart breaking at Lydia’s cries, the warm tears soaking into her skin. “But it’s over now. Everything will be okay.”

They stayed like that, holding each other like their lives depended on it. Lydia’s quiet sniffles and hiccups continued. Kori patted her back gently, offering silent comfort — a subtle reminder that she was safe now.

But Kori knew they had to move, or they’d die from hypothermia. It would take hours for the others to find them. Trying to find a way out could slow the reunion even more — waiting was the safest choice. They were out of mana, drained, and Jewels had the food supply. No food until the group found them. At least they’d had enough water to last days. Kori still had her fire-starting kit, which was something.

When she asked Lydia if she had any potions on her, the black-haired girl simply shook her head. She didn’t mention that she had dropped everything before jumping. Not that it would’ve mattered — no glass bottles would survive a waterfall.

Convincing Lydia to let go took time. Kori had to wait until she fully calmed down before starting a fire. The humidity made it difficult, but she eventually got it going. It wasn’t much, just a small flame, but it was infinitely better than nothing.

The next step was harder — at least for Kori. They had to strip out of their soaking clothes and let them dry by the fire. The wet fabric was making things worse, chilling them further. Lydia, however, didn’t hesitate. When Kori brought it up, she simply started undressing without hesitation. Kori nearly had a heart attack.

She quickly suggested they sit back to back — to share warmth without fully facing each other. Lydia didn’t argue, though her confusion was obvious. This was about survival, not comfort. There was nothing fun about this at all.

So they sat, bare backs pressed together, letting the fire try its best to thaw them. Still shivering. Still exhausted.

Eventually, Lydia spoke again.

“Kori… can’t we just hug again? We’re both still freezing,” she said softly. Kori could hear her teeth chattering, her voice trembling. Her lips were blue. Her hands shook. Her body was barely holding on.

Kori wasn’t doing much better. Her extremities were numb, her skin ice-cold.

She swallowed her pride — and her feelings — and nodded.

Lydia curled up against her. Kori wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, holding her close, refusing to look down — not wanting to see her like that. Vulnerable. Fragile.

This wasn’t about feelings. This was survival.

And they’d survive — together.

Lydia caught her attention again with a faint movement — a small shift against her chest. Kori looked down at last and truly saw her.

Her eyelids were heavy, barely open. Her breathing had slowed. She looked barely conscious.

“Lydia?” Kori said, softly, concern rising.

Lydia blinked slowly, trying to keep her gaze on Kori. Her hand reached up shakily, fingers brushing against the blonde’s hair before gently patting her head, as if offering comfort she herself barely had the strength to give.

“You’re doing a good job,” she whispered, her voice weak but certain. “Don’t look so worried.”

Kori opened her mouth to speak — to say something, anything — but the words stuck in her throat. Lydia’s hand slid from her hair to her cheek, resting there for a heartbeat before she pulled Kori closer.

And kissed her.

It was slow — warm despite everything, soft but intentional. A kiss that carried more than exhaustion, more than fear. It was gratitude, it was connection. It was survival. Kori froze for a moment, caught entirely off guard — then melted into it, accepting it, returning it.

They stayed like that for a breath that felt like a lifetime — until Lydia gave out completely, her body going slack in Kori’s arms.

Kori caught her, arms tightening instinctively, cradling her close.

“Lydia—”

No response. But she was breathing.

Kori held her tighter, burying her face into the crook of the girl’s neck, tears falling silently, hot against her cold pale skin.

They had survived the fall. But Kori wasn’t sure how much more either of them could take.

.☘︎ ܁˖｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡❋⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

By the time the group reunited, several hours had passed.
Their clothes had mostly dried, so she dressed both of them before the others arrived. Thankfully, no one asked about it—she didn’t feel like talking. The blonde held the small girl the entire time they waited. She dozed off here and there, but mostly it was just her and her thoughts. Lydia still hadn’t woken up. She was breathing, her body felt warmer, but there were no signs of consciousness yet. It was understandable—they were both exhausted. Lydia’s body was doing its best to stay stable, to keep her safe. But the blonde couldn't help worrying.

Then she heard it—faint footsteps echoing, followed by muffled voices. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she recognized the voices. It was her friends. Finally.

Kori turned her head in the direction of the sound, silently hoping it wasn’t just her mind playing tricks on her. Delirium wasn’t off the table at this point.

Suzie appeared first, then Jewels and Lana close behind. Kori let out a deep breath. It was real. This nightmare was finally ending. Suzie stepped closer before speaking.

“Hey diva, how are you holding up?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning Kori from head to toe—lingering a second too long on Lydia—before meeting hers again. The concern was evident, even if she tried not to show it. They’d known each other the longest. There was no hiding between them.

“We passed by the camping grounds before coming. Figured you’d need a few things,” Lana said, not yet fully aware of the situation.

Jewels placed two comforters over them before adding, “We also brought food. You must be starving.”

Kori didn’t respond right away. She nodded slowly, just enough to show she heard them. She took the food and began eating, slowly. The tamales were still warm—they had never tasted better than they did in that moment. Lydia remained cradled in her arms. Suzie offered to take her for a bit, give her a break, but Kori didn’t even acknowledge the suggestion. She wasn’t letting go. Her silence said it all.

The others sat around her, watching her eat. They wanted to speak, but gave her space. It wasn’t like Kori to be silent—moments like this were rare, and they knew better than to push her right now. They’d all been through it. It had been a long day.

Eventually, Suzie broke the silence.

“Did you get any rest? Do you want to wait a little longer before we head up? It’s a bit of a hike. The path’s narrow, and we won’t be able to stop much until we reach the top.”

“I’m okay. We should get going,” Kori replied, her voice too serious, too sharp.

“We brought you a change of warm clothes,” Jewels said quickly, glancing at Lana and Suzie, who both nodded in support. “You should change before we go.”

Kori agreed. She handed Lydia to Jewels so she could help change the smaller girl while Kori changed herself. Once done, she immediately took Lydia back into her arms.

Suzie insisted she carry Lydia for a bit—just to give Kori a break—but Kori refused. She carried her the entire way up in a bridal hold. The others tried to get her to talk about what had happened, but Kori brushed them off. All they learned was that Lydia had been asleep for a long time.

They were worried. Of course they were. Anyone would be in this situation. Everyone was doing the best they could, but tension hung thick in the air. There wasn’t an easy way to deal with this.

Back at the campgrounds, they shared one last meal before preparing to leave.
The sun was rising—warm oranges and yellows weaving through green leaves and pale morning clouds. It had been nearly 24 hours since they’d gone in. It felt good to be outside again.

Grilled cheese and chicken nuggets didn’t exactly qualify as breakfast, but it didn’t matter. They needed food in their stomachs. The journey back was still long.

Lydia’s potion had been prepared too, just in case she woke. She would definitely be hungry when she did. She looked peaceful. Her lips had regained their natural reddish tone, and her fingers weren’t ice-cold anymore. She still seemed a bit pale, but she was naturally light-skinned, so it was hard to tell if it meant anything. Now it was just a matter of time.

“Kori, what are the chances she hit her head when she jumped?” Lana finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“Pretty sure she didn’t,” Kori replied.

“Was she okay when she was awake? How was she acting?” Jewels followed up, her tone more pointed now—like this was an interrogation.

“She was freezing,” Kori said after a long pause. “We didn’t do much talking. But her behavior… was just herself.”

“Did something else happen while you two were stuck down there?” Suzie asked, gently probing.

“Nope,” Kori said, taking a long sip of her coffee. No way she was mentioning the crying. Or the kiss. “Any more questions before we leave?”

That shut them up real quick.

The trip back to the guild was uneventful.
They took a train. Suzie finally convinced Kori to let go of Lydia for a moment. Lydia lay on Suzie and Jewels’ laps, while Kori sat across from them, Lana next to her.

Lana wouldn’t drop it. “Are you sure Lydia didn’t hit her head? Could it be a concussion?”—a word no one expected her to know, let alone spell.

Kori snapped. She was clearly irritated. She’d been the one with Lydia the entire time. She’d made the same fall, seen everything. If Lydia had hit her head, she would know.

The train jolted suddenly. Lydia’s body shifted and nearly slid off the seat, but Suzie caught her just in time. That was enough for Kori—she demanded Lydia back and kicked Lana out of the seat without hesitation.

Suzie moved to the window seat. Jewels, now dozing off, rested on her shoulder in the middle. Lana got comfortable in the aisle seat, sulking quietly.

Kori cradled Lydia on her lap, watching the world blur by through the window. The view moved fast—stations passing by, unfamiliar places flashing for moments—but her attention remained on Lydia. The soft rise and fall of her breath against her neck. Her small frame curled into Kori’s arms. Legs stretched across the seats.

How long would it take for her to wake up?

No one knew. But one thing was certain—Lydia needed to be checked as soon as they arrived. The group was worried, not just for her, but for Kori too. This quiet, guarded version of her wasn’t normal. But clearly, she wasn’t ready to talk—and none of them were going to force it.

It was already night when Lydia finally stirred.
Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, the dim light from a bedside lamp gently illuminating the room around her. The first thing she noticed was the silence. The second—a weight in her chest, a vague ache in her limbs, like she had just woken from something far heavier than sleep.

“Kori?” she called out softly, her voice barely more than a breath.

But it wasn’t Kori who answered.

“Hey,” came a quiet yet cheerful reply from the chair nearby. Jewels stood up, approaching the bed with a small, relieved smile. “You’re finally awake.”

Lydia blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light. She scanned the room—familiar walls, soft bedding, her things, she was back at her quarters in the guild dorm. Her brow furrowed. “What’s… going on?”

“You’ve been out for almost a full day,” Jewels said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“We made it all the way back while you were asleep. The doctor checked you out as soon as we arrived—said you were fine, just… drained.”

Lydia took a slow breath, processing the information. Her limbs still felt weak, but nothing hurt exactly. The last thing she remembered was—

“Kori…” she said again, quieter this time. “Where is she?”

Jewels gave her a soft look. “Doing the reports, last I checked. But up until then, she was in here the whole time. Wouldn’t leave your side. She, uh… kind of carried you all the way back.”

Lydia’s lips parted slightly in surprise. Her chest sank. She looked down at her hands, pale and trembling just a bit.

“Oh,” she whispered, guilt already tightening in her throat.

Jewels tilted her head, reading her easily. “Don’t go beating yourself up. You’re okay. That’s all that matters right now.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Lydia started, then trailed off. She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for. For jumping? For passing out? For scaring the shit out of them?

Jewels stood, brushing her hands on her skirt. “I’m gonna grab you something warm and yummy to eat. You must be starving.”

Lydia didn’t argue. Her stomach did ache, now that she thought about it. She nodded, and Jewels smiled one more time before slipping out the door, quiet as ever.

Alone now, Lydia sat in the silence, surrounded by the faint ticking of a wall clock and the low hum of the building around her. Her eyes lingered on the door.

Kori carried her all the way back. Stayed with her. Looked for her the moment they returned. And now she was doing reports?

Lydia pulled her knees up weakly, arms wrapping around them. She rested her chin there, staring at the soft blanket covering her legs.

It was supposed to be fine. She hadn’t meant for it to go that far. She hadn’t meant to fall apart like that.

She hadn’t meant to need Kori that much.

And now… she needed to talk to the blonde girl.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚₊⊹☼؛༊

Kori’s head was spiraling.
Somehow, she’d managed to pull herself together just enough to finish the report. It definitely wasn’t her best work—but probably still better than what any of the other three girls could’ve done. Not that the bar was particularly high.

Her room had never felt this big. Or this quiet. Or this… empty.

Probably because Lydia had been with her constantly these past few days. The silence now felt unnatural—wrong. The moonlight pouring through the window only made it worse, painting long, pale stripes across the floor like it was mocking her. Mocking her for not being able to relax. For not being able to sleep.

And she was tired. Exhausted, even. Normally, she could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. But not now. Not like this.

Jewels had told her earlier that Lydia had woken up—and asked for her.
That single sentence had shaken something loose in her chest.

Part of her wanted to rush down the hall, throw the door open, and see her for herself. Just see her. Hear her voice. Watch her breathe.

But another part… wasn’t ready.
Not ready to see her.
Not ready to face her.

It didn’t make sense, but it did. Contradictions tangled in her head, in her gut, in her chest. She knew she was being ridiculous, overthinking it—but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t know how much Lydia remembered from when she was still conscious. Didn’t know why Lydia had jumped after her. Didn’t know if the kiss—if that moment—had been real… or just the hypothermia talking.

The idea of having that conversation—of putting herself back into that vulnerable place—it felt like too much. Too soon.

They needed rest. She needed rest.
She needed time to prepare herself for whatever Lydia might say.

Still, knowing Lydia was okay—that she was awake, alert, there—made it easier to breathe. The weight in her lungs was lighter now.

But her body still ached for her. For her warmth. Her presence. The soft rhythm of her breathing curled into her arms. The spark in those piercing blue eyes. That little laugh that had the power to melt all the noise in her head.

She was fine.
And that should have been enough.

So why did Kori still feel like she was falling?

A soft knock pulled Kori out of her thoughts.
Barely audible—just enough to be real.

She froze.

Another gentle tap followed, a quiet pause, then the unmistakable creak of her door easing open.

And there she was.

Lydia.

Framed by the dim hallway light, standing just barely past the threshold. Her hair a little messy, eyes still drowsy, skin pale but alive. Real. Breathing.

Kori’s heart stuttered in her chest.

It was like her mind had conjured her—like her thoughts had summoned the witch to her door, and somehow, impossibly, she’d appeared.

Neither of them spoke. For a second, they just stared at each other. Kori’s breath caught as her eyes swept over the small girl in her black dressing gown, sleeves falling over her hands, bare feet quiet against the wood floor.

She looked fragile.
She looked safe.
She looked like hers.

The doubts, the questions, the carefully built wall of restraint Kori had stacked up around herself—all of it crumbled in an instant.

She stood up.

“Lydia…” she breathed, and that was all she managed before her legs carried her across the room without permission.

And then she was there, arms wrapping around the smaller girl in one sweeping motion, pulling her close, burying her face into the crook of Lydia’s neck like she’d been starved of her.

She didn’t say anything else.
Didn’t need to.

Lydia melted into her without hesitation.
Like it was the only place in the world that made sense.

Kori squeezed her tighter, grounding herself in the feel of her—the steady rhythm of Lydia’s breathing, the faint scent of perfume still lingering in her hair, the warmth she’d ached for endlessly.

She wasn’t falling anymore.

They stood like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, neither one in a rush to move or speak. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, warm, full of things unspoken. Kori kept her arms around Lydia, like letting go might break something between them.

Eventually, Lydia’s voice came, quiet against Kori’s shoulder.

“I couldn't sleep.”

Kori pulled back just enough to look at her—really look. Her eyes were soft, tired, full of something too complicated to name.

“You came to the right place,” Kori said quietly, her voice rough around the edges.

Lydia hesitated. “Jewels said you were doing reports before. I didn’t want to bother you, I just… I needed to see you.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Kori’s lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You could never bother me.”

Lydia’s fingers clenched lightly on the skin around Kori’s waist. “I’m sorry. For everything. For scaring you. For being… a mess.”

Kori shook her head. “Don’t.”

“But—”

“Lydia,” Kori interrupted softly, eyes locking onto hers. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

Lydia blinked, like she didn’t quite know what to do with that kind of certainty.

“I didn’t mean for things to get so… complicated,” she whispered.

Kori nodded slowly. “Neither did I.”

Silence again. Thicker now. Loaded.

But Kori didn’t back away. “Do you remember everything?”

Lydia’s eyes dropped to her lips for a second, then lifted again, blue and steady.

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

Kori’s breath caught—but she didn’t move, didn’t speak, just waited.

The small girl’s voice was barely above a whisper. “And I meant it, Kori.”

Lydia’s voice hung in the air—soft, trembling, honest.

That was all it took.

Kori didn’t speak.
Didn’t hesitate.
She just moved.

Her hands cupped Lydia’s face before the girl could say anything else, and then Kori’s lips were on hers—fast, urgent, like something inside her snapped and all the waiting, all the wondering, all the holding back finally broke loose.

It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t perfect.
It was messy. Hungry. Rushed.

Their noses bumped awkwardly, teeth clashed, breath tangled between them, and for a second they both laughed into the kiss—but neither pulled away. Kori tilted her head and deepened it, her fingers slipping into Lydia’s black hair, holding her close like she was afraid she’d vanish if she let go.

Lydia kissed her back just as fiercely, her hands clutching at Kori’s sides, desperate and shaky and so full of everything she’d been afraid to say. It wasn’t slow or careful—it was full of emotion that had been building for who knows how long.

It felt like borrowed time—like the world outside might interrupt them at any second—but neither of them cared.

Right now, this was all that mattered.

Right now, they finally had each other.

Kori pulled back just enough to look at her—Lydia’s cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide and shining like the stars outside.

And Kori couldn’t help herself.

Without a word, she bent slightly and wrapped her arms around Lydia’s thighs, lifting her up with ease.

“Wha—Kori!” Lydia gasped, a startled laugh escaping her as she clung instinctively to her shoulders. “You can’t just—”

But she didn’t resist.
Not even a little.

Kori carried her across the room and gently set her down on the wide windowsill, the cool night air brushing against their skin. The moon hung full and bright above them, casting silver light across Lydia’s face, illuminating her like a painting brought to life. The stars scattered behind her like an audience of silent witnesses, twinkling with approval.

Kori took a breath—trying to steady herself—but the sight of Lydia under the night sky? It was mesmerizing. Her dark hair catching bits of moonlight, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her legs slightly parted, bare feet dangling.

It was almost too much.

They stared at each other, both of them breathing hard—not from exhaustion, but from the weight of everything they felt, everything that had finally surfaced.

Then Lydia moved.

She leaned in slowly, arms sliding around Kori’s neck, her fingers curling into the soft strands of blonde hair. Her lips brushed against Kori’s with a kind of reverence—gentle, patient, yet filled with everything she didn’t have words for.

This kiss was different.

Softer. Slower. But no less intense.

Their mouths moved together like they had done this before, tongues meeting, melting into one another with a kind of quiet desperation. There was no rush now—just this moment, just them, like time had paused just for the two of them.

Kori’s hands found Lydia’s waist, gripping tight, grounding herself there. She stepped between Lydia’s legs, feeling them close around her, locking her into place.

Lydia tilted her head, deepening the kiss, her breath warm and shaky against Kori’s mouth. She pressed herself closer, chest to chest, heart to heart.

Kori held her like she’d never let her go again.

And in that moonlit window, wrapped in each other, it was easy to believe that the stars had always been rooting for them.

The blonde eventually pulled away from the kiss, her lips now giving attention to the small girl's neck —licking, kissing, sucking— really leaving traces of her love marks as a nice reminder for her to stare at later. Her hands started to wander under the dressing gown, giving her fingers easy access to tenderly care for the witch. Kori wasn’t surprised to find Lydia wasn’t wearing anything underneath once again—just amused enough for a quiet, knowing smirk to tug at her lips.

Things continued to unfold between them—lingering touches, fingers intertwined, shared tender glances, little giggles slipping between soft moans. The few clothes they still wore quietly found their way to the floor. Their kisses grew deeper, breathless, filled with all the words they hadn't had the chance yet to express.

Love filled the room—thick in the air, unspoken but deeply felt.
And above them, the stars bore silent witness to the night that bound them together.
The night the two became one.

It was a night full of unspoken promises.
Of a bright future waiting just ahead.
Of joy.
Of hope.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other, limbs tangled, skin pressed close, breathing shared. Warmth and desire clung to them like a blanket, soft and safe.

But when Kori woke the next morning…
Her bed was cold.
Her arms were empty.
The window was still closed.

And Lydia was gone.

Chapter Text

A cloudy morning loomed over the guild, thick with the kind of gloom that warned of rain—or disaster. Fitting, really, considering the state of things.

Guild meetings weren’t rare; the guild master, Onya, liked to hold them every couple of weeks to go over important updates—upcoming quests, internal news, reminders, administrative updates, sometimes even performance feedback.

But this morning’s headline caught everyone off guard.

Lydia was gone.

According to the brief note left on Onya’s desk—found when she arrived at her office just after sunrise—the witch had left for personal reasons and would be gone for an undetermined amount of time. No fanfare. No warning.

Onya had no idea how much chaos that single note would unleash.

Word spread fast. Lydia might’ve been new to the guild, but she’d already built a reputation: competent, mysterious, powerful, and cool. Everyone knew of her, even if few had gotten close. So, of course, speculation ran wild.

Why did she leave? Was she in trouble? Had something gone wrong after their last mission?

Even her closest friends, her group, had no idea where she’d gone or why.

Though, to be fair, Kori hadn’t been at the meeting.

She didn’t need to be. She’d known Lydia was gone the second she woke up to an empty bed.

She searched everywhere she could think of: Lydia’s room, the kitchen, the book room, the garden, even the storage closets and furniture she thought the small witch might’ve squeezed into on a dare. Desperate places for desperate hopes. Nothing. Lydia was nowhere. Vanished. After that, Kori shut herself in her room and didn’t come out.

Meanwhile, rumors spiraled through the guild like wildfire.

Some swore Lydia had fled after getting caught up in shady business deals. Others claimed she’d run off to marry a secret lover after getting pregnant. A few, more grounded in reality, guessed she was overwhelmed or burned out after the last mission. One rumor claimed that Lydia must be coming back — after all, her things were still in her room. But that theory only made sense to those who’d never stepped foot inside it.

Kori had been in that room. And Kori knew what mattered. She knew what was missing.

The creepy dolls collection Lydia always kept on her upper shelves? Gone. The round glasses she used for potion work? Not on the desk with the rest of her clutter. The black dressing gown she liked to wear during her off-hours — the one Kori had last seen tossed on her bedroom floor the night before — also missing.

Lydia hadn’t just left. She’d packed.

And Kori was not okay.

When Suzie, Jewels, and Lana arrived at the meeting and didn’t see Kori already there, it immediately struck them as off. Kori was always an early bird. Always dependable, present.
When the announcement dropped, none of them even needed to ask her about it. They knew instantly—she already knew.

After the meeting, the three sat in silence, trying to make sense of it all.

They pulled Onya aside privately, hoping she had more details. She didn’t. In fact, she was hoping they could explain it to her.

Lydia was a unique case in the guild. As a full-fledged witch from an active coven, she wasn’t under the same contractual rules as the rest of them. Technically, the coven owned her time, not the guild. The moment they wanted her back, she’d be gone—and there was nothing the guild could do about it.

When Onya explained that, it hit the girls hard.

It was out of their hands. Out of anyone’s hands. Even Lydia’s, it seemed.

The weight of it settled on them like a second storm cloud.

They sat in silence for a while, nursing mugs of lukewarm coffee that no one really wanted. That’s when Crystal walked in, balancing a tray of muffins and looking way too chipper for the mood she stepped into.

“You guys look like you’re having a blast. Did someone die?” she joked, trying to lift the tension.

“No,” Lana said first, flatly. “Just Lydia’s missing.”

Crystal blinked. “Wait—what? So that crazy stuff I heard downstairs is actually real?”

“Probably not,” Suzie replied, grabbing a muffin and handing it to Jewels.

“I hope she’s okay,” Jewels said softly. “I hope Kori is okay too.”

“Wait, where is Kori?” Crystal looked around, half-expecting the tall blonde to be sulking behind a chair. “Shouldn’t she be here for this?”

“She definitely knows,” Lana said, sighing. “She’s probably locked in her room right now, spiraling, thinking Lydia hates her or something.”

“Wait a minute,” Crystal leaned in. “Why would Lydia hate her?”

“What we know is that Kori has a crush on Lydia — not that she’ll ever admit it,” Suzie said.

“One-sided,” Lana added, and Suzie nodded along.

“Plus, Kori’s been weird since we found them in the cavern. And now Lydia’s gone,” Suzie finished.

“I really don’t think it’s like that,” Jewels murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Suzie and Lana gave her strange looks, but Crystal jumped in before they could press.

“Honestly, Lydia never struck me as someone who’d just leave like that. I mean, yeah, she didn’t talk much unless you dragged it out of her, but with you guys?” She shrugged. “She looked genuinely happy. Doesn’t make sense that she’d just leave—even if Kori did something dumb.”

“She does fit with us,” Suzie admitted. “And even if Kori embarrassed herself or something, Lydia’s not the type to run from that.”

“And what could she possibly do that would scare Lydia away?” Lana said. “She’s a witch. You truly believe Kori could spook her?”

That got a small chuckle from everyone.

“So that leaves the last option,” Suzie said, tone heavy now. “The coven called her back.”

They all fell quiet after that. Jewels reached over and placed a hand gently on her friend’s knee, a quiet gesture of comfort. Suzie gave her a soft yet tired smile in return.

“Is that... bad though?” Crystal asked carefully.

“We don’t know,” Suzie replied, then laughed dryly. “That’s kind of the problem. But the fact that she left in the middle of the night with no warning? That’s not a good sign, is it?”

“And how’s Kori holding up?” Crystal asked.

“We tried knocking earlier,” Lana said. “The door was locked. No answer. She’s clearly not handling it well.”

“We should try to cheer her up later,” Jewels said, hopeful.

“Yeah,” Suzie nodded. “We will.”

✮⋆˙⋆✴︎˚｡⋆₊⊹༘⋆

A lot had gone through Jewels Sparkles’ mind over the past few days. Like that moment back at the camp, before everything fell apart. She remembered babbling way too much about Suzie to Lydia, who only seemed half-listening—until she suddenly stopped her and said, matter-of-factly,
“You really like Suzie, don't you?”

Jewels' mouth dropped open. Her cheeks burned bright red. She had no idea how Lydia figured it out, or how she could say it so bluntly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was just the two of them—Lana had gone off to help with the tents Suzie and Kori were putting up, far enough that no one could overhear them.

Jewels pulled herself together, gave a shy little giggle, and tried to brush it off.
"Yeah… I mean, of course I do! We’re good friends, aren’t we?”

Then, nervously, she flipped the question.
"What about you and Kori? You two are good friends too, right?”

Lydia had only said,
“Yeah. I do like Kori.”

Ominous. Yet honest.

If that hadn’t made it clear enough to Jewels, what happened next did. When Kori fell into the waterfall… Lydia didn’t even hesitate. She just jumped in after her.
Jewels remembered how it felt watching that—simple, yet gut-wrenching. She looked at Suzie… then back at the water.

This is what love looks like.

You dive headfirst, even if it’s stupid. You can’t help it.

If it had been Suzie who fell, Jewels was sure she’d go in after her too… or at least think about it and freeze at the edge. Lydia was just braver than her. And Jewels was okay with that realization.

And if all that wasn’t enough? When Lydia woke up afterward, the first name on her lips was Kori’s. If that’s not love, then what is?

Lydia was always sincere. That was something Jewels felt she could never be—not like that, not so openly. She didn’t know exactly what was going on between Lydia and Kori, but she knew one thing for sure: Lydia liked Kori. A lot. She just wasn’t loud about it.

And that brought her here. To Kori’s door. At 11 p.m.

“Kori, just hear me out… pretty please?”
Jewels knocked, then sat by the door. She could hear footsteps getting closer. That was her sign to keep going.

“I’m not gonna act like I know everything, like Suzie… or tell you to drink your feelings away like Lana. I’m just gonna say what I’m feeling, and you can listen—if you want.”

She paused, took a breath, steadying her thoughts now that she knew she had Kori’s attention.

“I truly don’t believe Lydia would leave without a reason. Especially not without finding a way to let you know. I know that… because I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
So instead of staying locked in here, you should be looking for something. Something she might’ve left for you. You just have to believe in her, okay? She’ll be back. There’s no way she wouldn’t.”

Her voice cracked. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she wiped them on her baby pink sleeves.

She stood up, took a deep breath, and added quietly:
“That’s it. Good night, Kori.
Hope we get to see you tomorrow.”

She walked away to her own room.

Most nights, she slept in Suzie’s—her safe haven. But tonight, she couldn’t. Not like this. She couldn’t let Suzie see her like that, and definitely couldn’t explain why she got into that state in the first place. So… her room it was.

And maybe, by tomorrow, things would feel a little more normal.

Kori couldn’t help but keep Jewels’ words in her mind. She whispered a quiet thank you, though she wasn’t sure if Jewels even heard it. She could hear how shaken the girl was on the other side of the door—sniffles growing louder, her voice cracking again and again, with long pauses Kori could only assume were Jewels wiping away tears. Kori had been just about to open the door; it was clear they both needed a hug in that moment. But Jewels had already gone. She’d left so quickly… maybe she needed her own space, too.

The blonde sat there in silence, staring at the door Jewels had just walked away from. A lump formed in her throat, heavy and sharp, like she’d swallowed a stone. She hated how helpless she felt—how everything inside her screamed to reach out, to say something more, to cry into someone else’s arms instead of the stupid pillow she kept clutching. But her body didn’t move. Guilt curled in her chest, ugly and aching. She didn’t deserve that kind of kindness right now. Jewels was crying so hard she could barely speak, and still—she showed up. Meanwhile, Kori couldn’t even bring herself to turn a doorknob. Her heart felt full and hollow all at once, a storm of fear, hope, and regret fighting for space in a place already cracked open.

To anyone who only knew Jewels on the surface, she probably seemed like a cheerful girl with a heart full of love, a little clueless, maybe too optimistic for her own good. Naive, even.
Always trying too hard.

But if you really knew Jewels?
You’d know her joy came from resilience.

She was a good listener. She knew more than she let on—she just didn’t like being serious. She’d do anything to protect the people she loved, even if it hurt her in the end. Her natural sparkle came from choosing to serve others, to do better. Be better.

She was an amazing person. A loving friend.

And Kori knew that if Lydia had left something behind, there were only two places it could be: Lydia’s room, or her own.

She started with Lydia’s.

The small witch’s room had seen its share of noisy visitors these past few days. Most of them just peeked inside to confirm she really wasn’t there, or to check that her stuff was still untouched.

Kori felt weird going through her things. She wouldn’t like it if someone did the same to her. But this was different. She kept telling herself—it was for the greater good. She just had to find something. Some clue about what happened.

Instead, she found… trinkets. So many of them. All different. All very Lydia. But nothing useful. No message. No hint.

She returned to her room and tore it apart, making a gigantic mess in a matter of minutes.

Still, nothing.

She stared around at the clutter—half empty drawers, piles of things she didn’t even remember owning. Maybe it was time to throw some of it out. It was all collecting dust by this point.

The tall girl felt so defeated.

She flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling that had been her only companion the past few days. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying, keeping her busy these times. She didn’t know if she had any more tears left—but the pressure behind them was still there.

Her mind drifted back to Lydia.

Her sweet smiles. Giddy laughs. The sparkle in her eyes. That dark hair that caught every ray of light. Her tiny hands. The way even boring conversations felt exciting. The way hugging her felt like fitting into her rightful place. Kissing her like it was the only way to stay alive. Holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. The shivers from meaningful touches. The way her arched back looked under glim light. Her parted, reddish lips stood out against her pale skin, then blooming with a rosy hue. Her name fell from those lips like warm honey — slow, sweet, and lingering. How her small body clenched on her fingers, her hips riding her face like a throne, her thumb lightly brushing against her clit before going fully at it, her wetness kept drenching it, how much she kept licking her clean over and over again…

There was no denying it—Kori had so many feelings. Too many. But mostly… she just missed her.

She reached over, grabbed the pillow Lydia had last used, and hugged it tightly. She took a deep breath—it still smelled like her. Just faintly. But it was enough to make her heart ache and flutter at the same time.

She cuddled it for a long while, breathing her in.

Then, just as she was about to put it back—she saw something tucked underneath.

A letter.

A freaking letter. For her. From Lydia. In the cutest handwriting.

Her breath caught.

How had she not looked under the fucking pillow?! She felt so stupid.

And so relieved.

Lydia had thought of her. Had left her something—something just for her. It meant her spiraling, her crying, all of it… maybe it wasn’t for nothing after all.

She picked up the letter, held it close, then carefully began to open it, her hands trembling as she tried not to tear the delicate paper.

It felt like it might fall apart in her fingers—but she wasn’t going to let it.

Not this.

Dear Kori,

I hope this letter finds you well—and if not, I get it. I’m sure you’re feeling lost, confused, maybe even hurt by me right now, so I owe you an explanation. First things first, I need to apologize for leaving without saying anything. But, when I saw you lying there with those big brown eyes, I knew if I told you, you would try to stop me. And there’s no part of me that could’ve gone against you. Not when you look like that. So, I had no real choice but to leave.

I’m writing this while you're sleeping peacefully beside me, but already, I miss you. Being away from you will be hard, but it’s necessary. Honestly, I don’t even mind the snoring (I know, I know, but it’s true). You just look so beautiful while you’re sleeping, I’m willing to put up with it.

I’m going back to the coven for a while, so there’s no need to worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can, once it’s safe to return. The truth is, during our last mission, I used something called forbidden magic. It’s unpredictable, dangerous... well, it's forbidden for a good reason. You may not understand all that goes behind it but you saw the aftermath, so you get it. The thing is, when you use magic like that, the coven has protocols. I have to go back and let them treat me properly, just to make sure everything’s okay. So, I’ll be in good hands. There’s no reason for you to worry, I promise.

But this needs to stay between us for now. I don’t want to scare anyone else with this. And I know you probably have a lot of questions—and that you might be upset—and I completely understand. We’ll talk about all of it when I get back, hopefully, you will forgive me for not telling you all this beforehand.

Also, we definitely have a lot to talk about when I get back. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. But while I’m gone, here are some fun facts about me that you might not know: My favorite color is blue, not black, despite what my wardrobe might suggest. I’ve had a sweet tooth since I could chew—food’s kind of a love language for me. I joined the coven when I was 10, so yeah, I’ve been a witch for quite a while now. My 5th birthday party was themed around my favorite singer (best birthday i ever had). My parents decided to keep all my baby teeth, which I guess explains why I’m a little weird.

But most importantly of all, I’m the girl who likes you, Kori King.

Take care of yourself, Kori. I'll see you soon.

Lydia

The blonde sat on her bed, holding the pillow that smelled like Lydia in her lap. Her hand trembled as she wiped away the tears from her face. But this time, those tears weren’t from sadness—they were from something else.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚༄.°♬⋆.˚⊹₊⟡⋆✦

Kori finally left her room—and somehow, she looked like a person again. A slightly toned-down version of herself, sure, but much better than any of her friends had expected.

Of course, they were still worried. The biggest issue hadn’t exactly been resolved yet. But at least now, they could be by her side. And for them, that was enough.

Suzie decided Kori needed a good sparring match to shake off whatever emotional dust was still clinging to her. She claimed it would help Kori get her edge back. Bold of her to assume Kori King had ever lost her edge. She was depressed, not dead.

Moving your body is a kind of language—and for the two of them, it was the perfect way for them to have a conversation.

At first, Suzie held back, easing into the fight like Kori might shatter if she went too hard. That didn’t last long. The blonde wasn’t pulling any punches, wasn’t leaving herself open—her strikes were strong, her movements sharp and certain. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no weight behind them anymore.

It hit Suzie in the middle of a parry: Kori's head was clear. Whatever had haunted her the last few days was gone. She had no idea what could’ve changed overnight—but whatever it was, it worked.

“So you’re all good now, huh?” Suzie asked, panting slightly as she raised both hands in mock surrender—Kori’s weapon was at her neck.

“Well, yes!” Kori laughed, easy and light. “Now fight like you mean it from the beginning. It’s way more fun to win that way.”

“Oh, you bitch!” Suzie shot back, laughing too—and they dove right back into it.

Bickering was their first love language. Sparring was a close second.

Kori had been the one to teach Suzie how to fight when they first joined the guild all those years ago. They were opposites in a lot of ways, but somehow, they just... clicked. The blonde had been Suzie’s first real friend—and she still held that title in Suzie’s eyes, not that the redhead would ever say it out loud. That would do too much for Kori’s ego, and it was already far too inflated.

Kori had always been someone who shut down when something really got to her. Thankfully, it didn’t happen often. But when it did, it hit hard. And Suzie had long figured out that the best way to help was the way Kori would actually let her help—by pretending nothing was wrong and punching her in the ribs until she laughed.

As for how much they loved fighting? Enough that the two of them were banned from formal sparring competitions.

Why?

Well, people started dropping out whenever their names were announced—nobody wanted to be cannon fodder for either of them, much less both. Investors lost money, officials got involved, and that was that.

And if they got to fight each other? Even worse. Neither of them could stand the idea of losing to the other, so their matches would drag on forever. They’d both end up wrecked, often resulting in a draw because neither one would give up.

They went hard on each other, sure—but let someone else try to mess with their friend, and the chaos that followed made their own sparring look like a friendly handshake.

Take Suzie’s first rookie match, for example. She got her ass handed to her by Arrietty, and before Suzie could even get off the floor, Kori was already yelling that she’d be the elf’s next opponent—despite both of them just finishing matches.

Arrietty, feeling bold after an easy win, thought she could use the same tricks on Kori. That didn't work out. The rest, as they say, is history.

So yeah—maybe unconventional. But they were having the time of their lives.

After a string of matches filled with laughter, insults, and very little mercy, the two collapsed onto the floor. Sweaty, bruised, and smiling.

Kori took a long sip from her ridiculously oversized, bejeweled tumbler and looked up at the ceiling, a smirk playing on her lips. She felt it then—the quiet warmth of being surrounded by people who knew her, who cared. She felt lucky. Blessed, even.

But she wasn’t about to say that. Especially not to Suzie. The redhead didn’t need the satisfaction of being right about how good this would be for her. If she gave Suzie even half a compliment, the girl would never shut up about it.

So instead, Kori turned her head with a smirk and said, “You know, if you ever wore a chunky necklace and shoulder pads, your thick-ass neck might actually look balanced for once.”

Suzie rolled her eyes and flipped her off. “I try to be nice to you and this is what I get? You’re so fucking annoying, I swear.”

Kori just sipped from her cup and grinned wider.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡‧˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚‧｡⋆

That evening, Lana decided it was the perfect time for a pajama party, the kind where you forget about everything else for a while. Junk food for dinner, spa treatments, and a nail session, all followed by a sleepover at Kori’s room. Of course, no party would be complete without drinks, so they made sure to have a variety of “poisons” to choose from. Lana was busy in the background with Jewels, prepping everything while Kori was having her moments with the redhead earlier. After the chaos life had been throwing their way, they deserved to be treated like royalty, and Lana wasn’t about to let them forget it.

She really went all out. They started the evening with a small picnic on the patio, the kind where you get a full view of the sunset. The menu? A dream come true: burgers, cheesy bacon fries, chicken nuggets (obviously), onion rings, fried mozzarella sticks, mac and cheese, and, for balance, a salad. It was the perfect way to kick off a fun night. They hadn’t told Kori what was going on—just that dinner wouldn’t be at the hall and to wear something comfy and light. Kori didn’t think much of it and just went along with it. Thank goodness she did, because after stuffing her face with all that food, she’d have exploded if she’d tried to wear something tight like she usually did. The buttons on her jeans were definitely at risk!

Kori came straight out of the shower with her locks still dripping in curly cream, wearing a purple baby tee and flared shorts. Suzie rocked a vintage red dress that suited her perfectly, while Jewels sparkled in a coral tie-front top and skirt set—totally living up to her name. Lana, of course, was all about showing off her legs in a floral-patterned bandana top and mini shorts. They all looked like they were headed to completely different places with totally different styles, but somehow, it worked.

The food was delicious, the gossip was juicy, and the drinks were perfectly iced. Everyone was in high spirits. But the highlight of the night was definitely the spa session. Lana had been looking forward to it the most. There were silly animal face masks, a ridiculous amount of skincare products for every inch of their bodies—oils, creams, exfoliants, rollers—you name it. And, of course, a full-on manicure and pedicure station with every color of nail polish imaginable.

Jewels, naturally, went for sparkly pink nails. Lana kept it chic with bold red, while Suzie was convinced to add little dotted flowers on her nude nails, much to her displeasure (she had wanted to keep them plain, but the group vetoed that for being too basic, of course). Kori’s usual French tips were off the table too, so she went with a deep pink to match her vibe. By the end of it, they were all dolled up and feeling all cunty, ready for bed.

Nobody told Kori they were staying over, and she wasn’t exactly thrilled when she found out. But she didn’t kick them out either. As they all squeezed into her bed, she felt lucky. Even though things had been tough lately, her friends were doing everything they could to lift her spirits. Her bed didn’t feel so lonely with the four of them there. It didn’t feel full without Lydia, though. She thought about how nice it would’ve been to have her there too but figured telling her all about it later would be enough. For now, this was exactly what she needed.

As they all settled into the bed, there were a few moments of quiet, everyone getting comfortable.

“You know,” Suzie said, her voice muffled by the pillow she was hugging, “I think I ate so many chicken nuggets I might need to sleep sitting up.”

“Same,” Kori muttered from behind her messy curls. “I think my stomach’s still in shock.”

“Oh, stop complaining, it was worth it,” Lana chimed in, stretching her legs out. “We really needed a break and just to hangout.”

“Ohh, you look cute in those pajamas, Kori.” Jewels popped her head up to take a good look.

Kori chuckled softly. “Thanks. If I ate one more burger, I would need a new wardrobe.”

“Maybe we should go shopping for you,” Lana teased. “Just eat until nothing fits, then you have to buy new stuff.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not taking style advice from you, Lana,” Kori said with a yawn. “You’re always one outfit away from getting arrested for public indecency.”

“Hey,” Lana huffed, trying to sound offended—but she knew Kori wasn’t wrong. “I look hot, and that’s what matters! Anyway, I’m totally stealing your blanket.”

“Good luck. You’re on the edge of the bed, remember?”

“Pfft. I’ll just pull you in with me. It’s a team-building exercise now.”

A few seconds of drowsy quiet passed before Suzie’s muffled voice rose up, tired and a bit annoyed: “If I could get Jewels off me, I might actually fall asleep.” She shoved at the girl's legs, which were casually draped across her stomach.

Jewels let out a dramatic sigh, pouting. “I’m just trying to keep you warm.”

“I can’t believe we spent that long on our nails,” Kori muttered. “You’re all lucky I didn’t try to do French tips on you.”

“Please,” Jewels scoffed. “You can’t even get your own to match.”

“Who said I wanted matching nails?” Kori mumbled, her voice already thick with sleep. “It’s called being artistic.”

“Artistic,” Lana echoed through a yawn. “You’re just dumb, Kori.”

Kori let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, and nestled deeper into the pillows.

“Night, weirdos,” Suzie mumbled as she adjusted her blanket. “You’re all a mess—but you’re my mess.”

A few giggles followed, and then the room fell quiet, except for the sound of soft breathing. Kori lay there for a moment, eyes closed, feeling warm and full, surrounded by the laughter of the people who cared most. Even with the empty space Lydia had left, she was content. Whenever the witch got back, she’d tell her about the night, but for now, she was grateful to have this moment of peace.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ೀ⋆☀︎.⋆⑅˚₊༘⋆✿

A week had passed, quiet and uneventful. Kori lay in bed, staring at the window. The half-moon hung in the sky, bright enough to gently illuminate her room in a soft, silvery glow. She'd been tossing and turning for hours, trying to coax herself into sleep, but, once again, it refused to come.

She missed the days when sleep came easy—on couches, in chairs, even on the hard floor. It used to be her talent. Lately, though, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. She’d give anything to get that gift back. Fingers crossed it decided to return soon.

But tonight, maybe insomnia was doing her a favor.

The faintest creak echoed from her bedroom door. So quiet it could’ve been missed—except she didn’t. Her eyes locked on it instantly. The door stood still for a moment before slowly opening another inch, making that same soft groan of hinges.

Weird. She never realized how loud that door was. Mental note to fix it later.

Though the room was mostly cloaked in shadow, the moonlight gave just enough for her to see: the handle was pressed down, like someone was holding it from the other side.

She sat up slowly in bed, heart thudding. No one stepped in.

After a breath, she decided to take a chance and call the only name that came natural to her lips. Her voice was soft, tentative.

“Lydia?”

The silence held—for a second too long—until the door opened just a little wider, and in stepped a familiar figure. Kori’s breath caught in her throat.

Lydia.

The small witch slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind her. “Didn’t think you’d still be awake,” she said, almost in a whisper.

Kori rose from the bed and crossed the room slowly, eyes fixed on her like she might vanish at any moment. Was this real? Was her tired brain just dreaming up what she wanted so badly to see?

Lydia let out a tiny laugh and reached up to pat her head gently. “It’s really me, Kori.”

“I just had to make sure you were a cute ghost,” Kori teased, her voice thick with disbelief and relief all at once.

That got a proper laugh from Lydia. Kori pulled her in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Hey, babe.”

“Glad you’re not mad at me,” Lydia murmured, kissing her back with an edge of relief. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Kori tightened her arms around her, resting her chin on top of Lydia’s head. “How was the coven? How are you feeling?” She leaned down to kiss her temple.

“It was nice, they were happy to see me besides the circumstances”

Lydia pulled back slightly, hands coming up to cradle Kori’s face, and pulled her in for a proper kiss. They melted into it instantly—time apart couldn’t have made their rhythm falter. Kori slid her arms around her waist, tugging her closer, deepening the kiss. Lydia let out a soft, pleased sound against her lips. It felt like burning fire and ocean waves all at once—powerful, consuming, but completely natural. Completely them.

When they finally broke apart to breathe, Lydia playfully bit Kori’s lower lip. Kori gasped, surprised, but Lydia smoothed it over with one more kiss, softer this time.

They settled onto Kori’s bed, Lydia insisting that she rest her head on her lap so she could play with her hair. Kori didn’t argue. She curled up, getting comfortable, letting her eyes flutter shut while Lydia’s fingers gently stroked her scalp.

Then Lydia began to talk—softly, like she didn’t want to break the spell.

She told Kori about the coven, how Mistress had scolded her for what she’d done—literally calling her stupid for it—but still understood it had been a last resort. How the other witches teased her endlessly about the love bites left on her neck and shoulders, joking that it was clear she had thoroughly made herself at home while away.

Kori raised an eyebrow at that but smiled, secretly very pleased.

Lydia admitted her old bedroom had felt a little strange, foreign. Not even her dolls brought her enough comfort anymore. (Kori privately wondered how the dolls didn’t give her nightmares.) The witches had taken good care of her, though. Still, she hadn’t officially been cleared to leave—so she’d snuck out under the cover of night, because she had to see her.

“I told them how much fun I’ve been having,” Lydia said, twisting a golden strand of hair around her finger. “And, of course, they cornered me about you. Wanted to know everything. I didn’t even know what to say—we’re still figuring it out.”

“Hope you told them I’m the fun one,” Kori mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

“Oh, I did,” Lydia said with a grin. “Fun and feral.”

She went on to describe the coven—who lived there, what kind of magic they practiced. Two witches had opened a coffee shop together in a nearby town just because their favorite pop idol was obsessed with iced coffee. Another's entire thing revolved around bugs—she once gifted her girlfriend a cricket when they first met, which she wasn’t so amused by. One witch who specialized in curses left a chicken head in someone’s bed because she wouldn’t stop being annoying. It was chaos, but somehow still homey.

Kori listened like a lovesick puppy, eyes wide and soft, drinking in every word. Taking it in how cute the small girl looked all excited while telling her all those stories, getting to know more about her life before joining them. She pulled Lydia down for a few upside-down “Spiderman” kisses, and Lydia smiled against her lips, indulging her every time.

Eventually, Lydia shifted and pulled up her shirt just slightly, revealing a faint scar on her lower back.

“It’s from the forbidden magic,” she explained. “Everyone who uses it gets one. It’ll fade with time.”

“Does it hurt?” Kori asked, instantly concerned.

Lydia shook her head. “You can touch it, if you want.”

Kori reached out, gently running her thumb over the scar’s textured skin. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to it. And then another, and another, leaving a trail of warm, slow kisses up Lydia’s spine—across her shoulder, up her neck—until their lips met again.

This time, Lydia turned herself fully over and climbed on top of her. Kori welcomed her with steady hands on her hips, grounding her in place. Their kiss deepened quickly—heated, intense, and full of every word they hadn’t said in a week. Every ache, every I-missed-you, poured out in the silence between their lips.

Whatever came next didn’t matter. Lydia was here. Kori wasn’t alone.

And that was enough.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚જ⁀➴ ♡⋆˙⟡.☘︎ ݁˖❋❁⚘

The sun was starting to say goodnight to the moon, soft orange rays creeping gently into the room that had, moments ago, belonged to the night. Lydia’s head rested on the pillow—one that once only carried her scent—now warmed by Kori’s embrace. She looked into Kori’s eyes, mesmerized by how beautiful they appeared in the subtle morning light.

Their time together was coming to an end. They both knew it. Neither wanted to speak it aloud.

A low rumble from Lydia’s stomach interrupted the silence, a not-so-gentle reminder that they should probably get up and eat before Lydia had to return. Flushed with embarrassment, Lydia tucked her head into the crook of the blonde’s neck. Kori only smiled, charmed by how endearing it was.

She didn’t want to run into anyone else. No one needed to know she'd spent the night—or that she’d spent it with Kori.

Getting dressed turned out to be more difficult than expected; their hands kept finding each other, laughter soft between kisses. But eventually, they made it out of the room and tiptoed to the kitchen. Thankfully, it was completely empty. No early risers that morning, it seemed.

They weren’t planning on staying long—just enough to grab a bite and return for whatever moments they had left together.

That was the plan.

Lydia began preparing some sandwiches while Kori wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her head on Lydia’s shoulder and placing a soft kiss on her neck. Lydia tried to stay focused, but Kori wasn’t making it easy. Eventually, the small witch gave in, turning her head and capturing Kori’s lips with her own. Kori grinned into the kiss, her hands already slipping under Lydia’s shirt.

Then—footsteps.

Someone was coming. Fast.

“Get down,” Lydia whispered. “Let me handle this.”

Kori hesitated, but obeyed, ducking beneath the counter.

It was Jewels.

She blinked, clearly surprised to find someone already in the kitchen.

“Lydia? You’re back?” she asked, still half-asleep.

“Not quite. Just a quick trip to grab something,” Lydia replied smoothly, even as Kori nestled herself between her legs under the counter. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, good!” Jewels said, filling a glass of water—the likely reason she’d come downstairs at this ungodly hour. “You should go see Kori before you head out. She’s been kinda down since you left.”

“I can do that,” Lydia answered, heart pounding.

At that exact moment, Kori licked the inside of her thigh. The unexpected warmth made Lydia shiver. She prayed Jewels hadn’t noticed.

“You good?” Jewels asked, already halfway to the door.

Lydia quickly nodded.

Jewels lingered for a second more, then said, “You know, Kori’s really missed you. I think she might actually like you. Just... keep that in mind, okay?”

Then just like that, she was gone.

Lydia looked down, a teasing smirk on her face. “So... you like me, huh?”

Kori didn’t answer with words. Instead, she pushed Lydia’s knees forward, toppling her gently. Lydia fell on top of her, landing in her arms. Kori’s back and shoulders were against the kitchen cabinets, but the rest of her body sprawled across the floor. She pulled Lydia close, eyes glinting.

“Maybe I do,” she teased, pulling her in for another kiss.

Lydia, now straddling her, smiled into it.

Kori pulled back just slightly, her voice softer this time. “I do like you, Lydia.”
The sudden sincerity made Lydia blush—hard.

Kori laughed, pulling her in again, lips finding hers with renewed affection.

Eventually, they made their way back upstairs to Kori’s room—to share a quick meal, steal a few final kisses, and say goodbye.

Back in Kori’s room, the sunlight was beginning to warm the edges of the walls, casting long amber streaks across the floor. The bed was a tangle of pillows and blankets that neither of them had bothered fixing. Lydia stood near the door, dressed in her travel clothes again — boots laced, cloak folded over one arm — but she wasn’t leaving just yet.

Kori sat at the edge of the bed, legs slightly apart, elbows resting on her knees. She was still in her usual pajamas, hair messy from sleep, a soft crease between her brows like she was trying not to frown.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. The weight of almost leaving was heavy in the room.

“I should be back before the next moon cycle,” Lydia said finally, voice gentle. “Just a quick trip until I get officially cleared out by the coven. They probably noticed I have left by now.”

Kori nodded. “Well, you're probably right.”

Lydia tried to smile. “But I’m coming back. You know that, right?”

Kori looked up at her, those clear eyes searching her face. “I know. It just sucks.”

Lydia crossed the room slowly, stepping between Kori’s legs and resting her hands on the taller girl’s shoulders.

“It’s not a goodbye,” she said. “It’s just… ‘see you soon.’”

Kori looked up at her and gave a faint smile, trying to be brave. “You sure about coming back?”

Lydia leaned down a bit, brushing her nose against Kori’s. “I just started dating the guild’s prettiest yet most annoying blonde. Of course I’m coming back.”

That earned a loud laugh, and Kori relaxed a little, hands coming up to hold Lydia’s waist.

“I’m glad it’s you,” she said, almost like she wasn’t sure if she meant to say it out loud.

Lydia’s expression softened. She cupped Kori’s cheek for a moment, then brought her hand up to lightly pat the top of her head — fingers brushing through her blonde locks with a tenderness that made Kori close her eyes and lean into it.

And then, just as Lydia turned slightly toward the door, she paused.

“Wait,” she murmured.

Kori looked up again just in time to see Lydia lean down and press a kiss to her lips — slow, warm, and final in that not really final kind of way. A promise wrapped in silence.

Kori kissed her back with just as much quiet urgency, like she didn’t want to let her go but also knew she had to.

When they pulled apart, Lydia rested her forehead against Kori’s one last time.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.

Kori nodded, her voice soft. “I’ll be here.”

Lydia hesitated at the door, fingers resting on the handle. She glanced back one more time, taking in the way Kori looked in the golden light, sitting on the edge of the bed — still her, still here.

And then Lydia stepped back, opened the door, and slipped out.

Kori sat there in the stillness, watching the door long after it had closed. Her fingers lifted instinctively to her lips, the taste of Lydia still lingering.

She smiled — small, but real.

She’d wait.

Chapter Text

The new moon always felt a little boring compared to the other lunar phases. It was supposed to be a time for calmness, reflection (even if it offered none), a symbol of fresh starts, retreat, and introspection. That’s if you believed in any of that, of course.

What actually mattered was how dark Kori’s room felt without moonlight spilling in through her window. She missed the gentleness it brought to the harsh, blank walls—how it softened everything, gave the space a kind of quiet glow, a unique depthness, and made it feel like home.

She heard someone approaching her door but had no interest in talking to anyone right now. Without a word, she turned onto her side, back facing the door, and waited for the inevitable.

“Hey Kori, you up?” Lana’s voice came, a whisper through the slightly open door. She was trying to be quiet, respectful. A faint sliver of light crept in, just enough for her to see the blonde lying still in bed, seemingly in a deep sleep. Lana let out a soft sigh and gently closed the door again, leaving without further comment.

Kori stayed quiet, watching her side of the bed instead—the side that belonged to Lydia, currently fast asleep with her head resting on Kori’s shoulder. Their bodies were closer now, not quite touching after Kori had shifted earlier, but close enough. She couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the girl’s temple before pulling her in gently, adjusting the blanket to cover them both more fully.

Lydia, still in a deep slumber, instinctively shifted closer. One small arm looped around Kori’s waist, her breathing soft and steady. Even in the dark, with no light to make out every detail, Kori let herself be absorbed in how unbelievably cute she looked like this—hair a bit messy, face peaceful, curled up like she belonged there.

It was the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Sure, her arm might be completely numb by morning, but it didn’t matter. Sweet dreams were on their way, and when the sun rose, it would bring with it another day spent by Lydia’s side.

And for Kori, that was more than enough.

The two of them had decided, mutually, to keep their relationship under wraps for now. Low profile. Nothing obvious. That meant carrying on like usual and pretending nothing had changed.

What they failed to realize was that they’d already acted like a couple before—loving, attached, always in each other’s orbit. The only real change now was how aware they were of those things with others around. Every glance held more weight. Every touch was charged. Keeping it on the down low didn’t make it any less real. If anything, it made it feel more theirs—private, protected. The secrecy added a thrill, a strange intimacy, like the whole world was blind to the one thing that mattered most.

But the truth is, Kori... she wasn’t exactly subtle. Her hands were always on Lydia—around her waist, over her shoulder, fingers brushing hers when no one was looking. She stood too close, leaned in too much. And if she couldn’t be near her, her eyes would follow Lydia everywhere like she was gravity itself.

Lydia, on the other hand, was better at playing it cool. On the surface, at least. Calm. Composed. Unreadable. No one could ever really tell what was going on behind those sky blue eyes. But truthfully? She liked it just as much. And she missed it every time the closeness was gone.

The witch was finally back at the guild—officially this time. The group was whole again, and they were thrilled. Lydia didn’t go into detail about what she’d been doing during her time away, and since Kori had already briefed her on how everyone came up with the theory that she’d been summoned by the coven, Lydia decided to roll with that story. It made things easier for everyone.

The girls didn’t press her for more, clearly unsure whether they could ask, or if the black-haired girl would even be able to answer. Truthfully, they were just happy she was back. Lydia still didn’t quite understand why everyone was so afraid of the coven, but since that fear was currently working in her favor, she figured it was a matter to look into later.

The days following her return had been calm. Life at the guild settled back into its usual rhythm. Hormona, in true Hormona fashion, made enough food to feed ten Lydias to welcome her back. As much as Lydia deeply appreciated the delicious spread, she gently let the overenthusiastic chef know that one meal would’ve been more than enough to show her excitement.

Onya made it clear she’d been worried, telling Lydia not to scare her like that again—and that she was missed. Even people she hadn’t really spoken to before came by to greet her and say how nice it was to have her back.

Kori decided the team needed more intense training before taking on another big quest. As much as the girls groaned about it, they knew she was right. Lydia jumped back in as soon as she returned, proving to everyone that she was indeed completely fine.

But just training wasn’t enough for Kori. She decided Lydia should learn how to use a weapon—just in case—as if the girl’s whole thing wasn’t being a powerful witch.

Suzie tried to shut that down at first, arguing that if for any reason Lydia couldn’t use her magic, she was probably too fucked up to handle a weapon. Still, she saw an opportunity: if Lydia was learning from scratch, it might be a good chance to teach Jewels too. You could never be too careful, after all. Every past attempt to train the cheerful girl had been a total disaster, but maybe seeing someone else start from zero would motivate her—and maybe, just maybe, the results would be different this time.

The first weapon Kori handed Lydia was a pair of double-curved knives from her own personal arsenal. Suzie couldn’t believe her eyes—Kori never let anyone touch her stuff.

“You really let Lydia walk all over you, huh?” Suzie smirked as she walked off to deal with Jewels, who could barely operate a bubble wand.

“Pay attention to your own work. You need it more than anyone,” Kori shot back before turning her focus back to Lydia, who was curiously inspecting the weapons in her hands.

“These are Tsubaki and Tsukino,” Kori explained, her voice gentle. “They’re sisters. Both represent beauty—one’s a flower, the other, the moon.”

“Kori’s that weird girl who names all her weapons—and always picks names from a culture she’s obsessed with,” Lana called from across the room, clearly eavesdropping.

“At least I didn’t become an adventurer because I got rejected from modeling,” Kori retorted.

“Shut up, you big baloonga bitch! You could never!” Lana rolled her eyes and returned to her archery.

Kori turned back to Lydia. “Anyway. I thought they might be a good match for you. You’re flexible and good at moving, but you don’t have a ton of strength.” She gave Lydia a quick rundown of how to use them, demonstrating a few moves. Lydia tried her best. She struggled a bit—but it was endearing. Kori let her explore at her own pace and tried not to feel guilty for how cute she found the witch fumbling through it.

“How does it feel? Do you think you could get the hang of it?” Kori asked, amused.

“It’s... not terrible, I think?” Lydia replied, uncertain if she meant it.

“That’s okay. We’ve got a few more to try,” Kori chuckled. “You’re already doing better than Jewels, I can promise you that much.”

The next weapon Kori handed the girl was a three-section nunchaku called Hifumi. It got its name simply because it’s written using the characters for one, two, and three—no deep meaning behind it. Lydia is no martial artist, and that’s probably the kindest way to describe how she handled it.

The third weapon idea came to Kori after watching Lydia try (and fail) to whip around the previous one. She was surprisingly decent at the motion itself, but if the weapon was too long, she’d end up smacking herself with it—something Kori learned firsthand while doing her best not to burst out laughing. That led to Akari, a flail named just because it looked like a star. Yes, Kori definitely had some strange criteria for naming weapons, but Lydia didn’t seem to find it weird.

Oddly enough, Akari seemed to click with her. The movements came more naturally, and while she didn’t master it instantly, she clearly felt more comfortable with it than anything else she’d tried. She even took a few risks, attempting little tricks—not that she nailed them, but the effort was adorable. And just like that, it was decided: the small witch would begin training with her new toy.

Now, if you’re wondering how things were going on the other side of the training hall with Suzie and Jewels—let’s just say expectations were low for a reason. A very good one.

Jewels had no real interest in learning how to fight with a weapon. She didn’t like the idea of getting her hands dirty, and the thought of chipping a nail doing something “gruesome” made her physically recoil. Suzie, for her part, wasn’t helping. She kept choosing weapons that Jewels would never be able to handle—like not even in a hundred lifetimes, even if she really tried. Can you imagine Jewels Sparkles using a gun? A surujin? A chakram? Please.

If anything, Jewels might be able to carry a shield—maybe—just for self-defense. But truthfully, she was a lost cause.

And honestly? She was completely fine with that.

Suzie and Jewels were close—annoyingly close, according to anyone with a pair of functioning eyes. They were always together: quests, training, days off, you name it. Jewels’ effortless charm and Suzie’s goody-two-shoes persona clashed in a way that just worked, like chaos meeting order in glitter and steel.

Neither of them seemed to realize how soft their arguments got when no one else was around, or how easily their banter veered into something dangerously close to flirting.

Jewels claimed to hate training, loudly and often, but somehow never missed a single day when Suzie was the one leading it. And Suzie, for all her eye-rolls and sarcasm, always made a point to keep tabs on her—offering “adjustments” that were really just excuses to stand a little too close.

They were practically glued to each other. And whether they knew it or not, they were already halfway in love—just too stubborn (or oblivious) to see it.

It was only a matter of time before one of them slipped—said too much, lingered too long, looked for a little too hard. Sooner or later, they’d have to face it. Their friends were already well aware, watching the slow-burn play out like a drama with no script and too many commercial breaks. But that? That’s a scene for another chapter. For now, they’ll keep dancing around it—side by side, hearts closer than they realize.

°˖➴⋆☀︎.˙༉‧₊˚.✮✧˚⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

After a week of tough training, the group, specifically Kori and Jewels, agreed the team had earned a reward for all the hard work they put in. They planned a trip to the hot springs in the next town over—a well-deserved break. Nothing sounded better than a long, soothing soak in warm open-air baths. Perfect for unwinding. A change of pace.

The springs were nestled on the side of a small mountain, cooler than the sweltering summer heat they'd been enduring—something that only made the hot waters feel better, or so people claimed. The place was spacious, featuring four open-air baths of varying temperatures. Tradition called for starting in the coolest and gradually moving to the hottest. Even though the springs weren’t far from home, no one could remember the last time they’d actually gone. That made it even more special now, especially since it was Lydia’s first time. Kori was especially excited to be there with her, watching her experience it all for the first time.

They lucked out—the place was nearly empty. Being a weekday and off-season meant the mixed open baths were practically theirs alone. Everyone was in their cute swimsuits. Lana was the first to leap in, flaunting her turquoise string bikini that left little to the imagination. Suzie followed after, but not without scolding the carefree girl for breaking the rules of decency.

“This is a public place, you know,” she said.

“We're alone,” Lana shot back with a smirk. “Maybe you should break loose and live a little.”

Suzie sighed, defeated. “Why do I even bother?”

She wore a modest yellow one-piece with a skirted bottom—Jewels' pick. If it were up to Suzie, she’d probably have shown up in a vintage beige swimsuit that looked like it belonged in a museum. A piece that anyone in their right mind would wonder how it even survived time, only to come to the logical conclusion—it's simply too ugly. Jewels had been very clear: that thing is a crime against fashion.

Jewels, naturally, wore a shimmering gold two-piece that complemented her olive skin beautifully. But her feet never touched the water’s floor—not once. She made herself comfortable on Suzie’s back instead, arms and legs lazily wrapped around her. She hated the feel of grainy rock on her skin—absolutely couldn’t stand it. She wouldn’t have even stepped in if Suzie hadn’t agreed to carry her. The redhead accepted her fate quietly.

Kori, meanwhile, wore a red monokini with elegant cutouts that hugged her curves and showed off her toned muscles. The blonde lingered at the stairs, waiting for the last girl—or more precisely, her girl. Lydia stood at the edge, hesitating. It was amusing, considering she once dove headfirst into a freezing waterfall without flinching. But this? Apparently a different story.

She wore a black scoop-neck bikini with Brazilian-cut bottoms. Simple at first glance, but Kori wasn’t complaining—far from it.

“You okay?” Kori asked, after a while of just watching her.

“Yeah,” Lydia nodded, but didn’t move.

“You sure?” Kori teased gently. “It’s really nice. You’ll like it.”

“I know.”

Still, no movement.

“I can hold you, if that makes it easier,” Kori offered.

That finally got Lydia to step forward, albeit slowly. She stopped at the first stair, still wary. Kori giggled softly.

“Come on, you’ll be safe with me.”

It sounded overly dramatic—like they were wading into a swamp full of crocodiles—but it was exactly the reassurance Lydia needed. She stepped in cautiously. Kori met her halfway, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s waist as they waded in together. Lydia instinctively placed her hands on Kori’s shoulders, both of them looking down at the water to avoid eye contact. They only made it waist-deep—the deepest part of the bath—but the gesture was quietly sweet.

They drifted closer to the others, who were lounging comfortably in the center.

“And why the hell is Kori holding Lydia up?” Lana stopped mid-conversation to exclaim.

“Kori, you really can’t help yourself, can you?” Suzie said with a smirk.

“Be nice, you two! Lydia probably never wanted to get in a pool again after last time!” Jewels stage-whispered before splashing water at both of them.

“It feels exactly like the inside of a witch’s cauldron. Sorry,” Lydia said flatly.

That made them all laugh.

Kori gently pulled her under until they were both shoulder-deep. Lydia adjusted herself in front of her, leaning back so Kori could wrap an arm around her shoulders, then slide it back to her waist once she’d settled.

“If having to see Suzie and Jewels glued together wasn't enough, now I gotta witness this too? Be fucking for real!” Lana groaned.

“Blame Jewels for refusing to touch the floor,” Suzie chuckled.

“It’s pointy and it’s weird!” Jewels defended, holding tighter onto Suzie’s back. The redhead laughed even harder.

“Lana, you want us to recruit someone you can hang onto?” Kori asked, cracking up.

“Nuh-uh. We’re full. Lydia’s the final puzzle piece,” Suzie wheezed.

“You’re all insufferable!” Lana rolled her eyes. “Can we move to the next bath already? I’m cold in this one.”

“Fine by me,” Jewels said, looking at Suzie for confirmation.

“Sure,” Suzie nodded. Then turned to the pair still lingering. “You two tagging along?”

“Nah,” Kori replied with a smile, giving Lydia a little squeeze. “We’ll stay a bit longer.”

Lydia nodded in agreement.

“Don’t take too long, then.” Suzie said as they started moving. Jewels turned back one last time, flashing them a knowing smile and wink before disappearing into the mist with the others.

Just like that, they were alone.

The soft splash of footsteps faded as the others moved on to the next bath, leaving only the sound of gentle ripples and distant wind rustling through the trees. Steam curled around Kori and Lydia like a curtain, wrapping them in their own little pocket of silence.

Kori’s arm was already around Lydia’s waist, having never let go after guiding her into the water. Lydia had settled in front of her, leaning slightly into the blonde’s chest, their bodies half-submerged and shoulders slick with mist. The warmth of the bath melted any remaining tension, though neither of them said anything right away.

Kori’s thumb drew a lazy, slow circle against Lydia’s side, just under the water.

“Alone at last,” she murmured near Lydia’s ear, the words more breath than voice.

Lydia hummed in response. “Took them long enough.”

Kori smiled, letting her head rest lightly against Lydia’s. “Think they suspect anything?”

“Jewels winked at us like we already kissed in front of her,” Lydia replied dryly. “So just her… probably.”

Kori chuckled softly, the sound low and fond. “Well, we haven’t. Not in front of them.”

“No. Just here,” Lydia said, then turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing against Kori’s temple. She looked up at her, quiet and expectant.

Kori didn’t hesitate.

She leaned in and kissed her—slow, sweet, the kind of kiss you give when no one’s watching, and time doesn’t matter. It was warm and full of relief, of tenderness long held in check. Lydia kissed her back, soft at first, then a little deeper, a hand rising to Kori’s jaw, holding her there like she didn’t want her to pull away just yet.

When they parted, it was barely noticeable—a breath apart, every gasp warm and shared.

Kori’s voice floated softly. “You’re really something, you know.”

Lydia tilted her head with a playful arch of her eyebrow. “Good thing? Or bad?”

Kori’s lips curved in a slow smile. She leaned close, her voice a hushed promise. “Dangerously good.”

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still.

Lydia regarded her, eyes unreadable yet glowing with warmth. “You’re dramatic.”

Kori shrugged lightly, enough that her shoulder brushed Lydia’s under the mist. “You like it.”

The tiny twitch at the corner of Lydia’s lips said more than words ever could.

Kori pressed closer, letting her cheek rest against Lydia’s. She nudged the witch’s jaw gently, leaving a soft kiss that tasted of steam and lingering heat. Lydia hummed quietly in contentment, her grin widening.

With a subtle shift, Lydia turned fully toward Kori, arms sliding up to rest on her shoulders, legs threading around her waist. The movement was effortless and intimate, as natural as breathing.

Kori closed the gap, their lips meeting in a lingering, tender kiss that deepened softly, not sloppy but yearning—full of the thrill of secrecy, and safety. She held Lydia steady in the water, fingertips grazing her ribs between gentle thrusts, a rhythm that felt honest and right.

Lydia’s response was playful yet sweet—she traced her tongue lightly along Kori’s earlobe, leaving behind a tender mark, her breath warming the skin.

Kori’s hand wandered further, sliding up Lydia’s side beneath the warm water, thumb brushing her hip in slow, deliberate circles. Lydia shivered in response, sending a ripple through the bath.

Neither spoke. Words felt beside the point.

What remained was the intimacy of touch: Kori’s steady, grounding hold; Lydia’s soft hum against her neck; the taste of steam and each other.

Their breaths mingled. Hearts thumped in sync. Outside, the night was still; inside their little corner of the world, everything felt exactly—and beautifully—right.

Kori’s hands slid up Lydia’s back, fingertips grazing her spine with quiet reverence as the kiss melted into something slower, more playful. They were smiling now, pressed chest to chest, both breathless—but not from exertion. From being this close, this held, this understood.

Lydia leaned in again, stealing another soft kiss—quick, but full of affection—then rested her forehead against Kori’s, their damp skin touching, heat from the water rising between them.

Neither of them moved.

They stood like that for a moment, foreheads pressed, noses brushing in a gentle nuzzle, as if saying just a little longer.

Kori whispered, “Ready to go back to pretending we’re just friends?”

Lydia smirked, eyes still closed. “You’re the one horrible at it.”

A quiet laugh passed between them—shared, secret, sacred.

Then, eventually, Lydia sighed. “We should go. Before they come looking for us.”

Kori nodded, but didn’t pull away immediately. She gave one last feather-light kiss to Lydia’s lips—barely there, like a promise—before loosening her arms and letting her hands slip back into the water. Lydia slid off her lap carefully, the water lapping gently at their shoulders. They exchanged a look—tender, amused, a little reluctant.

Then, wordlessly, Kori extended her hand.

Lydia took it.

Kori kissed the back of it, then the inside of her wrist, slowly tracing a path up her arm: shoulder, neck, jaw, cheek, the corner of her mouth—until finally, their lips met again in a last, unhurried kiss. Lydia giggled against her, flushed and smitten.

No one was watching. Not yet.

“Ready?” Kori asked softly.

Lydia gave her a sideways look, wry but warm. “Lead the way.”

Together, they rose from the shallow bath, water cascading from their skin, steam curling around them. The night air was cooler outside the water, but neither seemed to notice—heat lingered between them in ways the bath never could.

The two slipped into the next bath where the others had gone, steam even thicker there, the water deeper and warmer. The laughter of their friends echoed faintly from across the pool, just barely registering in the haze.

They entered together—just two girls among the friend group again, acting as if nothing had happened.

But beneath the surface, their fingers found each other once more.

And stayed there.

ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ₊˚⊹♡₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎*ੈ✩‧₊˚૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

Kori’s day had dragged on forever. Sometimes being a big shot meant being carted around to endless meetings about guild bureaucracy, a subject that bored her to tears. She wasn’t exactly alone, though—Suzie and Onya were with her. But when they were in “business mode,” they were about as fun as a root canal. As companions, though? Amazing. They could hang, joke, and keep things light.

They liked to tease Kori that the real reason she got dragged into these meetings was because of her “scary dog privileges”—her blonde hair, her threatening status, intense stare, and sheerly bored expression were enough to make most people stay in line. It was hilarious to watch, really.

Back in the early days, when Kori and Suzie had just joined the guild, it was Onya who had shown them the ropes of the adventurer life. They went on a lot of quests together—late nights, lots of drinks, and even more laughter. They were a solid trio. But Onya’s true calling ended up being admin work, and that’s how she eventually became the guild master of their branch. Even though their paths had diverged, they still vibed as well as they did back then.

But honestly, after a long day of drudgery, what was better than going home to relax, you may ask? Easy: getting to spend time with your girlfriend. Obviously. Kori wasted no time. She cleaned up, threw on a crop tank top and booty shorts, and snuck her way to Lydia’s room without anyone seeing her. Tumbler in one hand, the other ready to knock—though Kori didn’t wait for a response before letting herself in.

The small witch was at her worktable, busy with her potions. She shot Kori a quick smile before turning back to her work. Kori paused for a moment to look around. Lydia’s dolls, perched high on shelves, stared back at her. The bed looked like Lydia had made a half-hearted attempt to tidy it, but it gave off that cozy, lived-in vibe. Her table was cluttered with potion-making materials—Kori couldn’t name a single one, but her girl looked damn cute using them.

Then her attention shifted to Lydia herself. Round glasses perched at the tip of her petite nose, her long black hair pulled into a simple braid (a new look, definitely), her usual bangs clipped up. Her blue eyes were fixed on the pipette as drops fell into a glass. But the real surprise? She wasn’t wearing her usual black dressing gown—she was wearing one of Kori’s oversized t-shirts, which looked more like a dress on her. The blonde thought it just fit her perfectly, and she was very aware that she was never getting that shirt back. Clearly, the witch had stolen it—and Kori was absolutely fine with that.

She could’ve just kissed the top of Lydia’s head and waited on the bed until she finished. But temptation screamed louder than common sense in her head.

She started small, hugging the small girl from behind and resting her head on top of hers, pretending to just watch. But slowly, her lips began to wander, pressing soft kisses along the girl’s head. Lydia didn’t even flinch. She was focused.

Next, Kori went for something more ridiculous—she launched into an obnoxious, over-the-top dance routine, staged where Lydia didn’t have to turn to watch it. Tap dancing, jazz hands, pirouettes, pas de bourrée, kicks—the whole thing, she went all out. Lydia shot her a side-eye, stifling a laugh. Just a little. But it was enough to fuel Kori’s ongoing shenanigans .

She followed up with a dramatic dollhouse play, dubbing conversations between dolls in weird accents, with over-the-top backstories and telenovela-worthy plot twists. Jewels would’ve been proud. Still, Lydia kept brewing, but Kori could see the corners of her mouth twitching.

Then Kori sang. Loudly. Off-key. Every love song she knew, and even made up new ones on the spot—which, surprisingly, weren’t half bad. She took a quick break, sitting cross-legged on the bed to obnoxiously sip her toxic waste drink, planning her next move.

Time to bring out the big guns.

She made a pit stop at the kitchen pantry, emerging with a bag full of snacks—specifically, the ones she knew Lydia loved to munch on like a little squirrel between meals. She was prepared for a challenge. The black haired girl didn’t even look at her this time. Oh, it was on.

She opened the first bag—chocolate peanut butter cups. She felt Lydia glance at her but she didn’t ask for one. Kori smirked. Next, she opened a bag of potato chips—the kind with more air than chips. Again, a quick look from Lydia, but nothing more. So Kori went for the ultimate weapon: a box of Hormona’s chocolate chip cookies, drenched in more chocolate than was probably necessary. Lydia did stare at that one. But she still didn’t stop working. Kori could feel her breaking.

She took a step closer, crouching down by Lydia’s side with a devilish grin. That should've been a warning. She could see the serious concentration on the witch’s face, so she did the only thing that made sense—licked her face. From the jawline to her hairline, flat-tongued and slow.

Lydia put her tools down and finally turned to Kori, looking like she was about to be mad but failing miserably.

“You’re so annoying,” Lydia said, trying to feign annoyance, but her smile betrayed her.

“Well, yes! Glad you noticed,” Kori grinned.

“You’re really not gonna let me work, are you?” Lydia asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer.

“Nope,” Kori said, far too pleased with herself.

Lydia sighed and rolled her eyes—but her small smile was impossible to hide. She opened her arms and Kori gladly moved in, wrapping herself around the witch and resting her forehead on her shoulder. Lydia giggled softly and stroked her blonde hair, before placing a sweet kiss on her head. Kori drew back just enough to catch her gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips, before leaning in to kiss her—slow and full of the longing she'd carried all day.

“How was your day, babe?” Kori asked, finally pulling back to look at her.

“It was good,” Lydia replied, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Jewels dressed me up like an old porcelain doll today.”

Kori raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys were supposed to be training today?”

“We did,” Lydia clarified with a giggle. “But afterward, we decided to have some fun.”

“Wish I’d seen it,” Kori said, pulling her in for a quick peck. “Bet it was more fun than those meetings.”

“Was it that bad?” Lydia asked, genuinely curious.

“Fuck yeah. I’d rather see my girl than a room full of randos,” she said dramatically, making Lydia laugh.

“You’re not in a time crunch, right?” Kori asked, only just now feeling a little guilty about the potions.

“Oh no, I finished a bit ago actually,” Lydia admitted, laughing. “I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

Kori stared, mouth agape, before bursting into laughter herself. Without a second thought, she scooped Lydia up, making her gasp and giggle in surprise. Kori tossed her onto the bed with a playful shove and pounced on top of her, kissing her all over again.

Then, with a mischievous glint back in her eye, Kori suddenly pulled back just enough to whisper, “You know what happens to smug little witches who mess with me?”
Before Lydia could come up with a snarky comeback, Kori's fingers found her sides—and the tickle attack began.

Lydia shrieked, laughing uncontrollably as she squirmed beneath her. “K-Kori! No—stop! That’s not fair!”

Kori grinned like a gremlin, relentless. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you done ignoring me now?”

“Y-yes! I surrender! Please!” Lydia wheezed through laughter, trying and failing to wriggle away.

“Too late,” Kori said, moving to her stomach now. “You brought this on yourself, babe.”

“You’re the worst!” Lydia managed between gasps, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks.

“And yet,” Kori said, finally easing up, “you like me.”

Lydia panted, grinning up at her, eyes sparkling. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Lucky me,” Kori teased, leaning down again for another kiss—this one gentler, sweet and lingering.

The golden light of the setting sun spilled lazily through the window, casting long shadows across the cluttered room. Dust motes danced in the fading glow, and outside, the world slipped quietly toward another moonless night. But inside, everything was warm. No potions, no guild politics—just tangled limbs, soft laughter, and the quiet, steady rhythm of two people falling in love, piece by piece, as the last light kissed their skin and promised they'd be safe in the dark.

Chapter Text

When Lydia was called in for a meeting with the guild master, she didn’t think much of it. Which, in hindsight, was kind of stupid—most people would be at least a little terrified. Not even her anxiety kicked in to start plotting worst-case scenarios, like being kicked out or the guild deciding that keeping a witch around was more trouble than it was worth. Whatever she's been taking lately, has been working overtime.

What she didn't expect was that the topic of discussion would be... noise complaints.

Apparently, there had been a handful of grievances about the noise coming from Lydia’s room. Specifically, late-night witchcraft sessions. It seemed her neighbors weren’t fond of her working by moonlight. Little did they know her brand of witchcraft had a first, middle, and last name—blonde hair, a loud laugh, and dangerously charming ways.

Lydia kept a straight face through the whole conversation, though “holding it together” was an understatement—she was fighting off laughter and mild humiliation. Onya, the guild master, first hinted that maybe Lydia could do her work during the day, when most people were out and about. Then she offered a more tempting solution: the unused shed on the edge of the grounds. It could be her private workspace—no complaints, no curfews—and it was conveniently close to her little herb garden.

Lydia loved the idea way too much.

So much so, in fact, that she decided not just to work in the shed but to move in entirely. Onya was very clear that this wasn’t necessary, that Lydia could keep her dorm quarters and just use the shed for crafting. But Lydia didn’t see the point in constantly going back and forth. She’d already made up her mind—and there was no changing it.

Eventually, Onya gave up and told her she was welcome to come back to the dorms any time.

And just like that, Lydia found herself moving again. It had only been a couple of months since she’d arrived at the guild. The sunny season was winding down, though the heat hadn’t relented. Soon, she’d be harvesting the herbs she planted when she first got here. Time really flew. Just the other day, she was a witch looking for something beyond the borders of her coven—and now she was an adventurer, going on wild quests she never could’ve dreamed up on her own. She had friends. A lover. Life was good. She had no complaints.

Her friends helped with the move, even if they didn’t totally understand why she was relocating to the shed. Still, everything was moved in a day, neatly organized into her new space. Making the place livable took a bit longer—cleaning, patching things up, adding her touch. Her worktable now sat beneath a freshly carved window, beside shelves full of tools and ingredients stacked floor to ceiling. On the other side of the room was a dusty old sofa she’d salvaged, now transformed into a cozy reading nook with mismatched pillows, a knit blanket, and a vintage floor lamp. A rug tied it all together—the kind that looked like it could fly across cities if you asked nicely enough.

Add a wardrobe, a bed, and—because she finally had the space—a hammock, and it was starting to feel like home. Lydia would miss the cramped little dorm room... or maybe that was just an excuse to fill every inch of these wooden walls with her. Either way, it was coming together.

Soon enough, her first visitor knocked—then opened the door before she could even respond.

“Hey, babe,” Kori said warmly, strolling in like she owned the place.

“I wonder why you even bother knocking anymore,” Lydia chuckled.

“If you want to keep me out, try locking the door,” Kori teased.

“If I do that, you’ll just come in through the window. I fear.”

“That your way of saying I shouldn’t come see my girl?” Kori grinned, placing a kiss on Lydia’s cheek. “You’d miss me too much if I stayed away.” Another kiss on the other cheek.

“I would indeed,” Lydia sighed dramatically, making Kori smirk before pulling her in for a proper welcome kiss. The smaller girl melted into it, as always, loving the affection.

“How are you liking the new place?” Kori asked, giving the room a once-over.

“I have you to thank for it,” Lydia replied with a playful smirk. “Apparently, my ‘brewing’ was the cause of loud nighttime noises. Unbelievable, right?”

Kori burst out laughing, leaning back and pretending to wipe away a tear. “Oh, that’s too good. Can’t wait to see what sounds I can get out of you now that we don’t have neighbors complaining. Grand opening and all.”

She tugged at the waistband of Lydia’s shorts before letting her hands rest comfortably on her ass.

“You’re way too full of yourself,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes, but not stopping her. Kori started gently kissing the crook of her neck, and Lydia gently cupped her face, pulling her in for another kiss. Their mouths met again—tongues warm and familiar—while Lydia’s fingers slid up into Kori’s blonde locks, stroking the nape of her neck and giving her goosebumps.

“You know we’ve got a long day tomorrow,” Lydia whispered into her ear, teasingly nibbling at the lobe. “If you keep this up, I don’t think we’ll be getting much sleep.”

“That’s a tomorrow problem,” Kori giggled, her voice lower now, eyes locked onto Lydia’s glacial blue ones, smoldering with heat. “Right now, we’re going to break in your new room properly, babe.”

She whispered the last part against Lydia’s lips before kissing her again—deeper this time. Lydia hummed in agreement as Kori licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she eagerly complied. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they found their way to the bed and spent the night in blissful, breathless intimacy.

And while Lydia had a point—they were supposed to rest—not much sleeping happened that delightful starry night.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.☾☀︎☪︎⋆°•☁︎

Dragging herself out of bed to the guild hall at 8am was a nightmare. Lydia had on a black cropped tank top and flowy maxi skirt with intricate stitching along the hem. Sunglasses perched on her head, ready to fall over her face at the first sign of sunlight. Her dark circles may have been hidden under concealer, but there was no masking the drawn-out yawns, her sluggish demeanor, or the fact that she was clinging to the biggest mug she could find—filled to the brim with black coffee.

Three out of four teammates were already there but they didn't seem to be in a rush by any means. They sat chatting with two girls she wasn't well acquainted with yet. As she approached, Jewels was the first to spot her, cheerfully waving her over

Jewels was dressed exactly how one would expect: a light-washed denim skirt with a deity heart chain belt, a pink cropped top with mid-length sleeves, and a bow perched atop her high ponytail. Very cutesy. Very her. Next to her stood Suzie, who clearly had been dressed by Jewels again—no questions about it. Her ginger curls were perfectly defined and bouncy, her white skorts paired with a yellow blouse layered over a white undershirt showing over at the bust.

A loud, familiar laugh pulled Lydia’s gaze to the far side of the table. There sat the blonde girl who’d smothered her with morning kisses before sneaking back to her own room at sunrise. Kori wore a light blue baby tee trimmed with pink heart embroidery, paired with high-waisted shorts. The blonde locks she loved to run her fingers through were swept into a voluminous side part—soft, smooth, and effortlessly glamorous. Her usual Venus necklace hung from her neck, now joined by the point-of-light pendant Lydia had given her when they started dating (after she came back from the coven)—Kori’s favorite duo these days. Lydia smiled without meaning to; she couldn’t help it every time she saw her wearing it. Kori caught her staring, smirked, and threw her a wink before returning to her conversation with an overly expressive girl Lydia didn’t recognize.

“Rough night in the shed, Lyds?” Suzie chuckled, clearly referencing her current zombie state.

“No, it was fine,” Lydia said through a yawn. “I just wish I wasn’t up this early.”

The girls giggled, which seemed to catch the attention of Kori’s loud companion, who turned toward Lydia with far too much energy for this hour.

“Is that the infamous little witch I’ve been hearing about?” she asked, sounding equal parts intrigued and delighted.

“The one and only,” Jewels confirmed.

“I don’t think we’ve had the chance to talk yet—I’ve been looking forward to it,” the girl said, turning fully toward Lydia. Lydia tilted her head, unsure why this stranger seemed so eager. “My name is Lexi Love. You can just call me Lexi!” She offered her hand, long fingers adorned with bright rings and clawed nails.

“Lydia B. Kollins. Nice to meet you,” Lydia replied, giving a polite handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ve been dying to read your cards—I’d love to do it right now, actually,” Lexi said eagerly.

Lydia blinked, thrown off by the abrupt offer, and glanced at Kori for clarification.

“Queen of Cards over here,” Kori explained. “She reads fortunes. Says it keeps her gossip sharp and her skin young.”

“Oh Kori, you flatter me!” Lexi laughed, smacking Kori’s arm before resting her hand on her shoulder. “Keep that up and I’ll start expecting dinner dates.”

“In your dreams, girl,” Kori chuckled.

Lydia wasn’t exactly surprised—her girlfriend was naturally charming and beautiful—but this was the first time someone had flirted with her so openly in front of others. She didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“So, Lydia, how about that reading?” Lexi asked, still smiling in her flirty demeanor.

“Maybe another time, thanks” she said, taking a big sip of her coffee instead. More as a crunch than anything, right now she feels too awake.

“No problem, then. Just be sure to find me when you’re ready. I’ve never read a witch’s cards before—I’m excited.” Lexi said. With her reasons revealed, the witch finds it is somewhat relieving to know.

Before Lydia could reply, another girl—platinum blonde, smug expression, and a cutting southern accent—spoke up; once just meticulously filling her nails, her attention now focused directly on Lydia.

“So you don't like when others do witchcraft, huh?” She said, scrutinizing her from head to toe, judging her fiercely and not being discreet about it. “You look like the type to curse a girl in her sleep if you don’t get along. Maybe I should be nicer, then.”

“I don’t need to wait for someone to fall asleep for that,” Lydia giggled at the audacity.

“Oh, so she bites back,” this unknown blonde says, looking more interested by the minute.

“Sammie, can you please just say hello like a normal person?” Jewels asked sweetly, like scolding an unruly pet that didn't know how to interact with strangers.

“This is Sam Star,” Lexi explained with a dramatic eye roll but smile still there. “She’s a bitch with no filter but has a heart buried in there... somewhere.” she says gesticulating to the girl on her side.

“Star Deity, thank you,” Sam corrected. “In the flesh. I don’t need introductions—I’m the prettiest girl in the room. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” she said, flipping her platinum blonde hair back for extra impact.

Lydia blinked, her head slightly tilted to the side. “Can’t say I have.”

“Miss Majestic Mage of the Year, three years running? Miss Tickle Dreams of last year?” she pressed, but Lydia just shook her head.

“Where did you people find this savage lady?” Sam groaned, addressing the whole group.

“You’re literally the only one who cares about that stuff,” Suzie chimed in. “There’s no denying it, diva.”

The table burst into laughter, Sam looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Lexi, unfazed, turned back to Kori. “Can I read your cards, Miss King? I’m quite in the mood for it right now.”

She dragged a sharp, glittering nail down Kori’s arm. Kori shivered a little—though it had more to do with the cold glare burning into her from a certain witch across the table.

“Sure, why not? It’s been a while,” Kori said, completely oblivious.

“Perfect! A great way to show Lydia how it works,” Lexi said, already shuffling her deck. Her technique was elegant, whimsical—impossible to look away from. She asked Kori to stop her when ready, picked three cards, and laid them on the table.

“The Fool. Ace of Cups. The Moon,” Lexi announced dramatically. “Oh my gods, Kori King, you’re in love?!”

Everyone leaned in. Kori froze.

She takes a moment to straighten up, go back to the mystical, more serious, somewhat seductive demeanor she had previously, now ready to explain what it all meant. “Okay, so The Fool sounds bad but it really isn't. It signifies new beginnings, adventure, and a fresh perspective. It's about trusting your instincts, a potential for strong secure bonds, it shows genuine enthusiasm for embracing connections. Which by itself isn't quite enough to conclude you're in love, but with the Ace of Cups coming next? There is no way of hiding! This card suggests that love, happiness and emotional fulfillment are in your reach! It's all about openness and vulnerability, potential for growth, wholesome and romantic vibes only.” Lexi says over gesticulating all of it, looking really into what she's saying. “The Moon is the closing piece here. It’s all about complexity, hidden feelings, fears and navigating emotions. Not negative, just... layered. What an exciting new chapter of your life.”

“Okay” Kori slowly said, not even sure what else she could say after being so exposed like that. Her usual whiplash sharp tongue that was ready for a witty comeback came out blank this time. Kori never felt so thankful for her dark complexion, because her blush was burning all over her face, she wasn't even able to keep it cool. But it seems exposing the blonde wasn't enough, Lexi was ready for her next victim.

“Suzie Toot, may I read yours next?”

“Sure, diva,” Suzie said, taking Kori’s seat.

“You better gimme something this time!” Lexi says playing with the cards. “If you pull that same stunt again, I swear—”

You may be wondering: why such a harsh reaction from someone that seemed at least a bit emotionally stable up until now? Here’s the short version: Suzanne Toot was Lexi’s living and breathing nightmare, haunting her every time their paths crossed. Suzie was somehow unaware of that fact, mostly because she's simply unbothered, which makes Lexi even more pissed off.

Extended version? Suzie is always somewhat behind every little inconvenience of Lexi Love's life or so she has convinced herself of that, for that she should not be forgiven or forgotten. Even though the brunette got into the guild before the redhead, Suzie got more attention than her, on top of getting her alias before her too, it drove her crazy. Lexi was really close to Onya even back then, yet the short girl would go on quests with Suzie instead of her. So what if Kori was there too, working alongside her from the beginning, getting the same recognition or more even? That obviously didn't matter! It was Suzie's problem and hers alone! Honestly the thought never even crossed her mind. But what she not so secretly hated the most about ginger curls? That whenever she would read her cards, she would always, for the past multiple years, be tricking her and pulling the same cards over and over again! And Lexi had no idea how she could manage to do it! Always the same cards, the same order, the same reading. It was ridiculous, it was humiliating. She was made the fool every time, and Suzie never admitted to doing it on purpose, much less apologized. So yeah, that's the basics. It was one of those canonical events that you got to experience from being truly part of the guild.

Was it truly such a big deal? Maybe not, but everyone had come to expect chaos from it. And so, Lexi did the same schick as earlier with the blonde, telling her to pause whenever she felt ready to pick a card, and the redhead did it three times. Lexi took a deep breath, something between trying to get in the right headspace for the reading or to throw fists and flips tables, who knows.

Well the first card was flipped and you could feel the room’s atmosphere getting denser, even hard to breathe. The Eight of Swords. A standard tarot deck contains 78 cards, yet somehow, Suzie always managed to draw this one first. You could see the brunette's veins of her face starting to pulsing, her face getting redder by the second, but props to her, she kept going, clearly determined to see this to its end. Things took a sharp turn as Lexi revealed the second card though, The Hanged Man. It seems the curse was finally broken, after five or six years, finally a different card, a different answer, some change into the redhead's life. Lexi let out a big giggle after showing the final card, The Tower, like she finally won a battle, like the graces of the gods finally looked her way, not that anyone understood what was going on in her head, she just looked a bit maniac.

“Oh Suzie,” she loudly whispered, a twisted smile creeping over her face. The redhead just swallows hard, not sure if she should stay or run. “I don't hate what I'm seeing, it seems you finally let me read you this time, I'm very pleased” she says in a low tone, yet it can see how much she means it.

“...Is that good?” Jewels interjects from behind her, as Suzie herself is frozen in place at the moment.

“Hell yeah!” Lexi beamed. “I don't feel like shoving this entire deck down her throat for once—I want to hug her!” She expressed.

“So what does it mean?” Suzie asked, still looking spooked.

“Oh yeah, I should definitely explain that!” Lexi giggled. “So the first draw was The Eight of Swords, which is a card you're way too familiar with, I'm sure! It signifies feeling trapped, restricted, overwhelmed by negative thoughts and self imposed limitations, a victim to its own mind, which is crazy because I feel trapped by Suzie's reading every time but she looks just fine. The following one we have The Hanged Man, which sounds horrible but is much better than her usual shenanigans. It suggests ultimate surrender, sacrifice, and releasing any attachment to the ego, it encourages a shift in perspective, letting go of control to find a new horizon. Which is made even better by the final pull, The Tower. This one signifies sudden, unexpected change and upheaval, representing a breakdown of old situations, beliefs, that will lead to the necessary growth and process. A mess before the growth. Beautiful chaos. I love it.” Lexi finishes up.

“Does that mean Suzie will finally admit I'm better than her?” Kori teased, seeming to have finally recovered from her own reading.

“I could never lie to you like that, bitch” Suzie chuckled

“Fuck you, Raggedy Ann!” Kori shots back, laughing just as hard as the redhead who is giving her the middle finger.

“Hey Lydia, if you're ready to go after this lovely showing of my capabilities, I'm more than happy to give it to you” Lexi turned to her again.

“I’ll pass, thanks” Lydia replied too quickly.

“What about me?” Sam jumped in. “Don’t I get a reading?”

“Your goal is all about winning pageants and hooking up with hot people, I don't need the cards to tell me that, you already say it plenty with your loudmouth.” Lexi deadpanned.

Sam's jaw dropped for a second, then shoved Lexi’s arm as both burst out laughing.

“They’re fun, right?” Jewels whispered to Lydia.

“Batshit crazy, you mean? Sure!” Lydia bantered, both of them cracking up.

Just then, the last member of their party strolled in—fashionably late.

“Looks like I made it just in time,” Lana grinned, with Crystal right behind her.

“Everyone’s so lively this early. What happened here?”

“We’ve been awake, girl!” Jewels giggled

“Lana, is the bus still running?” Kori asked, barely holding in her laughter.

“You’ve definitely missed it by now,” Suzie added.

“Fuck you, nasty hoes!” Lana laughed. “Are we heading out or staying for lunch?”

“Like you have any right to say something, you are literally the one who they were waiting, dummy” Crystal pointed out, Lana rolls her eyes in response.

“Wake it up, kingdom!” Kori announced, standing up and shoving Suzie from her chair. “Time to roll out.”

“Here comes the chaos, I fret,” Suzie muttered, shoving Kori back once she's on her feet.

And with this, the group went to embark on their new mission.

ʚɞ✧˖°..☘︎ ݁˖✮⋆˙۶ৎ✴⚘.

Lydia slept the entire ride there, as expected. She was curled up comfortably against Kori’s shoulder, enough so that when they arrived and she woke up to find she’d drooled a sizable puddle onto the blonde’s shirt, her embarrassment nearly swallowed her whole.

“You should’ve woken me up before it got this bad,” she grumbled, cheeks pink with shame.

Kori just laughed, brushing it off. “Why? You looked cute and cozy. I wasn’t gonna ruin that.”

Lovely start, as you can imagine.

But it could’ve been worse. Lana realized she got her period midway through the bus ride. For a solid twenty minutes she debated whether to stand up at all or simply dissolve into the seat and cease to exist. Spoiler: it wasn’t a false alarm. Thankfully, the crisis was avoided with a pit stop at a roadside bathroom. Dignity preserved—barely.

Not that Suzie and Jewels had it any better. Jewels, as usual, got a touch of motion sickness. And Suzie? She spent the ride looking like she was trying to mentally throttle every bump on the road. But they made it. And that’s what mattered.

When they arrived, it was clear the villagers had been waiting.

Lydia barely had time to take in the central square before the others were swept away like local celebrities. Kori was immediately swarmed by the kids—older ones eager to show off their strength, challenge her to arm-wrestling matches, or demand height secrets; younger ones just wanted to be lifted high into the air, or to touch her golden locks. She did her best to indulge them all, and Lydia, watching from a distance, found herself smiling more than she meant to. It was all too endearing to her.

Suzie, surprise surprise, was pulled away by the elderly. The generation she truly belonged and gravitated to, and all shows the feeling is mutual. Some just wanted conversation, others requested help with minor errands or physical tasks—nothing too complicated for her to handle solo.

Lana and Jewels were claimed by the teens and young adults of the village. Some asked for beauty tips. Others were far more curious about love lives. Whether those questions were about getting a crush or getting with one of the girls was left conveniently vague.

Lydia didn’t quite know where she fit in.

She followed Suzie at first—it seemed the safest choice. Her company was definitely appreciated. The redhead gave her a sly grin and whispered, “I’m absolutely using this to tease Kori later.”

She was right. The witch picking Suzie over Kori was the perfect teasing material.

But then one of the elders—an especially withered man, skin like parchment and what little hair remained a disheveled white halo—gave Lydia a long, hard look. Up and down. Eyes squinting. She’d been stared at like that earlier that day too, in a different context. The second time didn’t make it feel any better. Lydia kept her composure, deciding to bite the bullet and get over with it sooner than later.

“Can I help you with something?” She politely asked, giving a small smile.

“Are you a tainted child?” he asked bluntly, managing to catch her off-guard. Suzie turns back, unable to hide her horrified expression stamped on her face.
Lydia’s breath hitched. A pause stretched between them like string pulled tight.

“You could say that,” she answered coolly.

“What are you?” The man asks, taking a step closer, trying to look big and brave.

“I’m a witch,” Lydia said. “And an adventurer. I bring no calamity, if that’s what you’re worried about.” her tone was serious, yet still polite towards the sudden animosity.

He gave a stiff nod and turned away. “Show it, then,” he muttered, wandering off, apparently satisfied for now.

Suzie rushed to her side. “What the hell was that? That’s never happened before—Lydia, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lydia said softly, offering a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.” She gave Suzie’s shoulder a gentle reassuring squeeze. “Let’s just keep going.”

But she couldn’t ignore the shift in the air—the quiet glances, the way some of the elders, once all warmth toward Suzie, now looked at Lydia with subtle distrust. It wasn’t as obvious as the old man, but it was there.

She decided it was time to excuse herself, since the redhead seemed to have everything under control alone. Suzie tried to stop her, offered to talk to them. But Lydia insisted—it wasn’t necessary. She’d find another way to be useful elsewhere.

She headed back to the square. Lana and Jewels were now surrounded by the younger kids, and Kori was nowhere in sight. Lydia didn’t think much of it and decided to join them.

“Lydia, you’re here,” Jewels said, a little surprised but not unwelcome, as she kept braiding a little girl’s long hair.

Lana was off to the side helping with jump rope, using her thread magic to keep the rhythm perfect. Lydia took a seat nearby.

“Looks like you two figured out how to blend in with the kids,” Lydia remarked.

“Yes! A bunch of new munhecas to play with,” Jewels giggled.

One of the girls waiting her turn to be braided perked up.

“Hi! You’re new, right?” she asked. Lydia crouched down to meet her eye to eye and nodded. “Can you use magic too?” she said enthusiastically.

“I sure can. Want to see something?”

The girl nodded excitedly, and soon a whole circle of kids had gathered. Lydia does the first thing that comes to mind, a small scaled version of the trick that earned her alias. The kids were mesmerized, asking for repeats like it was the best trick they’d ever seen. They were quite entertained, giving a break for Lana and more time for Jewels to braid in peace.

“You’re a fairy, miss!?” one of them gasped.

“Not exactly. I’m a witch,” she corrected gently.

“Ahhh! Fairy witch!” another declared, and that was the end of that.

“You must be super powerful!” one added.

Lydia opened her mouth to clarify, but... gave up. Their imaginations were winning, and frankly, it felt good to be welcomed—no suspicion in their eyes, only wonder.

Lana and Jewels chimed in with exaggerated stories of Lydia’s strength and mystery. The kids were eating it up. Playtime went on with quite a joy.

Elsewhere in the village, Kori sat cross-legged on a porch, cradling a not so sleepy infant in her arms. Last time they visited, the baby had been a newborn. Now, she was nearly standing on her own. It hit her in a strange way—how time passed, how the world kept moving.

She took it upon herself to introduce the baby to her friends. Illogical? Sure. But it made sense in her head.

“Okay, I spy with my little eye... a tall girl with wavy hair. Yep, that's Lana! She’s obsessed with her looks, but don’t let that fool you—she’s hilarious and a way better friend than she pretends to be. Also great for making other people feel smart. Truly a gift.”

The baby blinked at her.

“Next, I spy with my little eye… a redhead with big dimples? Well done, that's Suzie! She's definitely the smartest in our group, not that she will ever have the satisfaction of hearing that! With all that brain, yet she is such a thickheaded bitch—wait I don't think I should curse in front of you, hope you don't snitch!” She cracked up, the small child looked a bit confused by it. “She's the one I've known the longest, and definitely the one I fight the most, in a loving way of course!”

Kori leaned in, lowering her voice. “Clear case of a kid who drank too much Kool-Aid growing up.”

The baby looked vaguely alarmed.

“Okay, okay. Next up— I spy with my little eye a girl who scrunches her nose when she smiles, which she's always doing? You're really good at this game, exactly, it's Jewels!” she tries to high five the kid, who has no idea what she's doing and looks as such. “She’s wearing pink like 70% of the time you see her, which is a lot! She always finds a way to be there for you, a big smile stamped on her face. If you're wondering about her and Suzie: no, they’re not a thing. Because Suzie is fucking stupid!”

The blonde gave the baby a look like she expected agreement. She didn’t get it.

“Saved the best for last!” her voice softened. “I spy with my little eyes a beautiful girl with sky blue eyes and luxurious black hair? Well, yes! That’s Lydia!”

She paused, just holding the baby a little tighter.

“She’s my girlfriend. Secret, so don’t go telling anyone, got it? I feel like the luckiest girl alive to get to be by her side, to fill her with love, to call her mine! She's definitely the reserved one in the group, but she's not one to take things quietly, I fear whoever tries to stand in her way!” She chuckled, patting the little girl's head. Smiling towards the square, she takes a good look at her girl before deciding it’s best to just call her over instead.

“Hey, Kori,” Lydia said once there.

“There is someone I would like you to meet,” the blonde said, passing her the infant. “ This is Pearl, she's a little shy and her cheeks are really squeezable.” She said, giving her chubby cheeks a little squeeze.

Lydia laughed. “I wonder how you introduce me to strangers.” Pearl didn't seem to mind being in her arms, she found her quite cute.

Kori smirked. “I’m sure you’d love to know.”

She kissed Lydia’s hairline—quick, affectionate. Lydia lets her get away with it, a smile creeping on her own face.

They talk for a bit, playing with the small kid before two young ladies approach them.

They played with the baby for a while until two young women approached, one carrying a kettle, the other smiling brightly.

“Would you girls like some tea?” one asked. Steam rose delicately from the spout. The aroma drifted through the air, curling into their senses before they even realized.

“Mmm... is that jasmine?” Lydia asked. They nodded. “And you’re still breastfeeding?” she asked, nodding toward Pearl, now in her mom’s arms. The mother nodded back, slightly confused.

“You know it’s not recommended during pregnancy or breastfeeding, right?” she says, pouring a cup of the tea for herself.

They looked stunned. “We had no idea! But we don’t drink it often—only when guests come over.” The second woman said. “Is it okay for you to have it though, Miss Fairy?” she asks worriedly.

“I’m neither,” Lydia said, taking another sip from the cup in her hands. “No need to worry.”

Kori leaned in, voice low and warm against her ear, just loud enough for the black haired girl alone to hear.

Whatever she whispered landed like a lightning strike.

Lydia jolted, choking on her tea so suddenly it shot through her nose. A sputtering, wheezing cough followed as she bent forward, face flushed bright red—half from embarrassment, half from sheer lack of oxygen.

The girls rushed forward. “Oh no! Are you okay?! Do you need to sit? Water?”

Kori, the very picture of innocence despite the smirk threatening her lips, kept a hand gently on Lydia’s back, patting in soft circles as she spoke calmly to the girls. “Wrong pipe,” she explained, nodding reassuringly. “She’ll be okay in just a second.”

Still flustered, the women hurried off to fetch water, vanishing inside their place.

Once they were gone, Kori took full advantage of the moment, slipping an arm around Lydia and pulling her in gently. Her touch was steady and soothing as she rubbed slow, comforting circles along the witch’s back.

“Breathe,” she murmured, close to her ear. “Slowly.”

Lydia gave her a small nod, trying to get air through her nose without falling apart all over again. Once her breathing steadied, she looked up to find Kori already watching her—smile tugging at her lips, somewhere between a guilty smirk and something soft, almost tender.

“You're insufferable” Lydia narrowed her eyes at her, but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto her face either, her face still bright red.

“And you look adorable when you blush,” Kori teased, stealing a quick kiss.

“They’ll be back in a second.” The black haired girl said, her face looking more softened.

“All the more reason to be quick, then.” Kori smiled, closing the gap between them once more– not with haste, but with intention. Her lips found Lydia’s in a kiss that started tender, slow, but simmered with restrained urgency. It lingered, deepening naturally, like they were both afraid to let go too soon.

Her fingers curled into the small of Lydia’s back, pressing her closer until there was nothing left between them but warmth and want. Lydia’s spine arched instinctively, chasing the contact, breath catching in her throat.

Kori’s other hand slid up, threading into Lydia’s dark hair before settling at the nape of her neck—firm, possessive, grounding her as their mouths moved in perfect rhythm. There was no hesitation in the way Kori held her; it was a silent declaration, bold and hungry.

They broke apart slightly, just enough to breathe—but not enough to let go. Their foreheads nearly touched, breaths mixing in the narrow space between them.

Lydia looked up through her lashes, giving her that look—slow-burning, needy, filled with longing. A wordless plea. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips kiss-bitten slightly parted, making the blonde want to lose grasp of reality.

The timing couldn’t have been worse—they were on some stranger’s porch, exposed, where anyone could catch them like this. Their friends would be with them later, so there was no such thing as just waiting for a bit, as they would be traveling together for the next couple days, there was no avoiding them. No escape.

But there was no stopping this either. This burning feeling. This endless desire. There was no denying that.

The blonde took action, as the village girls came back from the kitchen, she told them she would take Lydia outside to catch a fresh breeze, that it might help her feel better faster, and thanked for the water. Kori walked them hand in hand to the edge of the place, where there was no one around, she's been there enough times to know it well. She never thought this knowledge would come in handy for this, but well she wasn't complaining either.

Kori couldn’t help but feel like a horny lovesick teenager, sneaking off just to steal a few uninterrupted minutes with her girlfriend. The absurdity of it wasn’t lost on her—but neither was the thrill. There was something addictive about the secrecy, the quiet chase for stolen affection.

She pressed Lydia gently against the cool brick wall, slotting her body into hers with ease, like they’d been made to fit.

“Spending the night together wasn’t enough, huh?” she murmured low against Lydia’s ear, teasing.

Lydia let out a soft whimper as Kori’s lips found her neck, kissing and then sucking at the sensitive spot just beneath her hairline—hidden, but unmistakable. She covered her mouth with her hand in a futile attempt to stay quiet, but she didn’t stop her. In fact, she tilted her head even more, silently begging her to keep going.

Kori grinned against her skin.

One of her legs slid between Lydia’s, her hand finding the curve of her hips and pulling her close. She let her other hand wander, skimming down the small witch’s leg before trailing back up, anchoring her securely against her own body.

Lydia’s fingers found her chin, guiding her lips up—seeking, needing—and their mouths met again with an urgency that stole the breath from both of them. The kiss deepened fast, hungry and wanting, as if they hadn’t already spent half the night tangled together. As if this craving would never burn out.

One of Kori’s hands stayed firmly at Lydia’s thigh, grounding her, helping her hips get more friction. The other slid under her top, fingertips brushing the soft skin just beneath her chest—teasing, deliberate, unbearably gentle.

Lydia nibbled lightly on Kori’s bottom lip in warning.

Stop messing around.

Message received.

Kori crashed back into her, kissing her with new fire—less teasing, more devotion. She gave Lydia exactly what she wanted, and the small girl gasped at the sudden intensity, her moans soft and breathy between kisses and heat and entwined limbs.

The pressure between them built slowly, a steady, smoldering rise. Lydia’s body melted into Kori’s solid, grounding embrace, held safely in her arms as the tension climbed higher. It wasn’t long before it crested—her breath hitched, her body trembling as waves of release rippled through her. Kori held her through it, cradling her like if she was the most precious sacred thing in the world, because in her eyes, it truly was. Her hands never left, her lips still brushing Lydia’s skin, gently kissing, whispering sweet reassurances that only she would hear.

They stayed like that for a moment longer than they should have, tangled up in breath and affection and something that felt dangerously close to forever.

Eventually, Lydia lifted her head from Kori’s shoulder, eyes still hazy, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips—tender, cherishing, and full of wordless gratitude. When she finally pulled back, a big, dazed smile stretched across her face.

By the time they returned to the village’s square, the glow on Lydia’s face had only just started to fade.

“Lydia,” Suzie called, glancing over from where she and Jewels had been waiting. “A couple of the villagers were asking for your help—some health issues that could use your… expertise.”

“We're gonna put your potions to good use,” Jewels chimed in, already gesturing for Lydia to follow. “I’ll show you where they’re resting.”

Lydia nodded and trailed after her, her maxi skirt swaying gently with each step.

Kori didn’t move. She just stood there watching her walk away, completely starry-eyed, mouth parted slightly, looking every bit like she’d been hexed.

Suzie squinted at her. Then sighed, loud and exasperated.

“Oh, Jesus. Wipe that look off your face, it’s disgusting.”

Kori blinked innocently. “No idea what you’re talking about, Boots." She looked way too smug.

“You’re basically drooling.”

Kori gave a lazy shrug. “Can you blame me?”

Suzie made a face and pinched the bridge of her nose.

If only she knew just how much Kori had to drool over.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⊹₊⟡⋆༄.°༘⋆

The night sky hung above them like a velvet blanket, stars soft and scattered, as the village settled into its quiet rhythm. Dinner simmered nearby, the smell of roasted root vegetables and herbs wafting in on the breeze. Their little group had been given a guesthouse for the night—just a single room, but cozy, with enough space for them to rest before setting off again at sunrise.

Inside, the mood was slow and warm. The lighting was low and cozy, a single oil lamp flickering on the table. Lana and Suzie sat near the window playing cards, elbows bumping and laughter slipping out between rounds. Jewels lounged belly-down on a floor cushion, flipping through a worn old fashion magazine, some decades out of date. Lydia was on the couch with another copy in her hands, but her eyes were mostly on the door.

She didn’t turn the page once.

“She’s been in there forever,” Suzie murmured, rearranging her hand.

“She likes her water practically boiling,” Lana said. “She probably just melted into the tub.”

“She always takes long showers,” Lydia offered, too quickly.

Jewels grinned, not looking up. “Sure, but you only start fidgeting at minute ten.”

Lydia opened her mouth to protest—but then the door opened.

And in walked Kori, cheeks glowing, steam still clinging to her damp hair. Her eyes landed on Lydia instantly, and the grin that spread across her face could’ve lit the whole room.

“There you are,” she said in a warm tone, like Lydia was the only person in the world.

Before anyone could blink, Kori crossed the room in two strides and swept Lydia up from behind, arms tight around her waist. Lydia let out a startled laugh as her feet left the ground and the world spun once—twice—before she was gently set back down.

And then, without a word, she turned in Kori’s arms, slid her fingers into her damp hair, and kissed her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Soft and slow at first. Then a little deeper.

And longer.

And definitely not very secret.

By the time they finally pulled apart, the room had gone dead quiet.

“Ding, I win,” Jewels said, chipper as anything, biting the tip of her nail with a grin.

Suzie stared. “Wait—what?”

Lana blinked. “Holy shit.”

Jewels leaned back on her elbows. “I told you two. You never bet against the smoldering eye contact.”

Lana groaned. “Ugh. What do you even want?”

“I’ll take the new pair of enchanted bows by next week, thanks.” Jewels grinned.
Then turned to Suzie. “And you owe me a pair of those brown leather boots. Size eight. I want the ones with the silver buckles.”

Suzie’s mouth opened and closed. “Why are mine so much more expensive?!”

“Because you were certain it was one-sided. You said—and I quote—‘Kori’s hopelessly in love with her, and Lydia’s either oblivious or too polite to let her down.’ That level of denial costs extra.”

Suzie buried her face in her hands. “I thought I was protecting her.”

Meanwhile, Kori was still holding Lydia by the waist, her grin slowly fading into soft panic. “So, uh... secret’s out?”

Lydia sighed, forehead falling lightly against Kori’s. “You couldn’t have waited five more minutes?”

“You looked too good not to spin,” Kori murmured, pressing her lips on Lydia's face.

“Gross,” Suzie said, an exaggerated look of disgust on her face.

“I love it. Keep going.” Jewels said fondly, flipping the magazine shut.

And with that, a whole interrogation began.

Jewels didn’t even give them a moment to settle. “Alright, both of you—sit. We have questions.”

Kori made herself comfortable on the couch, legs stretched out like she owned the place. There was an open spot beside her, and even the armrest was available, but Lydia didn’t bother with either—she climbed straight into Kori’s lap, where the blonde’s arms wrapped instinctively around her waist.

Right where she belonged.

Jewels squinted at them, then spoke—slow, dramatic. “So... how long has this been going on?”

Lydia answered calmly. “Since the waterfall incident.”

There was a beat of silence.

“That was over a month ago!” Lana blurted out. Everyone turned to her, stunned she not only did the math on the spot but got it spot on.

Lana blinked. “What? I can do that much.”

“Who made the first move?” she asked next, eyes flicking between them.

“Lydia did,” Kori replied without hesitation, one hand now tracing lazy circles along the small girl’s exposed thigh.

“That somehow doesn’t surprise me,” Suzie smirked. “Are you two always this... clingy?” she asked, gesturing at them.

“You could say that, sure,” Lydia admitted, a little shy but not pulling away.

“Let me hold the woman I love, Suzie,” Kori shot back, utterly unbothered.

Lydia froze.

The words landed with the weight of a spell. It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt it before. The blonde had shown it in a thousand ways—every quiet yet lingering glance, every protective gesture, every tender touch, every whispered word when it was just the two of them. But this is the first time Kori has said it. Ever. Lydia’s breath caught, her heart stuttering in her chest like it was trying to catch up to what she’d just heard. Her cheeks flushed—hot and pink and unmissable.

Jewels raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Suzie looked surprised but smiled softly.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” The redhead asked, more curious than anything. “How long were you planning on keeping it a secret?”

“So much was going on when it happened” Kori says, taking a good look at Lydia, only to find her looking right back at her. A genuine smile shows on her face, her softness, open and unguarded side showing, something her friends don't get to see from her so often. It shows how sincere she was about all this. “We wanted to take things on our own time, figure out for ourselves how it was going to work. And… I definitely liked having a part of Lydia all for myself, I can't deny that”

Lydia placed a hand on her cheek, brushing her thumb gently across her skin. “Babe,” she said, voice soft and full of feeling. Her whole face was still flushed, but the look in her eyes said everything.

Jewels grinned. “So you two are like, together-together, huh?” Not that she really needed an answer, it was more than clear just by looking at them, completely immersed in each other's presence.

“Well, yes!” Kori replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. Roses are red, violets are blue, and they were in love.

“Ugh, get a room,” Lana groaned, rolling her eyes with a laugh.

“Haa, don't threaten me with a good time” Kori laughed with a smirk. Lydia buried her face in Kori’s shoulder, muffling her giggling. The blonde tightened her hold on her.

“We’re in a one-room house,” Suzie deadpanned. “Please, don’t.”

“So this is how our trips are gonna be now?” Lana added. “Are we all just here to cockblock you two?”

“They've been hiding until now,” Jewels said with a giggle. “They can handle themselves.”

“Things’ll stay the same as always,” Kori promised. “Nothing’s changing.”

But her eyes never left Lydia—and the look they shared said otherwise.

Chapter Text

They were playing cards after dinner — a dinner prepared by Jewels, no less. Butter chicken, creamy, rich and flavorful. Even Suzie cleaned her plate, which said a lot. Technically, it was Lydia’s turn to cook, but earlier that day, on the walk to their new lodging, she’d spotted a venomous snake.

That wasn’t strange in itself. It wasn’t moving toward them or trying to hide, just coiled in the brush, calmly existing. The witch suggested they should try to take it, the group didn't really mess with wild life unless necessary. So when Lydia mentioned it, everyone assumed it was for potions.

Logical. Sensible. Reasonable.

Completely wrong.

The witch wanted to eat it. Said so as casually as if she were suggesting tea. And she meant it.

She went on to explain how plenty of cultures worked snake into their cuisines, comparing the meat to chicken—sometimes even fish—and rattling off different ways it could be cooked to taste amazing. That was all well and good, but listen… they were adventurers. They already spent half their lives in the wilderness doing insane things most people couldn’t even imagine. This, though? This was a whole different level, one none of them had any interest in reaching unless the world literally forced them to. Like—no shot, not in a million years, would you catch Suzie eating a rattlesnake just for fun. Or Kori. Or Jewels. Or Lana. Basically anyone. Anyone except, apparently, Lydia.

When they stared at her like she’d just confessed to eating people, she doubled down, casually adding frogs, grasshoppers, and snails to the list.

Silence. Long, awkward silence.

First question, out of genuine concern: What the hell did they feed you in the coven? Lydia laughed and swore it was normal food, though no one was convinced. Second question: had she ever eaten any of these things? Nope — but she wouldn’t mind trying.

Over Kori’s dead body.

The blonde didn’t say it aloud, but the thought was clear in her eyes. This new, horrifying fact joined their group’s growing list of “Lydia safety hazards” — alongside her habit of picking any random plant just to see what she could brew from it, regardless of how deadly it might be. The only reason she hadn’t poisoned herself yet was because her girlfriend always stopped her.

A unanimous vote followed: Lydia was banned from cooking. Forever. She could help — under maximum security supervision — but unsupervised? Absolutely not.

And that's how things continued the same, Jewels and Lana are the only ones in the team in charge of cooking. Jewels was already a pretty decent cook by the time she got to the guild, it seems her parents loved to have her join them in the kitchen from a young age, so she truly knew what she was doing, she just has to adapt that to cooking in places that weren't a fully equipped kitchen, but she learned pretty early on the dos and don'ts, plus she knew how to cook a great variety of meals, which was great for everyone. Lana only got into cooking after she enjoyed the guild, so her cooking is a little more experimental, but nowadays it's safe to eat it, something they could not say when she started, and they learned the hard way. What about the other two girls in the group, Suzie and Kori? Well, the one and only thing Suzie can make is chicken nuggets (no surprise there), her favorite food and the only thing she would eat if it depended solely on her. And Kori may know how to do a thing or two about cooking — but lacked the patience, attention span, and willingness to not burn the whole thing down.

The girls were playing cards to pass the time. Kori and Suzie were in their usual hyper-competitive mode — the kind that came with bickering, threats of shoving, and over-the-top dramatics. Jewels, still shaky on the rules, was there to enjoy the moment and laugh at how chaotic her friends are. Lana knew how to play but wasn’t exactly a threat; her strategy was hit-or-miss at best.

Lydia joined later, having finished the dishes and not really planning on playing. She settled behind Kori at the picnic table outside, the crescent moon dim enough that the stars took over the night sky. Pressed against Kori’s back, Lydia draped her arms over the blonde’s shoulders, resting her head against hers, occasionally planting soft kisses or nuzzling. Kori would sneak glances at her cards, but more often than not she looked back just to return a kiss. The others seemed unbothered by the pair’s closeness—which was nice, until Kori started winning. Again. And again.

That was when Suzie slammed her cards down.

"That's enough out of you, Kori! And you—" Suzie jabbed a finger at Lydia. "What kind of witch magic is this? Making Kori win over and over? How’s that even fair?!"

"Haaa, just admit I’m better at this game than you, Boots," the blonde teased.

"Oh, please. You’re not better. Lydia’s clearly doing something," Lana chimed in.

"She’s just showing off for her," Jewels giggled.

"You hoes are just mad jealous that I’m crushing you all!"

"Lydia, c’mon over here. Let me test your ‘luck’ for myself," Lana joked.

"Nuh-uh, Lyds! Join me and let me win a couple rounds," Suzie insisted.

"I think Lydia should join me so I can finally win for once," Jewels said hopefully.

"Bitch, you keep every card you think is cute. That’s why you can’t win," Lana clapped back.

"Yeah, you’re just hopeless," Suzie laughed.

"Wait, is that why you suck at this?" Lydia asked, turning to Jewels, genuinely surprised at how easy the fix sounded.

"I like the hearts, and I’m having fun, thank you very much," Jewels defended herself, as if that was perfectly reasonable. The table burst into laughter.

"Lyds, you should play the next round, just to see what happens," Suzie said, already shuffling the deck.

"Ooh, that’s a great idea!" Jewels agreed.

"Yeah — help us make sure Kori doesn’t win again," Lana added.

"Oh, fuck me," Kori groaned.

"Sure. Later, babe," Lydia smirked. Kori broke into laughter.

"Jesus Christ, you two are disgusting," Suzie deadpanned, pinching the bridge of her nose like it physically pained her.

"Yeah, there’s only so much of that I can watch," Lana said, equally unamused.

"I guess we’ll be excusing ourselves, then," Lydia giggled, slipping away from Kori’s back.

"Don’t come looking for us. Seriously," Kori warned, already sliding an arm around Lydia’s waist and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I’d rather drink bleach, diva," Suzie chuckled.

"Look at that — you’ll finally get to win again. Have fun," Kori called back as the two walked off. She didn’t need to turn around to know Suzie was flipping her off. She could feel it.

The meadow opened up before them like a quiet secret, the cabin fading into the dark behind them. The grass brushed at their calves as they walked, cool and soft, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. The night air felt lighter here, untouched by the noise of the guildmates still bickering over cards.

Kori was the first to drop into the grass, stretching out like she’d claimed it for herself. “Best decision we made all night,” she murmured, folding her hands behind her head.

Lydia lowered herself beside her, the fabric of her dark summer dress spilling over the grass, her shoulder brushing Kori’s. “You mean ditching them or ending on a winning streak?”

“Both,” Kori said, eyes still on the stars. “Though I’d have left either way if it meant having you to myself.”

Lydia tilted her head toward her, an amused curve to her lips. “Smooth, babe. How long were you holding that one in?”

“About thirty seconds,” Kori admitted, turning her head just enough to catch Lydia’s smile. “Worth it.”

Above them, the sky was deep and endless, the crescent moon just a sliver of silver, letting the stars take center stage. A lazy breeze stirred the tall grass, making it whisper softly around them. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called, and crickets hummed their steady rhythm.

For a while, neither spoke. Lydia’s fingers found Kori’s, tracing along the back of her hand before weaving together. Kori gave her hand a squeeze.

“You always look at the stars like they’re telling you something,” Kori said after a moment.

“Maybe they are,” Lydia replied, her voice soft but tinged with mischief. “Right now, they’re saying you’re staring at me more than you’re staring at them.”

Kori smirked. “Can you blame me?”

The meadow stretched out around them, quiet and endless under the star-strewn sky. Lydia turned fully toward Kori now, lying on her side so her hair spilled between them like a curtain of dark silk.

“Careful,” she said, her voice low, teasing. “If you keep that up, I might start thinking you have a crush on me.” Her blue eyes caught the starlight, glimmering even in the low glow of the crescent moon.

“Crush?” Kori raised a brow, a soft chuckle escaping her. “Oh, I think we’re way past that.”

Their joined hands shifted, Kori’s thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles over Lydia’s skin. The witch’s gaze lingered on her — warm, inviting, steady in a way that made the moment stretch.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Lydia murmured.

“That you’re trouble,” the tall girl whispered, leaning in closer, her voice low and full of feeling, “and how much I love you.”

Lydia’s lips curved, slow and deliberate, the kind of smile that held a thousand unspoken things. “Good,” she breathed, her free hand finding its way to the side of Kori’s face, fingertips brushing lightly along her jaw. Then, without warning, Kori’s arms wrapped firmly around black haired girl’s waist, pulling her up. In an instant, Lydia was straddling her, their bodies pressed close in the cool meadow air.

Their lips finally met—slow, deep, and unhurried—holding all the words they hadn’t said yet. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling into each other like they were still connected.

Lydia’s blue eyes locked onto Kori’s with full intensity, a whisper escaping her lips, “I love you too.”

And with that, she pulled Kori back into another kiss—soft, certain, and utterly theirs—beneath the endless sky scattered with stars.

Eventually, the blonde eased Lydia back onto the grass, their bodies still comfortably tangled. Lydia’s head rested on Kori’s shoulder, one arm draped around her neck, while Kori’s cheek pressed gently against the crown of her dark hair. The witch’s fingers idly combed through Kori’s hair, soft strokes that matched the slow rhythm of their breathing.

Together, they gazed up at the endless night, pointing out constellations they thought they recognized, guessing which planets might be shining above, and inventing entirely new star patterns just to make each other laugh. Time felt suspended, each quiet chuckle and lingering touch weaving the moment tighter around them.

It felt as though this could last forever—and if it did, neither would mind. They were so deeply in love, so entirely at peace, that nothing else seemed to matter.

For a long moment, they simply lay under the stars, Lydia tucked against Kori’s side, the quiet night wrapping around them. Then, Lydia broke the silence.

“Babe,” she murmured, tracing small circles on the blonde’s arm, “what’s the deal with Suzie and Jewels? I still… can’t figure it out. Are they really just friends? Something more? Maybe they were a thing at some point? It feels like there’s something there I’m not seeing.”

Kori chuckled softly, her gaze still on the sky. “That’s not an easy answer. You wanna know how it all started?”

Lydia nodded, curious.

“Something like five years ago,” Kori began, “Jewels had just joined the guild. Total rookie—bright-eyed, green, didn’t know what the hell she was walking into. But, unlike you, had truly no experience. Her first mock battle was against Suzie.”

Lydia perked up at that. “Oh no.”

“Oh yeah,” Kori grinned. “And Suzie had just gotten her third alias: Copper Maiden. Big deal. I mean, she beat me to it, which pissed me off—don’t get me wrong—but I was proud of her. She was feeling herself, you know? Too much, maybe. And she went a little hard on Jewels. Nothing life-threatening, just a few scratches, but enough to shake the poor girl. Jewels even cried—a couple tears, that’s all.”

Lydia blinked. “Suzie made someone cry? She doesn’t exactly seem like she takes that lightly.”

“She didn’t,” Kori said with a sigh. “She’s carried it ever since. For Jewels, it was just a wake-up call. She remembers it as the moment she realized she needed to get stronger—no resentment, no grudge. But Suzie? She sees it as the first time she ever hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. She blamed herself like hell.”

Lydia frowned. “So… they’ve been carrying two completely different memories of the same day?”

“Exactly.” Kori’s voice softened. “From there, they got closer. Jewels started tagging along on quests, and… well, feelings happened. Suzie never let herself admit hers. Jewels thought hers were one-sided. So they’ve been circling each other for years, both too scared to push.”

Before Lydia could respond, a soft clatter startled them. They turned to see Jewels standing a few feet away, a tray of steaming cocoa spilled across the grass. Her hands trembled as tears slid down her cheeks.

“Jewels—” Kori started, sitting up.

“I’m fine,” Jewels interrupted quickly, forcing a shaky smile through the tears.
“I… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just—” She looked at the spilled cups, then back at them, her voice breaking. “Sorry.”

Before either of them could move, she turned and hurried off into the night.

“Should we follow her?” Lydia asked, already halfway up.

Kori reached out, gently pulling her back down. “No. She’s going to Suzie. That’s where she needs to be. This was bound to happen sooner or later.” She pressed a kiss to Lydia’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Jewels burst into the cabin with her face already wet, breaths coming in shallow sobs. Suzie was on her feet instantly, eyes wide.

“Jewels? What—what happened?” she asked, reaching out.

But Jewels didn’t wait. She crashed into her arms, trembling, fists gripping at Suzie’s shirt like she was afraid she’d disappear. For a moment all Suzie could do was hold her as the sobs wracked through her body.

When Jewels finally found her voice, it came cracked and bitter. “You… you should’ve told me, Suzie.”

Suzie stilled. “…Told you what?”

“That you’ve been carrying this—this stupid thing,” Jewels spat, pulling back just enough to look at her, eyes red and wild. “All this time, beating yourself up over a fight that didn’t mean anything. I was new, I was weak, and I would’ve lost to anyone. It just happened to be you! And you let it eat you alive for years without saying a word.”

Her voice broke again, and she pressed her forehead against Suzie’s shoulder, fists tightening. “Do you know how it feels, finding that out? That you’ve been… hurting yourself over me, when I never blamed you? That I didn’t even notice, because I was too busy—” She cut herself off, choking on a fresh wave of tears. “—too busy trying not to love you.”

Suzie’s breath caught, guilt hitting like a weight in her chest.

“It hurts, Suzie,” Jewels whispered, raw and jagged. “Loving you hurts. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I have to carry this alone while you… while you carry guilt that doesn’t even belong to you.” Her hands loosened, falling limp against Suzie’s sides. “You should’ve told me. You should’ve trusted me.”

Jewels’ sobs kept breaking through her chest, hot and ragged, until exhaustion finally started to drag at her body. Curled against Suzie, clinging like she might fall apart without the anchor, her breathing slowly evened out between the last trembling whimpers.

She wept herself into sleep in Suzie’s arms.

But Suzie didn’t sleep. She sat there rigid, staring into the dark, guilt gnawing at her from the inside out. Every word Jewels had thrown at her echoed mercilessly in her head, sharper than any blade. She wanted to whisper something—an apology, a promise, anything—but her throat locked shut.

So she held her in silence, feeling the weight of Jewels’ heartbreak against her chest, and the unbearable truth that her own silence had helped put it there.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

To say the next two days were long ass fuck is an understatement.The vibe was off—awkward at best, suffocating at worst. Jewels and Suzie couldn't be in the same room together without the tension rising sky high. They kept civil, there was no fighting or tears, but they also weren’t looking at each other, which somehow made things worse. The other three had to work overtime to make sure things didn't feel like shit while they were all stuck together, which means Lana was glued to Jewels, no matter what they had to do, they were doing it together. Suzie was assigned to be with Kori and Lydia, meaning she was third wheeling on top of her own emotional turmoil, a stellar combination if you think about it.

The couple did try their best not to make her feel like an intruder, but Suzie wasn’t blind. It was hard not to notice how Kori’s hand was always somewhere on Lydia, how their eyes lingered a little too long, how Lydia always found excuses to lean against her girl. Sometimes they’d even joke and tell Suzie to “close your eyes for a second” just so they could kiss, like she was their kid. Cute? Sure. Subtle? Not even close.

And waking up in the middle of the night only to see them curled up together didn’t exactly help either. Especially since Kori snores, and Lydia has the unfortunate sleeping aesthetic of a Victorian orphan on her deathbed. Throw in the blonde’s massive arm draped across her throat, and Suzie genuinely thought she was witnessing a homicide. Not a restful sight.

On the way back, Lydia decided it was her personal mission to make sure everyone had a good time despite the circumstances. And how exactly did she plan on doing that? Simple. She got everyone high.

In theory, if the whole squad was tripping, the awkward train ride back to the guild would pass like a breeze. No tension, no sulking—just vibes. Simple plan. Extremely questionable execution. Like… very, very questionable.

See, the small witch can brew potions in her sleep, so obviously she thought she could just whip up a little something to get everyone feeling mellow. Only this time, she didn’t bother with measuring. A fatal mistake. Instead of calming everyone down or making them a little giggly, she launched them into orbit. Not “ah, I’m chill” high—more like “reaching for the stars, having philosophical conversations with the luggage” high.

Now, Kori normally doesn't like this kind of thing. She didn’t like being high, didn’t mind when the others were high, just against it while they’re still working. But even she couldn’t stand the suffocating awkwardness anymore. And since they were already heading home, she sighed, rolled her eyes, and gave Lydia the green light.

That’s how Kori ended up on the return trip not with her guildmates and girlfriend, but with three rowdy, adult-sized toddlers… and one floppy ragdoll masquerading as a person. A delightful experience.

Does Kori ever think about having kids one day? Sure—sometimes. But after surviving this circus, she’s almost certain the answer is a big, resounding hell no.

How bad was it? Well… Sweet Jewels could only communicate through animal noises and cartoon sound effects. Lana Bear decided she was the second coming of Socrates and spewed philosophical nonsense that could scramble your brain if you tried too hard to follow. Dear Suzie had fully left her body—drifting galaxies away—and was so unresponsive that Kori literally had to carry her all the way home. Lovely Lydia, meanwhile, turned into a clingy little sweetheart who parroted other people’s words back at them. Adorable, yes. Helpful? Absolutely not. By the time they stumbled from the station to the guild, Kori was convinced she’d earned a lifetime break from babysitting.

But at least it beat the tension.

Once she’d wrangled them all home safe, it wasn’t too hard to tuck everyone into bed and let them sleep the wild high away. Well—everyone except Lydia.

Why? She slipped out like a gremlin and wandered straight into the kitchen—where Hormona found her and immediately turned into her #1 fan. By the time Kori came looking for her girl, she found Lydia already settled in the guild’s living room, completely surrounded by their guildmates who seemed to adore the toddler version of her. With a tired smile, Kori slid into the circle, content to just be by her side.

“Aren’t you adorable, Miss Witch?” Crystal cooed.

“She doesn’t look deadly anymore. I like her better this way,” Sam added.

“Does Lydia want a cookie?” Hormona asked in a baby voice. Lydia’s eyes lit up and she nodded furiously, humming with delight when the cookie touched her lips.

“Hey Kori, wanna explain this?” Onya gestured at the black-haired witch now clapping for herself.

“Oh, she's tripping balls,” Kori chuckled, taking a seat next to Crystal.

“Yeah, no shit,” Crystal snorted.

“Hook me up with whatever she’s on,” Lexi grinned. “She looks like she’s having a blast.”

Lydia beamed and made a fish face when someone asked for a silly one. The room exploded in applause. Lydia joined in, clapping for herself like a toddler at her own birthday.

Then things escalated a little.

“Do you think she bites?” Sam asked.

“Nah, she ain’t Suzie,” Kori deadpanned.

“What about a hug?” Hormona stretched her arms wide. Lydia bounced up to hug her without hesitation.

“She’s such a cutie,” Hormona squealed.

“Lydia, give me one too!” Sam demanded.

Instead, Lydia stuck her tongue out, Sam’s face dropped and everyone cackled. Without warning, she started clapping her hands and breaking into an off-beat “head, shoulders, knees and toes” routine, wobbling through the motions with way too much enthusiasm. Kori tried (and failed) to keep a straight face while everyone else lost it.

“Kori, what are the chances of her not remembering any of this later?” Crystal asked, resting a hand on Kori’s shoulder.

“Probably none,” Kori chuckled.

At that, Lydia’s cheerful smile instantly melted into a pout—arms crossed, brows knit, big blue eyes locked on the blonde. The shift was so sudden everyone went quiet, watching as the small witch stomped closer to the sofa.

“Mine,” Lydia babbled, once, twice, then firmly removed Crystal’s hand from Kori’s shoulder. Without hesitation, she climbed right onto Kori’s lap, patting the blonde’s head like a prized possession. “Kori is mine,” she finished with conviction.

The room froze in stunned silence, eyes wide at the blatant display. Kori just laughed and wrapped her arms around her witch.

“Hey, babe,” Kori murmured, and that single word brought Lydia’s smile back in full force. She cooed happily, nestling her head on Kori’s shoulder, her hand sliding from patting her hair to cupping her face. Kori gazed back at her, a soft grin carrying every ounce of affection she had.

Everyone else? Staring.

“What’s going on between you two?” Crystal finally broke the silence.

“You two seem awfully close,” Hormonal giggled.

“The cards showed it,” Lexi smirked. “Didn’t think I’d actually live to see it, though.”

“Really, Kori?” Onya teased with a raised brow.

“There is no way,” Sam gasped.

Kori shrugged with a smile. “Me and Lydia are together. Happy now?”

“We can tell,” Crystal laughed. “You two look really cute together.”

“If you ever need a third—” Lexi started.

“No,” Kori cut her off immediately.

“I’m happy for you two!” Hormona beamed. “I need to bake something to celebrate!”

“You don’t need an excuse to bake, you do it every other day,” Sam shot back.

“So you’re actually serious about this?” Onya asked, tone softer.

“Well, yes!,” Kori said without hesitation. “I am.”

“Good,” Onya smiled. “Then I wish you two the best.”

Before Kori could even thank the guild master, the small girl was already nuzzling into her neck, humming softly, her arm looped tight around the blonde’s shoulders as if to anchor her there. Kori glanced down, eyes warm and starry, like she was looking at her entire world. She excused herself with a quiet laugh, saying it was time to put her girl to bed.

Instead of heading back to the shed, she carried Lydia to her own room—though truthfully, it didn’t matter where they ended up. No matter the bed, Kori would always find herself with Lydia wrapped around her. Once inside, Lydia pulled her close and kissed her—hungry, yet soft—clinging like she was afraid Kori might vanish, like Kori wasn’t already hers completely. It was clear her favorite place on earth was right there, in the blonde’s arms.

But no matter how much she tried to fight it, sleep soon crept up on her. Kori kissed her one last time before Lydia drifted off, a small, content smile lingering on her lips. The blonde stayed there a moment longer, memorizing her peaceful face—the scatter of freckles, the long lashes, the way her lips parted just slightly, bangs tousled across her forehead. Ethereal. She pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before curling in close, ready to steal a well-earned nap of her own.

The aftermath was less dreamy. When Lydia learned the next day exactly what she had done, she nearly died of embarrassment, burying herself under the sheets while Kori gleefully recounted every detail, laughing so hard she could barely get the words out. Meanwhile, Lana slipped away to her sister’s place, as she often did after quests. Only this time was different—Jewels went along with her. And that had never happened before.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚✧˖°.༘⋆₊˚⊹⋆

Suzie had been holed up in her room all day. Jewels wasn’t even around, so there was no risk of awkward run-ins—but that didn’t make it any less worrying.

Part of Kori wanted to respect her best friend’s space, but she knew Suzie. What she really needed right now wasn’t solitude—it was someone to sit beside her and cut through the noise in her head.

Sure, months ago when Kori had been the one barricaded in her room, she didn’t want to see a single soul, let alone talk. But just because she processed things that way didn’t mean Suzie did. The redhead would never ask her to stay, never say please listen to me. But Kori knew. They were best friends. Ride or dies. Two dumb bitches who overthought everything.

She knocked—actually waiting for an answer this time before barging in, which for the tall girl was a miracle.

“Boots, open up, I brought some food,” she called, her voice its usual loud, unapologetic self.

It took a moment before anything came from the other side.

“Kori, I’m fine. Just go away,” Suzie finally said. Her voice was anything but fine—not that Kori needed to hear it to know.

“I will break this door in half if you don’t open it.”

“Bitch, you won’t.”

“Oh, try me.”

Suzie knew her too well. A few seconds later, the door cracked open—not out of trust, but because Suzie knew Kori would absolutely follow through.

“I brought options,” Kori announced, stepping in and placing a small feast on the side table. “Chicken nuggets, curly fries, ice cream, cake. Take your pick.”

She took a quick look around. The room—usually pristine—was a mess. Not bad by Kori’s standards, but for Suzie, it was chaos. The redhead lowered herself back to the floor, avoiding eye contact.

“I feel nauseous. I don’t feel like eating,” she muttered.

“The last time you ate was, what—yesterday? You need to at least try,” Kori said, trying not to let her concern seep into her tone. She let it drop for now and slid down onto the cool wooden floor beside her. “We could just talk instead.”

“I don’t think I can make coherent sentences.”

“That’s fine. I’ll let you know if I can’t understand you.” the blonde assured.

“I feel like I'm suffocating on air... drowning on water” Suzie takes a shaky breath. “And yet I don't understand anything”

Kori’s own voice softened. “Guess being forced to face your feelings after five years will do that.”

Suzie turned her head at that, and Kori caught the single tear slipping free. The first of many.

“I didn’t realize I was just hurting her, Kori! What’s wrong with me? How could I be so blind?” she sniffled.

“You’ve been so caught up in your own head that you couldn’t see hers. You didn’t notice her pain,” Kori said gently.

That broke her. Suzie sobbed, and Kori sat up, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay. Let it out, Boots.” She patted her back softly. “How’re you feeling now?” she asked after a while.

“Miserable. Thanks for asking, diva,” Suzie deadpanned, making Kori chuckle.

“I feel like I destroyed something precious to me. Everything’s sore, everything hurts. My bed still smells like her perfume, half my wardrobe she picked out for me, and every time I close my eyes all I see is her face—her teary face…” Suzie’s voice cracked, breaking under the weight of it.

Kori tilted her head, taking in the sight of her friend curled on the floor. “So that’s why you’re down here wearing the ugliest thing in your closet. Got it.”

Suzie let out a weak, reluctant smile—more politeness than amusement.

“For the record,” Kori added quickly, “I don’t think you destroyed anything. This was bound to happen. Honestly? I’m shocked it took this long.”

Suzie groaned, dragging a sleeve across her damp cheeks. “Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because somehow, I feel worse.”

“Bitch, no! You keep cutting me off before I can get to the good part.” Kori threw up her hands. “Just shut up and listen for once. The way things were going wasn’t good for either of you—it was always gonna crack eventually, whether you admit it or not. You didn’t ruin anything. You just… hit the part you two kept pretending wasn’t there.”

Suzie blinked up at her, wounded but listening.

Kori leaned down a little, softer now but still sharp: “So the question is, are you gonna let her in this time… or are you gonna keep pushing her away until she’s gone for good?”

“Jewels must hate me now.” Suzie said, putting her head on her knees, bracing her legs.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s upset, yeah. But she doesn’t hate you.” the blonde answered.

“I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. I don’t even know what to do when I see her.” the redhead said, her voice muffed by her skin.

“Start by telling her how you feel. The rest you figure out together.”

“She shouldn't love someone like me.” Suzie sniffled.

“Well, she does, so what? There is nothing wrong with loving a face not even a mother could!”

Suzie shot back without missing a beat. “Lydia seems to manage just fine with you.” finally looking up and back at the tall girl again.

“Bitch!” Kori barked a laugh, and the tension cracked just enough for both of them to laugh together.

“Now eat before your ice cream becomes soup,” Kori said, shoving the tub at her

“Fine. Pass the whole thing.” Suzie sighed.

They ate in comfortable silence, broken only by occasional insults. Kori finally said, “You need to forgive yourself, stop torturing yourself, and just appreciate what you’ve got right in front of you. Jewels doesn’t need the perfect version of you. She likes the fucked-up version just fine.”

“You can’t just be nice for one full sentence, can you?” Suzie shoved her shoulder.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did,” Kori shot back.

“You may have a point there, bitch.” Suzie chuckled. “Do you think it’ll all be okay?” she asked quietly.

“With time,” the blonde said sincerely. “There’s stuff you still need to figure out, but you’ll get there.”

“Since when do you have all the answers? What has being in love done to you, huh?” Suzie asked, they both laughed.

“I love Lydia with everything I have. The thought of not being on good terms with her would tear me apart—so it’s pretty simple, really. I just remind myself of that, and the right choice is always clear.” Kori said, her voice warm and sincere.

“You were a mess when she left,” Suzie pointed out.

“The same way you’re a mess now.”

Suzie ignored the jab. “What would you do without her?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. I can’t imagine a happy life without her in it.”

“Sappy bitch. She’s taken over you completely.” Suzie laughed

“Well, yes!” Kori laughed. Then, softer, “You deserve that kind of happiness too, Boots.”

Suzie just gave her a shy smile.

They sat there on the floor, eating, talking trash, and letting the silences sit comfortably between them. When Kori finally stood to leave, she gave her a once-over from the doorway.

“You look like you stink. Take a shower and wear something that doesn’t scream ‘I’ve descended into depression.’”

She shut the door, then cracked it open again, poking her head in. “If you need to talk later, just come find me. I’m here for you. Got it, Boots?”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It started with the two of them curled up together in the shed’s bed, candles flickering in the corners, their soft light dancing over the walls. Outside, light rain tapped against the windows, the wind slipping through the cracks and carrying the scent of wet earth. Clouds blanketed most of the night sky, promising heavier rain later.

They hadn’t had a moment alone since the first day of mission—days of exhaustion, chaos, and too much company. Now, finally, it was just them, catching up in their own way. Lydia’s head rested on Kori’s chest, her fingers lazily stroking the blonde’s arm, while Kori’s hand traced gentle lines down her back, occasionally nuzzling her nose into the witch’s black hair, drinking her in.

It was all tender, innocent… until the small witch decided it wasn't.

Her hand slipped beneath Kori’s shirt, brushing over her nipples with a slow, deliberate tease. At first, she only toyed with them, watching the way they hardened beneath her touch. Then she began pressing, circling, caressing—taking her time as her palm warmed the soft skin. Finally, she pushed the pink shirt up, letting the blonde’s chest be fully exposed to her gaze.

No matter how many times she saw her like this, Lydia never got used to it—Kori’s beauty always caught her off guard. She took her time, almost reverent, before leaning in to kiss, lick, and suck at one side while her hand worked the other.

Kori giggled softly but didn’t stop her.

The blonde had always been more comfortable giving than receiving—she thrived on pleasing Lydia—but every so often, she let the smaller girl have her way, and never once regretted it. Lydia’s touch burned against her skin, her tongue moved like it belonged there, her nails occasionally dragging just hard enough to send sparks racing down her spine.

It didn’t take long before Kori was gasping for more, her breathing quickening, soft groans slipping out between her lips. Lydia caught her in a kiss—hot, hungry, their tongues tangling like they’d been starving for this. When she pulled away, she left a trail of kisses down Kori’s neck, across her collarbone, over the swell of her breast, lower to her toned stomach.

By the time Lydia reached for her shorts, she paused to meet Kori’s eyes, silently asking. Kori’s nod came so fast it made Lydia giggle.

She didn’t waste time teasing anymore—Kori was already soaked. Pulling the shorts down, Lydia settled between her muscular thighs, the weight of them against her face feeling like heaven. One hand held Kori’s hip steady, the other laced with hers, while the blonde’s free hand buried in Lydia’s hair. Every time Kori’s pleasure spiked, her legs tightened around her, sending a fresh rush of heat between them both.

Lydia ate her like she was starving, tongue and lips working in unrelenting rhythm.

The wet sounds, the blonde’s groans, her whispered curses—it was all perfect. When Kori finally came, her whole body shuddered, and Lydia rode her through it before climbing back up for another kiss. This one was slower, more intimate, the taste of Kori still on her lips.

Kori didn’t let the pause last long. Her hands stripped Lydia’s black top away, lips brushing the crook of her neck, leaving both kisses and the occasional bite. Her nails grazed Lydia’s skin in teasing lines until the smaller girl shivered beneath her.

The tall girl slid on top of her, tugging Lydia’s sweatpants down in one smooth motion, but leaving the thin layer of underwear in place. She leaned back for a moment, her gaze trailing over her girl, hungry and unguarded. Lydia flushed crimson under the weight of those deep brown eyes, and Kori couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sudden shyness—so rare, so precious.

Then she leaned back in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was all heat and longing, while her hand slipped lower. Her fingers pressed and stroked, slow and deliberate, circling over Lydia’s clit, teasing at her opening but never quite giving in. Lydia moaned into her mouth, the sound trembling between them, and Kori smiled against her lips before breaking away to drag her tongue along the shell of her ear, whispering a hot breath as her hand kept its torturous rhythm.

It was too much. Not enough. Lydia writhed beneath her, nails digging into her back, her voice breaking in desperation: “Kori—just fuck me already.”

The blonde’s smirk curved wickedly as she obliged, slipping past hesitation and giving her everything she asked for.

She slid off Lydia’s soaked underwear, tossed it aside, then shifted onto her knees with a predatory ease. In one swift motion she grabbed Lydia by the thighs and yanked her up like she weighed nothing. The smaller girl yelped, caught off guard, and suddenly found herself tipped almost upside down—her ankles brushing against Kori’s back, her thighs framing the blonde’s face, her spine pressed tight against Kori’s stomach. Only her head and shoulders still touched the mattress. Instinctively, part of her wanted to brace her arms to ease the weight, but Kori held her steady with iron grip and effortless strength, grinning down at her like she’d just pulled off her greatest trick.

And she had. Lydia’s embarrassment only fed into her arousal—heat flooding her at the sheer display of power. She barely had time to process before Kori buried herself between her thighs, latching onto her clit like her life depended on it. The suction, the tongue, the sheer hunger—Lydia was unraveling instantly. Her cries spilled raw and unfiltered, Kori’s name tumbling from her lips like a prayer, tangled with broken curses and desperate moans.

It didn’t last long—the intensity was overwhelming, pushing Lydia over the edge in quick, dizzying waves. Kori rode her through every shudder, slow and steady, until she finally eased her down. She laid her carefully back on the bed, lowering herself close, wrapping around her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Kori pressed soft kisses to her temple, their foreheads brushing together, noses nuzzling, breath mingling as she whispered praise and sweet, loving words against her skin. Her hand stroked Lydia’s hip in soothing circles, grounding her.

Lydia cupped her cheek, thumb grazing lightly along her jaw. Their eyes met, glowing with exhaustion and joy, their smiles breaking through heavy breaths. Kori kissed her then, deep and unhurried, their tongues melting together until Lydia was dizzy all over again. She already knew what Kori wanted even before the blonde pulled back, eyes burning with hunger.

“Can I get the strap?” Kori whispered, her voice low, thick with need.

Lydia’s cheeks flushed deeper at the question, but she didn’t hesitate—her soft “yes” escaped like a plea, her hand tightening on Kori’s cheek as if to anchor herself.

That was all the permission Kori needed. She kissed her once more—slow, reverent—before pulling away and reaching into their bag. Lydia watched her, breath uneven, chest still rising and falling from the last climax. There was something unbearably hot in the way Kori adjusted the harness, her strong hands moving with practiced ease, the gleam in her dark eyes never leaving her girl. Lydia bit her lip, heat coiling in her stomach again just from the sight.

When Kori climbed back onto the bed, towering over her, Lydia felt that same mix of shyness and anticipation flare up. Kori noticed it instantly, chuckling softly as she ran a soothing hand down Lydia’s side, grounding her. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, voice low and rough.

Then she kissed her again—no gentleness this time, but a hungry clash of lips and tongue. Lydia melted into it, her body arching up as Kori pressed closer, the length of the toy dragging teasingly along her soaked folds. The witch whimpered into her mouth, nails scraping down Kori’s back, her entire body aching for her.

Kori started slow, sliding in just enough to make Lydia gasp, holding her steady by the hips, savoring every sound that spilled out of her. But it didn’t stay slow for long. The moment Lydia begged—voice breaking, legs trembling—Kori obliged, pulling out and thrusting deep, her pace quickening with each cry of her name. The bed creaked under the rhythm, her grip tightening, her mouth finding Lydia’s neck, marking her with kisses and bites between ragged breaths.

It was rough, desperate—yet threaded with tenderness. Every time Lydia’s voice hitched, Kori kissed her, whispered something sweet against her lips, reminded her how much she loved her. Every thrust was both a claim and a worship, every groan and moan blending into something feverish and beautiful.

By the time Lydia came again, clinging to her like she’d never let go, Kori held her through it, slowing only when her girl’s body trembled too hard to take more. She stayed pressed against her, kissing her damp cheeks, murmuring praise as Lydia sobbed out her release, overwhelmed with love and need all at once.

And when the waves finally passed, Kori didn’t pull away. She just wrapped herself around her, strap still between them, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because she was.

It didn’t take long before the quiet melted back into heat. Lydia, still trembling from her release, nipped playfully at Kori’s lip, her blue eyes hazy with desire. Kori laughed against her mouth, a low, hungry sound, and kissed her harder, grinding the harness into her until Lydia whimpered all over again.

And that’s how, not much later, Kori had her pinned against the cabin wall—Lydia’s small body lifted effortlessly, her legs locked tight around Kori’s waist, arms hooked desperately around her neck. The witch gasped at the sudden roughness, but her gasp turned into a moan the moment Kori drove into her, the wall shuddering behind them with every thrust.

The pressure was overwhelming—her back pressed hard against the wood, Kori’s grip digging into her thighs, their bodies colliding in an unforgiving rhythm. Each breath from the blonde spilled hot against her throat, broken by kisses and little bites, sending sparks racing through her. Lydia clung tighter, her nails dragging down Kori’s shoulders as if she might lose her if she let go.

Every thrust hit deeper, harder—so deep Lydia swore she could feel her very core being claimed, her voice breaking into helpless cries with every push. The angle had her trembling uncontrollably, her head falling back as Kori kissed and marked the pale column of her neck, whispering her name between ragged breaths.

It was primal, hungry—Kori fucking her like she wanted to fuse them into one body, every snap of her hips slamming Lydia higher against the wall, the wet sound of their joining echoing with the storm outside. Lydia’s legs trembled where they clung around her, the pressure building unbearably fast.

And when Kori’s thrusts found that perfect spot—over and over, relentless, kissing the very core of her—Lydia shattered, coming undone with a scream muffled against Kori’s shoulder. Her whole body shook violently in her arms, yet Kori didn’t falter, holding her steady, still driving into her through every wave until she was left limp, gasping, and utterly wrecked.

Lydia was still gasping, clinging to Kori’s shoulders as the last tremors of her climax wracked through her, when the storm outside suddenly roared louder, rattling the shed. Kori kissed her hard, whispering something low and adoring against her lips—

—and then the door burst wide open.

Cold rain and wind whipped inside, blowing out half the candles and leaving them caught in the flicker of dying light. Suzie stood frozen in the doorway, soaking wet, her wide eyes locking instantly on them before she even registered what she’d stumbled into.

For a split second, no one moved. Then chaos erupted.

All three of them yelled at once—Lydia squeaking in pure panic, Kori cursing under her breath as she scrambled to shield the witch’s bare skin, and Suzie practically shrieking as she slapped both hands over her eyes, spinning half-around in the doorway like she could erase what she’d seen.

The rain hammered harder outside, the only thing louder than their overlapping voices.

“I'm so sorry!” Suzie yelped.

“Suzie, get out!” Kori barked.

“Oh, Suzie, what happened to your hair?” Lydia blurted, blinking at the redhead.

Kori followed her gaze and frowned.

“I messed up! I don’t know how to fix it—but now I need to bleach my eyes! Let’s all pretend this never happened!” The redhead slammed the door before either could respond.

Lydia glanced at Kori. “I think we should check on her.”

“Right now?!” Kori raised a brow. “I doubt she wants to see us anytime soon.”

“Between facing us and facing a mirror, I think we’re the lesser evil,” Lydia chuckled.

Kori kissed her softly. “You’re taking this way better than I expected. How do you feel?”

“It could be worse,” Lydia laughed. “But we’re getting a lock. I am not doing that again.”

“You better not lock me out, babe.”

“It’s easier to lock you in, my love.”

They both laughed, breathless and raw, their foreheads pressed together for a moment before finally peeling themselves apart. The room smelled like rain, candle wax, and the heat of them tangled.

Kori carefully lowered Lydia back onto the bed, brushing damp strands of black hair from her flushed face. “Stay put,” she murmured, kissing her cheek before slipping away to grab a small towel from her pack. Lydia watched her, still glowing pink, her chest rising and falling as though she’d just run miles.

The tall girl returned to wipe her down gently, slow and deliberate, as if she were something fragile and priceless. Lydia hummed at the soft strokes, her eyes half-lidded. “You’re spoiling me,” she whispered.

“Good,” Kori replied simply, planting a kiss on her knee before tossing the towel aside and reaching for the flask of water by their things. She held it out, but when Lydia reached, the blonde shook her head and tipped it herself, letting the witch drink slow gulps while she steadied her chin with her thumb.

Once she’d had her fill, Kori set it aside and rummaged in their bag for the small stash of chocolate pieces and nuts. She tore open a little pouch, feeding Lydia a piece before taking one for herself, smirking at the happy little hum that followed.

“I feel like a princess being hand-fed.” Lydia mumbled, cheeks puffed with chocolate.

“You are,” Kori said without hesitation, making her blush all over again.

The blonde giggled, kissing the corner of her mouth in response.

After a few minutes of quiet nibbling and hydrating, the storm outside finally softened, the heavy drumming on the shed roof fading to a gentler patter. Lydia leaned into Kori’s side, both of them wrapped in a blanket now, their fingers laced and stomachs a little more settled. With some cuddles and soft kisses, it was time they tapped back in reality.

“Ready?” Kori asked softly.

“No,” Lydia groaned, dragging the blanket up to her chin. “But… she needs us.”

Kori stroked her cheek with her thumb. “Then we’ll go to her.”

Half an hour later, Kori and Lydia arrived prepared like they were storming a battlefield. Kori had her comically oversized, jewel-encrusted tumbler in one hand and Lydia’s much smaller one in the other. Lydia, on the other hand, was armed with a tote bag bursting with everything she thought might be useful in the crisis.

Kori didn’t even bother knocking—she threw the door open like a knight charging in to save the day.

Suzie stared at them like they were two deranged intruders. Her expression was equal parts disdain, disgust, and utter misery.

“You look even worse than before,” Kori announced bluntly. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Are you talking about the attempted bangs or the brush stuck in my hair?” Suzie deadpanned, staring at herself in the mirror.

“All of it,” Lydia sighed, setting the bag down on the bed. “We’re here to help.”

Kori snorted. “You look like you escaped an asylum.”

“Kori.” Lydia gave her a warning look.

“I’m trying!” Kori insisted, grinning. “Trying.”

Lydia stepped behind Suzie, studying the wreck in the mirror, her fingers carefully untangling knots. “Okay, walk me through your thought process here.”

“Lana came by the dorm to get her stuff. Jewels’ stuff too. She didn’t say Jewels was staying there because of me, but—like—it’s obvious, right?” Suzie rambled. Lydia hummed sympathetically.

“And that led you to… war crimes against your hair?” Kori asked from her seat on the bed.

Lydia whipped her head around and mouthed at her: Be a sister, babe. Then turned back to Suzie. “And your hair…?” she prompted gently.

“I just needed a change. Something different. Clear my head.” Suzie winced as Lydia finally wrestled the brush free. “Ow, Lyds.”

“I think change is good,” Lydia said, assessing the uneven bangs and jagged ends, “but maybe don’t go at it with paper scissors and zero plan.”

The small witch took a long moment to assess the disaster in front of her. Suzie had clearly started with bangs—jagged, uneven, and defying all laws of symmetry. Then she’d taken scissors to the length, hacking at her shoulder-length curls until only one side survived, the rest hanging at random points along her neck, the shortest stopping just under her chin. When the panic set in, Suzie had tried to brush it all out for a “clean base,” which only resulted in the brush getting wedged hopelessly in her hair. That was the story she managed to gather, at least. We are politely skipping over the part where Suzie walked in on her and Kori mid-tryst, because by the time she actually looked up, all she saw were the chaotic bangs and uneven cuts staring back at her.

“I’ve got a plan,” Lydia said at last. “Do you trust me?”

“Pretty sure you can’t make me look worse, diva.” Suzie smirked.

“Do you even know how to do hair?” Kori asked, quite curious.

“I can do mine,” Lydia shrugged. “And I have actual scissors.” She held them up like a weapon. “How about we change the color a bit?”

“Sure, why not?” Suzie said. “As long as it looks decent for the ball”

“Ball?” Lydia tilts her head, a little confused.

“Oh my god, you don’t know?” Kori perked up.

“The guild’s annual ball is in two weeks,” Suzie explained.

“I didn’t even realize we had a ball,” Lydia muttered. “What’s the dress code? Why has no one told me this before?”

“Because everyone assumed you knew,” Kori chuckled.

“I'm pretty sure everyone is already starting to get ready for it,” Suzie added.

The witch sighed. “We’ll deal with that later,” Lydia decided,her focus snapping back to Suzie. “Right now, we’re going to make you look hot for the ball, Boots.”

“Oh, it’s a makeover now?” Kori grinned, sliding up behind Lydia, wrapping her arms around her waist, and pressing a kiss to her neck. Lydia melted into the touch, cheeks warming up with a sweet smile.

“This is not the kind of scissoring you should be doing right now,” Kori murmured.

Lydia snorted, swatting at her.

Suzie gagged audibly. “I’ve seen more than enough of you two today. Literally.”

Kori wheezed with laughter. Lydia buried her face in her hand, laughing as well.

“Kori, my love, can you do her nails?” Lydia asked sweetly, handing over the polish kit.

“Sure,” Kori grinned, kissing her quickly before sitting back down. “Suzie, I’m giving you full cunty lesbian nails.”

“As long as they’re not French tips, bitch.” Suzie shot back with a laugh.

Lydia told Suzie to dampen her hair before she started cutting, trying to salvage what she could from the crime scene in front of her. Options were limited, but once she worked through the chaos, the shorter style actually suited Suzie—it gave her this grungy, edgy vibe that somehow still managed to look soft and intentional. Plus, it was low-maintenance, which was good, since Jewels definitely wasn’t going to be doing her hair anymore.

Once satisfied with the cut, Lydia slipped on her round glasses and got to work with the dye, carefully coating every strand until Suzie’s whole head was covered. Meanwhile, Kori was too busy perfecting Suzie’s nails to notice the progress—at least until Lydia leaned over to kiss her head, then her cheek, and finally her lips, lingering a little. The blonde couldn’t help but smile back at her girl.

But when Kori glanced up—and absolutely lost it.

“Oh, this is too good!” her head back of how hard she was laughing, “you look like a used tampon!” she howled, pointing at Suzie’s dye-smeared head.

“More like a baby chick fresh out the egg,” Lydia couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ronald McDonald has nothing on you, Boots!” the blonde girl cackled, wiping tears.

“It won’t look like this once we rinse,” the black haired girl reassured, though she was laughing too.

“Kori, then you better shut that mouth unless you’re ready to put out everything you’ve got cooking before the final result. You can’t say a damn thing about Lydia’s work, can you, diva?” Suzie smirked.

You’d think that might gag Kori, but no—if there was even a sliver of an opening to clock Suzie, she was diving in headfirst.

“Alright, bet.” Kori grinned wickedly. “Off off community college production of orphan Annie. Cracked out Wendy’s mascot after quitting her job. Rugrats Chuckie Finster if his mother left twice.The uglier Wild Thornberry sister—but her teeth still win ‘cause at least she wore braces. Pennywise, still stuck in the sewers ‘cause the lighting makes your makeup look worse. Strawberry Shortcake—but the sad reboot with zero friends… want me to keep going, or you tapped out already?”

“Bitch, you're insufferable,” Suzie rolled her eyes, cracking up, they all are.

Silence settles again. Kori is still hunched over, carefully finishing Suzie’s nails while Lydia lounges against her shoulder, stealing little glances at her. When Kori’s finally done, she pats Suzie’s hand away without ceremony and immediately pulls Lydia closer, tugging her onto her lap like she’s been waiting all day for this. She kisses her deep, like it’s been forever, Lydia smiling against her lips.

Lydia cups Kori’s cheek, her thumb brushing gently as she starts peppering her with soft little kisses. Kori can’t help but giggle between them, then tilts back in for another—longer, slower, sweeter. Lydia hums softly into it, their bubble growing warmer, tighter, like no one else exists.

Until Suzie groans loud enough to cut through it.

“You two better not have a kid, I swear,” she mutters, face twisted like she’s watching a crime scene.

Kori bursts into laughter, nearly dropping Lydia off her lap. Lydia only grins, still cuddled in close, and coos, “Oh, sweet sweet Suzie… you do know we can’t just make a baby, right?” She tries to sound serious, but the giggles ruin it.

“When there’s Kori, there’s a way,” Suzie deadpanned.

That was it—Kori was wheezing.

“Bitch, if that were true, we’d already be in serious trouble,” Kori smirked, eyes flicking to Lydia. “Not that it sounds all that bad…”

“Oh, hell no! You two would spawn the most deranged child alive,” Suzie cackled.

“I mean… nooo,” Lydia hummed, soft and thoughtful, sneaking a sideways glance at her girl. “But maybe in another ten… twenty years.”

“You’d look really cute pregnant, babe.” Kori’s voice dropped, dreamy and completely serious.

Lydia giggled, cheeks flushing. “You think so, huh?”

“Our kids would be adorable. Don’t you think?” Kori pushed, eyes locked on hers.

Lydia tilted her head, teasing. “Do you think they’d grow up as hot and charming as you are? Because then I’d be in trouble.”

“Well…” Kori leaned closer, grin lazy and wicked, “if they got your eyes and your smile, they’d be unstoppable.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “Why don’t we figure out how to make it work, huh, babe?” She tugged Lydia in, gently catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

Lydia closed the gap in an instant, kissing her with new, hungry urgency. Their mouths moved together, tongues slow and deliberate, like they had all the time in the world. Kori’s hand slid to the back of Lydia’s neck, fingers tangling deep in her black hair, drawing out little shivers. Lydia’s hand stayed on Kori’s cheek, her other braced on the blonde’s shoulder like it was the only thing grounding her.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, their foreheads rested together, eyes glittering like the starry sky outside. It was clear neither of them had any plans of stopping—

—until Suzie’s exaggerated gagging noises cut through the haze.

Kori glanced at Lydia, then at Suzie. “Suzie, we’re leaving.”

“Babe, I still need to show her how to actually style her hair,” Lydia protested halfheartedly.

“Please,” Suzie groaned, looking genuinely pained, “just go. Or I’ll drown myself in bleach.”

“We’ll check on you tomorrow,” Lydia promised sweetly as Kori stood and effortlessly scooped her into her arms. “Oh, and rinse your hair with cold water before bed.”

Neither of them spared a second look at Suzie. Kori only had eyes for Lydia as she carried her out, grinning like a thief who’d gotten away with everything.

“I think I just unlocked something for you two,” Suzie muttered to herself, staring at the mess of dye in her hair in the mirror. “And I deeply regret it.”

Needless to say, the fuck shed was put to use in a very great manner in that rainy night.

Chapter Text

Whenever Onya called Kori in, she already knew what was coming — some boring, tedious job she’d never volunteer for in a million years. And this time? No different.

The guild master didn’t even have to open her mouth before the blonde was already giving her the “be quick, bitch” face. It was an expression Onya would never tolerate from anyone else, but Kori? She let her get away with it.

Their friendship was a two-way street, after all. Onya trusted Kori to handle the annoying yet important tasks nobody wanted because she knew she’d get it done right. In return, the least she could do was put up with a little attitude when Kori had no choice but to accept the job.

This time, the task was simple enough: Kori had to head over to a filial guild to get some paperwork signed and discuss minor details for upcoming events and projects the guild was hosting. Straightforward, right? But experience said otherwise — these things had a way of dragging out, mostly thanks to ridiculously avoidable issues.

It was supposed to be a quick day trip: hop on a train, an hour to the next city, sign the documents, talk through the details, and head back. If she wanted to be efficient, Kori could leave after breakfast and be back by lunch. No big deal. But boring? Absolutely.

The catch was that two representatives from each guild needed to be present for the signatures to be valid. Normally, Suzie would’ve been Kori’s partner for this kind of bureaucratic nonsense — she loved it, actually. Sitting in on negotiations and stamping papers gave her the perfect excuse to feel self-important, and it stroked her ego just right. But given the current situation, Suzie was not the best choice for this particular job. Out of the question. Kori didn’t even bring it up to her.

Instead, a far more appealing idea sparked in her mind: take Lydia along and turn the whole thing into a day together.

Since becoming a couple (and let’s be honest, even before that), they’d spent nearly all their time together. They loved and thrived in each other's company — but they’d never actually planned a proper date. That needed to change. Sure, Kori adored the spontaneous moments, just going with the flow and making the most of wherever the day took them, but there was something exciting about taking the time to intentionally be together. A little change of pace. And this short trip? The perfect opportunity.

After checking to make sure Lydia was free, Kori casually let her know they’d be spending the day together and to be ready by 10 a.m. The big grin on her face said it all — she was definitely plotting something up.

Getting ready before midday was never Lydia’s strong suit, especially considering her nightly habit of crawling into bed only a few hours before sunrise. The small witch wished she had even half the energy her girlfriend had — or Kori’s absurd ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, and somehow wake up feeling rested.

Little did Lydia know, Kori wasn’t exactly well-rested either; she’d been losing sleep quietly, working behind the scenes to make sure their (very belated) first proper date went perfectly.

When the big day finally rolled around — a seemingly ordinary Wednesday for Lydia — Kori didn’t linger in bed the way she usually did. Instead, she slipped out of the covers, leaned in to press a slow, soft kiss against Lydia’s lips, and whispered a warm good morning before heading off to her own quarters to get ready.

It was a little out of character. Normally, mornings together meant lazy cuddles, gentle touches, and an endless stream of kisses before actually starting the day. Lydia noticed the change, missed it even, but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

The tall blonde may have dropped the hint that she should wear something she felt cute in and that she would be comfortable wearing all day. Somehow, Lydia didn't connect the dots on what that could mean — even though, if Kori wanted to make it any more obvious, she literally would have it to spell it out for her.

This was Lydia’s first time visiting another guild, so making a good impression seemed like a safe bet anyway. After a little indecisive pacing and way too many outfit swaps, she settled on her look: a soft, grunge-inspired white dress with flowy, off-the-shoulder sleeves, paired with a black corset and chain belt. Mary Jane shoes, white socks, black stockings and carefully layered silver accessories tied it all together.

She styled her black hair into soft waves, adding just enough volume at the bangs to frame her face perfectly. Her makeup was sharp but balanced: bold winged eyeliner, a sweep of blush to warm her pale complexion, lined lips softly blended into a muted nude center, finalizing it with glittery eyeshadow to give a glowing effect.

Standing in front of the mirror, Lydia hesitated. Maybe she’d overdone it for something so casual — especially considering they were technically just running an errand. But when the shed’s door opened and she saw Kori’s reaction? Any doubt melted away instantly.

The blonde’s eyes lit up the moment she laid her eyes on her. Without hesitation, she slipped her arms around Lydia’s waist from behind, lacing them securely before placing a few lingering kisses on her exposed shoulder. Resting her chin there, she met Lydia’s gaze in the mirror, her expression warm and unguarded.

Completely taken by her.

Lydia giggled softly and leaned into the embrace, letting herself melt into Kori’s touch.

Kori was quite dressed up herself: a denim two-piece set — fitted long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up just right, and a pleated skirt. A leopard print undershirt peeked through, and her signature Venus necklace was layered with a dainty point-of-light chain that she has grown to love just as much. Chunky black heels and subtle earrings completed the look. Her golden hair was blown out to perfection, and her makeup was beautiful, though slightly more natural, still featured sharp contour, warm blush and shiny highlight, brown smoky cut-crease with gold shimmer, and glossy, reddish-brown lips that caught the light whenever she smiled.

Lydia couldn’t stop staring — and Kori loved the attention.

Keeping their hands off each other all day would be… challenging. But smudging their makeup before they’d even left the house?

Definitely not an option.

-`♡´- ✴︎˚｡⋆˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚₊⊹

Once they made it to the other guild, someone directed them to a waiting room, promising that someone would be with them soon. Kori had been here plenty of times before — always against her will — but this was Lydia’s first visit, so naturally, the witch’s eyes wandered, trying to take everything in.

Even though the guilds belonged to the same branch, the buildings couldn’t have been more different. Theirs felt homey and welcoming, but this place? This place looked like an acid trip brought to life. Not necessarily a bad thing, just… a lot.

When Lydia raised an eyebrow and whispered about it, Kori just shrugged.
“Their guild master’s… eccentric,” she said casually. “Guild designs usually match whoever’s in charge. Ours is cozy because Onya’s all about comfort and community. This one?” She gestured vaguely around them. “This one belongs to a yellow-obsessed maniac.”

And she wasn’t exaggerating. The wallpaper, the furniture, the accents, the decorations — everything was yellow, just in different shades. Somehow, against all odds, it managed to look intentional… but no sane person should have that level of commitment to a single color.

The couple settled on a couch that looked far prettier than it was comfortable. Kori slouched with practiced ease, legs spread like she owned the place, her arm draped lazily along the backrest. Her hand rested on Lydia’s hip while the smaller girl leaned into her shoulder, head tucked beneath Kori’s chin. Lydia idly played with the necklaces at her chest while Kori’s face rested gently against hers, the two quietly melting into each other as time passed.

Eventually, they were called to the meeting room, and they walked in hand-in-hand. The moment the door opened, Kori’s relaxed smile turned into a sharp smirk.

“Didn’t know I booked an appointment with a clown,” she said flatly.

“If I’m a clown, I wonder what you are, sister,” the woman across the table replied, her monotone making it impossible to tell if she was joking or dead serious.

Lydia blinked and looked up at Kori, silently asking, ‘Sister?’

Kori’s response was immediate, biting and smooth:
“I sure can tell you ain’t missing no meals.”

“You’re despicable, sister,” the other woman hissed, though a twisted grin spread across her face. “I’ve never been anything but kind to you, dear Kori,” she added, letting out a low giggle.

“Oh, please. If anything, you’ve always made me look like the nice one in comparison,” Kori cackled. “For that, I thank you.”

Finally, the woman’s gaze drifted to Lydia — sharp, appraising, and deliberately unkind. “And who might you be?” she asked, leaning back in her chair. “Kori’s new little plaything? Cute.” Her tone was light, but her eyes swept over Lydia from head to toe without an ounce of subtlety. “I don’t see you lasting long.”

Kori laughed, low and dangerous, the sound bubbling into something sharp.
“You’re horrible, bitch,” she said, though her grin didn’t waver. Then, suddenly, her voice dropped an octave, steady and cold. “Don’t you dare mess with her. I will obliterate your existence before you even get the chance.”

Plane tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Ohhh, so we’re making threats now, Kori King?” Her mocking lilt was thick, but Kori didn’t flinch. After a pause, she sighed dramatically and gave up the act.
“Fine, fine, relax. But seriously — where’s the redhead? The trusty little donkey sidekick you always drag along to these?"

“Lydia B. Kollins. Suzie couldn’t make it,” the witch said kindly, despite the fact that, ever since stepping into this room, all she’d heard were insults flying back and forth like arrows.

Plane leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with deliberate grace. “Ah… you’re new, right?” she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I’d definitely remember if I’d seen Kori’s cheap little replacement of me before, huh?”

Sure, they both had thick black hair, pale skin, and clear, striking eyes — but that’s where the similarities ended.

Kori barked out a sharp laugh, throwing her head back. “Bitch, in what universe do you think you could compare yourself to Lydia?” she said, grinning wide. “You’re not even in the same league, same patamar, same world as my girl!”

Plane’s smirk faltered just a little, but Kori wasn’t done. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table with all the lazy confidence in the world.
“And even as you age, you’re still as delusional as ever… my nasty elder sister.”

Lydia just stared between them, completely lost, trying to figure out if she had somehow walked into the middle of a long-running feud or an improvised comedy show.

“Plane Jane. Nice to make your acquaintance,” she says after a moment, getting her jaw off the floor after Kori's loving read. “You must have heard a lot about me. I'm sure only nice things!” She said, going back to acting coy.

Lydia slowly shook her head, lips parting in a small, awkward smile.

“Nope,” she said simply.

Kori chuckled low, leaning back in her chair, her arm slung lazily over Lydia’s shoulder. “There’s nothing good anyone could possibly say about you,” she said, laughing outright at the end.

“And what’s your deal, Kollins?” Jane finally asks, completely ignoring Kori’s last jab.

“I’m a witch,” Lydia answers simply. “Water and wind magic… potions.”

“A damn good one, from the coven,” the blonde added.

Jane perks up a little, leaning forward with a spark of genuine curiosity for the first time since they walked in. “Ohhh, so you make potions? Think you could whip one up to keep me looking this beautiful forever?”

Lydia doesn’t even blink. “…I don’t do miracles. Sorry.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Kori loses it, throwing her head back with a sharp, uncontrollable laugh.

Plane’s forced smile falters, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. Lydia’s deadpan clearly landed harder than she wanted to admit. She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a huff, pretending the jab didn’t sting — but her tone changes.

“Fine,” she says, a bit sharper than before. “Miracles aside, your potions… they could be useful for our guild. Potions aren’t exactly easy to come by, you know?! If you’re as good as Kori claims—” she side-eyes her sister “—we could use a few batches.”

Lydia blinks, surprised by the sudden shift, but answers evenly. “That’s not a problem. If your guild needs potions, I can make them.”

Before Plane can respond, Kori’s voice cuts in, low and lazy but edged with warning. “Yeah, no. If you want Lydia’s work, you go through the proper channels. Request, approval, payment — all official. You don’t get to skip the line just because you’re my delightful sister.”

Plane clicks her tongue, visibly annoyed but choosing not to argue — mostly because she knows Kori won’t budge. The tension in the room lingers for a beat longer, but before it can escalate, the door creaks open.

An average sized woman with cascading yellow hair, yellow set of sweats and chaotic neutral aura steps in — Nymphia Wind, the guild master. Her gaze sweeps over the room, not that much interested in whatever was going on there .

“Alright,” Nymphia says, calm but commanding. “Let’s get this shit started.”

And they do. The entire discussion takes less than twenty minutes — quick signatures, a few spoken agreements, and whatever reason they’d been called here is wrapped up neatly.

The moment they’re dismissed, Kori grabs Lydia’s hand without hesitation, already steering her toward the exit.

“Finally,” she mutters under her breath, stretching her shoulders like she’d just survived a battlefield. “I have way better things to do than sit here breathing the same air as Plane.”

Lydia just hides a small smile, letting Kori lead the way out.

First stop: lunch.

The bistro had a cozy charm to it — an open space filled by natural lighting, soft music, quiet chatter, and faint aroma of fresh herbs drifting from the kitchen. Kori had made reservations, of course, so they didn’t have to wait. Perfect timing, as always.

They were led to a table by the window, the midday autumn sun brightening the room as the city buzzed quietly outside. At first, they sat across from each other, menus in hand, but it didn’t take long for Lydia to pout slightly, her blue eyes drifting to the empty seat beside her.

“This feels… weird,” she muttered, almost to herself.

Kori glanced up. “Weird how?”

“It feels way too formal.”

Kori smirked. “Oh, we can’t have that.” Without hesitation, she scooted around the table and slid into the seat next to her. “Better, babe?”

Lydia’s lips curved into a sweet smile, already leaning into her. “Much.”

Their legs brushed beneath the table, and Kori’s hand settled casually on Lydia’s knee, tracing small circles as they scanned the menu together. When the food arrived — two different pasta dishes — they wasted no time stealing bites from each other’s plates.

“…Yours is better,” Lydia admitted after her first forkful of Kori’s choice.

Kori grinned, pointing her fork back at Lydia’s. “Yours is better.”

They stared at each other for half a beat before bursting into soft laughter and swapping plates without a word. By the time they finished, they were comfortably pressed together, shoulders touching, the kind of quiet intimacy that didn’t need filling.

When the plates were cleared, Kori reached into her bag and placed a small box on the table, sliding it toward Lydia.

Lydia blinked, looking from the package to Kori. “What’s this?”

“Just open it.”

Her brows furrowed as she hesitated, fingers brushing the wrapping. “Why am I getting a present? It’s not my birthday… I didn’t get you anything.”

Kori tilted her head, her tone teasing but soft. “Didn’t you, though?” She reached out, her fingertips grazing the delicate chain rating at her neck — the little point of light she wore every day. “You gave me this. Remember?”

Lydia’s expression softened instantly as her hand rose to touch the necklace. “Of course I remember.”

“Do you remember why?” Kori asked quietly.

A small, warm smile pulled at Lydia’s lips. “Because you catch light wherever you go. No matter the room, no matter the crowd, you’re always the first thing I see.”

Kori’s smirk softened into something warmer. “Exactly. And ever since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what could even come close to that.”

Lydia laughed softly, her cheeks tinged pink. “Kori, you really didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Yeah, I know.” The blonde’s voice lowered, gentle and steady. “I wanted to.”

With that, she nodded at the little package. “Go on. Open it.”

Lydia hesitated only a second longer before finally unwrapping the box. Inside rested a delicate silver locket, vintage and oval-shaped, its edges engraved with tiny swirling details that caught the light when she tilted it.

She inhaled sharply, her thumb brushing over the smooth surface like it might disappear if
she blinked. “Kori…”

Kori leaned closer, her shoulder pressing against Lydia’s. “It’s a locket. A little place to keep what you love close to your heart.” Her hand came up, softly tucking a stray strand of black hair behind Lydia’s ear. “Which is where I belong anyway.”

Lydia’s throat tightened, tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them.

“Hey…” Kori murmured, her thumb brushing the first tear away before it fell. “Don’t cry, Lyds.”

The small girl let out a breathy laugh, trying to blink them back. “Babe… you can’t just drop something like this on me and expect me to—”

“Oh, you’ll thank me later,” Kori interrupted, smirking faintly, though her touch remained feather-light. “Besides, we still need to take pictures for it.”

Lydia blinked, surprised. “…Pictures?”

“Well yes!” Kori nodded toward the street outside. “There’s a photo booth just down the block.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes. “That’s… quite convenient.”

Kori’s expression didn’t waver, her smirk betraying just a little too much. “Guess we’re lucky.”

Lydia shook her head, laughing softly. “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Kori said, leaning in, her lips brushing Lydia’s temple. “But I’m not admitting to anything.”

Lydia giggled, rolling her eyes — and then Kori kissed her, soft and deliberate, careful not to smudge lipstick or disturb the moment. It was sweet, brief, and perfect.

When they finally pulled apart, Kori stood, holding out her hand.

“Let’s go make something to put inside that locket, my love,” she said, her voice low and sure.

And just like that, hand in hand, they stepped out of the bistro into the autumn breeze — the next stop waiting, exactly as Kori had planned, though Lydia didn’t need to know all the details.

The little photo booth stood tucked beneath a canopy of hanging vines, squeezed between a tiny bakery and a second-hand bookstore. It looked charmingly out of place, like a secret only locals knew about. The glass roof above was littered with a few fallen leaves, and the sunlight filtering through them painted the booth in soft shades of gold and amber.

The space was fairly small, forcing them to sit shoulder to shoulder on the narrow bench, their knees brushing. Kori reached across to tap the screen, starting the countdown.

“Ready?” she asked, glancing sideways.

Lydia checked her bangs to make sure it was still looking good, trying not to sound so excited. “I guess.”

The timer blinked. Three… two… one — click.
The first photo caught them sitting close but not tangled, both smiling softly at the camera. Lydia’s smile was shy, delicate; Kori’s was calm but confident, the faintest hint of pride in her expression, like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Kori peeked at the small screen showing the preview, her grin widening. “Cute. But we can do better.”

Before Lydia could ask what she meant, Kori hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her up to her lap, leaving no space between them.

Three… two… one — click.
The second photo captured Lydia mid-laugh, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, her cheeks flushed pink. Kori wasn’t even looking at the camera this time — she was looking at Lydia, a little mischievous spark in her eyes and big smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” Lydia said softly, though she didn’t pull away.

“Hot,” Kori corrected, tucking a loose strand of her own hair behind her ear before pressing the button again.

The timer started again. This time, neither of them moved away. Lydia’s breath caught when Kori’s hand slid up to rest gently at her jaw, guiding her closer, giving her the smallest chance to back away if she wanted. She didn’t.

Three… two… one — click.
The third photo captured their kiss — soft, unhurried, tender. Lydia’s hand rested lightly on Kori’s chest, while Kori leaned in just enough to keep it gentle.

They broke apart just barely, still leaning into each other, the world beyond the curtain fading into silence.

Kori didn’t press the button this time; she just let the next timer run on its own. Lydia tilted her head slightly, meeting Kori’s gaze, her smile blooming slow and warm like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Three… two… one — click.
The fourth photo caught them looking only at each other, their smiles wide and unguarded, the kind of expression no staged picture could fake.

When the strip slid out, Kori grabbed it first, holding it up between them. Her grin softened as she took in the progression — from shy smiles to quiet closeness to that perfect, natural moment at the end.

“This one,” Kori said, tapping the last picture gently. “This is going in your locket.”

Lydia laughed under her breath, leaning into her shoulder. “Good thing it’s big enough for both of us.”

Kori slipped the photo carefully into her bag, like it was the most precious thing she owned. Outside, the wind rustled through the autumn leaves, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had slowed down just for them. And yet, there was even more to come.

Next stop: the temple.

Kori wasn’t one for faith or religion. Neither was Lydia — she was a witch, for crying out loud. But the Golden Shrine was one of the city’s most famous tourist spots, a place people visited to find peace, reflect, or just take in the scenery regardless of their beliefs. Today, the couple was here for the same reason.

The shrine itself was ancient, beautifully preserved, and known for its timeless elegance and lush, diverse gardens. But first… there was the challenge: a thousand stone steps carved into the mountainside, said to “prove your faith and dedication” before entering the sacred grounds.

Kori couldn’t care less about proving anything — but she did know the view from the top was breathtaking, and she wanted Lydia to see it.

Lydia, on the other hand, was… less enthused. One glance upward at the endless stairs and her shoulders slumped. She’d dressed carefully for their outing — hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless, outfit on point. By the time she’d climb all that, she’d look like a sweaty mess, and she wasn’t thrilled about it.

Luckily, she had an amazing girlfriend. One who was jacked. One who had fully anticipated this reaction.

“Get on my back,” Kori said simply, crouching down.

Lydia hesitated, cheeks slightly pink. “Babe, it's okay. I can walk.”

“You could,” Kori grinned, “but you’re not going to.”

And just like that, the witch climbed on, muttering something about taking over if Kori got tired. Spoiler: she didn’t. Kori powered through the entire climb like Lydia weighed less than a backpack, and if anything, she was enjoying herself. Lydia, meanwhile, felt slightly guilty… but the smug smile on her girlfriend’s face told her Kori was having the time of her life.

At the top, the view stretched endlessly in every direction — the city, the forests, and a horizon kissed by sunlight. Kori showed Lydia around, pointing out the sights. The small witch was captivated, and seeing her that happy made every step worth it.

They followed the traditional route, stopping to make an offering — a small gesture of respect to those who protected these lands. Kori joked under her breath about needing divine patience to deal with Plane, which, honestly, sounded like the kind of trial the shrine should reward.

Afterward, they wandered along the rock paths, passing intricately carved sculptures, stunning architecture, delicate paintings, and carefully tended plants rarely seen in this region. The whole place radiated harmony and quiet reverence.

But Lydia’s attention locked onto something else entirely: the cats.

Dozens of them lived around the shrine, weaving lazily between sculptures, sprawled in sunbeams, or perched proudly on ledges like little guardians. Lydia stopped to sweet-talk every single one she found, crouching down to pet soft fur and scratch little chins.

Kori hadn’t even realized there were animals here, but the cats certainly realized Lydia was here. They ignored everyone else — even Kori — and flocked straight to the small witch like she was walking catnip. Some meowed softly, some stretched belly-up in the sun, and others circled her ankles, purring loud enough to rumble. Lydia was in heaven.

The blonde, meanwhile, was perfectly content watching her girlfriend make an entire feline fan club. It took forever to move past all the cats — partially because Lydia couldn’t bring herself to leave them, partially because the cats didn’t want her to — but eventually, they made it to the final stop.

The reason Kori had wanted to come here in the first place: the wishing tree.

A towering oak, so massive you couldn’t even see the top, its ancient roots embedded deep in the mountain. Locals said it had stood there since before the shrine was ever built — over two centuries at least. Its sprawling branches were lush and full, despite its age, and younger trees surrounded it like children clinging to their elder.

It was said the tree still produced acorns, though it should’ve stopped decades ago. Some even whispered that if someone claimed the tree could speak, people wouldn’t question it.

Kori explained the ritual: pick up a small piece of paper provided, write down your wish, and tie it to the ropes around the base of the trunk.

As they began, Kori found herself remembering the last time she was here — over a year ago, during the end of winter, with her friends.

It had been sunny but cold, the wind sharp at this altitude. The quest they’d finished nearby had led them into the city, and since Lana was still fairly new to the group, they’d used the outing as an excuse to “show her around.” Truthfully, there hadn’t been much else to do.

Kori had known the area better than the others, though not by much. Mostly, she’d spent her time at the guild or the pub, neither of which she cared to revisit. So when someone suggested the shrine, she was quick to agree.

The climb up hadn’t been too bad for her, but Jewels and Lana? Miserable. Constant complaining. By the time they reached the top, they’d thrown their sweaters back on and swore vengeance against mountain stairs forever.

Still, they’d gone through the motions — offerings, sightseeing — until they reached the wishing tree. That was the only part Lana and Jewels had actually cared about.

Kori still remembered sneaking glances at everyone’s wishes before tying them up.

Suzie’s: “Strength to stay motivated and good missions ahead.” Kori rolled her eyes back then and called her an idiot.
Lana’s: “A giant bag of red licorice.” She’d taken the whole thing way too lightly.
Jewels’: “For Suzie’s happiness… and to be there when it happens.” Kori had snorted, thinking it would’ve been easier to just wish they’d get together already.

And then there was her own wish. Back then, it hadn’t been easy to decide — Kori believed in working for what she wanted, not wishing for it. But there was one thing she couldn’t control, no matter how strong or determined she was:

“I want someone to love and hold dear.”

She’d written it secretly, away from the others, and then forgotten about it.

Until now.

Because… her wish had come true. She found Lydia. She fell in love. And standing here beside her, Kori realized she was about to ask for another wish.

And that thought spiraled.

What if you only got one? What if asking for more ruined the balance? What if getting what she had meant giving it up to get something else? Did she have to sacrifice Lydia to earn something else?

Then the spiral shifted, fast.

Sacrifice Lydia? Absolutely not.

Who dares try to take her away from me? No chance. I’ll fight gods, demons, witches, fate itself if I have to. She’s mine. She’s perfect. We’re endgame.

And that’s when it clicked.

She didn’t need another wish. She needed this one.

“I wish for the chance to spend the rest of my life by Lydia’s side — to make her happy, to keep her safe, to hold her close, and to love her no matter what.”

She decided to leave the angry, threatening part in her head. No reason to upset whoever had helped her before.

When she looked up, Lydia was still focused on her own paper, completely unaware of the emotional storm Kori had just survived. The witch glanced up for only a second, gave Kori the softest smile, and then went back to writing.

Kori’s chest tightened. She knew, without a shred of doubt, that even if the entire world turned against them, she’d burn it down just to protect that smile.

Finally, Lydia finished, satisfied with her words. She tied her paper carefully to the rope and read it quietly:

“Like the sun and the moon, like the turning of the seasons, my wish is to experience every part of Kori’s life alongside her. I wish for our love to grow into a vast garden, nurtured with care, work, and time, until it becomes its own forest.”

Kori didn’t say anything — she just reached for her hand and squeezed three times.

The couple was just about to leave, Kori already knowing exactly where she wanted to take Lydia next. But then, a soft voice called out behind them.

They turned to find an older, tall woman approaching — elegant and composed, wrapped in a flowing golden kaftan that shimmered under the light. Her long gray hair was streaked with touches of deep black, and though she walked without rush, there was something graceful and deliberate in each step.

“Did you two enjoy your time here?” she asked, her voice deep, smooth, and oddly comforting.

The girls exchanged a quick glance before nodding, unsure where this was leading.

“Aren’t you a cute one,” the woman said, her attention settling directly on Lydia. “A little witch, I assume?” There was an amused lilt in her tone, but the way she looked at Lydia felt… deeper, almost like she was seeing through her entirely.

Kori’s arm instinctively wrapped around her girlfriend’s waist, pulling her closer. Her body tensed, ready for anything, her gaze narrowing on the stranger.

The woman chuckled softly, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry — that must’ve sounded strange, didn’t it?” She gave a warm, practiced smile. “I’m Raja. I help take care of this place.”

Kori loosened up — a little — but kept her hold on Lydia anyway.

“You’re probably wondering how I knew,” Raja continued, tilting her head knowingly. The couple froze, caught between curiosity and caution, as if she really could read their thoughts. “No, I’m not a mind reader,” she said, almost teasing. “I see auras.”

That didn’t make them feel any less weirded out, but they listened anyway.

“Everyone is born with an aura,” she explained, her voice steady, warm, like a teacher unraveling a secret. “Very few people can see them, but when you can… witches stand out. Dark blues and purples, deep and layered — it’s unmistakable. Some people find it frightening, but personally? I find it beautiful.”

“Guess that explains why some people are just scared of me,” Lydia muttered dryly.

Raja’s smile widened. “Exactly.”

She gestured lightly with her hand, as though tracing invisible outlines. “An aura is like a signature, unique to every soul. The colors flow with who you are, but there are patterns.”

“So you can see Kori’s too?” Lydia asked, intrigued despite herself.

Raja’s gaze shifted. “Oh yes,” she said softly, her tone almost reverent. “Yours is the deep, velvety sky right before sunrise… and hers,” she looked at Kori, “burns in reds and oranges, like the first light of dawn. You complement each other beautifully.”

Kori blinked, taken off guard. Lydia squeezed her hand.

“And when you thought I was dangerous,” Raja added, glancing at Kori again, “your aura flared up, wrapping around hers like a shield. It was very sweet.”

Kori frowned slightly, embarrassed. “Didn’t realize it showed.”

“Of course it does.” Raja smiled knowingly. “Your need to protect her is strong. It’s adorable seeing a young couple so happy. Usually, whenever I meet a witch, it’s an old hag demanding her next young prey.”

“Oh, so Nicole comes here?” Lydia said, giggling.

“Yes,” Raja sighed, rolling her eyes in mock exhaustion. “She’s been coming here forever, causing chaos every time. I’ve told her to give up more times than I can count.”

“That definitely sounds like her,” Lydia laughed.

Raja’s expression shifted, her gaze lingering on Kori now, more focused. “You know… your aura feels familiar somehow. Like we’ve met before.”

Kori shook her head. “Nah, trust me, I’d remember having this kind of conversation.”

Raja tilted her head thoughtfully. “Is your mother a warrior too?”

That caught Kori off guard. “Yeah… but she retired years ago.”

“Ah,” Raja said, smiling faintly. “Tell Monet I said hello when you see her next.”

Kori blinked. “…You know my mama?!”

Raja’s smile turned sly. “Let’s just say… we mingled, back in the day.”

Kori groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Raja laughed softly. “Well, I’ve kept you two long enough. Go on — enjoy the rest of your date.” And just like that, she walked away, disappearing as quietly as she’d arrived.

The girls stood there for a moment, still processing.

“…That was weird, right?” Lydia asked.

“Extremely,” Kori said flatly.

Weird or not, there wasn’t much they could do about it — and Kori still had plans.

Last stop: the lake.

If you thought the photo booth was a hidden gem? This spot was even more secret. Or maybe just more ignored—either way, it made the perfect place for them.

Stillwater mirrored the blue sky above, surrounded by tall grass, boulders, and a scattering of trees gave the place a calm, almost untouched feel. They settled beneath one of the larger ones, laying out a picnic cloth so they wouldn’t have to sit directly on the dirt. Lydia peeled off half her outfit, keeping pretty much only her dress on, while Kori simply kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her denim shirt.

The blonde had made sure they wouldn’t run out of things to do. She pulled out two sketchbooks and a set of colored pencils, spreading them between them so they could doodle the afternoon away. It was Lydia who suggested they try drawing each other—and Kori had agreed without hesitation. They’d both mentioned liking it before, but somehow, they'd never gotten around to actually doing it together until now.

Time passed in a comfortable hush. Lydia hummed snatches of songs, Kori occasionally joining in under her breath, but no real words were spoken. They were both focused on their drawings, settled into the kind of silence that only comes with true ease.

Eventually, Kori broke it.

"I'm sorry for not mentioning Plane before. I should’ve at least given you a heads-up." Her eyes stayed on her paper.

“It’s okay, babe.” Lydia smiled, still drawing. “It did catch me by surprise that you had a sister, though.” She giggled. “But at the same time… we never really touched on the topic of our families.”

“True. Took me a while to even figure out you had a family besides the coven,” Kori chuckled.

“And I just learned you had a sister! But really, the subject just never came up.”

“Would you like to hear about it? It’s not exactly a happy story…”

“But it’s yours, and that’s what matters to me,” Lydia said gently. “But only if you’re okay sharing it, my love.” She assured her.

“I don’t mind talking about it… I just don’t love talking about it,” Kori said, pausing to find the right words. “Uhm, to keep it short—my bio parents died when I was young. I lived in an orphanage for a couple years. Then I was adopted by someone who used to know them.” She kept painting as she spoke, her voice calm.

Lydia’s hand froze mid-stroke. She looked up, surprised but trying not to show it, waiting to see if Kori would say more. She didn’t—not right away, at least. Her mouth opened, then closed, before she finally found the words.

“Babe… I had no idea…” the witch said quietly.

“Yeah, people don't know how to react to something like this, so I get it, don't worry” Kori looked up, meeting her eyes, giving her a gentle smile. “Want me to keep going? Or does it feel too heavy for this moment? We can change to something more pleasant.”

“I want to know more... if you don’t mind.” she said softly.

“Uhm okay… I don't remember much about my life with my bio parents, I think that's for my own good, it shielded me from missing them in a way. My first memories are already in the orphanage, that's where I met Plane, and we used to fight like sisters, and we heard it a lot, so we just decided we would be sisters. That's how I got stuck with that pain in the ass!” Kori laughed, back to sketching.

“Was she always like that?” Lydia returned her gaze to her own paper.

“Nooo,” Kori grinned, drawing out the word. “She actually got worse over time. Not that she was particularly nice to begin with.” Her pencil made quick, confident strokes as she talked. “But we always had each other’s backs. She ate my greens — because, well, you know I wasn’t gonna — and I made sure she didn’t stay on everyone’s bad side.”

“So you were always a smooth talker, I see,” the small witch chuckled.

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Kori said proudly. “I talked us out of trouble so many times. And believe me, we were constantly in trouble.” She laughed, eyes lighting up with the memory. “A bunch of rules got made because of us, actually.”

“I do believe that!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kori said, feigning offense, hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “I’m always an angel.”

Lydia gave her a look — the look — and they both cracked up.

After the laughter faded, Kori spoke again, softer this time. “Eventually, Monet found out about me. She was retiring from adventuring, so… she took me in.”

“And that's how you decided to become an adventure too?” Lydia asked.

Kori grinned. “Ha, no. She actually tried to talk me out of it for years. But I knew what I wanted.”

“You mean you're always this stubborn, babe?” Lydia joked.

“Too bad you love me just like that,” Kori teased.

“I sure do,” Lydia smiled, her voice soft but certain.

The blonde’s lips curved into a small, warm smile. “Can you pass me that pencil, my love?

“Sure, here” Lydia said, handing it to her. But instead of taking it right away, Kori grabbed her hand and gave it a playful tug, pulling her close enough to steal a quick peck on her lips.

“You could’ve just asked for a kiss if that’s what you wanted,” Lydia teased, pretending to scold her but unable to hide her smile.

“Yeah? Then can I have more?” Kori asked, already leaning in.

Lydia giggled and showered her with soft kisses all over her face, her laughter spilling into the quiet clearing. Kori wrapped her arms around her, holding her like she had no intention of letting her go. They stayed like that for a while — tangled together, nuzzling and exchanging tiny, lazy kisses — until Lydia glanced over and caught sight of Kori’s sketch.
“Awww, babe… is this from earlier?” she cooed, picking up the unfinished drawing.

The stretch consisted on Lydia in a quiet meadow, one of the cats from earlier curled in her arms while a few others played in the background, chasing delicate little butterflies. There was something angelic and ethereal about it — the way the light touched her, the sense of calm woven into every stroke. Lydia stood at the center of it all, her black hair flowing gently in the breeze, her big blue eyes bright and alive, and that radiant smile — the one Kori knew by heart now — shining as if the entire scene revolved around her.

“I love it,” she whispered.

“You weren’t supposed to see it yet,” Kori mumbled, cheeks flushing faintly. “It’s not even finished…” She hesitated, then quickly grabbed Lydia’s page. “Let me see yours, Lyds.”

It turned out they’d been on the same wavelength. Lydia’s drawing showed Kori from earlier, holding the photos they’d taken together. The angle was perfect — the light hitting just right so her lip gloss and necklaces shimmered, her painted nails delicately holding the photo, her expression soft but smug, like she knew exactly how good she looked.

Kori stared at it, momentarily speechless, her chest tight with quiet emotion. She could feel Lydia’s love in every careful line.

“Babe,” Kori whispered, her voice breaking into a grin, “we’re framing this.”

Lydia smiled, leaning in to place a soft hand against Kori’s jaw. “I’d like that too.” Then she closed the space between them, kissing her.

It started soft and sweet, a moment suspended in quiet appreciation. But quickly, it deepened — hungry, magnetic, inevitable. Neither cared about smudging lip gloss or messing up their makeup. All that mattered was the warmth between them, the pull they couldn’t resist.

When they finally broke apart, the black haired girl, still smiling from the kiss, glanced at the serene lake. The sun reflected off the water, casting little sparkles that beckoned them. Kori followed her gaze, and a smirk tugged at her lips.

“Should we get in?” she asked, already pushing herself up and holding out a hand. “Looks too good to pass up.”

“Babe, we can’t get too wet,” Lydia warned, but she reached for her hand anyway.

“I know, I know — just dipping our feet,” Kori promised.

Hand in hand, they made their way down toward the water, grass crunching softly beneath their bare feet. The lake was cool and smooth, the chill seeping pleasantly into their skin as they waded in up to their ankles. Each gentle step sent tiny ripples spiraling outward across the otherwise still surface.

“The water feels even better than I expected,” Lydia said, sighing contentedly.

“It does,” Kori agreed, a small smile playing at her lips.

Lydia took the moment to splash her — just a little — when Kori wasn’t looking.

Kori blinked, mock-offended, and Lydia’s laughter gave her away.

“I thought you said we shouldn’t get wet!” Kori accused.

“We’re not,” Lydia said, still grinning. “We didn’t bring spare clothes.”

Kori turned back, only to get splashed again.

“Oh, you’re asking for war, Lyds,” she teased, splashing her back.

Lydia gasped as the cool droplets hit her skin. “Oh, it’s on now!”

The splashes escalated quickly, water flying everywhere as their laughter echoed over the lake. Kori, naturally, closed the distance fast, and Lydia squealed, trying to scramble away — but balance in the water wasn’t on her side.

She stumbled for a moment, nearly falling in — but before she could, Kori’s arms wrapped securely around her from behind, steadying her.

“Easy there,” Kori murmured close to her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Can’t have you soaking wet, babe. You good?”

The small girl turned her head just enough to meet her gaze, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’m okay.” then giving her a sweet kiss on her lips.

The blonde readjusted her, turning Lydia to face her, and with a playful grin, scooped her up effortlessly. Lydia couldn't help but giggle and wrapped her hands around her girlfriend’s neck, as she spinned them both around, water splashing all over themselves.

The tall girl gently set her back down, and Lydia pulled her a kiss, which Kori happily obliged to it. Kori's hands on her lower back and Lydia still tangled on her neck, they giggled and melted into each other, loving the feeling of being embraced by the one they loved the most.

Their giggles softened into quiet, breathless sounds, melting into the warmth between them. The lake lapped softly around their legs, but neither paid it any mind. All they felt was each other — the wet press of skin, the slick slide of damp fabric, the steady thrum of heat curling low between them.

Things kept progressing, the air growing heavier, warmer, until Lydia gave her that look — the one through her eyelashes, the one Kori knew all too well. It was soft, inviting, undeniable… and the blonde didn’t waste a single second answering it.

By the time they made it back to their spot beneath the tree, neither of them was laughing anymore. Their cheeks were flushed, lips kiss-bitten, breaths uneven. The playful energy from moments ago had shifted into something slower, deeper — a quiet, burning want humming between them.

Kori dropped onto the blanket first, leaning back on her hands as she tried to steady her breathing, but the small girl followed without hesitation, crawling straight into her space. Her damp dress clung faintly to her skin, her dark hair sticking in soft strands against her flushed cheeks, and the sight alone made Kori’s chest tighten.

Lydia straddled her lap with ease, her knees pressing into the soft fabric of the blanket, her hands resting against Kori’s shoulders for balance. Neither said a word at first, the silence stretching between them — but it wasn’t awkward. It was loaded. Every glance, every touch of breath, every shift of weight carried its own meaning.

Kori’s fingers slid instinctively along Lydia’s waist, thumbs brushing the damp edge of fabric before settling there. Her gaze met Lydia’s, searching, lingering, drinking her in.

“You’re… so beautiful,” Kori whispered, barely more than breath, the words pulled from her without thought.

Lydia’s lips curved into the faintest, softest smile. “I was about to say the same thing,” she whispered back, tilting her head slightly, her blue eyes locking onto hers.

And the blonde knew what needed to be done.

Kori leaned up, closing the small gap between them, and their lips met again — this time with no hesitation, no playfulness, just heat and need and a longing that had been simmering all day. Lydia’s fingers threaded into Kori’s damp blonde hair, tugging her closer, while Kori’s hands slid down her back, holding her like she was something precious and necessary all at once.

The world beyond their little patch of shade faded away, leaving nothing but their desire, warm skin, and the quiet rush of blood pounding in their ears.

Kori’s kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like she was savoring every second. Lydia tilted her head, letting her in, their breaths tangled as the heat between them grew. Kori’s hands traced a slow path along Lydia’s sides, fingertips brushing under the fabric, the lingering coolness of the lake melting under the warmth building between them.

Lydia shifted slightly, pressing closer until there was no space left, her knees framing Kori’s hips. Her soft sigh brushed against Kori’s lips, shaky and wanting, and it made something inside the blonde twist and tighten.

Kori pulled back just enough to look at her, their noses nearly touching. Her voice came out low, husky, barely holding steady. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, Lyds.”

Lydia’s lips curved into a small, breathless smile. “Not planning to…” she whispered, running her fingertips along the nape of Kori’s neck, nails grazing lightly. “But letting you know to make a move, yeah maybe.”

Kori’s soft laugh caught in her throat, turning into something rougher as she captured her lips again, this time with more hunger. Lydia met her halfway, matching her pace, letting the kiss consume them both until her head was spinning and all she could feel was Kori — warm, grounding, everywhere.

Lydia’s hips started moving on their own, slowly grinding against her girlfriend, looking for friction she couldn’t resist anymore. Kori let her, her hand guiding Lydia’s movements steady while her lips trailed soft, wet kisses along her jaw — slow, gentle, and warm enough to make Lydia shiver.

But the position wasn’t giving her enough. She needed more — more touch, more attention, more of Kori. The teasing wasn’t enough anymore.

“Babe…” she whispered, breath shaky, “I want you.”

Kori stilled, her lips brushing the edge of Lydia’s cheek as a small smile curved against her skin. “Of course, my love,” she murmured softly, her voice carrying that low, husky edge that made Lydia’s stomach twist.

Lydia lifted her hips just enough for Kori’s hand to slip beneath, fingers sliding her underwear aside with ease. Kori started slow, deliberate — circling Lydia’s clit with light, careful strokes, brushing and pressing just enough to build the tension, but not enough to satisfy it. The small witch gasped softly, her nails digging lightly into Kori’s shoulder as her breath grew uneven, her hips twitching under every delicate touch.

Kori smirked faintly against her skin, feeling Lydia’s growing desperation, and gave her what she was silently asking for. Her fingers moved with more intent now, pressing harder, quicker, her rhythm deepening until two slipped inside with an easy glide, curling perfectly as if she already knew exactly where Lydia needed her.

That got a reaction out of her — Lydia moaned against Kori’s neck, her hips no longer just following but riding her girlfriend’s hand with growing urgency. Kori’s other arm wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her steady as the pleasure built higher and higher between them.

Their lips met again, messy and hungry, the soft sounds escaping Lydia’s throat mixing with Kori’s uneven breaths. Every movement, every kiss, every brush of skin was pulling her closer and closer to the edge.

It didn’t take long before the pressure inside her finally snapped, pleasure rushing through her in waves that stole her breath. Lydia clung to Kori, trembling in her arms, her forehead pressed against her girlfriend’s shoulder as soft, shaky moans spilled out against her skin.

Kori held her close, her free hand stroking down her back, whispering quiet, sweet nothings against her temple as she kissed her flushed skin gently, grounding her until the tremors faded and her breathing steadied.

Finally, Lydia fully melted into her, completely spent, and Kori smiled softly, brushing a few strands of dark hair from her flushed face before pressing one last lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Babe… would you like to eat, or do you want to cuddle a little longer?” Kori asked gently, her thumb brushing along Lydia’s arm.

“I’m not letting go of you yet,” Lydia murmured, snuggling closer, her face resting against Kori’s chest.

Kori chuckled softly and reached for the water bottle from her bag, offering it to her. “Okay… some water, then?”

Lydia nodded, taking it carefully, savoring each swallow while Kori watched her with quiet fondness. When it was her turn, Kori took a long sip herself before setting it down beside them. Her fingers returned to Lydia’s hair, stroking it slowly, nails dragging lightly along her scalp. Lydia hummed softly in contentment, her body relaxing against Kori’s.

Kori smiled to herself. She had learned long ago that after moments like this, Lydia craved closeness, sought comfort, and depended entirely on her — and Kori loved it. She adored this side of her small, independent girlfriend, loved how her presence alone could calm and reassure her. And she was more than happy to give it all — affection, warmth, love — every bit of it.

Lydia lifted her gaze to meet Kori’s, blue eyes soft and luminous. Her fingers traced gently along Kori’s jaw, guiding her closer, until their lips met in a slow, tender kiss — gentle full of affection. Kori melted into it, savoring the closeness, letting her hands cradle Lydia as if she never wanted to let go.

When they finally pulled back, Lydia spoke, her voice ever so gentle, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kori replied, smiling, leaning in to press another lingering kiss to her lips. Even though they both know it and have said it, it still gives all the thrills, they have yet to grow used to this bubbly feeling. Perhaps, that should give even more reason for them to say it more.

The moment lasted a while longer, the quiet intimacy wrapping around them like a blanket. Slowly, they shifted toward their sketchbooks, pulling them closer and spreading the colored pencils between them. Their fingers brushed as they adjusted their papers, laughter soft and easy as they began finishing their drawings.

Lydia studied Kori’s sketch, her blue eyes lighting up. “Babe… you really captured me,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the lines.

Kori grinned, a little flush rising to her cheeks. “I could say the same about yours. You made me look… smug and cute at the same time,” she teased. Their laughter mixed together, soft and warm, filling the space around them.

Eventually, Kori reached for the snacks — a small assortment of Hormona’s baked goods she had carefully packed for their picnic. After all, Kori knew better than to attempt baking herself; if she tried, she’d probably set the entire kitchen on fire. Luckily, Hormona had been more than happy to prepare something special for the occasion.

They nibbled slowly, savoring each bite, occasionally feeding one another in turns. Their fingers brushed more than once, lingering just a little longer each time, sending small sparks racing through Lydia’s chest. Every playful touch, every stolen glance, carried a quiet sweetness — like the pastries weren’t the only thing making her melt.

Amid the soft laughter and lazy snacking, Kori noticed Lydia going quiet, her gaze distant, thoughtful. The blonde tilted her head, brushing a crumb off Lydia’s cheek.
“Hey, babe… you’re quiet,” she said gently. “Thinking about something?”

Lydia blinked, hesitating for a moment before meeting her eyes. Her voice came out soft, almost uncertain. “I… I realized we’ve talked a lot about you and your family. I guess it’s my turn now, but… I don’t really know where to start.”

Kori’s expression softened immediately, her hand sliding to cover Lydia’s. “You don’t have to if it’s too much,” she said, her voice low and steady. “But if you want to… I’m here. Always.”

Lydia smiled faintly, her fingers threading between Kori’s, squeezing gently. “I want to. It’s just… complicated. Sometimes it feels like it’s not even my story to tell.”

That caught Kori off guard. Her brows furrowed, curiosity lighting her brown eyes as confusion flickered across her face. Lydia couldn’t help but giggle softly at the expression before continuing.

“I guess I should start by saying… my parents loved me. They really did. They did everything they could to make me and my brothers happy and safe.”

Kori nodded quietly, letting her go at her own pace.

“Remember the aura thing we talked about earlier?” Lydia asked. Kori gave a small nod. “Yeah… it’s haunted me since the day I was born. People told my parents over and over that their daughter would bring calamity, that I was destined to turn evil… that they should ‘get rid of me’ since they already had two normal children.”

Kori’s chest tightened. Her jaw clenched, but she bit back the dozen sharp things she wanted to say. “That’s… horrible,” she finally managed, though her voice carried the weight of everything she was holding back.

Lydia’s hand rubbed her arm gently, offering comfort even as she spoke of her own pain. “It would be, but… my parents never believed it. Not for a second. I grew up surrounded by so much love and care. Even though I’m technically the middle child, they always treated me like the baby of the family.”

Kori’s lips curved into a soft smile. “They sound like good people.”

“They are,” Lydia said simply. Her expression softened, but a shadow still lingered behind her eyes. “But the villagers… they were terrified of me. My parents and brothers had to protect me constantly, making sure no one tried to hurt me whenever I stepped outside. At first, it was just dirty looks… no kids allowed to play with me. But as I grew up, their fear grew too. The whispers turned to insults, the stares turned to threats. And eventually… it wasn’t safe for me to be there anymore. I was putting them all in danger just by existing.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. Kori immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as though she could shield her from every bad thing in the world.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Kori whispered against her hair.

Lydia smiled faintly, leaning into her warmth. “I know, my love. And it’s all in the past now, anyway.” She pulled back slightly to look up at her, giving a small, reassuring smile.

But Kori didn’t let her go. She kept her close, needing Lydia to feel just how loved she was.

“My parents knew the only way to keep me safe was to hide me somewhere no one could reach me,” Lydia continued softly. “Even if it meant… they wouldn’t get to see me anymore.”

“And that’s when you ended up in the coven?” Kori asked, her voice gentler now. “It was the only place no one could find you?”

Lydia smirked. “Babe, I’m a witch. Of course it had to be the coven. The other option was a convent with nuns.”

That earned a soft laugh from Kori, but Lydia wasn’t done. “I was the one who told them it was okay to send me away. I was the one who chose not to stay in contact. And I was the one who decided to stay there… for well over a decade.”

“And then you chose to leave,” Kori said softly, brushing her thumb along Lydia’s cheek.

“I did,” Lydia replied with a little smile, tilting her head playfully. “A hot blonde stumbled her way into me, and I couldn’t help but follow her afterward. I just… needed to see what life could be like by her chaotic side.”

Kori blinked, momentarily stunned before her lips curved into a slow, delighted grin. “Aww, babe…” She leaned in, kissing her softly. “Does that mean you liked me the moment we met?”

Lydia gave her a teasing look, lips quirking. “I was infatuated with you, Kori King. But you?” She smirked. “You had a massive crush on me from the second you laid those pretty brown eyes on me.”

Kori threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Can you blame me?! Honestly, if you hadn’t joined the guild, I probably would’ve joined the coven just to be near you.”

“Oh, I’m glad you didn’t,” Lydia teased, grinning. “You would’ve hated it there — it’s kind of boring.”

Kori gasped dramatically. “Maybe I’d just ‘accidentally’ stumble into the coven every other day, just to keep my life more exciting.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Babe, you’d pick a fight with half the coven if you did that. I wouldn’t be able to cover for you. Would you really do something that reckless?”

Kori smirked, leaning in close. “Absolutely. For the small chance to see you — even if they burned me at the stake. Totally worth it.”

“Babe!” Lydia laughed, swatting her arm. “First of all, they’d never use something as primitive as burning at the stake. Please. At least they’d interrogate you first — make sure you’re just stupid and not actually dangerous!”

That broke them both. Within seconds, they were wheezing with laughter, tears forming at the corners of their eyes, clutching at their stomachs. Their giggles tangled together, warm and loud, until the sound faded into soft, breathless sighs, both of them still clinging to each other, cheeks warm and flushed. Lydia buried her face against Kori’s neck, still giggling under her breath, while Kori lazily traced circles on her back, her heartbeat steady beneath Lydia’s cheek.

For a long moment, they just sat there, tangled up beneath the shade of the tree, letting the quiet settle around them. The earlier heaviness of Lydia’s story had lifted, replaced by something warmer — softer.

Kori pressed a tender kiss to Lydia’s temple, whispering against her skin, “I’m really glad you’re here with me, babe.”

Lydia smiled, her fingers brushing along Kori’s jaw as she tilted her face up to meet her gaze. “Me too, I wouldn't have it any other way,” she whispered back, her blue eyes shining in the late afternoon light.

Neither of them needed to say anything more. The silence was comfortable now, filled with unspoken promises for their future together and quiet love that grew stronger by the second. Eventually, Kori reached for the sketchbook lying beside them, placing it on Lydia’s lap with a playful little grin.

“C’mon,” she said softly, brushing a stray strand of dark hair behind her girlfriend’s ear. “Let’s finish these before the sun goes down.”

Lydia returned the smile, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss before picking up her pencil. “Only if we snack while we do it,” she teased.

Kori laughed under her breath, pulling the bag closer. “Deal.”

And just like that, the world slowed around them again — two girls, side by side, surrounded by sketches, snacks, and soft laughter, the weight of the past set aside for now, and an exciting future to call their own as the sun dipped lower behind the trees.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚✶⋆.˚༘⋆ʚɞ

When the guild came into view in the distance, Kori slowed her steps, as if wanting to savor the last few moments before they crossed back into their normal world. Her thumb traced soft circles over Lydia’s knuckles, her voice gentle when she finally asked,

“Hey, babe… be honest. Did you… enjoy our first date?”

Lydia stopped walking, turning to face her fully. For a heartbeat, she just stared at her girlfriend, lips twitching as if trying to hold back a smile. Then she burst out laughing — soft, warm, and happy.

“Kori King,” she said, shaking her head fondly, “enjoyed is such an understatement.” Her fingers brushed Kori’s cheek, her voice dropping to something sweeter, softer. “It was perfect.”

Kori’s smile widened instantly, relief and happiness mixing all at once. “Good, cause it's the first of many,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss her — gentle, slow, and lingering.

They stayed like that for a moment, tucked into each other beneath the sun and the moon, the world quiet around them. Today had been full — laughter, tenderness, chaos, secrets, and love — and neither of them would’ve changed a single thing.

Chapter Text

Suzie lay sprawled across the patio floor, her back against the cool stone, eyes lost in the endless night sky. The soft breeze against her skin was just chilly enough to raise goosebumps, yet refreshing in its own quiet way. She’d been working herself to exhaustion lately, anything to keep her mind busy, anything to avoid thinking too much.

There was no real reason for her to be out here. It just felt better than being trapped in her room — the same four walls she’d been drowning in for days. Out here, beneath the stars, the silence was kinder.

The redhead’s thoughts wandered, as they always did, back to her. Every little memory replayed like a loop she couldn’t shut off — on every small moment they’d shared over the years, every smile, every touch, every stolen glance that built the story of who they were. Each one flickered in her head like tiny constellations, pieces of a whole she still couldn’t fully name.

It had taken her a couple of days to feel even a little better. Kori and Lydia had quietly made space for her, letting her share their company so she wouldn’t feel so alone. Eventually, the idea of staying in her room became tolerable again — especially after a deep cleaning that Lydia had subtly pushed her into. (“If everything still smells like Jewels’ perfume, Suzie, maybe it’s time to wash your sheets,” she’d teased, and Suzie couldn’t even argue. The witch was right.) But once the smell faded, the room felt emptier than before.

So she’d filled her days however she could: finally picking up books that had gathered dust on her shelves, started tending to her hair again, distracting herself with little routines, anything to feel a little in control. And yet, time itself still felt broken. The clock kept ticking, but the hours never seemed to move; days blurred together into one long stretch of stillness, like walking in place — feet rising and falling but going nowhere at all.

Because at the end of that stillness, there was Jewels. And Suzie didn’t know what to do about her.

Jewels hadn’t been at the guild for over a week now. With preparations for the upcoming ball in full swing, everyone was too busy to notice her absence. Everyone except Suzie. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, she felt the absence like a missing heartbeat. She missed Jewels. She didn’t even have the words to explain it — not to anyone, not even to herself — but she missed her.

She couldn’t even pinpoint when her feelings started — or when she began shoving them into a dark corner of her mind, pretending they weren’t there. Maybe there was never a time when those two things weren’t happening at once. She told herself, over and over, that it was platonic. That what she felt for Jewels was safe, simple, harmless. She truly believed it. She wanted to believe it.

Until the day she made her cry. Again.

Seeing the sad tears roll down Jewels’ face — tears Suzie caused — hit her like a punch to the stomach, knocking every last bit of air from her lungs. And in that instant, denial stopped working. Ignorance had been bliss… until it wasn’t.

She remembers it like it happened yesterday — the first time they met.

Mock battles filled the guild’s sparring hall — the same place where Suzie had faced off against Kori countless times, where she’d left behind blood, sweat, and tears, using every drop as fuel to push herself further. This was where she thrived. Where she proved herself. Where she refused to stop.

She wanted to be the best. To beat the best. To be seen as the best. To feel it in her bones.

If anyone else said it out loud, it might have sounded absurd — a ridiculous, idealistic little dream at best. But for Suzie, it wasn’t some far-fetched wish. It was her reality. In the short time since their recruitment, she and Kori had been climbing the guild’s ranks like it was nothing, scaling walls that took most people close to a decade to reach — and many gave up before ever making it that far. In just two years, they had shattered expectations.

Always head-to-head. Always neck-and-neck. Neither ever satisfied, neither ever willing to slow down. For the two of them, not even the sky was the limit.

They’d carved their names into the guild’s history through sheer grit: taking missions no one else dared attempt, chasing glory in uncharted ruins whispered about in old stories, stumbling into legends most people only dreamed of. They lived loud, celebrated harder, and sparred with anyone bold enough to stand across from them. Every victory was savored like the first, and every mistake became fuel to burn brighter the next time.

Life was good. Neither of them had many complaints.

When they returned to the guild after weeks away, autumn had well settled in — red and orange leaves scattered across fading grass, the air shifting, readying for the harsh cold to come. Suzie came back carrying her fourth championship trophy — a massive golden thing, heavier than all her packed belongings combined — along with a new scar etched across her chin, a freshly earned alias, and a long list of stories to brag about.

And Kori?

Well, Kori came back limping, third place bronze trophy in hand, having pulled a muscle so badly it made walking an effort. Suzie was never going to let her forget it. For once, she was clearly better than Kori, and the redhead wore her victory like a crown.

Meanwhile, big changes were brewing inside the guild. With the current guild master announcing their upcoming retirement, Onya had been pulled almost entirely into administrative work to test whether she was fit to step into the role. Both Suzie and Kori were endlessly proud of her — being considered at all was a massive deal — but they still missed the easy, chaotic energy of the trio when they were together.

When they finally walked through the doors, Onya greeted them with open arms and crushing hugs, eager to hear every wild detail of their travels. Suzie would’ve loved nothing more than to sit down and dive into the stories, especially with so many things going her way… but there was no chance Kori was making it up six flights of stairs to the third floor carrying her bags on that leg — or even alone.

So Suzie just flashed her friend a wide grin, dimples deep and eyes glinting, and promised they’d catch up properly after they got some very, very needed rest.

The thing is, the next morning, when Suzie was making her way down the hall, planning to check on the blonde, Onya stopped her halfway through — moving fast, eyes sharp but a little frantic.

“Suzie, glad I caught you! You good, right?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Suzie said, shifting her weight. “Just heading to Kori’s room. Were you looking for me?”

“Girl, I’m looking for anyone who can get the job done at this point.” Onya’s words came quick, her tone clipped with some urgency. “We’ve got mock battles starting in thirty minutes, but someone just canceled and I need a replacement asap.”

“Oh. I can do that!” Suzie answered without hesitation.

Relief washed over Onya’s face, and she broke into a wide grin. “Thank the gods. I knew I could count on you!” She hugged her tight before stepping back. “Now go — change out of your PJs, warm up, and get down there. We’re keeping to schedule, got it?!”

Suzie couldn’t help but laugh at how happy something so small had made her friend. If stepping in gave Onya one less problem to stress about, she was glad to do it.

And that's how an hour later, Suzie was standing in the sparring hall — a room she knew as well as her own quarters — doing what had become second nature to her, the adrenaline rushing through her veins felt like home. Since her blonde friend would probably be out of commission for a while, and there was no competition left in the rest of the year, the redhead truly didn't expect to be fighting so soon. She already had made peace with the downtime. But now? She's all fired up and ready for a showdown.

That was a mistake, one of many.

First, Onya never mentioned that her opponent was a rookie. That she was supposed to tone it down.

Second, Suzie, in her rush to make it on time, didn’t ask anything about who she’d be up against — something she normally would’ve done without fail.

Third, Suzie in all her excitement, didn't take a good look at her opponent before the match started. If she did, she would have clocked immediately that this poor soul had no fucking clue what she was supposed to do there.

Fourth — the biggest mistake of all — the redhead wanted to use her new move. The one who got her new nickname, Copper Maiden, where her entire body is covered by gleaming armor, making her pretty much invincible, spikes covering her frame like a deadly halo, capable of launching in every direction (basically a reverse iron maiden). It was as brutal as it was beautiful. Even though she looked sickening doing it, no one other than Kori King found a way to avoid getting skewered by it.

Which meant the poor rookie never stood a chance.

The match was called early, but not before Suzie landed far too many hits.

That’s when the weight of it hit her.

Because this wasn’t a fight. It was a one-sided assault. The girl hadn’t attacked — she’d barely defended, throwing up a single barrier that Suzie had shattered in a few seconds.
And now, Suzie was looking down at her opponent curled into a fetal position on the floor, small and trembling, olive-toned skin marked by fresh cuts where Suzie’s spikes had grazed her.

Big, dark eyes stared up at her, wet with tears. She looked terrified.

Terrified of her.

And that broke something inside Suzie.

Nothing could have prepared her for this. For the sharp, gut-wrenching awareness that she had hurt someone for no reason. That she had been the cause of the tears and blood streaking down this girl’s skin. That she’d crossed a line she didn’t even realize was there until it was far behind her.

The guilt crashed into her like a tidal wave, swallowing her whole. She felt cruel. Reckless. Monstrous, even. And none of it had been intentional — but it was still her fault.

She hated it.

Suzie didn’t wait for deliberation. Didn’t wait for the announcement. She crossed the floor quickly and crouched down in front of the girl, forcing herself to meet her tearful gaze.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Her voice shook despite her best efforts. “Are you hurt badly anywhere? There’s someone on standby with a first-aid kit — and if it’s worse than that, we’ll call the doctor right now, okay?”

She reached out slowly, giving the girl every chance to pull away, and gently took her hand between her own.

“I know there’s no reason for you to believe me,” she whispered, raw and hoarse, “but I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me — you don’t owe me that — but I’ll make it up to you. However I can. I promise.”

Before the girl could respond, the officiator called them both to stand for the announcement.

Of course Suzie won. That was never up for debate. But hearing her name called felt hollow. Disgusting. The victory sat in her stomach like a stone she couldn’t swallow. And when the redhead catched Onya glaring at her from the benches, and she knew there was earful coming her way soon, but she also knew how she deserved every second of it.

Looking back, it’s wild to think that Jewels was the first person who approached her afterward.

It started slow — casual conversations, training alongside Suzie and Kori, then hanging out after sparring sessions. Before Suzie even realized it, Jewels had carved a place for herself in Suzie’s life — softening the edges she didn’t even know she had.

And now? Now that Jewels was actively avoiding her, that absence was louder than anything else.

The empty space Jewels left behind hurt in ways Suzie couldn’t name.

This ache in her chest — sharp, restless, unrelenting — it wasn’t just platonic. It probably never was.

It hurts to admit when you’re wrong. But it hurts far worse to avoid the truth once you are finally able to see it.

And now, with the wound wide open, Suzie could feel it bleeding — warm and steady, soaking through everything. She could see the red pooling around her, threatening to drown her where she stood.

Being without Jewels didn’t just hurt.

It felt like dying.

The redhead was lost in her thoughts when the quiet night was broken by the soft rumble of the patio door sliding open. Light spilled out from inside, stretching across the stone floor, and a shadow fell over her. She turned her head, expecting maybe Kori or Lydia — but instead, it was someone else.

“Lana?” Suzie blinked in surprise.

“Hey.” Lana hesitated, lingering in the doorway, like she wasn’t sure if she should say what came next. “Jewels is upstairs… you should go see her.”

Suzie caught the hesitation in her tone, the clear conflict in her expression. That extended pause told her everything: Jewels being upstairs wasn’t something she was supposed to know. Which meant Lana was acting by her own accord.
She didn’t waste another second. “Thanks,” she muttered quickly, already pushing herself to her feet and darting inside.

Finding Jewels wasn’t hard — there were only two places she could ever be. Suzie’s room was on the third floor, a couple doors down from Kori’s, while Jewels’ and Lana’s rooms were side by side on the second. Logic said Jewels would be in her own room. But instinct pulled her elsewhere.

And her instinct was right.

“Jewels! You’re here!” Suzie burst into her room, the door slamming against the wall as she stopped dead in the doorway.

Jewels froze, wide-eyed, like she’d just been caught sneaking around;

“Suzie — hi,” she managed softly.

It was wrong. Everything about her was wrong. The girl who usually greeted her with warm smiles, soft touches, and contagious laughter was… gone. What was left was quiet, guarded, awkward.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. The silence stretched painfully until Jewels finally broke it.

“I… like your new hair,” she said carefully, almost nervous, like she was grasping for anything to say.

Suzie’s hand instinctively tucked the bright strands behind her ear. “Thanks,” she murmured. “Lydia offered, and I said yes on a whim. Still getting used to it.”

“It’s… bright red,” Jewels replied, trying to keep the conversation alive.

“Cherry,” Suzie corrected softly. “Yeah.”

And then silence again. Heavy. Deafening. Suffocating.

Suzie took a slow breath, forcing her courage to the surface. “Jewels… I’m sorry,” she said at last, her voice steadier than she felt.

That made Jewels look at her — really look at her — for the first time. Surprise flickered in her expression.

“You don’t have to…” she whispered. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!” The words came out sharper than Suzie intended, her chest tightening as everything spilled out. “I’m sorry for being so inconsiderate, for hurting you again and again when you’ve never been anything but kind to me—”

“Suzie, please.” Jewels cut her off gently, shaking her head. Her voice was quiet, but firm. “I don’t need an apology. Really.” She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “…I just came to drop off your dress for the ball. Lana’s sister needs to know if it needs adjustments, but if not, it’s ready.”

Suzie swallowed hard, her voice soft and sad when she asked, “Jewels… can we just talk?”

Jewels’ lips parted, but no sound came at first. Then, finally: “I don’t know… can we?” Her eyes slipped away again, refusing Suzie’s gaze.

That hit harder than anything else had.

“I’m trying,” Suzie whispered, her voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to keep staying at Luxx’s shop because of me — if you don’t wanna see me, I’ll stay out of your way. But you should know…” She hesitated, heart pounding, then let the words tumble out in a rush. “I miss you. And I like you. A lot. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to keep going with this feeling.”

She stopped when she noticed Jewels’ shoulders shaking — but not from crying. From laughter.

Jewels tried, and failed, to stifle her soft giggles behind her hand.

“… you are laughing?” Suzie asked, baffled, her cheeks warming at how vulnerable she’d just been.

“I’m sorry,” Jewels said quickly, wiping under her eye. “I know I shouldn’t be laughing, but… I guess you’re struggling just as much as I am.” She smiled then, small but genuine, the first trace of brightness Suzie had seen in days. “We kinda suck at this, huh?”

Suzie blinked, stunned for half a second, before the corner of her lips finally tugged up. “…Yeah. We really do.”

Jewels’ smile softened, and suddenly the tension in the room eased, melting into something warmer.

“Kori and Lydia make it seem so easy,” Suzie muttered with a crooked grin.

That set them both off — soft, unrestrained giggles tumbling out until they were both smiling for real again.

“I am staying at Luxx’s,” Jewels explained once the laughter calmed, “but it’s to help with all the dresses she’s making. She needs extra hands, and… well, Lana’s terrible at sewing.”

Suzie smirked. “So you’re busy until Sunday?”

Jewels nodded.

“Then… can we talk after that?” Suzie asked gently, her voice careful this time.

“As long as you save me a dance,” Jewels teased, her cheeks warming with her own smile.

Suzie rolled her eyes but nodded, her chest a little lighter than before.

For the first time in weeks, it felt like there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Lydia’s room looked like a battlefield. Clothes were everywhere — scattered on the bed, draped over chairs, piling up on the floor in chaotic layers of fabric and regret. Her wardrobe had officially surrendered.

In a perfect world, she’d have planned this big event weeks ago: sketching outfit ideas, mixing fabrics, sewing mock-ups, making tiny alterations until she had the perfect look. She’d curse herself for leaving everything to the last second, fly through an all-nighter with the sewing machine, and finish just in time to get ready.

But this wasn’t a perfect world. This was Lydia’s world — where procrastination always won, deadlines hunted her like predators, and worst of all, there was Kori King.

Tall. Blonde. Ridiculously hot. Big muscles. Killer smile. Zero self-control when it came to distracting her girlfriend. Lydia had learned the hard way that Kori would never just let her work in peace.

And now, with less time than ever, too many outfits to choose from, and one very distracting blonde lounging around… Lydia was doomed. She needed to find something she could throw on with minimal effort — something flattering, stylish, and, ideally, not completely hated. Simple enough, right?

Nope. Not even close.

Because nothing — nothing — was working.

She’d tried on everything she owned and hated all of it. Her bed had vanished under mountains of discarded clothes. The floor was a treacherous maze of shoes. Her jewelry table looked like a dragon’s hoard, glinting piles threatening to collapse if she so much as breathed wrong.

And worst of all?

Kori King was absolutely no help.

The blonde had claimed the only free spot in the entire room — the sofa Lydia had fought to clear earlier — lounging there like this was premium entertainment. And honestly? It was.
Every outfit Lydia tried on, Kori cheered like a fan at a championship game. Every time she stripped one off, the blonde’s grin widened, tossing in commentary that was half flirting, half heckling, and entirely unhelpful. Every third outfit, Kori demanded a kiss as “payment for moral support” — and Lydia, stressed and already flustered, gave in every time.

Kori was amused.
Lydia was stressed.

Then came the turning point.

Lydia slipped into an oversized grey suit with matching trousers, a white button-down left open just enough to reveal the lace of her bra. She loosened her hair, cinched the pants with a belt, and slipped on a pair of sleek heels.

For the first time that day, she actually liked what she saw in the mirror. It wasn’t her usual vibe, but she was definitely serving. And Kori? Kori was eating it up.

“Babe,” Lydia asked, spinning to face her girlfriend, “what do you think?”

Kori didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze dragged over every inch of Lydia — slow, deliberate, like she was memorizing the view.

Finally, in a low, almost reverent voice, she said, “You look… phenomenal.”

Lydia’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Is it really that good? Maybe I should try it with a corset on top… or maybe without the shirt?”

Kori sat up instantly. “Oh, let’s definitely try without the shirt,” she said, way too eagerly, her big brown eyes sparking.

Lydia giggled, raising a brow. “Me in a suit is really doing it for you, huh?”

“Yes,” Kori groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Oh, this is too good. You have no idea how badly I want you to sit on my face right now—”

“Kori?!” Lydia squeaked, cheeks burning. Translation: really?! right now?

“Lydia…” Kori teased, tilting her head, her expression saying hell yes.

“Kori!” Lydia hopped closer, nearly tripping over a pair of boots. Translation: we’re actually doing this here?!

“Lydia,” the blonde said, voice dropping as she held out her hand, helping the witch steady herself. Translation: oh, we’re definitely doing this.

“Kori…” Lydia breathed, soft smile blooming, her blush deepening. Translation: okay, fine by me.

That was all the permission Kori needed. She pulled Lydia onto her lap, guiding her legs to straddle her, their faces close — but not close enough.

The air thickened.

Kori’s hand slid firmly to Lydia’s ass, squeezing, pulling her closer until their bodies aligned perfectly. The witch gently pushed Kori back against the sofa, making her head rest against the wall, hips shifting forward until the contact deepened. The fire between them sparked higher.

Lydia framed Kori’s face with both hands, stopping just inches from her lips, teasing her with that soft, lust-heavy gaze. The tension was unbearable — until Kori broke, leaning in for the kiss.

“I don’t think you should wear the suit,” Kori murmured between shallow breaths, her free hand roaming Lydia’s curves. “We’re not making it to the event if you do.”

Lydia smirked, eyes glinting. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“But what if I want to show off how gorgeous my love is?”

“In that case…” she leaned in, whispering against her lips, “…we can make compromises."

Their mouths finally crashed together — slow, sultry, melting into one another with aching, deliberate need. Fingers tangled, soft gasps filling the air, neither willing to break away.

By the time they pulled apart for breath, their foreheads resting together, they both knew this wasn’t ending anytime soon.

Lydia propped herself up against the wall, and Kori wasted no time unbuttoning the white shirt. Her fingers were skilled — suspiciously skilled — sliding down button by button without hesitation.

Lydia threaded her hand through Kori’s blonde locks, stroking softly, nails grazing her scalp, making the taller girl hum in quiet approval. Kori met her gaze again as the last button came undone, then dipped forward, lips grazing along Lydia’s sternum.

A sharp breath escaped Lydia, her other hand moving down to grip the nape of Kori’s neck, encouraging her.

Marks could be hidden later. This moment was worth everything.

Kori’s mouth trailed up, finding the curve of Lydia’s neck. She sucked, nibbled, leaving deliberate marks while the witch tilted her head, letting her. Lydia’s soft hums filled the air, tension wrapping around them tighter and tighter.

The blonde pulled her back into a kiss — deeper this time, hungry but still unhurried, savoring every second. Her hand slid up along Lydia’s back, fingertips brushing over the hook of her bra, teasing under it, massaging lightly to ease the tension there. Her nails dragged lazily, waiting — just waiting — for Lydia to give her the word to take it off.

And Lydia would have. She definitely would have… if she hadn’t heard the shed’s door creak open, a sudden gust of cool wind slipping inside and breaking the spell.

They pulled away slowly, still pressed close, foreheads nearly touching — the kind of pause that promised they’d dive right back in the second the door closed again.

Both turned their heads just in time to see Suzie standing there, hands stuffed in her pockets, looking entirely unfazed.

“This place,” she deadpanned, glancing around, “has definitely seen better days when it was still abandoned.”

Kori groaned, irritation flashing across her face. “Do you need something?”

“I talked to Jewels, but…” Suzie shrugged casually, already turning toward the door. “That can wait until tomorrow. You two look… busy. My bad.”

“You okay?” Lydia asked, breath still uneven, even as Kori took the opportunity to nip at the soft skin of her neck again, sucking gently until Lydia groaned, grabbing her wrist.

“Babe — wait.”

Suzie hesitated, glancing back just once before blurting out, “Yeah, I’m fine… but, uh… is this a fuck shed?”

Lydia blinked. “…No. It’s my place.”

“And we happen to fuck in it… a lot,” Kori added unhelpfully, her lips still brushing over Lydia’s skin.

Lydia snorted despite herself.

“Right,” Suzie nodded, deadpan. “So… a fuck shed.” She backed up a step, already halfway out the door. “Got it. I’ll make sure to never come here again, diva.”

The door shut behind her.

Lydia stared at it for a moment, dazed. “…Babe, what the hell just happened?”

“No clue.” Kori smirked, tugging her back in by the waist. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” And then she kissed her — deep and slow — while unclasping her bra and slipping it off like muscle memory.

“She looked… fine,” Lydia murmured between kisses, pulling back just enough to search Kori’s eyes.

“Yeah, babe,” Kori replied, lips curling against hers. “After catching us enough times, she was bound to get used to it eventually.” She nibbled gently at Lydia’s lower lip before letting go, her voice low and playful. “We’re officially off babysitting duty, which means… we can fuck in peace.”

Lydia laughed, her cheeks warm. “She’s our friend, you know.”

“Love her,” Kori said sweetly, nuzzling their noses together, “just… not when she’s cockblocking us.”

“You’re too much,” Lydia whispered, smiling against her lips.

“And you love me exactly like this,” Kori breathed, her words melting into the small space between them before stealing another soft kiss.

“I do,” Lydia whispered back, their foreheads resting together as matching smiles curved their lips. They stared into each other’s eyes, close enough to breathe the same air, touches holding them tethered.

Then Kori kissed her again — slow, tender, endless — like they could make the moment last forever.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

The Celestial Veil had descended. Beneath the haunting glow of the red moon, the guild gathered to celebrate the turning of the season. The night air carried a quiet, restless energy, as though the stars themselves were leaning closer, watching with bated breath. Inside the venue, soft candlelight flickered across tables adorned with crystal vases and silver-threaded décor, each delicate piece catching and scattering the ethereal light from the grand chandelier above.

Every season, the guild hosted unique events—some meant to promote achievements, others designed to strengthen bonds—but to most, these nights carried a deeper purpose. They were a chance to come together, to laugh, to reminisce, and to remind themselves why they fought and worked as one. As summer’s golden days bowed out and autumn crept in, anticipation buzzed through the air for one of their most cherished traditions: the Annual Guild Ball.

This year, however, the celebration carried even greater weight. Fate had aligned the ball with a rare cosmic event—a total lunar eclipse—and so, the theme was chosen: Celestial Veil.

The atmosphere brimmed with understated elegance. Soft conversations and polite laughter mingled with the gentle strains of live music. Champagne glittered in cascading towers, while the rich aroma of gourmet dishes drifted enticingly through the room. Through towering windows framed by heavy velvet curtains, the red moon was slowly climbing the heavens, ready to spill its eerie light into the hall and paint everything in shifting shadows.

It was a night for celebration, for unity, and for gazing toward the future—one shimmering with both promise and mystery. Draped in their finest attire, guild members mingled beneath the glow of the eclipse, their laughter and toasts carrying a weight of shared history. But beneath the glitter and warmth, a subtle tension hummed, a reminder that in their world, nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.

The first small incident of the night happened in the very beginning—at reception.

Kori was asked to welcome the guests for a while, since Onya was caught up resolving last minute business and Suzie was yet to show up.

In times like these, it feels like there are only these three people in that guild, but in all seriousness, they were the only three that could put shit together. Onya was the guild master; no one dared question her, nor did they have any reason to. As for Suzie and Kori? They carried their own kind of authority—one born not from title, but from fear and reputation.

Suzie might be short, but her reputation was enough to make one shatter. Her words cut as effectively as her fists, and honestly, neither was pleasant to be on the receiving end of. Kori, on the other hand… well, her reputation was a part of it, sure—but her looks alone were even more frightening. And she uses it to her full advantage.

The man showed up looking a little lost, though his attitude suggested otherwise.

He carried himself as if the world revolved around him and everyone else was just orbiting in his glow. At first glance, he came off as bold, but the truth was uglier: loud, obnoxious, and a complete inconvenience to have around. Somehow, he’d made it onto the guest list — but it was obvious from the start he wouldn’t last long.

Kori handled him right there at the reception, making it crystal clear this wasn’t his cabaret — it was hers — and she didn’t take shit from men.

The fool swore up and down that he’d behave, even promised not to cause a scene. But, of course, his words were hollow. The very first thing he did after Kori’s warning? He went sniffing around Lydia. And Kori wasn’t having any of it.

He spouted more nonsense before retreating into the bathroom and locking himself in, as if that would spare him. The blonde gave him no peace — not that he deserved any. And when he finally cracked the door open, Kori grabbed him by the collar and personally escorted him out.

On her way, she crossed paths with Suzie and Onya. Handing the situation over with her usual flair, Kori told Suzie to “hold down the fort.” Suzie, of course, laughed. Onya, without missing a beat, simply said she’d “appreciate it if Kori didn’t leave a blood trail.” Kori laughed at that too.

Problem solved. Insufferable man removed. Everyone was happy.

The ball carried on.

Soon after, the lights shifted, and Onya—draped in a long, shimmering sequin gown paired with an extravagant coat that caught and reflected the chandeliers’ glow—took the stage.

She was a natural host. Her voice carried easily across the hall as she thanked everyone for attending, for contributing, and for making the night possible. Between heartfelt acknowledgments, she cracked a few jokes, weaving in witty comments that drew warm laughter from the crowd. She spoke of the guild’s victories, their shared hardships, and the promises of the year ahead.

By the end, the room was captivated—Onya had everyone in the palm of her hand.

Realizing she might’ve gone on a little long, she chuckled at herself, waved dismissively, and declared the dance floor, bar, and feast officially open.

The crowd erupted into cheers, glasses clinked, and music swelled as the night truly began.

As the band picked up their set again, the dance floor quickly came alive—people laughing, spinning, and losing themselves to the music. But if you looked closely, you’d notice that almost every gaze in the room eventually drifted toward the couple at the center.

All eyes were on them.

Underneath the glittering chandelier, the crystals scattered tiny holographic traces of light across their skin, making it seem as though they were glowing. And though the venue was full, they moved as if they were the only two people in the world.

Kori was a vision.

She wore a black satin slip dress—spaghetti straps, a soft cowl neck, ruched pleats hugging her figure, and a daring slit climbing high up her leg. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in soft, effortless curls, each movement catching the faint shimmer of the lights. A fresh french tips press ons, subtle yet perfect. Her makeup? Cunty. The face card never declines. Around her neck, her delicate Venus pendant and the point of light necklace caught the glow of the chandelier, mirroring the light dancing on her skin. Laced-up heels completed the look, chosen with a single goal in mind: to dance the night away.

And she was feeling herself—how could she not? But as radiant as she was, her attention that night belonged entirely to one person.

Lydia.

The small witch was pure drama in motion. A strapless, black, feathered, floor-length gown with a sleek mermaid silhouette and a dramatic train that trailed behind her with elegance and intent. A structured, asymmetrical vinyl belt cinched her waist, creating a striking contrast against the feathers, while glossy black opera gloves elevated the entire look to perfection. Her makeup was bold and beautiful—a deep red lip paired with dark, sultry eyes—and around her neck hung the delicate new locket she refused to take off. Her heels gave her just enough height to almost meet her girlfriend’s gaze… though, honestly, it hardly mattered.

Because the most special part of Lydia’s look?
Kori’s hands framing her small waist.

The music shifted, melting into a slow, haunting ballad about falling in love. The band knew exactly what they were doing, setting the perfect trap—and the rest of the room knew it, too. Everyone watched, hushed, expectant. But even if they did know, they wouldn't care to stop either.

Lydia’s arms draped lazily around Kori’s neck, her fingertips tracing absent patterns against her skin, while Kori’s arms wrapped snugly around her waist, holding her close—so close there was no space left between them. Their smiles were effortless, soft, genuine, tiny pearls of joy lighting up their faces with every look exchanged, fully enamored by each other's presence.

They whispered little things only they could hear. Lydia giggled quietly at one of Kori’s offhand jokes, leaning forward until their foreheads touched, letting their breaths mingle in the space between them. From time to time, their lips met in soft, lingering kisses, too tender to be casual, too deep to be just playful. They were so happy together, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it.

They were completely in their own little world.
And everyone else? Everyone else was simply the universe… watching from afar.

“Aww, they’re so deeply in love,” Crystal cooed, resting her chin on her hand as she watched them, absolutely smitten with the sight.

“Fuck, they’re so deeply in love,” Lexi muttered from her spot at the table, sounding both impressed and annoyed as she took a long, dramatic sip of her drink.

“It feels like we’re at their wedding reception,” Sam whined, flopping back in her chair.

“Oh, they’re always like this,” Jewels said casually, barely glancing up from her plate as she forked another bite of food.

“You get used to it after a while,” Lana added matter-of-factly, sipping her wine.

“You mean to tell me,” Sam said, wide-eyed, “that you see this every day? And you’re not annoyed by how disgustingly cute they are?!”

Lana shrugged. “Nah. You just… get used to it.”

“They’re still in the honeymoon phase,” Lexi chimed in smoothly, waving her glass around. “It’ll pass.”

“It’s been like that since they first met,” Suzie said flatly, sliding into the seat next to them with a plate in hand. “I don’t think there’s hope. Odds are… they’re gonna be like that forever.”

Everyone turned to stare at her, processing the words, each with wildly different reactions.

“And you’re… okay with that?” Sam asked incredulously.

Suzie smirked, unbothered. “Like it has anything to do with me, diva.”

That earned a round of raised brows—Suzie, of all people, defending them? Given how visibly disgusted she usually looked around the couple, it was a surprise to everyone.

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen Kori,” Crystal said softly, her expression softening. “She’s like… glowing.”

“The same can be said about Lydia,” Lana pointed out. “The difference is night and day.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Why do I feel like the guild’s next big event is gonna end up being their wedding?” Hormona giggled, stabbing a forkful of dessert.

“It’s way too soon for that!” someone protested—though their argument died instantly when they all glanced back at the dance floor… just in time to catch Kori and Lydia sharing a slow, loving kiss, pulling apart only to lock eyes with matching, stupidly soft smiles.

“…Hmm. Maybe not,” Jewels murmured around a mouthful of food.

“We can all agree on one thing though,” Crystal said, setting her glass down. “Watching them makes us all feel very single.”

The table erupted with laughter, but none of them disagreed.

A few minutes later, the couple left the dance floor hand in hand, disappearing into one of the side halls.

“Oh. They just left,” Lana noted casually, though her raised brow said exactly what everyone else was thinking.

Their shared glance said it all—the universal “they’re totally sneaking away to fuck, right?” look. Words weren’t necessary.

“They’re gonna be busy for a while,” Sam smirked, swirling her drink.

“They’ll definitely come back wearing the same color lipstick,” Jewels teased, biting back a laugh.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Crystal said with a sly grin, “I don’t think there’s gonna be any lipstick left at all.”

“They’ll be back soon enough,” Suzie added dryly, cutting into her steak without looking up. “Lydia’s gonna get hungry eventually.”

That earned another round of laughter, louder this time—the kind that hid just how right they all knew she was.

The table eventually settled down after the laughter, the conversation flowing again as everyone drank, ate, and enjoyed themselves. But across from each other, Jewels and Suzie exchanged fleeting glances while simultaneously avoiding each other’s eyes—a paradox somehow made possible by sheer awkwardness.

Finally, Suzie shifted under the table and gave Jewels a gentle nudge with her foot. Jewels startled slightly, turning her head until they were face-to-face. The redhead tilted her chin toward the dance floor, a silent invitation. Jewels’ lips curved into the smallest, nervous smile as she nodded.

Neither of them said a word as they slipped away from the table, grateful no one questioned it. If anyone had, the blushes on their faces would’ve been evidence enough.

The music picked up, a lively, thumping beat designed to draw bodies closer and loosen tension. But for them, at first, it was… awkward. Neither seemed to know exactly what to do—where to put their hands, where to look, how to start. They were both painfully aware of how close they already were without yet daring to close the gap.

Then Jewels spotted Kori and Lydia returning to the buffet, hand in hand, whispering and laughing as they picked at the food. Jewels discreetly gestured for Suzie to look. The redhead turned her head, saw them, and almost immediately they both broke into quiet giggles. Somehow, that little shared moment snapped the tension.

Suzie leaned closer and complimented Jewels’ dress—the one she had made herself—and suddenly, Jewels lit up, the excitement spilling out of her like champagne overflowing a glass. She launched into a bubbly explanation about every tiny detail of its creation, gesturing wildly, lips moving fast.

The music was loud, nearly drowning her out, so Suzie focused on watching her lips instead—shaping words she couldn’t always hear. And that was the problem.

Even after Jewels stopped talking, Suzie’s gaze kept drifting back there… to her lips. Over and over again.

Slowly, they kept getting closer and closer to each other, until there was little space between them. Under the dim lighting, sound blasting in their ears, the swamp of people around them.

Suzie caught the soft floral notes of Jewels’ perfume every time she leaned in—and the closer she got, the more intoxicating it became. It was magnetic, unavoidable, pulling her deeper and deeper into Jewels’ orbit.

And Jewels felt it too.

Her heart hammered as Suzie leaned in, stopping just inches from her face, close enough for Jewels to catch her breath, close enough to feel her warmth.

She’d been waiting for this. Wanting it. Imagining it. Now it was finally here, suspended in a perfect, fragile moment—

Was it really this simple?
Was this finally happening?
Was Suzie going to kiss her?

Jewels’ thoughts spiraled in a million directions, the world spinning around her, her chest tightening with anticipation.

Suzie hesitated.
Jewels hesitated.

And then… Suzie pulled away.

“I… I can’t do this right now, sorry,” she murmured, voice tight, barely audible over the music. Before Jewels could react, Suzie slipped into the crowd, disappearing into the sea of bodies, leaving no traces she was ever there.

Jewels stood there frozen for a moment, yet to fully process what just happened. All she knew was it felt like she could cry.

Without thinking, she drifted toward the bar, ordered a drink, and downed it in one go. The burning sensation down her throat felt nicer than the ache on her chest.

The bartender raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing as she immediately asked for another. He gave her a look—the “you need to pace yourself, girl” look—but still poured one. This time, she sipped slowly, more out of necessity than choice.

When she made her way back to the table with all her friends’, she immediately spotted Kori and Lydia in their little corner. Normally, seeing them made her happy. Tonight, though, it stung more than she would ever admit.

Kori had one arm draped casually around Lydia’s back, her hand resting on the soft curve of her girlfriend’s lower stomach. Lydia leaned into her, one of her hands brushing Kori’s bare thigh, while the other held a glass they were sharing between them.

The blonde leaned forward to gently wipe a tiny crumb from the edge of the witch’s lip, and the witch smiled softly, whispering a quiet thank you only the blonde could hear. The way they looked at each other, the tenderness in their gestures—it was all so intimate, so effortless, so… them.

Kori felt like the sun—radiant, magnetic, impossible to ignore. Warm enough to draw you close, bright enough to blind you, dangerous if you strayed too near, freezing if you drifted too far. A force of nature.

Lydia felt like the moon—cool, delicate, quiet, luminous only because she reflected the sun’s light. But no less important, no less beautiful, no less powerful.

And anyone watching them could see it plain as day:
The sun shined for the moon.
And the moon glowed for the sun.
The rest of the galaxy was just there as a witness to their love story.

Jewels wasn't jealous—not really. She didn’t want what they had. She adored them together, always rooted for them, wanted their happiness. But tonight… the sight burned differently.

Tonight, rejection stung, sharp and bitter.

She took another sip, forcing a bright smile onto her lips and swallowing the lump in her throat. She’d save the tears for later, when she was back home, curled up on her pillow hugging her stuffed animals.

They didn’t need her sadness.
They didn’t deserve her bitterness.

But she wasn’t alone—not really.

A soft hand landed on her shoulder. Another rested gently on her lap. Sam and Lana.

“Hey, girl… you good?” Lana asked softly, concern hidden behind casualness.

“You kinda look like you’re about to cry,” Sam added, blunt as ever.

They were discreet, careful not to draw attention. The others at the table remained oblivious, but Jewels knew it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed.

“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a small smile.

Sam didn’t buy it for one second. “Yeah, no. You don’t look fine.”

“What about a bathroom break?” Lana suggested.

“I think—yeah, I’ll go,” Jewels said quickly, already rising from the table. The others followed after her, though she was too lost in her own head to notice.

Inside, she lingered at the mirror, staring at her own reflection. She searched her face for answers, trying to steady herself, trying to figure out what on earth was wrong with her — and how to pull herself together.

The door opened, and when she turned, Lana and Sam were there. They didn’t have to say anything; it was written all over them that they only wanted to listen, to be there, to hold her hand if that’s what she needed. But before they could speak, another voice cut through the air.

At first Jewels thought she was imagining it, the redhead’s voice echoing so clearly in her mind. But then she saw Lana and Sam exchange the same startled glance. They heard it too.

Without hesitation, Jewels pushed past them, following the sound.

On stage, under a wash of light, stood Suzie. A microphone in her hand, her silhouette stretched long and perfect against the wall behind her. She wore an elegant velvet gown, midnight black, fitted to her body all the way to the neck, paired with dramatic gloves in the same velvet, each cuff finished with vintage ruffled detail. Her curls blazed red in the spotlight, her cheeks softly flushed. She was breathtaking.

And then there was her voice. Melodic, commanding, yet warm — it drew everyone in, gathering the guests to the dance floor as if they had no choice but to listen. Suzie sang like a force of nature, and not a single eye dared look away.

“I didn’t know she could sing,” Lydia whispered, awe in her voice. She was tucked into Kori’s arms, the blonde holding her close from behind, her smaller frame resting comfortably against her girl.

“She doesn’t do it often,” Kori murmured back. “Onya asked her as a favor.”

Jewels hardly registered their words — she hadn’t even realized they were beside her. Her gaze was locked wholly on Suzie, her chest rising and falling too quickly, like the song itself had taken hold of her heartbeat.

Lana and Sam eventually fought their way through the crowd, catching sight of her. One look was enough — they understood. Whatever this moment was, it belonged to Jewels and Suzie. They stayed close but kept their distance.

As the music swelled, a realization hit Jewels with every lyric. The songs weren’t random. They were about her. Every note, every line, carried some delicate truth: how much Suzie thought of her, how much she missed her when they weren’t speaking, how clumsy she felt trying to show affection, how much she adored her smile, how deeply she wanted to open her heart.

Jewels stood rooted in place, drinking in every word. Her cheeks grew warmer with each line, the blush spreading until she thought it might give her away completely. It was a confession in disguise — and it was perfect.

After Suzie’s final number, a wave of applause washed over the room. She smiled, thanked everyone warmly, and announced that the eclipse was about to begin. Guests were free to head to the balcony or claim a spot by the windows to watch.
The crowd scattered in excitement, their voices and footsteps fading as they moved toward the spectacle. Jewels lingered back, waiting. She knew Suzie well enough to guess that after performing, she wouldn’t want to be in the middle of a crowd. She’d seek somewhere quieter, somewhere to breathe. Jewels was right.
Suzie slipped out to the back steps, a glass of wine in hand, settling into the quiet while gazing up at the moon. She was lost in the hush of the night when the door creaked open behind her.

The redhead turned her head slightly and paused, momentarily taken aback by the sight of her. Her breath caught — Jewels was radiant in the soft glow, her sleek black hair cascading down over a dazzling gown of deep jewel-toned purple, its cut-outs and sheer panels revealing just enough to steal her focus entirely. She looked otherworldly.

Without a word, Jewels joined her, sitting down on the step beside her. They stayed there in silence, staring at the sky as if the moon itself might whisper the right thing to do.

“I got your message,” Jewels finally said, breaking the quiet.

Suzie turned her head slightly, but Jewels kept her eyes on the eclipsing moon.

“I liked your singing,” she added softly. “It was beautiful.”

Suzie studied her, then looked back at the sky before replying. Her voice was calm, almost serene.

“I really like you, Jewels.”

The confession caught Jewels off guard. Her chest tightened, but her voice came steady.

“I really like you too, Suzie.”

Suzie let out a quiet sigh, her tone dipping with vulnerability. “I can’t help but feel like I’ll keep hurting you… making you cry. I hate it.”

“That’s okay,” Jewels said after a pause. “You’ve cried because of me too. That doesn’t make either of us bad people.”

“You deserve better. Someone who makes you truly happy,” Suzie muttered, taking a sip from her glass.

Jewels smiled faintly. “You make me feel every emotion — joy, anger, longing, heartbreak, everything in between. I’d take that over just being happy.”

“I’ll probably mess up more times than I can count.”

“So will I.”

“I’m afraid of losing you.”

“If you ever do,” Jewels said, turning to her now, her voice certain, “you’d better come find me until you do. Because I’ll always be there for you to find.”

Suzie finally looked back at her. Their eyes locked, their faces close now, tension humming between them.

“I’m serious, Jewels.”

“So am I,” she replied with a giggle that softened the weight of her words.

“I’m sorry for pulling away before,” Suzie whispered.

Jewels leaned in slightly, teasing, “You could just kiss me now instead — then you’ll be forgiven.”

Suzie laughed, but the sound was laced with relief. She reached out, cupping Jewels’ jaw, and leaned in. Their lips met under the glow of the red moon — their first kiss, gentle and a little clumsy, but sweet in its imperfection. Nothing about it felt wrong.

When they pulled away, both laughed quietly, giddy and breathless, already knowing — somehow — that everything between them would be okay.