#i would not be opposed to writing in a book to gift to someone if they wanted me to

[willowswiththorns]

Omgggg someone that writes Gilmore girls??? Could you do something for Dean Forester there’s like, nothingggg 👉🏻👈🏻 anything

Yeah totally! I’m gonna do a fluff A-Z but if you want any other ideas feel free to commission in! I hope you enjoy! - Willow

Dean Forester fluff A-Z headcannons

A = Affection (are they affectionate with you?)

Very affectionate

loves to give you a lot of physical affection ( hugs, cuddling, little kisses when wanting to give you attention)

But I definitely think gift giving is more of his love language

Dude literally started building a car for Rory only 3 months into their relationship

He’s definitely the type to spoil you in gifts , you’ll find a lot of handmade little trinkets like jewelry for you to wear.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Okay we’ve seen his other friends like with Todd, but definitely think he’s the type of friend that doesn’t require a lot of energy with.

He’d be the type of friend who’d help you with any maintenance around your house or car. He doesn’t want you having to pay anyone for work he’d do for free.

The friendship would start at school, he’d catch you reading a book or just sitting alone.

He’d watch you for the span of a few days, seeing you completing immersed in your book or drawing before having the nerve to come over and talk to you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

feel like in the beginning of the relationship, he’d only be the big spoon in order to comfort you.

Definitely later on the relationship he’d ease up and slowly grow okay to being the little spoon.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Seeing how his married life with Lindsey was, he’d definitely try to be the provider in the relationship.

He wouldn’t be opposed to be stay at home and cooking and cleaning while he works, but he does seem the type to At least try and help around the house when asked to.

Let’s just hope that marriage doesn’t turn out like his and Lindsey 💀

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’s definitely the type to try to hold off talking about his problems until eventually he blows up

It’s been seen in both his relationship with Rory and with Lindsey that when there are arguments, he tends to let out his bottled up emotions .

He’s definitely the type to have a big argument with you, and in the heat of the moment, he dumps you.

Instant regret on his part but what’s said is done.

He’d definitely be avoiding you for the first few weeks out of heartbreak ( even though he’s the dummy who dumped you)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ummm he’d want to get married very fast and we all already know how he is about commitment 💀 ( just keep Rory away from that man fr and you might be safe)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s kinda emotionally here and there, but he’s very physically loving as stated before. He’s the type to hold your hand and wrap his arms around you.

Emotionally it’s 50/50. Sometimes he can be a bit immature when handling any emotions that are more leaning to sad or angry.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When first being friends, he definitely gives side hugs since he’s not all too comfortable with being physical.

When you two have been in a relationship for a while however,He gives big hugs, very warm and welcoming.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Definitely three months into the relationship, he tends to rush a bit but the feelings are true.

He definitely wants you to know his feelings are there not just by actions but words as well.

He wants you to feel the same and let him know that you love him too

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets jealous very easily, and WILL get physical with the person he’s jealous of, especially if that person makes you cry.

Man will fight and win.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He kisses on your lips, your cheek, your forehead, your nose. He likes peppering you with kisses when you’re alone

Dean would like to be kisses on the cheek or on the lips, you can’t really reach his forehead unless you’re the same height. He wants as much physical attention as he gives you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s pretty good with children, having a little sister and all helps build some form of patience.

Definitely the type to swing them around or put a child on his shoulders to make them happy.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Dean wouldn’t want to get up early, he’d cuddle with you and have the blankets wrapped around you so you can’t escape his morning nap.

He’d make some coffee for you and give you his shirt to walk around the house with. He desperately would want you wearing his clothes.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Movie nights for sure. He’d buy some food and you both would hang out and watch any movie of you’re choosing ( that or he’d pick one of his favorites)

You’d both watch quietly unless one of you breaks the silence, then there’s chatting for the rest of the night.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Once he feels comfortable with you, he’ll open up about more personal emotions and thoughts he has.

Overall though he’ll tell you bits and pieces about his daily events.

He’s very much a guy who will tell you anything you want to know, but more personal emotions he might hold onto for a bit.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very easily angered.

He tends to blow up because he bottles his emotions in most of the time.

If there’s communication and no accusations then the chances of him blowing up are slim to none.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’ll definitely remember little things about you that you won’t even remember telling him.

If you like sci-fi or cars or books, he’ll keep that in mind on an outting.

He’s definitely the type to find stuff you like and gift it to you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Definitely the first time you told him you loved him.

He’d try to not be emotional, but he’ll remember looking into your eyes as you dropped those three small words onto him.

You’d definitely put a stupid, goofy smile on his face now anytime he thinks about that night.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s super protective!

Can and will beat the crap out of someone if anyone tries to disrespect you.

Dean will not tolerate anyone disrespecting his partner or making them uncomfortable.

He would 100% would go to comfort you after the discourse and make sure you’re okay.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dean 👏🏻Forester👏🏻 puts👏🏻 in 👏🏻effort 👏🏻like 👏🏻no 👏🏻other! 👏🏻

Romantic outings

Building you a car from scratch

Would take you out around the town

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He blow up very quickly

He also will try to hold it in so him blowing up will be very very stressful

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t really care too much how he looks

He just doesn’t wanna look dumb or uncool around you

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Very much so, whenever the relationship between you both grows, the more clingier he gets.

You’ll get calls and voicemails whenever you both aren’t together.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has most definitely at one point practiced kissing his pillow before trying to kiss you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn’t like someone who’s pushy or unhygienic.

He’s not into someone who doesn’t want to put effort into the relationship

And he’s not into someone who’d use him to get to others.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores and drools in his sleep

He’s definitely the type to love tummy time ( sleep on his tummy and sprawled out )

You will probably be crushed underneath his weight.

I hoped you enjoyed!! Commission me for whatever characters you want! I’m mostly doing A-Z headcannons until I’m comfortable enough to write . Thank you !!! - Tulip

[sweet-s0rr0w]

writing interview game

honestly, i very much doubt that anyone wants to read what i have to say about writing, but i got tags from some lovely friendly people (thank you to @garagepaperback, @citrusses, @arminaa8 and @wholahoop) so let's start and we'll see where it takes us.

how many works do you have on ao3? 31

what's your total ao3 word count? 368,607

your top 5 stories by kudos?

Nor All That Glisters 

Kept in Cages with @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (art)

Dreaming Skies with @tackytigerfic

Among the Elements

When The Party's Over

do you respond to comments? no, i'm awful, i don't think about it too much or i feel absolutely overwhelmed. i read and appreciate every single one though (except the draco simps complaining about glisters you know who you are) and in my dreams i will reply to you all one day.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? i don't really do angsty endings, although i did recently write a creepy timeloop fic! also, if anyone wants a laugh please check out the first bookmark on that fic, which is named After the Time Loop:

(also, 'a good enough fic' yeah well your reading comprehension skills aint all that either mate)

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? maybe kept in cages?

do you write crossovers? no

have you ever received hate on a fic? not just hate on my fic, hate on my fic that somehow led to me being accused of something i didn't do and basically ostracised from fandom for like nine months. wild!

do you write smut? intermittently

have you ever had a fic stolen? no-one would bother. though i think AI is stealing from all our fics right?

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! the lovely @moonletterss has translated several of my fics into brazilian portuguese! and by the way i had the nicest comment a few weeks back from someone who'd read the translation and came to say thank you to me too, so i'm super grateful to you moon <3

have you ever co-written a fic before? yes, i had the time of my life with @tackytigerfic on dreaming skies and my dream is to write a drarry with them one day if they'll have me. i think there are probably two other people i'd love to co-write with, but i'd be too shy to say!

what's your all-time favourite ship? so basic, but drarry

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? omg i started a fic many MANY moons ago which was actually supposed to be a gift for @vukovich with a fairly morally corrupt draco who works for vice squad and is sent in undercover to let some guy pick him up, and harry's his handler and has to watch him in frustration as he shows off for all the hidden cameras etc. not sure it's something i would write well these days but you never know!

what are your writing strengths? dialogue, pacing (i think)

what are your writing weaknesses? everything that's not dialogue, also i joyfully skip back and forth all over the shop when i'm writing a first draft which means i have to force myself to go back through in order afterwards to make it all make sense. there are better ways, i'm sure, but i really don't care.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? oh, definitely! what, as opposed to jkr's 'eet ees lucky zat 'e is marrying me'?? yes, no thanks to that. i'm sure i've had some french in there before, and i seem to recall asking people for italian and german advice though i reckon that was like book titles and not dialogue. but definitely i would!

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? oh god, f1, always the one that got away.

what's your favourite fic you've ever written?

nor all that glisters (i'll never not be proud of that as an achievement, especially given the pit of postpartum despair i was in), dreaming skies, or silhouettes

tagging: @tackytigerfic, @maesterchill, @kamaela, @shiftylinguini, @moonflower-rose, @epitomereally, @lemonlimelea, @sorrybutblog, @oknowkiss and anyone else and if you've done it pls lmk so i can hunt it down and reblog <3

[fandomworld9728]

I might have an au idea...

Lucifer is ruling hell solo because Lilith isn't around to rule with him(Either she's dead or she just straight up disappeared) and thanks to that situation Charlie isn't born(YET). One day he met up with a certain TV head upcoming overlord who just experienced a heartbreak from a certain demon ended up becoming quick friends with him but then A certain Radio Demon started to take notice on Lucifer and started have flash if visions from when he was alive when he's near the king and A certain Exorcist Leader started spying on the king for some unknown reasons and now the three have to settle this complicated situation themselves or else it would harm the king

(Oh wow... that is AMAZING! Excuse me while I write a quick sample piece based off of this-)

Vox:

Shit. Shit shit shit! Vox wasn't sure if he was lucky or being taunted at this point. What were the chances that his heart had been soothed just as quick as it had been broken? And by the King of Hell of all people?

How did the Overlord get himself into this mess you ask? Well, it was very simple. Vox had decided the best way to nurse heartache was to drown his sorrows in lots and lots of whiskey. So, he had allowed Val and Velvette to drag him to some upscale bar that the rich and famous of Hell came to get fucked up.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how they had managed to get in here. The Vees were powerful but fuck. They weren't even on the same level as most of the demons in that place. But he wasn't about to question it. He came there to get wasted not to think. That's how he found himself four drinks in and a beautiful blonde man next to him on the bar stools.

Vox knew he was out of this guy's league; however, he was just drunk and desperate enough to try his luck.

"What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone?"

He realized his mistake all too soon. As soon as those words left his mouth and the demon turned to face him, it was like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

"Y-Your Majesty! Apologies. I-I'm just-"

"Drunk and depressed? Me too."

While the TV Demon had been scared stiff and tried to stutter out an apology, Lucifer, the King of Hell, had just shrugged it off like it was nothing. And seemed able to read Vox like an open book.

Was it that obvious? Or was it because they were in a similar mood? If he was honest with himself, it was probably a bit of both. Well, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not getting in trouble for shamelessly flirting with the King of Hell and getting to look at the gorgeous creature next to him. Vox was gonna enjoy every moment of it.

His drunk addled thought it would be fun to push his luck. That's how he found himself discussing how they both ended up depression drinking. It seemed like they were in the same boat in a way.

While Vox had been trying to dull the pain of rejection, Lucifer (he can't believe he gets to call Hell's King by his actual name!) was there to try and forget for a night about the Queen's passing. That had happened long before Vox had even appeared in Hell, so it was quite a surprise to say the least.

From there, the two ended up talking about their special interests instead. The Overlord ended up spilling on how much he loved technology, especially TVs, and sharks. While Lucifer wasn't a fan of TV in general, he wasn't opposed to watching it every now and then. However, his face lit up with excitement at the mention of sharks.

Come to find out, the fallen angel was a lover of all animals. Though, his favorite were birds. Specifically, ducks. Vox wasn't sure why ducks and he meant to ask. But he didn't wanna stop him when he was just so adorable gushing about the waterfowl. If he ever got the chance to talk to the smaller man again, he'd make sure to ask.

What happened next, Vox wasn't sure how it happened. One moment the two of them were sitting, drinking, and enjoying just talking. The next moment, they were back at The Vee Tower. On Vox's floor. Sitting on the ledge to the opening to his shark tank.

The way his sharks had warmed up so quickly to Lucifer, and how excited and affection he was made something warm bloom in Vox's chest. His night wasn't going as planned but this was better than whatever his plan had originally been.

He had lost track of time and before he knew it, he was waking up in his bed. With Lucifer getting ready for the day and turning to greet him with a smile and a soft good morning.

Had he... slept here? The spot next to the sinner was still warm so yes. The King of Hell had slept over. In his bed. Right next to him. Why? Why did he stay? When Vox finally got over his shocked and asked him, he was surprised and touched by the answer.

"You seemed... like you didn't want to be alone. Like, you needed someone to just exist next to you. I know that feeling all too well."

Lucifer had left hours ago, after being so kind as to summon up some coffee and painkillers for his hang over. Seriously, this guy was too kind for being the man who cursed all humanity. Vox had yet to get up.

He just laid there, replaying that night and morning in his head. He was completely and utterly fucked.

Alastor:

Things were touch and go since his almost defeat by Vox. Alastor had been hiding away in the shadows until he had enough strength to properly defend himself again. It seemed his patience was rewarded.

When he finally came from the shadows, still heavily injured and dying, an angel appeared in front of him. Literally. The first ever fallen angel stood before him.

"You look like shit."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed, sire."

Alastor knew it was a gamble speaking to the King of Hell like that, but he was never good at holding his tongue in situations like this. His temper was short, and he was already dying. The worst that could happen was the king speeding up the progress.

However, it seemed he was more amused then angered by the Overlord's sarcastic comment. Kneeling down in front of the sinner, the fallen angel discarded his jacket and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.

Was he going to help him? What would someone as powerful as Lucifer Morningstar gain from saving a sinner like him? And how could Alastor even repay him for this? It would be a life debt and he hated being indebted to anyone.

The smaller man hadn't even touched him yet (not like Alastor was going to let him) and he already seemed concerned about his state. Biting into his own wrist, the king held out his arm to him, golden blood shimmering and running down his hand. Dripping onto the ground from his claws.

"Here."

This seemed.... familiar. Had this happened to him before? No. There's no way. Right...? However, Alastor could have sworn his reality had glitched for a moment or two.

For a brief moment, Alastor could swear that he was back in New Orleans. Sitting in a dirty alleyway he knew very well. A fuzzy image of someone crouched down in front of him with their arm outstretch to him.

"Hey. You need to drink this or else you'll die. Now isn't the time to zone out."

And drink from the king he did. Alastor would be a fool to let an opportunity like this slip by. After that, the sinner had been left all alone.

That blood had healed him right up and he was back to his old self in no time. Though he thought it wise to keep a low profile for the time being. Especially with being indebted to Lucifer Morningstar of all demons.

Alastor waited and waited for days, months, years for that debt to be collected. However, the devil never graced the deer demon with his presence. It left him feeling antsy.

How was he supposed to deal with this? It's not like he could just show up on the king's doorstep and demand for the fallen angel to let him prepay him for saving his life. Or could he?

That's how Alastor found himself watching the smaller demon. The more he watched him, the more fascinated (obsessed) he became.

Adam:

Adam didn't know when or he started doing this, but fuck, he couldn't stop. Sitting in his office alone, the first man was using his magic to spy on the man who made his living life a nightmare.

That little wife stealing motherfucker. If anyone asked, he just claimed it was for research purposes only. To help with the Exterminations. There were a couple of angels who didn't buy it, but it wasn't really an issue.

Lute, his partner in crime kept her comments to herself for the most part. Only speaking up if he spent too long watching the fallen angel or he let what he was viewing effect his mood and/or work.

Emily, the adorable Seraphim who reminded him way too much of pre-fall Lucifer, kept insisting that he care about the demon. Pfft! Please! As if! Then she had the crazy idea that Adam had a crush on Lucifer! Yeah right! There was no way!

And Sera. All she did was give him these looks and shake her head like she was disappointed in him. Judgmental bitch. Who cared what she thought anyways?

So what if Adam spent most of his free time watching over the loser? So what if seeing him all alone and sad stopped being funny and made the first man feel bad for the fallen angel?

Fuck. This could not be happening to him.

(Okay so I may have gone a little overboard with it XD )

[practically-an-x-man]

random ask in honor of Christmas Eve- what are your OCs' favorite holidays and how do they celebrate them?

Oooooh thank you!!

Rae: New Year's, her family always holds a big reunion and she makes a point not to miss it. She sometimes misses other holidays because of all the travel she does, but she never misses New Year's.

Robin: Christmas, for a similar reason to Rae - it's a big deal in her family, and one of the rare occasions everyone's all together. They always go to a Christmas Eve church service, and then Christmas Day itself it a whirlwind of food and presents

Madison: She wouldn't say Christmas Day itself is particularly special to her, but she loves the winter holiday season as a whole. She does a lot of baking and gives out treats to the neighbors, she tries to make the holidays the best they can be for all her loved ones, it's that whole cluster of weeks at the end of the year that are really her favorites

Ophelia: Rosh Hashanah - it's when she feels most linked to her family and to her faith, and even in the darkest points of her life she'd stay connected with that

Gia: Easter - it was a big deal in her family for religious reasons all her life, and as an adult it's become even more special to her because it symbolizes rebirth (plus, with it being in the spring, her clover is generally in good enough shape for her to attend church and participate in the holiday)

Jasper: Halloween - they love the chance to dress up and pretend they're someone else, and they always catch a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show (and usually drag their friends along to it as well)

Kestrel: April Fool's Day - a normal kid might have been upset to find that their birthday fell on April Fool's Day, but because of the nature of it, it's actually the day Kestrel feels the most "normal" by comparison. If every kid is being a little shit in the name of the holiday, the changeling kid that can't help themself doesn't stick out nearly as much

Katherine: Thanksgiving - her blood family isn't especially large, but the neighborhood she grew up in was incredibly close-knit, so Thanksgiving usually became a massive feast/potluck/block party - and of course, it helped that some of her neighbors would bring her little gifts like comic books or markers just because they could, so it almost felt like a second Christmas to her as a kid.

Quinn: Doesn't have one. Holidays aren't a huge thing in her life, and she doesn't mind that.

Eris: Vestalia - I did write a whole fic with this premise, but it's one of the few holidays Eris actually does celebrate on their own terms (as opposed to being included in someone else's holiday, which they don't exactly mind but still aren't as engaged with). It's the celebration of the home and typically involves a lot of food and alcohol, and it's one of the rare simple, nonviolent joys in Eris' life

Nikoletta: Doesn't have one. I think the closest would be Mardi Gras, mostly because she could participate in that one without too much extra money, time, or effort, while other holidays required preparation that she physically could not contribute to.

Jimmy: In his time, he didn't really have one. In the modern world, I think he'd be partial to Valentine's Day - partially for himself, and how he's finally able to express affection safely; but partially just because it warms his heart to see so many people happy with their partners

Spider: Holi... but not in the way that you'd think. When he and his sisters were kids, their mother tried to introduce them to the holiday, but somehow it devolved from a festival of color to... effectively a multicolored water balloon fight (his mother claims that was thanks to his father, who could never take things particularly seriously). Still, it became a tradition of its own, and he and his sisters looked forward to it every single year! In a way it was still accurate to the holiday, but at the same time it was the one day a year they were all allowed to run around, get messy, and throw things at each other without any consequences.

[abandonthefort]

for the wip ask game: Tinker Solider Butler Spy!!! despite my better judgment i do think le carre kind of eats (and approaches spywork from a much less romanticized way than TP does), so I'm super curious about that one!

Also would love to know the premise of "Jon dies in the middle" because it's a category of AU that can go in 1000 different directions depending on how you do it

Tinker Solider Butler Spy is....literally just my Coram backstory fic. Which...Coram isn't really doing spying spying....but he's...listen. Servants Hear Things. You can't tell me that Coram is not going around in the palace as Alan/na's manservant and not making sure that absolutely no servants think anything weird is going on with his kid??? (wait. shit. writing this out made me realize that i think part of the reason that Coram can't fucking stand George isn't just that he's a criminal, its that he's a criminal that Coram had to at one point get help from to protect Alan/na from being outed. so that spicy dynamic is going to be fun to explore.)

the problem with Jon dies in the middle is that i have TOO MANY ideas about how it will go. I would like to write several of them as short works; there's a couple things that i've thought that i went "long fic???" but i have thus far Exercised Restraint. It has been a herculean effort TBH and once i'm down to a whole ONE multi-chapter work I will probably come back to whatever idea i find most viable and interesting for a long fic). The one i've thought the most about is an AU of all of this can be broken because i'm wildly self-indulgent like that and let me just say: Revenant!Jon Does Not Improve Things, Unfortunately. (and boy, could things really have used some Improving) He is also acutely distressing in an interpersonal sort of way. snippet for Tinker Soldier Butler Spy below the cut! ft the dynamic i am softest for in probably all of Tortall: Coram and small children

Coram Smythesson was born in Trebond village to Harald, the blacksmith, and his wife Fritha, a maid at the castle who had worked her way into Lady Rufina’s good graces and had thus elevated herself. Rufina had been thrilled to find a woman with a touch of the Gift who was quick and delicate with books and had expressed tentative interest in their contents—she had always wanted an assistant and her brother had always declared (not incorrectly) that there wasn’t money for such follies. But a maid who could assist would cost no more money than one who could not, and better educating someone in the use of their Gift could only be of use to the fief. And it wasn’t as though Rufina had told her brother before beginning teaching Fritha to read anyway.

And Fritha knowing how to read was a boon to Harald Smythesson too—she could better keep track of his accounts and ensure he wasn’t being cheated by the merchants, even if he did not exactly have the time to better his own literacy. But Fritha had enough time to ensure her children could read, and it was easier to teach a child than a grown man tired from a hard day’s work anyway. But it would mean that Coram would be better prepared to take over his father’s forge when he grew old enough.

Coram wasn’t opposed to taking over for his father. He liked the forge even, the way it pumped out heat in the winter time and the glow of hot metal, the hiss of work dropped into the quench. He was not convinced of the use of reading, but his mother insisted, and there truly wasn’t much to do during the long, dark winters. He’d rather listen to stories, but Lady Rufina had found a book of tales from Scanra that she had allowed his mother to scribe a copy of, and those were well enough, and different from the stories that were told round the village, and that had rather sold him on the use of reading, particularly once he had to mind not only his sister Salva, but his brother Einar too. Being able to tell new stories that only he (or his mother, but she was busy, or any of the nobles, but they had no real interest in the village children, even if Lady Rufina did ask after them because they were important to Mother and she was fond of her maid) knew was a powerful method to get them to listen to him, or go to bed on time. It wasn’t the same amount of power his father wielded by being Father: big and strong and entirely unwilling to put up with any nonsense and expected his children to know better than the merchants he dealt with. It wasn’t the same sort of power Mother wielded either: sly and quick and entirely ready to catch any of them if they were foolish enough to lie to her, quick with a wooden spoon yet quicker still with a hug after their apology. But the sound of him reading settled Einar down. And letting Salva trace the words as he read, and then having her try to sound a few out herself and her succeeding? Well, it was the first time Coram had really felt he was good at something.

[cartograffiti]

February '24 reading diary

I finished 19 books in February, which sounded like a mistake until I realized I read most of them as audiobooks while doing manual tasks. It's always nice when my ears are on my side (says someone with a hearing disorder).

I like poetry, but I don't read enough to feel knowledgeable about it. I've been trying to read a bit from various countries, and after I enjoyed the Pablo Neruda collection so much in January, I went on to read three other poetry books.

Khalil Gibran's The Prophet is one of those works that I've seen quoted out of context so much that I was shocked to discover I didn't actually know what it's about. It's a series of prose poetry fables with a linking plot in which the titular prophet converses with the people of a city he is departing about different aspects of life. A lot of it is really beautiful and thought-provoking, and I thought it was great. It's become a popular source of quotes for weddings and inspirational goods, but I was surprised and moved to find it's also a text about multi-faith unity; Gibran was Lebanese, and Lebanon had and has striking diversity of religions.

I also really enjoyed The Poetess Counts to 100 and Bows Out, a collection by the important Venezuelan poet Ana Enriqueta Terán. I find her wordplay unusual and her subjects interesting, and even in translation, I found her work to give a powerful sense of humor and hopefulness, and a gift for creating a scene.

I did not enjoy Rupi Kaur's Milk and Honey. Kaur is one of the most famous living poets, and I had read so much praise and disdain for her work that I wanted to form my own opinion. There are turns of phrase I really liked, and it is laid out in an interesting way that means some related poems could be read either distinctly or as sections of a longer thought, which I found neat. But I found myself so grumpy the more I read of it that I ended up also reading a lot about Kaur and other people's analysis of her work, trying to contextualize why I bounced so hard off it. Many critics wrote about trying to separate her style from her content, and chose to praise just one or the other, but I am critical of both. Her style lacks personality that would tell me it was her work as opposed to any other poet's, and her content is full of basic, played-out sentiments of popular feminism and bathetic viral posts. Being reminded of "take me to a museum and then make out with me," "but they said not to touch the masterpieces," is not what I'd hoped for out of this. I do think it's a good thing and a strength of Kaur's that she is able to speak to so many people's common experiences through her clarity and intimate tone; it's a shame it didn't click with me. And unlike several professional opinions I read, I think she's completely entitled to write poetry that is not all self-revealing confessional pieces; that should not be something we demand of any art form. But it's a shame some of her verses suggest that certain kinds of shame and violence are a collective and integral part of womanhood and South Asian identity. She's only a little older than I am, and we were both students when she wrote these. I wonder whether her recent work is more sophisticated. I'm not motivated to find out.

The title of the Kaur book reminded me of some enthusiastic praise I'd read for Mary Robinette Kowal's Regency fantasy romance Shades of Milk and Honey, and I found that disappointing, too. I almost liked it; there's some great bits about making art with magic, and it's a good little world. The most interesting character doesn't get enough page time, a lot of secondary characters feel like flat loans from Austen, and the late-book resolution was forced and rushed.

In the Emelan group read, we finished! We read Melting Stones, an Evvy-centered book that I really enjoyed until it became repetitive in the second half, and feel pretty mild about, and The Will of the Empress, reuniting all the original kids as older teens, which I thought was just great. Pierce in top form, and one of the best of this setting.

Lois McMaster Bujold has a new Penric & Desdemona novella out that I haven't been able to borrow yet, but in the meantime I discovered there was one I missed. Penric is a physician mage devoted to an unusual god, which means he's benignly possessed by his demon friend Desdemona, and they have adventures and solve mysteries. This one was Knot of Shadows, about a puzzling corpse and curses. Great fun. Don't start here.

In the land of romance, I've been really enjoying Mimi Matthews's Belles of London series, about a friend group of interesting Victorian horse girls, so I read The Lily of Ludgate Hill as soon as I could. These are no-sex but sexy books with a lot of skill. I've been easily invested in each couple so far, the friends are well integrated into each other's lives even after resolving their own storylines, and their new beaus are introduced smoothly. More than that, there is a lot of consideration for the social issues and new ideas of the period. My favorite is still the first, but Anne and Felix have a strong second chance romance backstory and they're fun to see squabble and cooperate.

More romance: I finished another Gail Carriger novella, this time Defy or Defend. Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott in the Finishing School series was only learning to be a spy because her evil genius parents wanted it. Her actual dream was to marry a nice politician of not too much importance and be a domestic goddess and social power. Now an adult working for the government, her professional partner is also her perfect man, and she hopes he'll admit to mutual feelings while they're on a mission to rescue a vampire hive from dangerous disintegration. It's very much a Cold Comfort Farm or The Grand Sophy plot of a cheerful girl solving everyone's problems, which is perfect for Dimity: I love her and I love this premise. Felix's internal conflict is a bit of a nonentity, but I don't care, he's too busy adoring Dimity and taking the trans vampire to buy new clothes.

And the last romance for the month, The Companion by E.E. Ottoman. An extraordinarily efficient novella about Madeline, a writer whose spirit has been crushed by trying to break into the industry in NYC in the 1940s. A friend arranges for her to go stay with Victor, a successful author lonely in a too-big inherited house upstate. She is quickly attracted to both him and his artist neighbor Audrey, and they adore her. All three are trans, and the core of the plot is Madeline navigating these new relationships while settling into the unfamiliar safety and encouragement offered to her. In Madeline's POV, Ottoman very much treats the poly triangle as two distinct romances and a third observed at a close distance, which means doing about 2.5 times the work of most. I went wild for the execution, which felt like magic. You do have to like reading about people trying to write and cooking, which fortunately I do. Highly recommended.

A very different book about a writer that I was impressed with this month is Malice by Higashino Keigo. In translation, this is the "first" of a longer detective series that I can't remember where I heard about. That was to my advantage, because I wasn't primed for the premise, alternating between the deductions of Detective Kaga and witness statements. It quickly becomes apparent who did it, fitting best into the why-dunnit class, and using my expectations as a mystery fan against me. Higashino does not idly use an author as one of the POV characters; his profession creates a surprise that taught me something about how writing works mechanically. Very cool.

Also a book about books: Sunyi Dean's The Book Eaters. My oldest friend and I both listened to this as the audiobook wonderfully read by Katie Erich, and we both complained that the interview in the bonus material killed a little of the mystery for us. Despite that, we loved the main character, Devon, and it's full of interesting ideas. It's about a group of families who eat information instead of food. It's about...fairy tales and it has a unique form of dragon and vampire myths and a slow-burn escape from Christian cults. It's about figuring out you're gay when you're already a parent. It's weird and fascinating and upsetting. I think Dean made very smart choices about when to reveal information through flashbacks, and I think Dean sometimes over-explains things to the reader in the narration that would have been stronger if I was left to interpret them myself. L and I both think we'd be interested in another Sunyi Dean book, but not a sequel to this one. It is a complete concept.

I feel that way about Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obalufon by Wole Talabi, too. This one is a fantasy heist with lots of backstory starring Shigidi, who is a kind of minor nightmare god, and Nnemoa, who is a kind of succubus. They have gone freelance, breaking from the corporation of Orisha and taking their own jobs through the living and spirit worlds. I particularly like Nnemoa's backstory chapters and the heist, but Aleister Crowley is involved for some reason and much less repulsive than in real life, and I was disappointed the heist is a pretty brief element. I'd like to read another Talabi book, though, and this was the first adult book I've read that features the orishas of the Yoruba religion which have been a welcome part of several recent YA fantasy books.

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water is not the Zen Cho book I thought it was when I checked it out, but I'm glad to have read it. It's a wuxia novella about a nun and some bandits involved in rebellion, told with a lot of humor and thoughtfulness about the role of holy objects through the POV of a trans bandit with his own history with the nun's order. I love Cho's style!

That was a one-sitting project audiobook, as was a full-cast play recording of The Importance of Being Earnest. This is a sensational play that I had put off reading because I thought it had probably been overhyped. It hadn't. This is the source of a lot of Oscar Wilde's best quotes, and it's a jewel of drawing-room comedy and dialogue that operates on multiple levels of significance. I'm glad I happened to listen to actors doing it, which I wasn't expecting when I tapped on the first audiobook that came up.

More old books: I found an Agatha Christie mystery I didn't like! How sad! This was The Big Four, a series of spy short stories starring Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings, compiled together into a loose novel. The effect is somewhat disjointed, and not every story shows her ingenuity. It's full of 20th century political paranoia of conspiracies and spies, with anti-Asian racism and antisemitic tropes I can often count on Christie to avoid or subvert.

And Steppenwolf, by Herman Hesse, which is a very strange and influential work of literary fiction about a man who believes--not to minimize it by putting it this way--that he has a secret wolf-self inside him, much like certain middle schoolers of my acquaintance. The edition I listened to opens with a letter from Hesse in which he remarks that this book is frequently misunderstood, which I will admit put my back up. Maybe there's stuff in your book you didn't intend, Herman! I enjoyed its vagueness, I adored the complexity embodied by Harry Haller's friend/alter-ego/mother/girlfriend/boyfriend Hermine, and I got a lot out of reading literary analysis that gave me better context for the transmigration of souls and Jungian theory. It also suffers from didactic passages, racism and antisemitism, and dogmatism about artistic quality. Very worth reading, difficult to say whether I "liked" the book.

Carrying on with Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond books, I went straight from GK into Queens' Play, which I loved every moment of. It's easier to read than the first book, as she pulled back on stylized spellings and puzzling quotations, without losing any sparkle or punch. It's sooo fun. It's sooo distressing. Spies! Plots! Assassins! Disguises! Escapes! Messy bisexuals! I told my Lymond friends this book was funnier, but that feels like the wrong word for some of the things that happen in it. Giggling and kicking my feet and crying.

And a book I am very solidly neutral on: The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros, full of vibrant personality and a great premise, but the plot gets in its own way in complexity and the pacing was a real struggle for my taste. The core cast is really strongly varied Jewish immigrant characters in Chicago in the 1890s, some teens have been murdered, there's a dybbuk, and gay kissing. I think I would have enjoyed it more when I was a teen; some YA takes me that way.

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 23

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

Sentry barely processed the world around him until he had fully left the sewers, breathing in the fresh air of the city. Well, as fresh as the lower city air in Baldur's Gate could be. He made his way to one of the corner book hawkers, examining the titles available.

“Vampires are popular this year, huh?” He asked, picking up one with a dark haired, red eyed man in noble clothing on the cover. “But here in Baldur's Gate? You'd have had better luck selling one set in Waterdeep or Neverwinter.” He set it down and looked over the others.

“Well, this is fiction of course, but it's based on true events!” The Dragonborn woman whispered excitedly. “They say there's a nobleman in the city who is a real vampire lord!”

Sentry chuckled and shook his head. “Next you'll be telling me you believe there's a Bhaalist cult in the sewers and Sarevok Anchev is auditioning assassins for it.”

“Well, a vampire lord is less far fetched than that.” The woman folded her arms. “Are you going to buy today, or just critique, Mr. Ojeda?”

“Alright, alright Saffy, I'll take this one.” Sentry picked up one with a masked man on the cover holding a swooning woman in a fine bardic ensemble. “I'm finding myself more and more willing to try the romantic ones lately.”

“Someone special in your life?” The woman asked, gem-like blue eyes searching Sentry's face curiously.

“You could say that.” He paid and placed the book in his satchel, continuing on his way.

Back at Gortash's home, Bane's chosen found himself poring over old notes and stolen tomes he'd spirited away with him when he had escaped the House of Hope. Diagrams and old Netherese writings explained the artifact and its use, but none of that was helpful when he considered where it was, and of course there was no denying its location. After all, how many times had Raphael drunkenly ranted about his long desired prize being snatched up by his father for his own collection, 'kept as some museum piece' as opposed to being used to rule. But Raphael was vain, stupid, short sighted. Gortash was sure even the Cambion's followers knew that. To rule the hells was simplistic, narrow. Why not rule, well, everything? Gain the ability to conquer every plane of existence. It would just take a powerful enough being under his control, well, his and a partner's. He could not do this alone, nor would he have to. It would be fitting that the one who brought this idea back to mind, who inspired this plan with one earnest gift, rule by his side.

He spelled it out plainly as he could in a message to his Dread Executioner, deciding to use a blood red ink, knowing it would catch Sentry's fancy. The message was signed with the hand of Bane in the bottom corner, knowing names would be a poor idea to write down on such a message. He also paused considering what messenger could be trusted to deliver it, and soon his dilemma was resolved as the scent of rot and blood filled the air.

“So you are the Master's concubine.” A grating little voice disrupted his pondering.

“And who exactly are you?” Enver raised a brow, almost amused at the overdressed, diminutive being glaring at him from his fire place.

“Sceleritas Fel, butler and faithful servant to my Lord Chosen Sentry Ojeda, The Dread Executioner.” The little man sniffed with an air of self-importance, puffing himself up.

“Ah, I see...Then you can bring him this message. It is, after all, your job to see to his affairs.” Gortash smirked, sure to make the expression as condescending as possible.

“His....affairs...yes, and his affair with you must be ending! You are not of proper birth to share a bed with my dear, despicable master.” Fel huffed, pointing a gnarled claw at Gortash, circling him like a predator, but indeed seeming more like a small, disgruntled dog to The Tyrant.

“I hardly think someone of Mr. Ojeda's standing takes advice from his staff.” Gortash rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. “So, will you deliver the message or have you worn out your welcome here already?”

Fel opened his mouth to speak, then looked taken aback for a moment, ears twitching as though listening to something. “But...but master, I....” He cleared his throat. “Yes, very well. It seems my young master's father sees value in whatever this message contains. Give it here.” He reached out his boney hand.

“Good. I knew you'd see reason.” Enver handed Fel the rolled parchment. “You can return here with his response as soon as he's ready.”

Fel snatched the parchment, grumbling as he stormed back towards the fire place, disappearing in a puff of blood red motes.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Someone gift me baby karasu with a bow that’s the only thing I’ll ever reply with when people ask me what I want LMAOO

I def wanna see them pro but something about seeing the pro would also feel bittersweet to me somehow?? Idk like now that they’re pro we KNOW it’s over but errrr idk I don’t have a better solution HAHA im ngl I was into kuroko no basket for awhile but it was way after it ended and I almost died with how the fandom was kinda inactive and lack of content im just glad that since BLLK is ongoing now it won’t be as barren lolol

I would tell you to search it up but you’re gonna wanna burn your eyes after…I only heard of it via booktok (Idek how I landed there because I don’t rlly read that much now either nor do I interact or follow any book accs? Thank god I’m out now I wonder if maybe some ppl just went viral) but oh my god why would you think of writing such a thing??? I honestly don’t have an issue with dark content either since I think it allows more exploration of deeper topics sometimes but idek the door and pillow thing wasn’t even dark topic it’s just..??? ???????? ????? I don’t know what to say but you’re on the dot with weird smut

Im hopeful that s2 will def get things going again!!! Like pls fill up Ao3 too like why’s there nothing there.

You’re so right….a very good choice on your end LMAO he def doesn’t fit the arranged marriage trope as well and his canon ninja background was the perfect set up for this!!!

OOOO IM EXCITED LMAOAOA can’t wait to see tabieitaken hollyhock au style…

OOOOOO WAIT THATS SO COOL?!?! On my toes waiting for the next installment o7 (also for whatever reason I think it’s so funny when people go [redacted] I laughed so hard maybe my humors broken)

Oops I meant the cursed child trope in the sense that everyone (or those around them) believe in it LMAOAO I think it’s more interesting when people around them buy into that myth and make their life hard as opposed to just flat out actual misfortune whoopsie

KARASU APPEARANCE no because I was thinking too like…is Mira gonna add Karasu…or are we omitting for the sake of keeping karasu a main lead type of thing…LMAO can’t wait though!!!

-Karasu anon

BABY KARASU W A BOW all i want for christmas is HIM!! he’s just a princess fr i love him sm

watching a fandom slowly die after the source material ends is the WORST at least the anime/epinagi are much further behind from the main manga so it’ll be a while before it’s over!! some series do stay generally popular even afterwards so hopefully bllk is one of those 👆🏻

HELP I JUST LOOKED UP THE PILLOW ONE WTF 😭 that’s not even dark that’s just bizarre…where are these people getting their ideas from 😔

i feel like jjk also blew up heavily with season 2 coming out (although tbf it was already hugely popular) so i think (hope) bllk will be the same!! obv not to the same extent as jjk because whatever is going on there is like unprecedented levels of popularity but for sure i do think more people will get into it now that more characters will be there and there’ll be more content

YES like otoya being a lord or highborn just doesn’t have the right ring to it!! he’s too unserious i could not see him being dignified or dutiful esp not in an arranged marriage scenario where he doesn’t even care abt his wife that much. karasu or yukimiya 100% (more so yuki but karasu could make it work i think). ninjas tended to be lowborn/peasants too so it’ll be interesting to juxtapose him and y/n + show him interacting with a lot of the characters who ARE more noble (y/n, yuki, etc).

TABIEITAKEN HOLLYHOCK AU MY FAVORITE MORALLY GREY ASSHOLES 💖 there is not one good person in that fic (except maybe anri) just some characters you do root for and some you don’t HAHA i’m excited for all of the reveals and character development i think it’s going to be sooo fun

YESS it’ll be clearer once i finish the story where i got my inspiration from. i love drawing from history as an inspiration!! like ofc i’m not going to go word for word but it’s nice to have something that i can reference if needed and build my own plot off of. i def think it makes hollyhock unique…like a) it’s a fic w OTOYA as the main love interest (not the usual suspects itoshi bros) and also it’s set in a relatively unusual setting + is engaging with a generally overlooked aspect of that time period. like forget being a weak lady who falls in love w her arranged marriage husband 🥱 y/n is scheming plotting killing etc etc (or at least she will be eventually). i love mcs who are just a little Not Normal and i really think this y/n is like that!! as shown when she was completely willing to sacrifice her half brother if it meant living. like yes 100% he’s an ass but also girl that’s still an entire life you do NOT gaf abt 😭 omg and otoya when he heard her say that…bro realized he had finally found someone to match his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 💖 truly the otp we all never needed

ooh yes i do think y/n is a victim of that trope while she’s staying w the hiiragis!! although as much of it is just them hating on her because they hate that she’s such an embarrassment to them…i’m excited to show how other characters (otoya and co) react to the circumstances that make the hiiragis hate her!! it’ll def be interesting (and also a lot of it is based in actual japanese mythology/tradition…despite my disclaimer i actually do enjoy researching and sprinkling in details like that!! i just had that in there in case some historian type of person came to my comments freaking out abt how something or another isn’t accurate 😭)

i feel like karasu HAS to be there HAHAHA it truly wouldn’t be otoya if his bestie isn’t present especially since yuki exists in-universe too!! he’s also going to be super important to the story but it will break my heart knowing that things w him will never be romantic 😔 though honestly “romantic” is a stretch even for y/n’s eventual relationship w eita 😰 it will be intense and passionate and pining and many other such things but unfortunately with all of the political nonsense they’re up to (unifying the warring states and whatnot) there won’t be too much time for a healthy proper relationship. long story short expect a slow burn 😈

ALSO BTW I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE INVESTED IN THE STORY writing fics for random characters is sooo hard sometimes because there’s usually not a lot of engagement/feedback 🤒 as long as i have even one reader who likes to yap w me i can usually manage it though so i am very grateful for you bae 🫶🏻 doing the otoya nation a great service

[anneapocalypse]

I have a few ships for Ariane (she has a big unrequited crush on Minfilia before her disappearance, and a brief but intense love affair with Haurchefant up until his death; yes she has had very terrible luck), but her "endgame" ship is Urianger. They have a long friends-to-lovers slow burn, and Urianger was kind of a slow-burn fave for me as well! It was in the Heavensward patches that I really began to love him and pay more attention to him, and I truly had no idea at the time how well that was going to pay off later with how much wonderful character development he gets. He has become one of my favorite characters in FFXIV, and I find him both deeply relatable and fascinating to dig into in terms of the lore surrounding him. Also he's just an absolute delight to write, and I'm really looking forward to sharing more of what I've been working on.

I mostly prefer NPC ships for my character because I can write what I want for them and indulge as much as I like without having to depend on someone else's interest in the ship remaining as strong as mine. I'm a mostly solitary writer and while I'm not totally opposed to collaboration, or RP, when it's a ship I deeply love, it's nice to have it be my own space.

My husband and I do have an AU where our characters are together, but we haven't done all that much with it; he has NPC ships for his character as well, which I love for him.

I had toyed with the idea of Urianger as a ship for Ariane for a while, but it took some time to figure out how it would happen and when the timing would be right. It definitely couldn't have happened for them any earlier than it did, because neither of them would have been ready for a relationship. Ariane is grieving Haurchefant for a long time, and Urianger is grieving Moenbryda, and they both have a lot of complicated feelings about themselves tied up in that, with Urianger blaming himself, and Ariane blaming Hydaelyn. But in many ways it's that grief that draws them to one another.

Ariane wasn't close to Urianger when Moenbryda died, and felt there was little comfort she could offer at the time. The Warriors of Darkness incident was a sort of confluence of things happening for her. In saying goodbye to Minfilia she accepted that Minfilia had made a choice, had not been taken against her will, and that Haurchefant had made a choice too. And in seeing how long Urianger had labored alone and in secret, she realized he really wasn't okay and hadn't been since Moenbryda, and she thought, maybe somebody better like. Check in with him, now and then.

So from then on, and throughout Stormblood, every week or two when she could she'd take the aetheryte to Western Thanalan and stop in at the Waking Sands. "Just checking in" turned into "Wilt thou stay for a cup of tea?" and they talked about magic and books, and Ariane started bringing little gifts like a new variety of tea or a new translation of Far Eastern poetry, and it turned out they had a lot in common actually: both big readers and students of magic, both inclined toward the healing arts, both fond of poetry, both socially awkward nerds with complicated relationships to their families who treasured deep friendships but did not form them easily, and of course both having experienced great loss and grief in their lives.

When Urianger got pulled away to the First, they both realized how terribly they missed each other, and of course things got a bit complicated in Shadowbringers, and they might have confessed their feelings for each other a lot sooner had the Exarch's secrets not driven some distance between them. Ariane needed some time to be okay about it, and Urianger gave it to her. But they worked things out, and on the eve of the Scions' risky return to the Source, they did finally confess their feelings for one another and have been together since.

What I love about them is that even with how much they have in common as people, I don't think they would ever have ended up together if not for connecting over certain shared experiences. Both of them have loved and lost (my headcanon is that Urianger and Moenbryda were on-again off-again romantic, they definitely loved each other but it was complicated), and those earlier loves were no less real to either of them because they were ended by tragedy. Neither of them could have been with somebody who expected their love to eclipse all others in their life, or to heal all the wounds of the past just by existing. Love, and life, are bigger and more complex than that.

Almost forgot to add pics!

Chatting in the Waking Sands:

Making eyes at each other in Il Mheg:

Staying warm in Garlemald:

Another random WoLQotD/OC question

I thought I'd ask this while I worked on my other questions. :)

If you're a WoL x NPC shipper, what drew you to that ship and why? What makes that ship the pinnacle for you and your oc? Is it that you love the canon character you write them with, you find their dynamic interesting or something in between?

If you're not a WoL x NPC shipper, but you have a ship with another person, how did that come about? What makes that ship fulfilling for you? Has the ship impacted your relationship with that other person? Feel free to gush, I wanna hear it!

Oh, and pictures are a must (if you have them).

[hischiersjohnston]

Just Desserts (A League of Olympians Short Story)

SUMMARY

Sometimes, karma doesn't just come fast enough. So what do you do? If you're Grace Vandre, you get the rest of your team to help you nudge karma in the right direction and nudge it a little bit faster, that's what you do. Or: someone learns the hard way that trying to ruin Isaac van Doren's life with false allegations brings nothing but the wrath of the League (especially Grace's wrath) upon them.

WORD COUNT: 12.7k

NOTE:

This is the first ever original work I've ever posted anywhere. I used to post some fanfictions back in the day, so posting an original work is very new for me. Technically this story takes place after the first book in the series, but I haven't gotten around to actually writing the first book just yet (just a super vague outline). This short story more or less is just an exploration of the characters and their dynamics with each other, and the way I wrote it, it can be read independent of any of the other (future) works in the series. As of 07/24/2023 this work has only been crossposted on AO3 (under my username @/atvrvxia). I do not give permission for this story to be reposted anywhere else. For context: The League of Dark Olympians is a group of criminals who are hired by the Agency to track down and stop criminals who are worse than them. It's very much inspired by Suicide Squad (2016), Leverage, and even a little bit of Six of Crows. And they're called "The League of Dark Olympians" because of their codenames. And that's really all you need to know going into this story.

WARNINGS: none. just a lot of swearing and some mild threats but nothing too graphic

MOVIE NIGHTS used to only mean Twin Movie Nights: a once a month thing that Grace and Isaac would do together. They hardly get to spend time together now that they were older and had their own busy lives: Isaac was the CEO of van Doren Tech, and Grace travelled the world with her team of criminals, chasing after even worse criminals and occasionally conning a rich person.

You know, typical adult things.

But now Movie Nights aren’t just Twin Movie Nights; sometimes it’s Team Bonding Movie Nights, or Team Bonding Featuring the Twin Brother Movie Night. Tonight it was just a regular Team Bonding Movie Night, and it was hosted by Laurel (codename: Hephaestus or Heph).

Like always, Grace showed up at least half an hour early at Laurel’s apartment. Out of everyone in their team, the two were the closest. Not only were they able to talk about technology and machines with ease, but Laurel was the closest in background to Grace; who understood better than the others what it was like to be underestimated and what it was like to feel like you have to constantly prove yourself.

Safe to say, Laurel was like the sister Grace never had and the one she wished she actually had, as opposed to the younger brothers she did have.

“You know you’re not due to be here for another half hour, right?” Laurel asked as she opened the door to let her inside. Grace simply smiled and held up the brown paper bag.

“I come bearing gifts… mainly that gross beer you like to drink,” she said in lieu of a greeting. She also made a face at the mention of the beer. How Laurel can drink it was beyond her, but taste was subjective after all. Grace was more of a rum and coke kind of woman. “’Sides, I figured it would be easier to set up with two pairs of hands instead of one.”

She stepped inside the apartment, allowing Laurel to take the paper bag and she looked around the place. Laurel’s apartment was just so… Laurel. A lot of people who were well-off or came from wealthy families usually preferred a modern, minimalistic, looks-like-a-mausoleum approach when it came to their apartments. But not Laurel: her studio apartment was warm and inviting, and even though she had tidied around the place, there was still some of her projects that were laying about. One of which was on the coffee table.

“You working on something new, Elle?” Grace asked as she walked towards the coffee table and leaned down to inspect it. “Wait, is that a password decryption device?” Her eyes lit up, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have reached over to touch the item. But she had been around Laurel enough to know that she did not appreciate it if you touched her projects without her permission.

Dylan learned that lesson the hard way when they first started working together. It ended with him on his back on the floor, wheezing and promising he won’t swipe any of Laurel’s projects unless he was given permission.

“Yep,” Laurel answered, beer bottle cracked open and in her hand. She took a sip and gestured towards the device. “Go ahead and check it out. I’ve made some modifications so that it takes a lot less time to decrypt passwords. Figured you’d be the only one to appreciate it,” she smirked.

Grace chuckled. Wasn’t that the truth? She was the hacker (her codename was Athena), and Laurel was both the mastermind and maker. Who else would better appreciate such a device, other than the person who would use it the most? She carefully picked up the device, examining it closely.

Meanwhile, Laurel had turned on the television and changed the channel to the news. “Seriously? The news?” Grace asked, without tearing her eyes away from the device. She gingerly turned it around to continue her examination. She could do without the news, if she’s being honest. The whole world was shit; nothing new there. It’s been going to shit since she was a kid, and it would probably continue to go to shit until long after she was dead.

Laurel ignored the comment; not a single peep out of her. Despite her intense examination of the password decryption device, Grace can hear the news report from the television.

“… been arrested at her vacation home in the Hamptons for embezzlement and money laundering… Sources say that this had been going on for years,” the news anchor person said.

“Idiots,” she heard Laurel sigh. It was only then that Grace lifted her head to look at her. She can tell that Laurel was more or less judging the woman for getting caught, rather than embezzling from the company she worked at.

“Not everyone’s a criminal mastermind like me, or the others,” she reminded her.

Laurel cocked her head, raising a brow. “If you all were masterminds, you wouldn’t have gotten caught.”

Grace set the device back down on the table before she waved her hand dismissively, despite the now-familiar way her stomach twisted at the reminder of how and why she worked with Laurel now. She’d long since accepted it, of course. But that didn’t mean she liked being reminded of her failures. It was definitely a pride thing. Even if getting caught might have been the best thing to happen to her, she’s not going to just forget it easily.

“We still lasted how many years before the Agency caught us?” Grace asked innocently, batting her lashes at Laurel, who simply rolled her eyes and took a swig from her beer.

“Touché,” she conceded. “Anyway, you said you wanted to help out?”

The news was still going on in the background and Grace glanced at it, and saw that the topic had now moved on to… the increase in carjackings around the city. Considering that she doesn’t own a car anymore since this was New York City that she lived in, it wasn’t going to affect her.

“Yep,” Grace nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“Bring out the pizzas from the kitchen, as well as the sides. I’ve got the plates, cutlery, soda and cups all ready for us,” Laurel instructed her.

Seems simple enough. Grace nodded again and went to bring out the five boxes of pizza that Laurel ordered. The first time they had done Team Bonding Movie Night, Grace thought two pizzas between five people was more than enough. Then she saw how Will and Dylan demolished the pizzas. Ever since then, she learned to order at four to five large pizzas whenever she would be the one to host. “Oh, did you get one with extra onions?” she asked as she carried the boxes to Laurel’s dining table.

“Yes. I know how much you like your onions. I made them add a stuffed cheesy crust too,” Laurel told her with a grin.

Grace returned it with a beam. “You’re the fucking best, Elle,” she said seriously. She went back into the kitchen to grab the other boxes of sides: fries, potato wedges, fried pickles (which only Laurel would eat), as well as chicken wings and dips. She set them down on the table, arranging them so that they’re surrounding the pizza boxes, which were laid out across the table. It was a lot of food, but better a lot than not enough.

As she finished up setting the table, there was a knock on the door. Laurel went to answer it, and Grace followed her once she was done.

The door opened to reveal the remaining three members of the team: Morgan (codename: Nemesis), Will (codename: Deimos) and Dylan (codename: Hermes). Each of them were carrying two brown paper bags each. “More booze, guys?” Laurel asked with a grin.

“Don’t you know it, Elle,” Dylan winked, before he stepped inside. He bumped his shoulder against Laurel’s in greeting, then grinned at Grace. “Ace!”

Grace chuckled at the nickname, a warm feeling spreading throughout her body, before taking the paper bags from Dylan. “Dyls,” she nodded, smiling back at him.

She could feel Laurel, Will and Morgan’s gazes burning the back of her head, but she didn’t turn around to look at them. She was not in the mood to hear it. She carried the paper bags to the dining room, peering inside. “Oh sweet! You got rum!” And it was her favourite brand too.

Reaching inside, she took out the bottle and opened it. She grabbed a plastic cup, filled it a quarter of the way before she topped it off with some cola. “Well, I figured that you would be nicer with a little bit of alcohol in you,” Dylan spoke up, waggling his brows at her.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a fond smile that curled on her lips. She’s grown used to his teasing over the past year. And it wasn’t like Grace couldn’t handle a little teasing; her tongue was as sharp as her mind, after all. “And is this your way of saying you’d rather I be nice and an alcoholic?” she asked as she brought the cup to her lips.

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” he declared, before he took a fry and popped it in his mouth.

“Hmm, we both know you like it when people are mean to you, Dyls. You have a kink,” she shrugged casually, which made him cough.

“I do not!”

She simply hummed under her breath, believing she had won that round against him, and took another sip of her drink before she joined the conversation that Will, Laurel and Morgan were having.

• »»————-　➴　————-««

If Grace was being honest, half the time that they did Team Bonding Movie Night, she could scarcely pay attention to the movie(s) that they watched. Even when she had done these movie nights with Isaac, it was more about spending time together rather than watching the actual film. She was lounged across Laurel’s armchair, legs dangling from the arm of the furniture and working on her third slice of pizza. Her phone was on her lap and she was watching the others.

Dylan was across the room from her on the other armchair, while Laurel was in between Morgan and Will on the couch. Will was watching the movie intently; so intently that you’d think that he was studying a building’s blueprint. Grace had no clue why her cousin was so invested in the movie; it was a horror comedy after all. Maybe Will was trying to get ideas. Although she was pretty sure that he’s already thought of creative ways of murdering people, considering he’s a hitman.

She shrugged those thoughts out of her mind and went back to her pizza, but not before glancing at Dylan. His legs were pulled to his chest and he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched the movie playing out on the screen. The chair he was sitting on was the closest to the television, which caused the colours from the screen to reflect onto his face. Objectively speaking, she’s known that he’s an attractive guy with his dark hair, blue eyes and roguish smile. If he wasn’t attractive or charming, he wouldn’t be the best thief in the world nor would he be one of the best grifters she’s ever encountered. Grace used to wonder if Dylan was constantly faking his charm, especially when he was around the team; trying to get them to lower their guards down. But then she had come to see that he’s just like that. Of course he laid the charm on thick when it comes to a mark, but his friendliness and charm were genuine. She subconsciously bit down on her lip, before she caught herself staring; cheeks flushing.

Fuck.

She glanced again at the trio on the couch and saw that they were all still watching the movie. She let out a quiet sigh of relief. Grace knew she would not be able to live down the teasing from them if they caught her staring. She shook her head again, finished the last bite of her pizza and turned on her phone. Pulling up Instagram, she scrolled through her feed and swallowed.

Thank the gods above that she did, or else she would have spat out the bite she had been working on.

“What the actual fuck?!” Grace yelled in outrage and disbelief.

Her outburst caught the attention of her friends. “Grace?” Laurel’s voice— it was Laurel who spoke up, but Grace was glaring at the screen as she read through the post.

“Oh that mother—“ a ton of expletives in different languages slipped past her lips. Her grip on the phone tightened. Each word of that post made her sick to her stomach and simultaneously make her blood boil with unimaginable rage.

She liked to think that despite being quick to anger, she was almost always able to rein it in and be able to act accordingly. Plans were not made in haste, after all. It took careful planning and strategizing— she was a strategist. And yet, every cell in her body was screaming at her to hunt down Elizabeth Campbell and strangle the woman.

She forced herself to tear her gaze away from her phone. The more she saw those words, those false accusations— yes, she knew they must be false because she knew her twin brother like the back of her hand— the stronger the urge was to throw something at Elizabeth Campbell’s stupid face. And she can’t act based on emotion— it had never served her well in the past.

Her gaze landed on her friends, all who had their phones out. From the way that Dylan’s brows were furrowed, Morgan’s look of contempt, Laurel’s wide-eyed shock and the nearly imperceptible way that Will’s jaw clenched— Grace knew that they were reading the exact same thing she had read.

“Oh this is so messed up…” Laurel breathed out.

Grace’s hands clenched into fists and she had to force herself to take a deep breath. How dare Elizabeth Campbell blatantly lie? How dare she hurl a false accusation against Isaac? Take ten deep breaths, she told herself, before she can do something she was going to regret. She tried to focus on her breathing, but all she could think of was her brother— her kind, sweet, caring brother and what he must be feeling right now.

Despite being twins, Grace and Isaac couldn’t have been more different. He was technically older (by only three minutes and yet sometimes he acted as if he was three years older) than Grace. He was the picture perfect heir to the van Doren’s computers and electronics company: polite, charming, kind, intelligent… he was the perfect son. The perfect child. Growing up, it was clear Mark and Elizabeth van Doren favoured their eldest son over the others; over their only daughter and their three younger sons. She should resent Isaac. She’s supposed to resent Isaac for the love and attention he received, while she had been deprived of both.

But she didn’t. Because he was the only one of their siblings who ever stood up for her; the only one who ever gave a damn about her. Even when she had been disowned at fifteen, he was the one who tried to help her in any way that he could— whether that was leaving her a box of groceries so that she didn’t have to steal food or leaving her some cash so she can fill up on gas— he was the only one who ever cared.

The entire world could be against her and it had been against her for over half of her life. But none of that mattered because she had Isaac in her corner.

And now, it was time for him to know that she’s in his corner.

“As if it wasn’t bad enough she left him at the literal altar and ran off with another man, she’s now claiming that Isaac abused her?” Grace fumed. “Who does that? Who the fuck does that?” she exclaimed, waving her hands around. Cursing and venting helped cool her down a little— just a little. She was still very much seeing red at this point.

It was Dylan who spoke up. “Someone who wants to control the narrative.”

That was actually a pretty smart answer and the one that made the most sense. Sometimes it was hard to remember that for all his dumbass remarks, Dylan can be quite smart and observant when needed— you don’t become the best thief in the world if you were oblivious. But there were times when you could almost doubt him… and then he goes around and point out stuff like this. Of all of them, he and Will were the best at reading people; their motivations, desires and even their tells. She shouldn’t be surprised, but Dylan had a habit of constantly surprising her.

There was a loud crunching noise, and Grace turned her head towards the source. Morgan was standing there with a crushed plastic cup in hand; the remaining liquid inside the cup had spilled over her fist and dripped onto the wooden floor. She looked downright murderous. “False accusations to control the narrative?” Morgan asked through gritted teeth.

Grace had no doubt that had it not been for Laurel’s comforting hand on Morgan’s shoulder, or even Will’s gazed locked with Morgan’s, that Morgan would have flung all self-control out of the window, hunted down Elizabeth Campbell and murdered her within the hour. As furious as Grace was, as livid as she was, this was a very touchy subject for Morgan.

False accusations had a way of ruining people’s lives and no one knew it better than Morgan Wilson. Grace at least was able to rein in her anger, thanks to years of practice. But Morgan? She wielded her anger like a weapon. Too many times they had almost risked a heist or a mission because of her temper. It used to annoy Grace how hot-headed Morgan got. But she understood her better now. So if Morgan was going to seriously hurt Elizabeth to teach her a lesson or even murder her, Grace quite frankly, wouldn’t stop her. Or, ideally, she wouldn’t stop her. Realistically, she would have to stop her because then that would mean a one-way trip back to prison for Morgan, and also because getting physically hurt was not enough of a punishment for Elizabeth.

“What do you mean about the controlling the narrative?” Grace found herself asking out loud. If her head was any clearer, she would have been able to figure out the motivation behind the accusation. But the blood was still roaring in her ears and the heat coursing through her body had not receded. She can’t think clearly.

"It was all over the media when she left Isaac at the altar," Dylan explained. "People were not kind to her at all, calling her names and sending her hate. They called her heartless."

"And a few other choice words and names that are more accurate," Grace mumbled under her breath.

"So," he continued as if Grace hadn’t spoken, "her reputation was ruined. From what Grace had told us about her, she's the type of person to care about her reputation, her looks and her wealth more than anything else. She's trying to justify her leaving and cheating by claiming abuse. People would see her as a more sympathetic figure now and then Isaac would be the one vilified by the press."

They all fell silent at that. "And we know how the justice system works… It's not even 'innocent until proven guilty' anymore. The press already got wind of this and we all know that that basically means he has to prove his innocence if he wanted to save his reputation but even then… it would never be the same," Morgan snarled.

"And if his reputation is ruined, then it would also affect VDT's stocks, which would affect the employees," Grace finished. The anger had left her body, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. Was this what her brother was feeling right now? She should call him. But she also knew that since the news just broke, he would be talking to his lawyers and his PR team.

She didn’t care about the family company. She didn’t care about the van Doren legacy. She stopped caring the moment she was told she was no longer their daughter. But Isaac cared about the company. He cared about the people who worked for him because he’s a stupidly kind person with the biggest heart she knew. She didn’t care about those people, but she cared about him.

"So what do we do about this? We can't let her get away with this," Morgan declared, looking at each and every single one of them, almost as if daring them to argue with her. None of them did.

“Well, we have to be covert about it,” Laurel decided.

“Yeah. Which means Chloe can’t know,” Will said with a pointed look. Chloe Lacroix was technically their boss. She had been the one who had come up with the idea for the League and had thus formed the team. She had final say in everything, and Laurel was her subordinate; there to make sure that these criminals they hired would stay in line.

“It goes without saying,” Laurel sighed a little exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. Grace was quite proud. There had been a time not long ago when Laurel would have hesitated and outright denied them the opportunity. After all, their work ‘contract’ had a very specific clause about not abusing the immunity the Agency gave them for personal use.

“Guys,” Grace spoke up, sitting on the arm of the chair she had occupied earlier. “I appreciate this, I do.” Because being appreciative and grateful is how you feel when people want to fight for you and your brother. “But we can’t just act without Isaac’s approval. I mean…” She hesitated. “It’s his fight.” She doesn’t like it, of course. But they were adults and they were more than capable of fighting their own battles.

Will folded his arms across his chest, taking a few steps until he was directly in front of her. He towered over her easily, especially since she was sitting down. “So text him,” he said. “And ask.”

It actually was that simple. Isaac knew what she really did for a living and he had met Laurel, Morgan and Dylan; even hung out with them a few times. Of course her twin brother would endear himself to her team. He took the whole ‘team of criminals’ thing in stride— barely blinking an eye when Dylan swiped his watch the first time they met, and barely flinching when Morgan glared daggers at him for the first hour that same night.

She knew better than to text anything incriminating. So she took out her phone and took a few minutes to type up the text.

To: Womb Mate Say the word and it would be taken care of.

It took a few minutes because she kept going back and deleting what she was writing, before she eventually settled on that one line, and sent it. By the time she looked up, Will had gone and in his place stood Dylan who was peering down at her phone. She glared at him. "Must you be nosy?"

"I wouldn't be me if I wasn't," he countered. "And seriously? Not even a 'hey, how're you holding up'?"

"That's a stupid question to ask him, because I'm assuming he's not okay. Would you be if your ex fiancée leaves you at the altar for another guy and then claim that you've been abusing her to the press?"

Before Dylan can utter a reply, Grace’s phone buzzed. She checked the notification screen to see a new message from Isaac. She opened it and was greeted by two words:

From: Womb Mate Do it.

A smirk crept on her lips and there was a gleam in her eyes as she looked up from her phone to look at the rest of her team: Dylan was practically vibrating with excitement; Laurel’s lips were pursed, a calculating look on her face that Grace had dubbed her ‘scheming face’; Will’s arms were folded across his chest and she can see the way his hands clenched into fists; and finally Morgan with her narrow eyes and a tension in her jaw, her fingers still wrapped around the crushed plastic cup.

They were all furious on Isaac's behalf but they were all also itching for a chance to utilize their skills for non-mission purposes. Sure, it was nice to send horrible criminals to jail, but there was something so thrilling and exciting about using those skills to ensure that a regular person got what they deserved. It was feeling just like old times— when they were on their own and wrecking havoc where they went. The only difference was that they had each other now and they’re able to utilize their skills together to make the job easier and more efficient.

"He gave us the green light,” Grace declared, a warm feeling spreading throughout her body.

Elizabeth Campbell won’t know what hit her.

»»————-　➴　————-««

The goal was simple: expose that Elizabeth Campbell was lying about the allegations. But discrediting her was not enough: this was not just punishment for lying, but a punishment for ruining an innocent's life for selfish reasons. Elizabeth Campbell was a rich girl. Grace (as well as Laurel and Will) knew better than anyone that people with that upbringing often had skeletons in their closet; skeletons that they wished would remain hidden because if it was exposed, they would be ruined forever.

When she’s not working with the League, Laurel had to go in at the Agency and help out other agents, but she also did promise them that she would do everything in her power to keep anyone else from finding out what they were up to. So that left Grace, Dylan, Morgan and Will to do the digging.

Grace was pretty sure that Morgan, Laurel and Will had discussed a plan of sorts that ensured that she and Dylan would be paired together because Morgan was very quick to volunteer with Will on tailing Elizabeth, leaving Grace and Dylan to case Elizabeth’s apartment and bug her place.

It took over a week to properly case her apartment, and way, way less time than that for Grace to hack into the surveillance system of the building. It was necessary in order to put the footage on a loop; ensuring that neither she nor Dylan would be caught on camera when they made their way into the building and all the way up to Elizabeth’s penthouse suite, disguised as cable providers.

Dylan carried a bump key with him, which he used to let them inside of the suite. Grace immediately wrinkled her nose in distaste the moment they stepped foot inside.

Everything about the suite screamed 'wealth': the spacious entryway with the high ceilings and marble floors, floor to ceiling windows that showed the skyline of New York, the artwork displayed on walls, the state of the art sound system and TV along with a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The furniture was sleek and modern in the living room and the kitchen had granite countertops and top-of-the-line appliances. Grace hated it. It reminded her too much of her family home and the mere association made her stomach churn.

The two of them made their way through Elizabeth’s place, and Dylan let out a low whistle. Grace turned, watching him as he stared up at one of the paintings that hung on the wall. If they were in a cartoon, Grace was quite certain there’d be hearts in his eyes. There’s nothing Dylan Reeves loved more than art, that was certain. “Wow… do you know how much that Monet would sell for on the black market?”

She did, but now wasn’t the time nor the place. With a roll of her eyes, she reached out in front of him and snapped her fingers a couple of times. “Focus, Dylan,” she sighed, a little exasperatedly. “We’re not here to steal anything from her.” They’re just there to bug her place and hack into her devices.

A quick glance at the watch on her wrist showed the time: 2:09pm. Morgan and Will had both assured her that Elizabeth would be out during that time, as she had a yoga class till 3pm. The studio she went to was about ten minutes away, but regardless of how much time they had, she didn't want to risk it. "You have the bugs on you?" she asked Dylan, who nodded. "Good. Place them in her bedroom, behind a vase… Make sure every room has at least one. Even the bathroom."

It may sound gross, and it was definitely gross at times, but it’s been proven from experience that people talked when they were in the bathroom. And Grace needed all the dirt she could get on this horrible woman.

Dylan started placing the bugs in various places, while Grace went to find Elizabeth's bedroom. It was large, with an ensuite bathroom and the same view of the skyline from the living room. There was a glass desk at the corner with her laptop and tablet. Grace hurried over to the desk, taking out a flash drive from her pocket along with Laurel’s upgraded password decryption device.

She easily bypassed the login screen on the laptop with the decryption device, before inserting the flash drive. She clicked on it, downloading the software that would allow her to have remote access to Elizabeth's laptop as well as her webcam, which would take a while to fully download and install.

Grace then took the tablet, used the decryption device once more and downloaded the mirroring app, which she then hid under one of the apps that was already installed. It would be hard for Elizabeth to stumble upon the app, as Grace chose to hide it under one of Elizabeth's never-been-used apps before (according to her tablet's storage details). While waiting for the software to finish downloading, Grace found herself staring at the different photos framed on the wall, frowning.

"Okay, all the bugs have been placed in every single room," she heard Dylan announce as he came into the room, but she paid him no mind, her attention focused on the photographs.

"Come here and tell me what you see," Grace instructed him. Dylan looked at her and she stared right back, before he sighed and looked at the framed photographs.

"No pictures with Isaac," he commented slowly, chewing on his lip.

"Yes, but what else?" Grace prompted.

"I see… photographs of her and Frederic Astor, which isn't unusual since she left your brother for him and they’re in a relationship," Dylan continued before stopping short at a photograph of Elizabeth with a brown-haired man, a sharp jawline and an arrogant look. "Isn't that…?"

"A photograph of her with Adam Lancaster, the heir to the Lancaster estate and fortune in England," she finished. The Lancasters were an aristocratic family; very wealthy and had quite the collection of family art and jewels. Grace had stolen a few pieces from them some years back. They were wealthier than the Astors (who owned a chain of luxurious five-star hotels worldwide) and the Campbells (who were quite famous in the film industry) combined.

It seemed like a normal picture; the two of them at a gala with Elizabeth dressed in a low-cut gown and diamonds dripping from ears and wrist and Adam Lancaster in a tuxedo. But Grace saw more than just that. There was something about the way the two were posed together that seemed innocent enough, but her gut was telling her that something else was going on. There’s no time stamp on a the photograph so she can’t be certain when this was taken. But she did make sure to snap a quick picture of it with her phone.

"You’ve got that look on your face again,” Dylan remarked. Grace looked away from her phone, blinking at him.

“What look?”

“That look when you’re deep in thought about something. You scrunch your nose, you frown at whatever you’re staring at, and I can practically see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours.”

She definitely was not flushed when he said that. Normally she would deflect. No one wanted to know what she’s actually thinking about. Years of being brushed aside for your brother would do that to you. But she was also learning that Dylan and the others did care what she thought. They wanted to know what she was thinking about and her thought process. “I’ve seen pictures of them together before. But there’s something different about this one,” she admitted. “I just need to figure out when it was taken and then I’ll know for sure if my suspicions are correct.”

She looked back to the devices. Once the software had been installed, she pocketed the flash drive and the decryption device. "C'mon. Let's get out of here." Another glance at her watch showed the time as 2:56pm. "Let's hurry. Her class is almost done," she added as they both left the room, but not before ensuring that nothing seemed out of place.

Dylan locked the door once more with the bump key and then they exited the apartment building. Once they were outside of the building and back into Dylan’s car (parked a couple of blocks away), Grace took out her laptop and stopped the loop footage, taking it out and allowing the surveillance footage to operate in actual time.

“You think maybe she was also messing around with Lancaster?” Dylan asked as he began to drive them back to Grace's apartment.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “She’s a social climber. And Lancaster… he’s the golden ticket.” Never mind the CEO of a computer and electronics company or even the spare heir to a chain of luxurious hotels; the aristocracy was right at the top, just below actual royalty. Once you were in, you were in.

And she knew better than most just how desperate some people were to be a part of the elite.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Later that night, Grace’s laptop was turned on and connected to several of the monitors that hung on her wall: a real-time footage of Elizabeth's bedroom from the webcam, still showing a dark and empty room; Elizabeth's social media accounts and finally, her banking and credit card statements. Grace was looking through her own tablet, which she was using to look through Elizabeth's tablet, trying to look through her messages and emails.

"So she just… had her phone synced with her tablet?" Morgan asked. She had pulled up a spare office chair to look at the numerous monitors. Will and Dylan were both huddled together on the small sofa that was pushed against the wall— the sofa that Grace often slept on when she was too tired to go to her bed after surveillance. Laurel was perched on the arm of the sofa, also staring at the screens.

"Yep, and it makes it easier for us. We don't have to get near her phone, but all her messages, emails, notes… We can see everything as soon as it's synced," Grace smirked. God bless whoever decided to invent online storage and syncing all your data across all your devices. It made it a lot easier for her to get the information she needed.

She kept looking through Elizabeth's emails— dear lord did that woman not know how to read her emails? Nothing made Grace shudder more than seeing all those unopened emails; that number was way too high in her opinion. Elizabeth was an actress, so most of her emails were about auditions, although Grace can see she's been getting emails about being the spokesperson for a charity for abused women and other similar charities. She wrinkled her nose and her lip curled in disgust at that, before she moved on to other emails.

That being said, the photograph of Elizabeth and Adam Lancaster was still lingering in her mind. “Hey, Will?” she called out, looking away from the emails to look at her cousin. “Any chance you and Morgan saw Elizabeth meeting up with Adam Lancaster?”

"Lancaster?" Will echoed, narrowing his eyes as he raised his head to meet her gaze. Of course he knew who Lancaster was; she’s pretty sure that he had gotten into a physical altercation with him when they were younger. Not that Grace blamed him: Adam Lancaster was completely unbearable to be around. How he was related to someone like Adelaide Lancaster, who so disgustingly kind-hearted and sweet was beyond her.

“Adam Lancaster? Of the Lancaster estate?” Laurel questioned, raising a brow at Grace.

“The very same one,” Grace confirmed. Of course Laurel would know of him: her family ran in the same circles as the van Dorens. Except, while the van Dorens were old money in America, the Beauforts were old money from France that had only moved to America in the late nineties.

"Give me a second…" he began to flip through his notes, stopping after a few moments. "Where’s he currently residing at?"

Grace put her tablet down on the table before taking her laptop. She first went on social media, easily finding Adam Lancaster's Instagram page. "So he's definitely in New York City," she announced, seeing the geotag on his latest post, which was dated a couple of days ago. She went through a few more posts, looking at the dates and the geotags. "Looks like he's been here for a couple of months, which means…" She pulled up the DMV database and began doing a search. Almost instantaneously, his American driver's license popped up. "He's staying at the Rivereast, probably renting or owns an apartment there. It's on 92nd in the Upper East Side."

"Well fuck me," Morgan breathed out as she looked at Will. Grace caught the way Laurel was staring a little too long at Morgan when she said those words, but she also saw the way Will was eyeing Morgan. Huh. Interesting. There was a tease to be said there, but now wasn’t the time nor the place. "We saw her go there a couple of days ago but we had no clue who she might have been visiting. She went in there for about a couple of hours then left."

"So she's cheating on Astor with Lancaster," Dylan deduced.

"It makes sense. Frederic Astor may have come from old money but Adam Lancaster comes from an aristocratic family," Will pointed out. "And Lancaster is the heir to his family estate; Astor's not even close to inheriting it, since the chain of Waldorf-Astoria hotels is owned by his cousin, Wyatt."

Grace then exited the DMV database and went back to the tablet, trying to see if she could find any messages between Elizabeth and Lancaster, but found nothing. "Alright, no messages between them to confirm anything; not even on her socials. They follow each other, but that's about it…" she trailed off before shrugging. "If she makes any calls to him while she's at her apartment, I can definitely listen in and record them. But just to be safe, Will and Morgan, can you continue to tail her and try to get evidence of the cheating?"

"Yeah, for sure," Will nodded in agreement, as did Morgan.

"It's getting late," Laurel interrupted. "We should probably get some rest.” A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed that it was a little after midnight. They’ve spent hours pouring over the information they’ve gotten and it wasn’t a bad start, since they’ve deduced Elizabeth having an affair.

Everyone left after that, but not without saying their goodbyes. Laurel was the last one to leave, and she gave Grace a comforting hug, which she awkwardly returned. She’s still getting used to physical affection, but she was getting better at it, she liked to think.

Grace glanced at the footage on her laptop from the webcam in Elizabeth's room, still empty and dark. There was no noise, no audio being transmitted by the bugs into her laptop either. Grace pulled up an audio recorder on her laptop and pressed 'record'. That way, if Elizabeth did make any sound or call anyone, she could still listen the next day. Grace was nothing if not prepared and she was determined to get the proof that Elizabeth was lying about the abuse allegations, no matter how long it would take.

But she can’t sleep. Not yet. There’s still too much adrenaline coursing through her veins and she’s determined to find more of the dirt that Elizabeth Campbell was surely hiding. She wasn’t just going to humiliate her by exposing her affair. That was too nice, too tame for what she did to the most important person in Grace’s life.

No; Grace was going to destroy her.

»»————-　➴　————-««

A couple of nights later, Will and Morgan returned to Grace's apartment with the photographs taken from the digital camera they brought with them. Grace was elated and began looking through them. All of the photos were taken in broad daylight so there was no denying their identities: there were a few of them holding hands and looking too close to be just friendly, and several of them kissing, along with a couple of them going into a motel room and a few of them on their way out. Each photo taken had a date and time-stamp solidifying proof that the photos were recent. "Good job guys," Grace grinned as she looked up from the camera.

"So when are we sending the photographs?" Will asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"We need proof of her lying about the allegations first. I can't believe that's the one taking forever for us to find proof of. I figured she'd be going on and on about it to a friend or something," Grace complained. "Seriously; I listened to her rip her assistant a new one because the girl brought her a cup of coffee with regular milk instead of almond milk." If she hadn't despised Elizabeth Campbell before, she certainly did now. "And don't even get me started about the couture talk!"

"Sucks for you," Dylan smirked from his place on the living room couch, ignoring Grace flipping him off. He was on his phone, playing Candy Crush while Grace had been looking over at the photos. She can confirm it was Candy Crush because of all the sound effects she’s been hearing. It used to irritate her, hearing these sounds and all the noises that came with working in a team. She had been far too used to quiet her entire life. Now though, it was welcoming, because it meant that she wasn’t alone.

Laurel, unfortunately, was not there that night. Something about working overtime and having to deal with the paperwork from that other mission she was supervising on. Although Grace did make sure to keep her updated on everything using a burner phone.

There was something else too that she required Laurel’s help with, and thankfully, she had given Grace the names of some contacts who can help her out. She had sworn on her skateboard collection that Grace won’t be in trouble with this person and she won’t tell the others about it until the time was right. Considering that Grace knew how much Laurel treasured her skateboard collection, she believed her.

"What I don't get is why someone who's all about the high-end life check into a motel like that," Morgan commented as she went to Grace's fridge and took out a bottle of beer. She took out her pocket knife and used the bottle opener part to take off the cap, before taking a long swig from it.

"Counter-measure," Will replied as he moved to sit beside Dylan. "Famous people who have affairs definitely use motels to make sure paps don't catch them. 'Cause who would think that someone rich would willingly check into a dumpy motel when they can be at a five-star hotel?"

"Rich people, I swear to God," Morgan huffed, shaking her head. She moved to sit down beside Will, who was now wedged between Dylan and Morgan on the couch. “The things they do to hide their affairs.”

"Tell me about it," Grace replied wryly, before going back to listening to the audio tapes and hoping that Elizabeth could just talk to someone about the allegations and explicitly state that they were false. This part was the one she hated the most— the waiting. But she had to push through because she was doing this for her brother. He had been patient with her for over thirty years (and it was not an easy anything when Grace was involved); she can afford to attempt being patient for another few weeks or however long it took to get the proof that he didn't hurt his ex.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Four more days.

That was how long it took.

Four more days of eavesdropping and having to endure listening to rants about the incompetence of her assistant, the snarky comments about her so-called friends and the incredibly disgusting phone sex with Frederic Astor (Grace felt the urge to wash her ears with holy water after that). That was how long it took before Grace got the proof she so desperately desired. Once she realized that Elizabeth had called her best friend Maya Johnson (some trust fund baby she barely knew anything about), she immediately began to record the audio. Lucky for her, Elizabeth had put Maya on speaker phone, so Grace can hear both ends of the conversation.

MAYA: Elizabeth, babe! So, what's the deal with you and van Doren? Did he like, seriously hurt you? I mean, you should have seen it coming, Elle. Like he's got a freaking psychopath for a cousin and wasn't his twin sister like, psycho too? Didn't she like, throw a drink at someone and ruined their attire? That entire family is just psycho as hell!

Grace rolled her eyes and scoffed. Like she hadn't heard that one before. Still, she felt mildly offended that Maya Johnson was calling her 'psycho' over something so trivial.

If anything, she should be considered psycho for other things she had done. But throwing a drink on someone was so… not grounds for being psycho. Although Maya calling Will a ‘psychopath’ made her frown. You could say whatever you wanted about her, but she drew the line at insulting or talking shit about the people she cared for. Did Will have anger issues and post-traumatic stress from his time as a Navy SEAL? Yes. But that definitely didn’t make him a psychopath. If only she could jump in and correct these two idiots who clearly lacked the presence of a braincell. But, she needed to keep quiet since the conversation was being recorded.

ELIZABETH: C'mon Maya. As if he could ever hurt me. MAYA: But didn't you say that he did? ELIZABETH: Of course I said that. Isaac isn't capable of hurting anyone even if he tried. He's too soft for my taste. I mean seriously; I tried to get him to choke me or tie me up in bed and he wouldn't even agree to do it.

Grace made a face and nearly gagged. She did not need to hear about her brother’s preferences in bed or his non-preferences. Nope. She was sorely tempted to tap out of this conversation, but she steeled herself and powered through. You’re doing this for your brother, she told herself. Do it for Isaac.

MAYA: So he never even hurt you? ELIZABETH: Not even once. I just said that so people would like, stop coming to his support. Do you know how many producers took back offers for roles when I left him at the altar and my reputation pretty much tanked? One of them even said that they can't even hire me for the role because people would see me as the lead and immediately give shit reviews. Now, I'm getting so many offers and I think someone even offered to do a biopic for me. MAYA: Well, sucks to suck for him. That's pretty smart of you to do though. It's your word against his and you know how easy it is to believe that a woman is being hurt by a guy. ELIZABETH: I know, right?

Grace tuned out the rest of the conversation. Her hands had clenched into fists and were shaking. It wasn't even just about Isaac anymore; Grace was completely disgusted at the utter lack of care and remorse that Elizabeth had about lying about being abused. She might not have been the model citizen or even the nicest person in the world, but she would never claim to be abused or even raped by someone when nothing ever happened. Those were serious allegations and Elizabeth just didn't care. There were women who were actually being abused being too scared to speak up because they feared they wouldn't be believed by authorities and someone like Elizabeth had the audacity to lie about it?

She took a few deep breaths in an attempt to quell her anger. It would do no good for her to lose her cool. Besides, she got the proof and that was what was important. She waited until the call was over before pressing the ‘stop recording’ button.

Grace saved that audio file into her folders, before deactivating the bugs in Elizabeth's apartment. She then grabbed the digital camera that contained photos of Elizabeth and Adam Lancaster's affair, plugged it into her laptop and downloaded the photos. Once they had been downloaded, she began to compose an email to her contacts who were journalists and bloggers, attaching the photographs of the affair.

The moment she hit ‘send’ and she heard the little ‘whoosh’ sound that came with sending an email successfully, she leaned back against her chair and smirked.

Phase One was complete.

»»————-　➴　————-««

LATEST NEWS: HEIR ADAM LANCASTER AND ACTRESS ELIZABETH CAMPBELL SPOTTED TOGETHER IN NEW JERSEY! WHERE IS FREDERIC ASTOR?

LADIES: IT SEEMS THAT HEIR ADAM LANCASTER IS OFF THE MARKET!

WHERE IS FREDERIC ASTOR AND WHAT DOES HE THINK OF THE LANCASTER-CAMPBELL AFFAIR?

DISCULTURE 🗸 @disculturenews ● 17 hours ago ( 09/06/2023 ) [photo] [photo] Adam Lancaster and actress Elizabeth Campbell are caught locking lips! Does this mean that she and Frederic Astor have called it quits? 12k replies 24k retweets 64k likes

↳ emma (taylor’s version) @emmaswiftie293 ● 16 hours ago

if they’ve called it quits, wouldn’t they have announced it or something?? plus, she was just seen with frederic a couple of weeks ago out on a date

↳ jenny loves 21 days of anarchy @21doafanforever ● 16 hours ago

girly either moves fast or she’s been cheating because the math ain’t mathing

↳ joaquim nowak stan account @criticizerule ● 13 hours ago

calling it now: she’s totally cheating on him! she has a history of cheating, didn’t she???

↳ ethan sanders is my husband @peachpride ● 12 hours ago

well for that one, she had an excuse: @isaacvd was ab*sing her and hurting her!!

↳ joaquim nowak stan account @criticizerule ● 12 hours ago

so what’s her excuse now??

monica higgins @flyroughly ● 5 hours ago ( 09/08/2023 ) [video] [video] no way guys, this is insane bc?? @fredericastorofficial1 straight up threw a f*cking tantrum so this means that @ellecampbellxox was totally cheating on him!! 8k replies 15k retweets 25k likes ↳ ethan sanders is my husband @peachpride ● 4 hours ago

@ellecampbellxox : so was @fredericastorofficial hurting you too??

TROUBLE IN PARADISE? ADAM LANCASTER SPOTTED IN HEATHROW AIRPORT WITHOUT HIS BOMBSHELL ACTRESS PARAMOUR

ELIZABETH CAMPBELL IN NEW YORK LOOKING WORSE FOR WEAR: DID SHE CHEAT ON FREDERIC ASTOR OR WAS SHE CHEATING ON ADAM LANCASTER ALL ALONG?

marry me elian barnes @bulletbeachstan ● 1 hour ago ( 09/09/23 ) so anyone else find it kinda weird that @isaacvd hasn’t done any sort of meeting or conference yet?? i mean his ex went and told the entire world that he was hurting her and he didn’t say anything?? and now that his ex is revealed to have been cheating on two guys, still nothing?? 80 replies 2k retweets 3k likes ↳ joaquim nowak stan account @criticizerule ● 58 minutes ago

i don’t think it’s weird but it is a little concerning and confusing. he should be setting the record straight but he hasn’t done or said anything yet. altho personally i’m beginning to think that maybe the allegations were false because if she can cheat twice… who’s to say she won’t lie?

↳ marry me elian barnes @bulletbeachstan ● 46 minutes ago

no i get it! i know he doesn’t owe anyone anything, but from a business standpoint, he should say something. and i’m with you. getting the vibes that she might be lying and she hadn’t said anything about frederic hurting her… it’s all just weird and sus to me.

»»————-　➴　————-««

If there was something Grace loved, it was watching how the media ran with stories, especially gossip stories. The Lancaster-Campbell affair dominated social media; trending for a good week before everyone eventually forgot about it and jumped onto the next scandal. Nevertheless, the damage was done.

But Grace wasn’t finished just yet. Now that Phase One was done, she was moving onto Phase Two.

About three weeks after the first round of stories about the affairs circulated the internet, the same journalists and bloggers who posted about the affair opened their inboxes to see an email sent to them with no message and only an audio file attached to it. The subject line simply said "Listen Now". Each of the people who received the messages downloaded the file and listened. Once they were done, they all began to write and within hours, the first round of articles were posted and began to circulate the internet.

»»————-　➴　————-««

ELIZABETH CAMPBELL: EXPOSED AS CHEATER AND LIAR

CAMPBELL REFUSES TO ANSWER QUESTIONS REGARDING LEAKED AUDIO

DIOR ANNOUNCES SEVERANCE OF TIES WITH ELIZABETH CAMPBELL; CONDEMNS ACTIONS AND LIES

DISCULTURE 🗸 @disculturenews ● 10 hours ago ( 09/26/2023 ) [audio] [audio] Shocking! Leaked audio clips reveal that actress Elizabeth Campbell had lied about the abuse allegations against CEO Isaac van Doren. 24k replies 50k retweets 75k likes

↳ carbonora is the best pasta change my mind @pastaismylife ● 9 hours ago

holy shit… listening to this audio and i’m completely and utterly disgusted?? how remorseless and coldhearted can you be?

↳ linda harrison @lindaharrison1 ● 7 hours ago

i liked to think that no one was ever really evil, but holy fuck @ellecampbellxox just proved me wrong

↳ connor loves kat evans @katevansstanforever ● 6 hours ago

right?? like how heartless can a person be??

HAUNTED MOVIE OFFICIAL 🗸 @hauntedmovieofficial ● 5 hours ago ( 09/27/2023 ) Due to recent revelations, we will be recasting the role of Anya. The role will now be played by the talented @aileenrhodes who had blown us away with her talent. Welcome to the #HauntedFamily Aileen! 2k replies 40k retweets 25k likes ↳ anya ivanova is the love of my life @bookscooksandsocks ● 4 hours ago

oh thank god!! i’ve seen @aileenrhodes ‘ previous projects and can honestly say she’s a much better anya than @ellecampbellxox could ever be

↳ cordelia barnes @ deliabarnes872 ●1hour ago

right?? pretty sure a lot of roles that @ellecampbellxox got were not deserved at all! @aileenrhodes you’re going to kill it as anya &lt;3

↳ aileen rhodes @aileenrhodes ● 10 minutes ago

ty delia&lt;3

Elizabeth Campbell 🗸 @ellecampbellxox ● 4 hours ago ( 09/27/2023 ) no room in life for fake friends who take what was said in confidence, twist your words and spill them out into the world. 24k replies 50k retweets 10klikes ↳ joaquim nowak stan account @criticizerule ● 4 hours ago

wow, you are so delusional?? i really hope that you learn your lesson someday.

↳ ethan sanders is my husband @peachpride ● 3 hours ago

@ellecampbellxox hang in there girl!! the ‘leaked’ audio was probably doctored or faked. anything is possible with the technology today!!

↳ dominik nowak thirst bot @fasterthanabullet ● 3 hours ago

why do you keep kissing her ass?? she’s never going to notice you.

TRANSCRIPT FROM ISAAC VAN DOREN’S MEDIA CONFERENCE ON 09/28/30 IN FRONT OF VAN DOREN TECH HQ

[ISAAC VAN DOREN stands behind a podium that was set up in front of the entrance of VDT HQ. Cameras are flashing in his face; questions are being thrown at him by everyone. he looks somber, but not unhealthy] ISAAC: [raises his hand and everyone instantly quiets down] I didn't want to hold a press conference when these allegations against me were presented to the media nearly a month and a half ago. I know people would think that I was only going to do that to try and save face; to deny the allegations. [pause; everyone is quiet. he looks at the crowd that had gathered before him] Because if I deny, then it would just prove my guilt; that's how we do things now don't we? We presume someone is guilty until they are proven innocent. And the truth is, I never laid a hand on Elizabeth. I had loved her enough to ask her to marry me. [he pauses and takes a shaky breath] When I first heard about her claims, I was confused, more than anything. What had I done to her to make her hate me so much, when all I ever did was love her and try to make her happy? [he blinks several times; eyes shining with tears; clears his throat and stares into one of the cameras] For the longest while, I asked myself that question. And having heard that audio… Well, I don't know if it would ever bring me any sort of closure. I was told that… forgiveness was the way to go, so Elizabeth if you are listening or watching this.. [he breaths a little shakily; tear rolling down his cheek and small sad smile] I forgive you. [silence for a few moments, before noise breaks out] RANDOM REPORTER: So you had nothing to do with the conversation being leaked? ISAAC: [wipes away tear and looks at the reporter in genuine confusion] I genuinely had nothing to do with it. How could I? I haven't spoken to her nor been around her since she left me at the altar. [clears his throat] I’m afraid that’s all I have time for today. No more questions. [turns around and heads back into the building, ignoring more questions being shouted at him]

sage becker @sagelybecks ● 2 hours ago ( 09/28/2023 ) [video of van Doren conference] kind of wild but also he’s not wrong? we spend so much time assuming people are guilty and make them prove their innocence. it’s a shame that his rep was almost ruined because of someone who was a selfish liar. wishing @isaacvd nothing but the best &lt;;3 1k replies 5k retweets 25k likes

»»————-　➴　————-««

A few blocks away from VDT HQ in Manhattan, at a small café, Grace sat alone at a table beside the storefront window. A cappuccino and sandwich, both untouched, were on the table before her. The press conference was displayed on the TV at the café, with nearly every customer and staff watching eagerly. She brought the drink to her lips, a small and private smile hidden behind the rim of the cup. Once the conference was over, she took out her phone to look through her Twitter and Instagram feeds. She doesn’t even hide the delighted and satisfied smile at all the tweets and messages, as well as the trending hashtags regarding Elizabeth Campbell.

Her phone buzzed with a notification banner. Grace set down her drink on the table and clicked on it.

From Womb Mate Thank you.

Her smile turned fond and a little soft, before she texted back a reply of her own.

To Womb Mate Any time.

»»————-　➴　————-««

A couple of months passed. The air turned colder and the leaves have fallen when the League came back from yet another successful mission in France. They decided that the best way to unwind would be to have another Team Bonding Movie Night, and this time, Grace volunteered to host it. She ordered Chinese for takeout, rather than the usual pizzas. They were munching on dumplings and noodles, with Scream playing on the TV, when the intercom buzzed; signaling that Grace had a visitor waiting to be let in.

When she heard the voice speak, she grinned and buzzed them right in. Not even a few minutes later, there was a knock on her door and she rushed to open it, revealing her twin brother. He was several inches taller than her, but they had the same dark hair and brown eyes, which was where the physical similarities ended. He was also still dressed in a navy blue suit and tie, which meant he had literally just finished working before he arrived at her apartment. “Nice of you to make time in your busy schedule for your favourite sister,” she teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“You’re my only sister.”

“And therefore, your favourite by default.”

He simply rolled his eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He’s exasperated by her, but there’s no denying he loved her. Grace knew Isaac like the back of her hand after all.

“Hey guys,” Isaac nodded and grinned at the others, who all greeted him back with enthusiasm. “I also didn’t come empty-handed.” He had a couple of white boxes in his arms and Grace helped him carry them to the coffee table in her living room. They opened the boxes to reveal a variety of pastries: chocolate croissants, slices of different-flavoured cheesecakes, cookies, brownies, and even a few donuts.

Dylan let out a whistle. “Damn. See, this is why I love it whenever you join us for Team Bonding Movie Night, man. You bring the good stuff!”

“Glad to know that you love me for what I bring to the table, Reeves, and not for who I am as a person,” Isaac chuckled, sitting down on the carpet right next to Laurel. Grace took a croissant and sat at the edge of the couch, right next to Dylan.

“Hey, I like you just fine. But the stuff you bring us every time you come over? Unmatched,” Dylan explained as he grabbed a donut.

“I’m surprised you were able to join us tonight,” Will remarked, “I figured you might be a little busy.” He was sat on the armchair by himself, still working on his fried rice.

To anyone else, that might have sounded a little snarky or judgmental. But Will spoke like that to everyone— even his own cousins. It was why Isaac was unfazed and not at all offended like others would be. “It has been a busy couple of months following the… Elizabeth incident.”

“You can say it, dude. It’s not just an ‘incident’; it was a fucked up scandal that almost ruined your life and nearly undid all the progress you made with your company,” Morgan said bluntly.

Isaac made a face: nose scrunched in distaste, and brows knit together into a frown, before conceding with a nod. “Yeah… Well, I never did get the chance to thank you guys for that. I mean, I thanked Grace but I never did thank you. All of you,” he said, looking at the others.

“What makes you think we had anything to do with it?” Morgan questioned.

Isaac smiled. “Because I know you wouldn’t have let her done anything alone.”

“Well, of course we won’t let her do it alone. Well… they wouldn’t let her do it alone. For legal purposes, I unfortunately could not have helped out the way they did,” Laurel said with a small smile, although there was a twinge of guilt in there. Grace knew that she hated not being more involved, but she really couldn’t do anything without risking her job. Covering for them was the best that she could do, and Grace had tried to assure her it was more than enough. “And besides; she’s one of us.”

Isaac’s smile turned fond at that. “I know. Still, thank you.”

The conversation turned much lighter after that. They told him about the mission in France: how successful it had been, and also how fun it had been to enjoy Paris for a bit before they had to head back home. Morgan recounted the story of Dylan trying to flirt with a French girl as part of a bet with Grace, and how he mixed up the words for ‘fuck’ and ‘kiss’ and ended with coffee getting poured all over him— which had Isaac laughing loudly. “I will say this, Dylan: never bet against my sister, because you will almost always lose,” he declared.

“I know that now,” Dylan grumbled, ears turning red from embarrassment. It was quite cute seeing him like that. Had Grace been a little jealous when she saw him flirting with the French girl? A little bit (but she would forever deny it). But, seeing him strike out and her winning the bet did make her feel better about it. Just a smidge.

She looked at her brother again; seeing him laugh and smile so freely and without care. It was a good look on him. The last few months (or the past year if you were to include his disaster of a wedding day) hadn’t been kind to him. She hadn’t seen him look so relaxed in ages. At one point, Isaac had taken off his suit jacket and tie, and the sleeves of his button-up were rolled up. He didn’t look like the CEO of a multibillion dollar tech company. He looked like just like every other thirty-something year-old man, who was hanging out with his friends and having a good time.

It was nice seeing him without the stress and heartbreak that had been weighing on him.

“Um, guys? Why don’t we turn on the news?” Laurel suggested with a frown, interrupting the conversation. She had been looking at her phone while Morgan was telling Isaac the story and something appeared to have caught her attention.

Grace exited Netflix and switched to the cable news channel, where they were met with breaking news. The camera showed Elizabeth Campbell being escorted from her apartment building and into a police car and the banner under the shot read: "Disgraced Actress and Socialite Elizabeth Campbell: Arrested on Charges of Embezzlement".

"What the hell?" Isaac breathed out, sitting up and his eyes were wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Morgan gasped out. Even Will and Dylan looked shocked and surprised. The only ones who didn’t look surprised were Grace and Laurel.

"Embezzlement?" Isaac repeated, staring in disbelief. Everyone fell silent when the news anchor began to speak.

"NYPD is collaborating with the FBI in this investigation, but a source within the NYPD has told us that Elizabeth Campbell has been funneling funds from her family's charity foundation and depositing them into her banking accounts. An employee at the foundation who wishes to remain anonymous has confirmed to the authorities that the missing funds were taken out by Campbell on a nearly weekly basis…"

Isaac turned to look at them. "I never saw that coming… and I’m guessing none of you guys knew?”

Everyone but Grace and Laurel shook their heads, which made them all stare at the two. Laurel and Grace exchanged looks. “Wait, did you frame her for embezzling?” Dylan asked, turning to look at Grace.

“Surprisingly enough, I didn’t have to,” Grace said honestly. “I was just looking through all of her banking and credit card statements, and noticed the insanely large amounts of money she’s been transferring into her accounts. I did hack into the bank accounts for the Campbells’ foundation to confirm my hunch and I was proven correct. She moved the funds to an offshore account first, before sending it to her own account.” It was honestly one of the laziest embezzling she’s ever seen: most people moved their money to several offshore accounts and they never send it to their own personal chequing accounts.

Let it be said that Elizabeth Campbell, for all the lies she’s said and the people she’s hurt, was not a criminal mastermind.

Morgan and Will looked at Laurel. “And you knew?” Will asked.

“Grace did tell me about the embezzling, and all she asked for was that I give her a list of people she can send the evidence to without getting in trouble,” Laurel admitted. “I figured she was going to tell you guys.”

“I didn’t want to say anything about it until I was sure that she was going to be charged,” Grace explained, looking at the team. She had finished her croissant by this point, and her hands were a little clammy and her lips were a little dry. She was thrilled and satisfied that Elizabeth had been charged, but she also did just keep a secret from her team.

They didn’t look mad. A little confused, and a little annoyed maybe. But nothing that indicated anger or betrayal. “You’re a fucking genius, Grace,” Morgan grinned, holding up her drink as if to toast to her. “I’m not happy you kept it from us, but I have to say: that reveal was stunning.”

Grace grinned back, a warmth spreading throughout her body and her shoulders relaxed when she realized that they were not at all pissed off at her. “Thanks for not being too mad that I kept it from you guys.”

“Why would we be mad? You found something that destroyed her for good,” Dylan told her with a proud smile. Her heart most certainly did not flutter in her chest at the sight. “And I agree with Morgan. The reveal was absolutely amazing. Ten out of ten.”

“Proud of you, Gracie,” Will nodded, giving her a small smile.

She met Isaac’s eyes and he nodded subtly towards the direction of the balcony. She stood up, wiped her hands on her jeans and pushed open the sliding door. Winter was coming; she could feel it in the way the air bit at her cheeks and the trees that were now nearly barren. At least she was wearing a sweater so she wasn’t completely freezing. Isaac followed her on the balcony before sliding the door shut.

The twins stood there, silently staring at each other for a few long moments. The only sound that could be heard were the cars driving below them and the occasional horn being honked. “You know that I can’t really read your mind, right? Twin telepathy is not an actual thing,” Grace said, breaking the silence.

Isaac chuckled slightly. “No, I know. I just…” he sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I don’t know how to thank you. I thought that… the Lancaster affair and the leaked audios… I thought that those were it, you know? I didn’t expect there to be anything else.”

Exposing an affair and a liar should be enough to ruin someone’s life. But Grace didn’t just ruin Elizabeth Campbell’s life— she destroyed her. “Well, there was. Ruining her reputation wasn’t enough, Zac.”

He leaned his elbows against the balcony railing, staring out at the city skyline. Grace angled her body so she was also staring out at the night sky, but she was staring up at the crescent moon above them. “I wanted to destroy her for what she did to you,” she admitted.

Isaac was silent, but she could see the way he perked up slightly, showing that he was listening. “I don’t…” Articulating her feelings was rather difficult, especially when she spent so much of her life repressing them. “You had no idea how angry I was when I first heard about how she left you at the altar,” she breathed out. She glanced back up at the moon, because it was easier to talk about her feelings when she’s not making eye contact. “I wanted to go after her then. But you didn’t want me to. And I respected that.”

“But then these allegations… I knew they were fake because I know you. And I just thought it was so fucking unfair, Zac.” She closed her eyes, the cold air helping her not feel as heated as she had been months ago when she first found out. “She doesn’t get to succeed in life when she tried to destroy yours. She doesn’t get to have a happy ending, when she robbed you of yours. When you gave me the okay to handle it, I vowed that I wasn’t just going to ruin her. I was going to destroy her. Because you did not deserve any of the shit she put you through. The heartbreak, the stress, everyone wanting to fucking cancel you over some fake allegations…” Grace opened her eyes and exhaled loudly. Her eyes stung and she clenched her hands into fists; nails digging into the skin of her palms as she tried to keep herself from crying.

“You’re my brother. My twin brother. You’re the only one who has ever looked out for me, who ever stood up for me, even when we were kids.” She was getting a little choked up now. “You’ve always been in my corner; supporting me and helping me and being so patient with me.” Despite her best efforts, a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve hastily, glancing at her brother, who was now facing her. “For once, I wanted to be the one to do something for you.”

She turned to look at him, and was surprised to see the tears in his eyes. Grace’s bottom lip wobbled. Within seconds, Isaac had wrapped her in his arms, pulling her in for a tight hug. She let out the softest exhale, and she slowly returned the hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “And honestly, Grace… I know you didn’t have to do this for me. But I really, really appreciated it.”

Grace let out a watery laugh and they pulled away from the hug, both of them wiping away their tears. “You’d have done the same for me if the roles were reversed. Although I’m sure your methods would have been way more subtle,” she joked.

“Oh definitely more subtle. I don’t have your expertise when it comes to hacking,” he smirked, elbowing her playfully.

“We should head back inside,” she suggested.

“So you can sit next to your lover boy?”

Grace nearly choked and she elbowed him back, hard. “Shut up!” she hissed, cheeks turning red. “Unless you want to talk about the little thing you’ve got for that redhead interior designer who was working on your apartment?”

Isaac stared at her with his mouth open. “How do you know about…?”

She wasn’t blind or an idiot: she had stopped by his apartment, met Evangeline Connors-Reed and saw how Isaac looked at her. “I read it on your face when you introduced me to her,” she said with a grin. “I’d say to go for it, if you’re ready. She seems nice and genuinely sweet. You know, perfect for you and your Prince Charming…” she gestured at his frame. “Whatever.”

“So articulate,” he teased.

Grace did the mature thing and stuck her tongue at him. “Fuck off,” she grumbled, without any heat. “Let’s get back inside because it’s freezing.”

She pushed the sliding door open and stepped back inside to the warmth of her apartment. Once Isaac was inside as well, she slid the door shut. She walked over to the dining table and poured herself her usual rum and Coke. With her drink in hand, she turned around and watched Isaac interacting with her new family; laughing and joking, falling into easy conversation with them as the movie played on in the background.

Elizabeth Campbell had hurt her brother; humiliated him and tried to ruin his life. In the end, she was exposed for the true liar and serial cheater that she was. Plus, she was facing criminal charges and she no longer had a career to go back to. Her life was destroyed. In Grace's opinion, Elizabeth got her just desserts and more. She would do it all over again without a single ounce of regret or hesitation.

After all; no one messed with Grace’s family and got away with it.

[christianconfessions]

Hello, it's Wannabe Globe Trotter again! lol

Honestly, that did encourage me; I don't believe I'd actually met anyone else who'd gone as long as me being consistently single. And you're right, out of eight billion people, surely there's a counterpart for me. I did actually hear that aforementioned pastor say, "he'll love you for who you are," so he must have been picking up on my general vibe of, "now, who in the world would consider that type of relationship with me?" even in the moment (in addition to what I wrote earlier, admittedly, I am quite poor with verbalizing affection, and rarely touch anyone past a handshake, which I figured would also make me even less desirable). I guess I shouldn't rule out that there's one guy sitting in his room in Anywhere, Earth thinking, "if only I could meet a Christian woman who actually doesn't want to settle down traditionally." And I agree, being different is the fun of life! I'm someone who has a bold, unique sense of style, so I don't exactly shy away from just being myself. I guess where it got somewhat complicated in my head was the fact that I'm a pretty recent convert (about a year ago), so there's this feeling of, "am I actually doing this wrong?" Given that I have 0 role models/representation of the lifestyle I want to lead, it's easy to fall into this sort of thinking.

Regarding that side note, I'm flattered; I've actually wanted to be an author since I was a child! (I have this frustrating inability to actually commit to a single project as opposed to starting and abandoning numerous things, but that's a whole other can of worms... lol) I'm glad to hear there's a certain quality to my speech that would translate well to fiction.

And, of course, thank you for taking the time to reply! God bless you, as well!

Hey! I'm glad that encouraged you! I know there isn't a ton of people like us out here, but we're definitely not the only ones haha! I see it as...we've avoided boyfriend heartbreak so that's a good thing! I'm kinda awkward with physical touch (and awkward in general looool) soooo I think I get you. I do feel that there's multiple guys who are on the same page as you tbh! It may not be easy to come across them, but I'm sure they're out there! And I get you about the role model thing. Maybe you're just one of those people that's gotta draw up a blueprint and become the first role model!

That's cool you've wanted to be an author. I can definitely see it! I have a thing where I start one project and leave it to start another one LOL so I think I can understand. It's like a gift because yesssss the creativity is flowing...but also not so great because things be going unfinished lol...You could start off writing a bunch of short stories whenever you get the time to and overtime you'd have a whole book! You're very welcome!! You seem like a cool person!!

*If you want, feel free to message me on my main blog @relentless-for-jesus if you ever want someone to talk to. I know what it feels like to feel like a misfit and how lonely it can be at times. I'd be glad to help you in your walk with Jesus or just chat with ya!! I promise I'm nice haha! If you don't feel comfortable with that, it's totally fine!

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

For the book asks, 1, 7, 14?

thanks for the ask!! referencing this post

1.book you’ve reread the most times?

gosh okay so honestly probably Animorphs (yes, the whole series--i used to reread All Of Them every 3-4 years, and i can't remember when i stopped but i know i'm Long Overdue) or the Bartimaeus trilogy by Jonathan Stroud, because those were both childhood staples and i just. have had the longest amount of time to reread them lol.

as far as recent additions go: i'm up to 2 times through Murderbot and 2 times through Gideon the Ninth (i'll do a third this fallish as Nona prep, plus my first reread of Harrow)--both, i feel like, impressive, given how recently they came onto my radar.

7.is there a series/book that got you into reading?

wow i'm really gonna be a broken record about this ask game but: Animorphs is the first thing i remember Obsessing over (even though i'm pretty sure i was always a Reader Kid). it's also hilarious and telling to see the Animorphs influence in my writer life, but that's not what this is asking.

14.do you ever mark/dog ear books you own?

i used to be a dog-earer (because yeah right could i find a Bookmark ever as a child), but i stopped that as i started buying primarily new books over used--i like my library as pristine as possible, so i can come back to it Fresh Every Time. i do love the history in used books!! i like seeing what other people have marked and written and dog-eared, i just. don't. do that. in new books i buy for myself.

similarly: i've never been one to mark books up because i'm Really Bad at drawing straight lines, and it Bothers Me™. i also had a teacher in high school who Forced Us to mark in our books, and i did it so thoroughly that i rendered my copies unreadable, and that was irritating. i'll flag things with those colorful tabs (they gotta color coordinate with the book in question, though), and i'll jot down Fave Quotes and such elsewhere, but if i mark something it's in pen, and if it's in pen it's gotta be Good, and you don't get do-overs in pen, so i usually don't risk it.

thanks again for asking!!

[use-your-telescope]

“The liminal space between Christmas and New Years” - never have I ever heard such an accurate way to describe those days 😂

Yes, at this point Theo has accepted her fate 😂😂 but the challenge is very real! Even as I started this fic, I was like “shit, what does someone get a sorcerer prince?” Because uh, I had to figure that out to make this fic a possibility (it took 28+ tabs of gift ideas and multiple days to get there, lol).

I didn’t write out the scene, but I think that when Wanda and Theo were out shopping, Theo realized that what Loki would appreciate more than anything is to feel like he was important and appreciated for who he is - as you put it, he deserves to feel seen and truly known. That’s not the sort of thing that comes from a store, so rather than focus on gifts that were flashy and cool, Theo focused on gifts that connected back to specific memories.

The book socks are a reference to their bookstore trips (and, though not explicitly stated in the note and not yet discussed in WEMTBB, is a reference to the philanthropy Loki engages in around literacy education and access to books).

RE: figuring out who his secret Santa was - I think that Loki was able to weed out a few folks based on the note about going to the bookstore together, but he has done that with other Avengers as well - I actually think that once Loki got over his fear of the Hulk, he and Bruce would love hitting up book stores together. I think he’d also have hit up a bookstore more than once or twice with Wanda, Nat, Peter, Shuri, Steve (which, I know - SURPRISE! - but I imagine Steve is a bookworm as well), Bucky (insert joke about reading the hobbit when it came out), and Sam…

Essentially, he could eliminate a couple people from the list, but not too many. Which is what made it good for a first day clue.

For the second day, I think he would make the connection between Theo’s sudokus and the puzzles comment, so he’d be almost positive it was her, but he’d wait to say anything in case it was a red herring (even though the note was very much written in Theo’s voice).

The baked goods - as a writer, this one was a fun one to put together! I imagine that Loki’s disappointment before he realized it was a prank came less from getting pop-tarts, but more from him thinking that he was wrong and Theo was not, in fact, his Secret Santa, because there was no way she would have gotten him pop tarts. Or if she did, he could not understand what he would have done to piss her off enough that she gave him pop tarts. Once he opened the gift and read the note, however, he was convinced it was Theo; even though Wanda also joined in on pranks, Theo was the one who liked puzzles. The other clue was that Loki had some familiarity with Sokovian baked goods, but he didn’t recognize any of the treats in the box.

Day four simply confirmed Loki’s suspicion even more, but he didn’t want to say anything because he was curious about what the final gifts were, and he didn’t want to upset Theo if she thought she hadn’t given herself away yet. 😂 But as soon as he saw “MoMA Design Store,” he didn’t even need to see the note to know it was Theo.

And day five — DAY FIVE!! Honestly, I can’t wait for the main story to get to the part that Theo references with the squishmallow (where we get to see the gift Loki gave Theo) because it is so fucking soft and I love it so goddamn much.

In my mind, part of why Theo chose to paint the gardens (as opposed to New Asgard in general) was because she knew how the gardens reminded Loki of his mother, and in a lot of ways he was continuing her legacy when he established them. In establishing the gardens, Loki gave the Asgardians the chance to cultivate something beautiful that they could be proud of and that brought a touch of Asgard to Earth.

And yes - THE IDIOTS HAVE ARRIVED! I’m gonna be honest, we have a pretty long stretch of the mutually pining idiots, so brace yourself, my friend - you’re going to want to bonk their heads together a lot 😂😂

Thank you for coming along for this holiday side quest (a side quest is really the perfect way to describe it)! I’m so glad you enjoyed 💕💕

Together by this Christmas Tree

Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!

Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.

This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas. If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).

Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.

Word Count: 8,104

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

—

When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.

The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian. 

Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.

But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.

However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate. 

But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa. 

At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.

Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts. 

Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.

Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.

Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.

Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.

It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.” 

So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.

Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.

“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”

“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.

“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?” 

“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing. 

Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts. 

Nothing.

“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.

“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”

“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”

“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda. 

“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”

“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows. 

Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.

“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”

“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”

The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed. 

“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.” 

“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.

“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”

“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”

“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”

The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.” 

“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door. 

“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”

Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”

—

Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture. 

Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.

More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.

In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.

Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.

Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant. 

The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers). 

Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room. 

Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.

Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.

Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said. 

“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“

“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.

Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.

They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.

As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?

Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.

Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container. 

“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”

Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.

Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”

“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed. 

Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud: 

“I know you love the bookstore,

We’ve been there a time or two,

But since I can’t buy the whole store,

I got you a pair of Crew… socks!

Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.” 

He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”

Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. 

First day was not a failure.

Only… four more to go.

—

The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.  

This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”

From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.

Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki. 

Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.

Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.

That was a good sign, right?

Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.

Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper. 

For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.

He opened the box and removed the first book. 

“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”

He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents. 

“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.

“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:

“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.

“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”

Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”

For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.

Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.

—

For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.

At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.

And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth. 

The conversation gave Theo an idea.

Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?

With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.

Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child. 

Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats. 

There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.  

Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.

When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake. 

Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”

He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card. 

“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”

Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box. 

Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.

“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”

“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”

Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—

“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.

“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”

The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box. 

Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction. 

Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.

“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud: 

“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two. 

“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”  

Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak. 

“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”

When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was. 

Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together. 

“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present. 

“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”

“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”

“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”

Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo. 

Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection. 

“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.” 

Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.

Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out. 

Only two more to go. 

—

After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.

In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts. 

On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen. 

After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:

“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.

Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.

Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:

“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”

The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer. 

What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.

When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”

Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.

Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.

Shit.

One more day to go.

—

The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.

Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.

At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.

For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.

While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.

… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point. 

Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.  

The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout. 

At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”

After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper. 

“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter). 

Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.

As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.

“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa. 

“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”

Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note. 

Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.

“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.

Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near. 

Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side. 

Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”

Theo’s heart damn near exploded. 

“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted -  if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.

“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”

“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.

“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him. 

Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.

This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.

Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.

“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.

“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real. 

“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink. 

Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.

“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”

“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”

For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace. 

“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”

“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.

Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.

“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:

One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!

This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received. 

In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list). 

I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others. 

So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it. 

Merry Christmas Loki. 

Yours,

Secret Santa. 

P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”

By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.

“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”  

“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”

With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.

By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested. 

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”

Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.

[saphirered]

Hiiii idk if you are taking requests that aren’t prompts but I thought I’d tell you my idea anyway :D I’d love to see something with Percy de rolo where he has a crush on the reader but they are dating someone else. Maybe with some angst or hurt/comfort

Ahhh idk I love ur work keep on writing amazing stuff :DDDDD

Angst and pining. A love not meant to be. Choices were made and we know the choices of a certain tinkerer are not always the right ones. Hope you enjoy this one. 😘

Percy remains hollered up in his workshop for hours, days, weeks on end only leaving when he absolutely has to or when he’s forcefully dragged out. He’s taken to the cot in the room as opposed to his comfortable chambers. He even goes as far as requesting books from idiots instead of gathering them himself. He barely speaks. At least he eats and drinks. He supposes he’s lucky he has friends like he does because if they did not save him a plate of whatever was left over after Grog had his fill, he might have forgotten entirely that sustenance is a necessity for all things living. One might argue so is daylight but Percy would count himself living proof this is not the case. When is the last time he’s seen the sun? Any time he tries to recall he does not just imagine a sun with its vibrant rays. Instead he sees much more. He sees your silhouette in the light as you look like a true celestial being. He sees your smile as you’d pulled him along out in the streets giggling. He had found himself laughing back then too. It’s as if when you stepped into his life he only then realised he lived in a world of darkness. You pulled him from the shadows by your sheer presence and that’s a dangerous thing. 

Of course Percy, despite the risks his mind conjured up to having anyone with such a value in his life, could not refuse himself from relishing in the unburdened wonder you brought. You made him feel alive, not just surviving. Though to be fair you pulled him into his fair share of reckless danger too, it was always an adventure and dodging daggers and axes left and right did not diminish the value of your time nor presence. He’d do anything to be in a tavern brawl now if only to see you kick arse and have his back. You’d blow him a kiss whenever you saved him and would not let it go until the favour was returned in which case it was his time to gloat. He’d give anything to have those moments regularly again. He’d wasted his chances by keeping you at arm’s length. Of course you brought him all these things unconditionally but you had offered him so much more. You’d offered him love and acceptance and noticed him in ways he wanted to reciprocate. He just couldn’t. To be okay letting go everything, put it all to the side for a single person, that’s not just a risk; that’s a fear he carries with him. He has things he has to do be that revenge or repent for what he might be facing. One word from you and he’d cast his life’s work aside. One word. 

So he took a step back, or several rather. When you offered him these blessings, these magnificent and wonderful gifts of your heart, he’d refuse them. When you opened your heart to him and confessed the feelings he too shared, he let you down. It broke his heart to see you saddened. It shattered his heart when you still found it within yourself to smile so warmly at him and told him nothing would change. You were friends first and foremost. You’d remain friends. Every fibre in Percy’s body shouted to hold you, tell you he loves you and this is all some stupid thing but you didn’t ask for the reasons of his refusal of your heart. As per his wishes you didn’t talk about it at all. You didn’t pretend it did not happen but you knew him well enough he does not always do so well with confrontation and you respected that. Percy watched you move on with your life. You’d still have your moments together. You’d never retreat from him. Nothing changed, as you promised but he kept you at arm’s length.

He’s ashamed to admit that when he found you slipping out without anyone noticing, or returning home late, or gods forbid in the early morning hours with a satisfied smile on your face, Percy felt something burning within him, eating him up from the inside. He does not blame you for moving on after his refusal. It was his decision, his fault after all but that does not undo the bitterness set in his heart. When his friends kept pestering you to spill, you did not. While you flustered so beautifully when Scanlan tried to pry for details and told you whoever it is in your life, better be taking care of you in every intimate way possible, Percy could not be there for that conversation and he had promptly left the room. You’d cast him a pitied glance but stayed and talked with the others as they fished for the nitty gritty of your love life. He thought he might vomit not because these talks disgust him but simply because his chest tensed in such a way he felt nauseous. 

As you became less guarded on the details of your apparent new relationship, Percy grew more reclusive until you hardly saw him at all. He was more curt and brass and avoided the topic of your love life and happiness overall entirely. You saw him, truly saw him and assured him everything is alright, will be alright and he has nothing to worry about. Your worry is misplaced. He hates himself for letting you slip through his fingers, for not taking the chance you offered him because if it were not for his stupidity he would be holding you in his arms and not some snobby redheaded elf who you’re causing mischief with now. Then again, he was the one to turn down your offers of chaos first. It all comes down to him again. He refused you. He said no. He let you go and he will not blame you for his choices. You are innocent in this. He’s just… He’s just stupid and blind and now his chance is gone. 

“Percy?” Your sweet voice echoes through his mind more so than the halls. He’d escaped his workshop in the hopes to avoid everyone but you’re here, just around the corner and he almost bumped into you. Like a deer catching its hunter’s gaze he freezes and takes a solid few seconds to register what just happened. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” No. 

“Are you sure?” You press. He hopes you do not see right through him. He hopes you miss how his breath catches and he cannot seem to breathe at all, how his heartbeat speeds up and sends a rush of blood through his face he cannot seem to repress, how his head feels light yet his limbs so heavy. He hopes you miss it all as he forces a pleasant indifferent raised eyebrow. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He says as though the entire question is preposterous. Again that pitied smile that makes him want to scream. 

“You’ve just been staying in your workshop so much lately. We’ve been getting worried. But if you say you’re alright, I’ll trust your word.” You fiddle with your thumbs. Few times has Percy actually felt remorse, true remorse for his actions, even fewer times have those actions haunted him in his present. This is one of those times. Why must you do everything right? Why must you respect his boundaries and be so damn kind? And why can he not be deserving of such? He’s stupid, so damn stupid and he cannot help himself.

“Don’t you have some boyfriend to meet up with?” That came off very wrong, your eyes shoot up to his and the fiddling stops. You just freeze and when he sees that strike of pain his features soften. “I’m terribly sorry. I appear to have left my manners in my workshop. Let me rephrase. You must have places to be that are far more important than speaking with this tinkerer.” He chuckles, albeit forced and refers to the dusted white shirt covered in a variety of stains that show he probably should not linger close to any kind of open flame. You relax a bit but seem to make a mental note still. 

“I will always make time for my favourite tinkerer.” Gods those are not the words he hoped to hear. Those are the words that make his heart leap several miles. And your smile does not help either. Yet he can’t but notice, it does not reach your eyes. What’s going on? You continue. “But I mustn’t keep you any longer. Before the others notice you’ve come out of hiding.” 

“Of course. You’re right.” He sounds crestfallen. Your lips curl in a kind smile as you reach out to take his hand and give it a squeeze before you move past him. He turns to watch you go. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t look over your shoulder. You look over your shoulder and meet his eyes one last time before you turn the corner and then you disappear. 

————

Dear Lord Percival many names I cannot spell De Rolo the Third,

We humble commoners request demand thy esteemed presence for dinner tonight. Bathe, dress thy comfiest and please grace us with your humbly sophisticated spirit. 

Yours dearly, 

Your troublemaker

It’s been a few days since your last interaction and now Percy finds this letter addressed to him slipped under the door of his workshop. He must have been asleep when it came because he did not notice it for some time, and given the slight dusting of ash and lingering smell of smoke, he feels safe to say it’s been a few hours. What time is it anyway? Shit. An hour to dinner. He’s read it over and over and over. He cannot help but hear your voice speak those words, with the ever present joy behind your reading voice and the way your eyes light up when you used to look at him. They did not light up the way they used to last time, nor in the faint moments of passing when he snuck by an open door desperately trying to avoid his friends. You’d never blown his cover, despite what he knows is his friends insisting he gets out of that workshop. You’d offer him a wink or a wave if you thought you could and assured that no eyes would turn to him until he was out of sight. Despite everything you help him still. Of course you do. You’re his friend after all. 

He’s held the letter above the flames of his forge, ready to drop it in and burn it ever existing but he can’t. He can’t let go no matter how hard he tries. You’ve moved on. You’ve moved on and now there’s someone else in the place he wishes he could have been but he can’t. He can’t do it. He can’t watch you be happy like this when you gave him the chance to call you his and he yours. He can’t watch that chance being wasted and the wrong choice being made. You hold the key to his happiness it seems but not one person should be responsible for a single person’s happiness. It should not be reliant on the one when one is so easily taken away or lost. Then again, ever since your time became divided, ever since he saw you less and less, and refused your presence by locking himself up here between ashes and inventions, he’s felt the world duller than before. Percy craves that what you offered but he cannot go asking for it, he cannot let you offer it. And so he casts the invitation into the fire. He returns to his tinkering to keep his mind off his mind, off you.

An hour passes and there’s a knock on his door. You stand outside it and rap your fingers against the heavy wooden panels three times. You don’t hear anything beyond the sounds of the workshop you’re used to. You knock again but no reply, no stop in those sounds until they do stop and some seconds pass. The door doesn’t open and there’s not further reply. 

“Percy? Are you joining us?” You speak so sweetly, so full of hope. He doesn’t reply. “Percy?” You call again but there’s no hope. He can almost hear your frown through that damned door. He hesitates and puts his tools down. He takes a step towards the door, and closer. He reaches for the handle but doesn’t wrap his fingers around it. 

All the while you stand against the door, halfway between opening it yourself, if only to just check in on him. Something is wrong and you fear you might have made a mistake. You confessed your feelings for Percy some time ago and he turned you down. You think you might have misinterpreted his own actions for affection more than friends but you were never one to assume. You didn’t confess with the expectation that he would smother you in kisses and tell you it was meant to be. You live the life you do and know that fairytales are hardly the way of reality. You did not expect a fairytale. You told him because he deserved your honesty and he knew you well enough to know that you have him as your friend first and foremost and that would never change. You would not let some silly crush get in the way of that. Some feelings might be or have been romantic but you can set those aside easily because at the end of the day you love Percy for who he is more than some fizzling attachments that were never there to begin with. You’ve moved on. 

You’re happy. You keep telling yourself you’re happy. Someone else stumbled into your life and you think you could love him, in a way you do and in a way you know he cares about you, but both of you admitted to seeing how long this thing you have will last because were it not for your wildly different lives and stories, you have equally different paths to take in life and they are likely to separate. That’s alright. Not every love story is endgame. That doesn’t make it any less worthy of love and time and affection. It’s just a story with a clear ending and that’s okay. You know what you’re in for and so does your elf. You’ve moved on from the tinkerer but he’ll always hold a special place in your heart. Favouritism at its finest. Who knows what the future will bring but you will not sit around and wait for anyone. Not even Percy. 

“Percy?” You call to him one final time as you retreat your hand from that handle and wait a few seconds but no reply. You take a step back and nod to yourself before you turn on your heels and find your way to the dining room where your friends are waiting to share stories of past, present and future adventures and you’ll join in too. You’ll put on a smile, not a forced one but a genuine one. You’ll think about the white-haired gunslinger in his workshop from time to time but that doesn’t tarnish your mood. You just smile fondly and hope he’s alright. 

It takes Percy every ounce of self restraint to not open that door, to pull you into his arms or fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He retreats his hand and cradles it close to his chest as he tries to control his breathing. It’s incredibly difficult and he does not trust his legs. When he hears you take a step back he bites his lip and sinks to his knees quietly. Then those steps echo throughout the hall until they fade into nothing. Only then does he let his back hit the door. Only then does he pull his knees to his chest and places his hands over his face. It’s not sad or something worth crying over. He’s just angry, at himself, the world at his mind and his past and purpose. He’s got a purpose he needs to fulfil. He’s got a goal to reach and maybe if there is something left of him by the end of it, maybe if you look back and take pity upon him, maybe if you allow him into your life he can be whole again with the key to his happiness. He hopes so but hopes is for the foolish. He’ll be a fool. He’ll be a fool for however long it takes. 

[callahanisms]

courtship - hotd cast

i have done a variety of similar posts for a different fandom. so i thought i’d try my hand and do something a little more laid back than a fic. anyways, have fun with these! i hope they’re satisfactory for you guys. (and if there’s someone missing that you would like me to add, feel free to tell me. my brain can be a bit scattered when writing these.)

these are all inherently gender neutral, by the way. i aspire to be as inclusive as possible when it comes to writing fandom pieces. i understand there are structures in place within the world of westeros. for the sake of this post, however, i am forgoing them. everyone is deserving of a courtship after all!

ser criston cole

ser criston’s courtship is very straight forward. of course, he makes sure he has the blessing of his queen to pursue you first. he is a gentleman. makes good conversation, always asks about you. you do wish he would be a little more romantic with his gestures however, he has appearances to keep up. his honor is always at stake, front and center. and sometimes, it can definitely feel like your courtship with him is a secret he must keep hidden.

“and how was your day, my liege? i hope it was bright despite the clouds.”

daemon targaryen

daemon’s courtship with you is also very straight forward. he’s honest about the way you make him feel and there is also a lot of witty banter happening between you two. he’s not much of a traditional person though. traditions are boring after all. but if you insist on keeping with tradition, he will put his personal feelings aside to accomodate them. as long as they aren’t ridiculous. he does love giving you physical affection and surprisingly is very touch starved.

“i missed you today. i can’t even begin on how woeful it was without you, my love.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra is the princess! the heir to the iron throne! and essentially, she can court whoever she wants. her father did tell her to just pick someone after all. if she is going to marry, she’s going to pick someone that lights a fire within her and makes her smile. so of course, she chooses you! you’re brave, smart, witty. and most importantly, you know how to make cake. the best moments of your courtship come when you visit her in her room, holding a cake you made specifically for her. and she gets to eat it while you talk about your day. afterwards, she lays her head on your lap, looking up at you. sometimes she kisses you. other times, she just holds your hand and traces your knuckles with her fingers.

“you must tell me the secret to how you keep your hands so soft, (y/n). soft like the cake you make.”

alicent hightower

when it comes to courtship with alicent, it is you who must make the first move. she is rather busy, preoccupied, and a little nervous. she has a habit of overthinking things when she shouldn’t. so you make the first move and make many gestures of romance. you leave books at her desk, books you think she would like. you give her flowers when you see her, sticking one in her hair. sometimes, if you have the time, you go out of your way to buy a blank book where you press flowers in between the pages and you make beautiful arrangements within them. she holds that book of pressed flowers close to her heart.

“you give me so many daisies, (y/n). and i am a fool to just learn that it means you are saying, i love you truly.”

aegon targaryen

aegon is very blunt. courtship with him is...messy? messy is an understatement. and he is a prince so people only watch. they don’t bother to comment on it. what matters most to aegon is not his grand gifts to prove his love, but rather it’s the way you sit and listen to his woes. he feels they are not taken seriously enough and he loves laying near you and having you listen. you’re the first person to truly listen to him when he tells you that he has no interest in being royalty. in fact, he’d rather fake his death. and run away.

“you wouldn’t be opposed to running away with me, right (y/n)? it could just be the two of us. i like that idea.”

aemond targaryen

aemond is a cordial man. he sticks with tradition and does very thorough research if you particularly have certain traditions for courtship with your family. he woos you not with any grand gifts or proclamations or songs, but with his gentle touch and sweet words. he is surprisingly a big fan of physical touch, your pinkies intertwined, a hand on your shoulder, a small kiss to your cheek. he’s willing to do anything for your approval and he has the means to do so. but the best moments, in your opinion, are when you two are just alone. it’s you, aemond, and a source of light in a room.

“it may be the morrow, my love, but my mother does not call for me yet. so please, let me lay with you a little longer.”

helaena targaryen

helaena is a quiet girl and tends to prefer solitary activities. but for you, she was willing to get out of her bubble. she starts with talking to you. it’s small talk, but you enjoy it. and when she apologizes for accidentally going on tangents about her love for bugs, you encourage her. you sit and listen to what she has to say, asking questions to further increase your own knowledge. she feels guilt for speaking so much but you reassure her it’s fine. she also loves hearing you talk about what you’re passionate about and asks questions as well. the two of you build a collective of knowledge together. you also go out of your way to do things for her, like finish her embroidered spider or give her a drawing of a new bug you found. she has many of those drawings tucked away for they are sacred to her.

“i found this lovely creature yesterday. it reminded me of you (y/n). i cannot decide if i want to name it after you. i thought i would ask for naming suggestions as well.”

jacaerys velaryon

jacaerys most definitely asked his mother for some advice on courting you first. after all, he has seen you two talk frequently (apparently it’s because you remind her of herself when she was your age). he asks if he can take you on small walks where two talk about the weather, the scenery, how your days have been. you have a fascination with dragons, so he will take you to see vermax. sometimes, if you’re feeling up for it, you propose that when vermax is big enough that you ride together. he is also, surprisingly, a good artist and when you sit and contemplate, he draws you. the portrait is lovely and you keep many of them even if they are of you doing mundane things.

“perhaps one day, i will capture you riding vermax. but i do not believe a drawing of you can truly capture your beauty.”

[houseofhollows]

Hi so I was wondering if your requests are open? If so I thought of something along the lines of the that the reader was like a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw and at the Battle of Hogwarts she ends up died and buried under ruble but She’s dating either Blaise,Theo, or Draco you can pick it’s up to you if you like it enough to write? 🙃🤙🏻💛

beneath the rubble

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

genre: angst

warnings: war, death

notes: sorry that it’s so short but i hope you like it :))

Draco never knew what it was like to love someone. To trust someone so deeply. To want to be with a person every second of the day. He never felt like he had much to live for, other than being Lucius Malfoy’s heir. And he certainly never knew what it was like to have someone love him. 

He remembered the nights when he would lay in bed wondering when he would be enough, not only for himself but for his father. It seemed that his purpose in life was to please those around; those who held such high expectations, ones he knew he would never be able to achieve. There was so much he was passionate about, and so many things he wanted to accomplish in life. No one listened or cared. And when they did listen they would tell him how stupid his ideas were. 

Except for Y/N, who listened every time he spoke about what he wanted in life. She encouraged him to follow his dreams, to not care about what his parents thought. And he never got the chance to tell her just how grateful he was. 

Hogwarts was especially loud that day. The sounds of spells bouncing off walls, of students yelling, screaming. Footsteps echoed in the empty corridors of the castle, where students were running from Death Eaters or trying to find their friends. Never in his life did Draco think something like this would happen. Never did he think he would have to see death so close. 

He had no idea where to go or what to do. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. His parents had left him at the Malfoy Manor, but he apparated to the castle once they left. He couldn’t sit at home in safety while his friends and girlfriend were in danger. Both, however, were nowhere to be seen. Draco had been around half the castle and there was still no sign of anyone he knew. Though, even amongst the emptiest corridors were students. As he expected, many of them were dead. 

Ravenclaw Tower was empty save for a few. Draco had only been in there a few times when he found his nightmares to be too distracting. He would often find himself in Y/N’s dorm after they got too bad. She provided him with great relief. 

Walking up the steps to the girls’ dorms, Draco could feel his heart pounding. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find. She could be alive, in her dorm, but she wouldn’t be okay. Or she could be lying on the floor, body still, eyes open, unable to be woken. He didn’t want to imagine it or even think of the possibility, but he knew there was a chance.

Stepping inside her dorm, Draco’s eyes immediately went to her bed. Not surprisingly, she was not there. However, there was a mess around the floor. He examined the items, noticing clothes, books, and food wrappers. But amidst the mess was a box that Draco had gifted her. He had never looked inside it to respect her privacy, but this time he did. In it were photos of the two. Hundreds of them. Some she had taken, others were candids of them that their friends had taken during trips to Hogsmeade. As he shuffled through the photos, he felt a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite figure out. There was love, yes, but also heartbreak, for he knew these might be the last photos ever taken of them. 

An explosion erupted from somewhere, and Draco began shaking. He looked out the window and saw that below were hundreds of people, fighting on opposing sides. He was too high up to decipher whether they were his classmates or Death Eaters. The bright colors of spells and charms and jinxes lit up the darkness.

The front of the castle was bustling. Every corner and entryway was filled with students or destruction. Rubble and broken columns littered the ground. Draco had found Blaise who was equally as terrified. God, there were so many of them. So many lifeless bodies and innocent eyes. To his left, to his right. He tried to look away. 

Blaise dragged them to a secluded corner, hopefully, safe enough for a few minutes. Draco felt like he couldn’t breathe. The Dark Mark on his left arm was burning. He could hear people fighting, hear them whimpering and begging, pleading. 

There was something shiny in his peripheral vision. At first, he thought it was a spell being launched at him but when he turned his head to look, he saw the familiar gold and diamond ring his Y/N wears. It was his body that reacted, throwing an arm out to move the rubble away. 

“No, no,” he whispered, tears immediately blurring his vision. “Blaise, help me.”

The two boys moved the heavy stone that had landed on her. His body buckled and Blaise caught him and sat him down. She was bleeding, everywhere. Her beautiful face was grey with dust and ash. Her clothes were ripped. 

“She’s not moving,” he said quietly. “She’s not moving.”

He touched her gently like he would if he were trying to wake her up. He brushed the hair off her face, moving his hand to slowly caress her face. He choked and sobbed and shook. He shook her harder, but she did not wake. He buried his head in her chest and sobbed loudly, not caring about vulnerability or pride. If anything, this was his parents' fault. If they hadn’t forced him to become one of them, to be a “follower” of the Dark Lord, he could have been there with her. He could have protected her. Instead, she lay lifeless on the ground in a place that should have kept her safe. 

Her soul was traveling to an unknown place. Death was claiming her, collecting her. Draco hoped she could see him, hoped she knew just how much she meant to him because now he would never be able to tell her. 

“She’s in the clouds, now,” Blaise whispered. 

He wished nothing but to see her eyes once more. To hear her laugh. Smile that smile he knew was reserved only for him. He wanted to tell his beautiful raven many things, if not out loud then on paper. He would visit her every day and read aloud his thoughts. And he would mourn her forever.