#(says this even though my new name sounds similar to my old one but it’s just more masculine now lmaooo)

[bi-octavius]

seeing my deadname show up on old posts that ppl have liked/reblogged is such a wild experience for me like. i want to raise my hackles and hiss and foam at the mouth like i’m some feral gremlin creature that needs to be beaten back with a stick jngjfnfjfndjfnfhf /hj /lh

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ on my mind since the flood ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: a 45min train ride makes two 43 year olds feel like teenagers. content warnings: divorce babes, divorce. kinda spoiler-ish. watch the 3rd season before. the reader has a backstory and a job, if that bothers you grow up don't read. word count: 960+

Your hair was different, that was the first thing he noticed.

Much like himself, you had soft wrinkles beginning to show up on your forehead and around your eyes, a gift from your late thirties that kept on giving. Your eyes were the same though, he could recognize those anywhere at anytime, even if it had been decades since the last time they stared back at his. Your nose, your lips. Your smile. The way his name sounded coming from your tongue. It was all extremely familiar, as if he was fifteen again.

"You're staring, like a creep, airhead." The old nickname rolls out like you had spent merely seconds apart and it makes him laugh, it has been weeks, maybe months since he last laughed genuinely like that, with his whole face.

"I just got lost—" In your eyes. "In my memories for a bit. You look so much the same."

"Well, my pay check won't allow me any plastic surgeries so—"

"Wise ass." And there it was, like a reflex, his own nickname to you leaving his lips before he even thought about it, if he did think about it he probably would've held it in, a 43 year old FBI agent using childish nicknames not being the best look, but it didn't feel like that with you, at all, it felt natural. You both laugh at it for a second and a comfortable silence follows it, but Aaron couldn't keep it like that, he needed to know more, where have you been, what were you doing... Have you been in Virginia for long? He kept it as casual as he could considering his curiosity, "How have you been?"

"Alright, good, yeah. I’m teaching at Scalia, started this year, I want to keep practicing though, but I’m gonna settle down in Virginia first." You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. You were purposefully leaving details out, you had seen him on TV a lot since coming back to the states, FBI, profiler. You wanted to see how much could he get from you without words. "What about you, mister FBI hotshot?"

If you two were still teens the way your teasing came out would've made him blush, and quite frankly if he wasn't so self controlled maybe he would've blushed right now, he did feel warm, but instead he just let a chuckle out of his throat, "Well, FBI hotshot just had his divorce finalized, not that glamorous being in these shoes." You already knew what he was doing with his life, it made sense to give the only actual news he had, "Scalia? Law degree too, then." Aaron clicks his tongue, not holding back the instant smirk the realization brought. "Your mother used to say we were so similar we shared the same brain, remember?"

"Welcome to the club, then! Meeting every Friday, membership perks only after the second one, though." His eyes went straight to your fingers, seeing the lack of any rings he nods to himself. Twice divorced. Dark heavy coat, makeup accentuating your features, red lips, hair pulled back. You care about being seen, and desired, but don't want to be approached, a teacher-lawyer, no time, a lot of perfectionism. "Yeah, I stay far away from criminal. Civil and International Law cases mostly. Families, divorces, cross-board custodies." A child of divorce trying to save other children of divorce. Very typical behavior.

Aaron felt like he could stay like this for hours on end, sitting by your side uncomfortably on the train after fate pulled you two to one another again, hearing you tell him about your life in London, your divorces, your time in college. You made him feel young, like you were still his childhood best friend who he fell for. Like if he were to kiss you like he did when you were both thirteen you would still blush and grip tightly on his shirt. Nostalgia was indeed a bittersweet thing.

"I think when you moved away was the last time I openly sobbed." He shakes his head, the thought leaving his brain in a quiet, hushed voice tone, like a secret he wasn't supposed to be telling. It had been years, you were both fifteen when your parents got divorced and you were taken to England with your father. 28 years since the last time he saw you, and he still can feel the same pain if he thinks too hard about it, the way his heart felt like was being sliced apart, getting smaller by the minute as your father's car got further and further away. His mood soured in a way his feelings were only able to function normally again after meeting Haley.

Your hand softly touched his with the confession, your thumb going to his palm and drawing small comforting circles, "I cried myself to sleep a lot that year." Aaron glued his eyes on the way your hands touched, and you thought he might reject it, find it weird after so many years, but instead he just closed his around yours tightly, a silent thankful prayer to the universe, mixed with the warning that he had no intention to let go.

You both stay like that as you talk the rest of the ride, cellphone numbers and e-mails are exchanged, along with longing glances beginning to make you shy like the school girl you once were, when you fell for him the first time. You often wondered what would've happened if you stayed in Washington. Before Jack, Aaron wondered it too from time to time, but truly, he wouldn't do anything different now, he wouldn't choose any alternative ending that would take Jack from him.

But at least now he had a second chance, right?

[c4ttheart]

prev • mlist • next

taylor swift and travis kelce who ?

it’s been about two days since the party, and god, sae wishes he never went. because now, the internet is blowing up about how he would apparently be dating you, and he is sitting in front of his exasperated manager and publicist who are desperately trying to make him understand the situation.

"why the hell would i date her ?" he spits out, venom laced in his tone. wasn’t he supposed to be a bachelor or something ?

"again, sae, it wouldn’t be real. just for a few months or so, you know ?" his manager pleads, like he has done so many times before (in vain.) the auburn haired male is about to retort a negation again, but is rudely interrupted when his publicist speaks up.

"do you not understand ? your following count has gone up by like, three million ? do you even know how many people came to your game last night just in hopes to see a glimpse of (name) in the bleachers ? do you realise how much good this would do to your reputation ? she is three times more famous than you, for god’s sake ! people are actually getting involved into soccer !" he screams out, tussling his hair beneath his hands, almost ripping his roots out.

"they call me (name)’s boyfriend." he says, voice laced with such disdain it almost gives his manager a heart attack.

"okay, maybe they do, but does that really matter when your salary has doubled ?"

and that, is how he finds himself in front of you, eating lunch, situated on a table a little too close to the window for his liking. he isn’t new to paparazzi, no, but he definitely doesn’t want to expose himself to the world like he is doing right now.

the restaurant is nothing fancy. it’s four stars, but the food is mediocre. the ceiling is white and high, littered with golden edges and big artificial chandeliers. the walls are white as well, and the structure makes him think of the fancy paris appartements, old, but beautiful. you’re sitting in front of him, another dress similar to the one from the party, albeit a bit more casual placed atop your body. outside, the sky is a vibrant blue, showcasing the contrasting yellow of the bright sun. everything screams fake and dishonest. the weather is too nice to be true for the end of november, and your uneasy expression gives away both your discomfort.

"um, so, tell me about yourself." you squeak out, fork playing with the rest of your food on your plate, avoiding his glare like you’re a little kid who just did something they weren’t supposed to.

"dunno. i play soccer. i’m twenty one, and-"

"no, not that. the real you."

he stays silent, and watches as your eyes bore into his. his brows furrow, what do you mean ? did he learn his whole practice speech by heart just for you to be uninterested in it ?

you sigh, and speak up again, "for example, i find comfort in consistent sounds. like the tapping of my heel against the floor that i know has been bothering ever since we sat down."

yes, he definitely noticed, and he cared, but he wasn’t about to make some rude remark about it, not when so many people were watching him. his brows furrow again. "i like green."

you hum, and the ghost of a smile is present on your lips. that’s good, right ?

"your eyes are green." you say, matter of factly, and he deadpans because yes, he knows that too so why are you pointing it out ?

"i know." he replies with a small gruff, as he stares at you again. you laugh, hand covering your mouth like he remembers you doing two nights ago. he doesn’t really know what’s funny, but he lets you finish, because even if you’re making fun of him, he thinks you’re pretty when he can spot your big toothy smile and puffed out cheeks. he looks away, pretending to stare at the glittering buildings in the distance.

"i originally didn’t want to be a middle fielder." he adds, and you smile again. he’s opening up.

"i originally never even thought of being a singer." you somewhat reply to him, the smile never leaving your lips even though he can tell this one is more forced than the previous one he witnessed.

but he doesn’t comment on it, he just hums. he never really was much of a talker anyways.

"who’s amaya ?" he finds himself asking instead, and his fiddles with his fingers when he hears a camera shutter nearby. you notice this, and place a hand atop of his in a way of unspoken comfort. the act causes more clicks to be heard, but you both pretend you are blind to it.

then you answer, your voice low, barely above a whisper like you are about to divulge to him some incredible secret. "my manager. she’s more of a best friend though, she takes care of me when life doesn’t."

his eyes slightly widen at your response, confused and intrigued at the same time. you aren’t blind, you see it, the lost look he gives you but you just flash your teeth at him and straighten your posture. "i’m just saying, you need a pretty good lawyer if you ever want to work in the music industry. shall we get out of here ?"

he nods, and lets you guide him to the backdoor like you have leaded the conversation. fifty hours ago, your name was one sae had briefly heard on the radio, but now, you were supposedly his and a lot more to handle than he imagined.

taglist (open)

@rroxii @hellothere9597 @melon-garden @kurowvie

[reveluving]

Can you do one where Batmom loves doing ballet? Maybe with her in the ballroom dancing, and the kids come in. Cassandra immediately goes to join her and the boys want to try so batmom and cass try to teach them? And then at the end Bruce sneaks in and watches then fondly?

P.S. I love your work :)

a/n: to whomever sent this request last year (+ a couple of others), I am so sorry for only doing this now lol BUT! y'all know I love a fluffy batfam moment! 💗💗💗 changed it up a bit and also, thank you so much!!

warnings: fluffy fluff! (ballerina!cass !!!)

check out my batmom m.list !

Cass is an expert of many things, but your absolute favourite has to be her love for ballet!

It was no surprise how much she's incorporated her ballet knowledge into her fighting style—not to the point where anyone could see the similarities between Cass and Orphan, but just enough to give her certain advantages that the rest didn't have.

The first time Cass gave you the invitation to her recital was when she stopped by the café as usual one fine afternoon.

You had expected a form for a trip that needed your permission but no, it was so. much. better.

Not only was Cass' name handwritten in gold ink, but she was going solo for that matter?

You immediately tackled her into the biggest, most bone-crushing hug you could muster. Nothing Cass couldn't handle, though, in fact, she reciprocated your own happiness, grinning and giggling as you wouldn't stop gushing about how proud you were and how you needed to call Bruce, even if it was still office hours.

And you did just that!

Bruce thankfully didn't have any pressing matter when you rang him up, picking up the phone in one hand and idly checking some reports with the other. He stopped caring for the papers in hand though, not when he could hear how excited you sounded.

"We're invited to Cass' first recital next month!" You squealed, the soft of giggles of your not-so-little girl didn't go amiss on the line, "You have to clear your schedule."

Bruce grinned, both at the news and your sudden seriousness. You didn't have to tell him and you knew it, for he immediately wrote the date on a piece of paper to be passed to his assistant later on.

Cass also took the opportunity to share the news with the rest of the family, with all of their congrats and compliments ranging from Alfred and Damian's detailed praises for her appreciation in such fine art, to Dick's chaotic but meaningful cheers in all caps lock, with a side of triple fire emojis.

All in all, it was almost overwhelming for her—no matter how subtle Bruce tried to be in moving the old, almost depressing paintings out of the manor's ballroom after learning about her hobby, or how you'd bring over a single chair in the middle of the room to watch her new move without hesitation, or how Alfred made sure the manor's ballroom was always squeaky clean for her own use, she would be in awe of how fate brought her here.

A place where she not only fought for the safety of others, but also a place where she could finally make a name for herself the way she wanted.

Despite your protests, Cass helped you around the café that day, too happy to just sit down when she could channel that energy by lending a hand. You were thankful for the extra pair of hands though, for you wanted nothing more than to celebrate with her at home.

It was only fitting to bring her to the ballroom, the person praising her now was Alfred, who had came in with tea to pair with the extra cookies you brought from the café.

There was really no other way to channel your own joy other than to dance with her—from pirouettes to a grand jeté together. You learned from the best after all, how could you ever say no when she once shyly offered to teach you how to properly plie once upon a time?

With the classical music paired with Alfred's claps and the three of you laughing, it wouldn't take long for the rest of your family, besides Bruce, to investigate as soon as they're home. Some readily came with gifts, others were ready to properly congratulate Cass as texting did little to no justice. But seeing how much fun you were having, they believe it was best to at least wait till the music ended.

But ever the perceptive child, Cass was quick to notice the newcomers and immediately waved at them. They all huddled around her, with Cass growing flustered by the sheer attention she was getting in one day. She did somewhat expect a positive reaction, but not to this extend, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

You and Alfred watched the sight fondly, your smiles growing bigger when one of them had asked her to teach them a thing or two. And just like chain reaction, almost everyone was trying it out. It was hilarious, to say the least, seeing them, ranging from tall, buff, serious and just almost out of place, glancing at one another as they sought the girl's approval for their plie.

"I wasn't aware of a party." You sucked in a breath, the unexpected arrival of your husband taking you by surprise, let alone when his arms wove around your waist and then kissed you on the crown of your head. You leaned into him, caressing the back of his hand before letting his intertwine his fingers with yours.

"It's only fair," You sighed, not wanting to tear your eyes away from the tooth-rotting moment before you. You felt Bruce's chest vibrate on occasion, no doubt amused to see some making it a competition to see who was best, "Our girl deserves it."

Our girl.

As if on command, Bruce's hand lightly brushed over your tummy. You didn't stop him, only to gasp when he proceeded to tickle you and shared a laugh. You threw your head to the side, giving him the opportunity to nuzzle into your neck and be in your own world just as your children was.

To say Cass was in heaven was an understatement, and though her life started rough, she had always thanked the universe for shining her to the path that actually mattered to her most.

With the people she was meant to be with.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[ascendanttarot]

PAC: Messages From Your Spirit Guides

Hi everyone! This PAC will cover whether your spirit guides have any messages or guidance for you. This is a little shorter than the last PAC but only a little bit, promise! I'll list a few signs for every pile before your reading to ensure you have picked the right pile for yourself. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. And! You’ll get a channelled song! :)

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3

Pile 1

Signs:

You play guitar or favour the sound of acoustic guitar in your songs

You listen to the following bands/artists: Hozier, Florence + the Machine, Mitski, and other similar artists

This is a weird one, but when cleaning you like buying the sprays/wipes/detergent with a fruitier smell?

You like going on nature walks

You read poetry

Your cards: The Tower, Queen of Cups rx, (clarified by the Six of Swords rx) Page of Wands

Your message: Something unfolded in ways you could have never imagined. It’s like all your backup plans fell apart too, and your optimism has been taken away from you. I just heard ‘victim of circumstance’. This is a difficult message to give, but your guides are saying whatever happened, happened beyond anyone’s control. You tried to shield yourself from these difficult emotions by hardening your heart, creating distance between you and your feelings... but you’re spirit guides are asking you, “Is this really worth it all?”. It won’t be an easy feat to move on from this situation, and your guides understand that. However, they’re saying that when the time comes and the right opportunity is in front of you to take that first step of healing, please take it. The best part of your life requires a childlike sense of wonder. It’s going to require a lot more determination and ambition than what you’re feeling now. Your guides are saying to take your time to feel messy, and when it’s time to heal, don’t rush yourself to do that too. They’re here for you if you ask them. They believe in you even if you don’t believe in yourself, but they are waiting patiently and happily for a time when you’ll start standing by your back too.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Song: In Your Own Sweet Time by Zaska, Karen Cowley and Hozier

Pile 2

Signs:

You have an alternative sense of style

You love 80s music. I just heard Wham and The Cure to name a few of the bands that popped up in my intuition

Odd sign to give, but you may have had a vaporwave phase? If you know, you know

You like Fantasy and Sci-Fi books and shows

Another odd message to give here—you may be sensitive to touch, but it goes both ways? Like you can only wear certain fabrics, or you like soft things, but also people may say you give good hugs

Your Cards: 8 of Swords rx, 6 of Cups, The World

Your Message: I just saw the image of your spirit guides popping open a bottle of champagne with a knife before chucking (yes, that violently) streamers and confetti! You know why? Because. You. Did. That. You’ve just come out of a period in your life when you had to do some intense shadow work. You’ve worked on your biases, and have started to fix your flawed systems on your environment and yourself; your spirit guides could not be more proud of you. They’re celebrating 24 hours a day 7 days a week because that chapter of your life is over! This new phase of your life will be given gently to you with the love and compassion you deserve. I think this may be an opportunity to let yourself be seen by others again. At the very least you’ll be hanging out with old friends and making new ones, but at the most, I’m seeing possibly an opportunity for a project to start online. Either way, your spirit guides will have your back for that in the future. For now, though, they’re asking you to put your feet up and high-five yourself for how far you’ve come!

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Your Song: Blame It on the Boogie by The Jacksons (I’m serious, they’re having a party right now haha!)

Pile 3

Signs:

You prefer the dusk over the dawn

You like RnB, so artists like Victoria Monét and Ashanti might be familiar artists to have in your playlists. I also heard Destiny’s Child and Ms. Lauryn Hill

I feel like you might like, collect, or work with crystals and metals. I just saw some people here may wear protective jewellery

You like sports, or were heavily involved in sports when you were younger, but you aren’t anymore

I just heard ‘helping hand’, so you may just be a really helpful and generous person. You’d be the friend people go to if they need advice on something

Your Cards: 2 of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Cups

Your Message: Okay this feels pretty straightforward. Your spirit guides want you to know that you’re coming into a divine partnership (not necessarily romantic if that’s not you’re thing or if you’re aromantic, so this could be a friendship or a business partner even) very soon. With the emphasis on the number two in this reading, this may correlate with timings in your life. You may meet this person in 2 weeks, 2 months, or even within the span of 2 years, but there’s a strong message of divine timing working in your favour. I feel you may have issues trusting the people around you to have good intentions because of negative experiences in the past. This person won’t break that mental belief for you, you’ll do that yourself, but they will certainly be the catalyst for it. Maybe the reason why you’re so jaded is because you’ve hoped for this so long the hope soured to cynicism, but this is not the natural state of your soul. This person will offer you the emotionally mature partnership you’ve dreamed of, with a sensitivity for you and your feelings you aren’t used to. Your spirit guides can’t wait for you to meet them because I’m hearing this relationship will be healing for all the parties involved. They’re with you on this every step of the way.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

Your Song: Love Is on My Side by Brandy

[willalove75]

The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc

WHAT DAY IS IT?! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY?! WOOHOO!!! I hope you all join me as I enter the final year of my 20s! And since one of my love languages is gift-giving, I am giving you all a present today! I debated on releasing this earlier this summer but I wanted to get a few chapters done before I did - and get a little further into Alcina's New Maid before I started putting out chapters. But ANM will still be updated weekly! Fear not! (And I know chapter 16 is late, I didn't get to finish it yesterday so I will finish it either today or tomorrow I promise!) Ideally, I would love to update this fic weekly as well but I just don't know if that is realistic so I am aiming for a bi-weekly or monthly update for this. Might be a little more frequently, might not. So I apologize in advance for irregular updates for this until I can get myself on a reasonable writing schedule! I do have a couple of chapters done already but I want to try and have a few chapters lined up as they're released. Unlike ANM where I literally brain-dump each chapter each week (usually done in a single day) and post it after I read it over a couple of times. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic since it's been rotting my brain for MONTHS and I literally have not been able to stop thinking about it and coming up with ideas/expanding on my ideas literally every fucking day for the last like, 4 months? LOL

Summary: It's been a tough few years for you. After a tragedy that left you to raise your three year old, Emma, as a single parent, you're finally starting to get back on your feet. Recently hired as a marketing & social media strategist for Dimitrescu Estate, a new chapter of your life is just beginning.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, flirty

I'll add more tags as needed!

Notes: I know I have so many other requests I should be doing but once again my mind has been plagued by this story I came up with and I need to get it out of my headddd.

Also, this is a blended oc/reader fic. Using "you" has become so engrained into my writing it's almost impossible to not add it (as opposed to writing she/her), but I will be giving the oc a name and describing her! Ik that's not everyone's cup of tea so I apologize in advance but I hope you enjoy it regardless! It'll be written in a similar fashion as Safety and Dimitrescu Books for those of you who are wondering what that will be like and/or read those (fucking amazing and wonderful) fics!

You take in the beautiful field around you, the crystal blue sky, the tall grass blowing in the breeze. Even though you have no idea where you are, it's warm and you have a fullness in your heart you haven't felt in a long time. In the distance you spot a familiar figure.

"It can't be-" you begin to say.

The figure continues to walk in your direction, but doesn't seem to get any closer. You begin to take a few steps forward, your legs feel like lead, slowing your movements. You try to run but you can't - desperate to get closer to the figure. You try and cry out to them but there's no sound when you scream. Using all of your power to move forward, each step becomes more difficult than the last. The figure walking towards you stops and stands still. With tears in your eyes you try and cry out again, and just like last time, there's no sound. The figure begins to move forward again. This time it finally seems like it's coming closer. Their face covered by shadow. You take step after step, using all of your strength to make your way to the figure. You're almost close enough to make out their face as tears stain your cheeks.

You're jolted awake by your alarm clock. Groaning, you reach over to the nightstand to shut it off. Looking down at your pillow you see teardrops scattered across it. Wiping your eyes you realize you were crying in your sleep again. You look up at the clock. 6am. You put your head back down and turn to the other side, reaching your arm across the empty side of the bed. Gently grabbing the pillow next to you, you take a deep, grounding breath and finally get up.

You exit your room and quietly open the other bedroom door. Inside is your three year old daughter, Emma, fast asleep in her toddler bed. Closing the door you make your way into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Pulling your hair out of it's messy ponytail you begin to undresses. Catching a glance of yourself in the mirror, the darkness hides most of what you see. Unless Emma is with you, every shower you've taken for the last two years has been in the dark. You had grown tired of looking into the mirror and seeing the dark circles under your eyes, noticing that you had lost weight - just looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing a shell of your former self. Even though you feel like you've been able to reclaim a lot of yourself in the last year, you always have a feeling of emptiness looming in your chest.

After showering you check the baby monitor, noticing Emma is beginning to stir, you quickly get dressed and walk into the bedroom. You make you way over to the toddler bed and sit on the edge, running your fingers through the little girls wild curls.

"Good morning my love." You quietly say.

The little girl turns her head and looks up at you, a sleepy smile crosses her face.

"Good morning mommy." She says with a yawn.

"Come on baby, lets get you up." You say, reaching down to pick up the girl, who sits up and reaches for you.

Lifting Emma out of the bed, she cuddles into your neck. You hold the back of her head and take a deep breath in, the empty ache in your chest eases some. After entering the kitchen you put the girl in her booster seat at the table and begin making breakfast for the both of you.

After breakfast you clean up the kitchen and get Emma dressed and put her in the playpen in the living room with her toys while you finish getting yourself ready.

You finish packing up the diaper bag and throwing a few of Emma's toys into another bag. After grabbing the rest of your own things you take Emma out of the playpen and head downstairs.

"Good morning Margie." You say.

"Oh Katie! Good morning!"

A small, elderly woman gets up from the kitchen table and walks up to the two of you.

"Good morning Margie!" Emma says.

"And good morning to you too princess." She says, squeezing the baby's chubby cheeks. "You want coffee hon?"

"No thanks, I'll grab something on my way, I don't want to be late."

"Oh right! Today's the first day of that new job, how are you feeling?"

"I'm excited, I'm looking forward to working in my field again."

"That's great but you know that's not what I meant." She says flatly. "How are you feeling?"

Knowing what she means you look down for a moment and then back up at Margie.

"I'm okay, I'm hanging in there." Margie gives you a look. "I mean, barely, but I'm hanging in there. I'm terrified to leave her." You say looking at Emma as your eyes begin to gloss over. "But I know it's what I have to do, and I really do miss working, I need some sort of normalcy back in my life."

Margie brings her hand to your face and wipes away the stray tear that fell.

"You're gonna do great kid. Knock 'em dead." She says with a smile and pats Katie's cheek.

"Thanks Marge."

With Emma and your things in tow you head to the car, putting Emma in her car seat and dropping your bags in the front passenger seat. When you pull out of the driveway you beep and wave at Marge who's waving from the front door and head off.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Emma says.

"Yes baby, what is it?"

"I want Baby Shark!"

You groan a little, it's just barely 8am and you haven't had coffee, Baby Shark may actually make you snap right now.

"Mommy pleaseeeee!" Emma whines.

"Okay fine."

Her whining is so much worse than Baby Shark, so you oblige. The music starts and Emma starts laughing and clapping her hands and sings along. You do your best to drown it out with your thoughts.

"Mommy! Sing Mommy shark!"

Looking at the girl through the rearview mirror you smile.

"Okay, okay." You say. "Mommy shark do do do do do do, Mommy shark do do do do do do Mommy shark!"

Emma squeals with happiness, you can listen to her laugh all day. It's one of the few things that's been able to get you through the last couple of years.

Pulling up to your in-laws house, you grab the diaper bag, Emma's toys and Emma and head to the front door.

"Nana!!!" Emma squeals when your mother-in-law opens the door.

"Good morning my baby!" She says as she picks Emma up and squeezes her. "Good morning Katie." She hugs you and kisses you on the cheek.

"Morning mom." You say and hug her back. "Thank you so much for watching her, really."

"Of course, I'd do anything for my grandbaby!" She says putting Emma down so she can go play. "Come in, sit."

"I can only stay for a minute, I gotta grab coffee on my way."

"Oh nonsense, I'll make you some and send you with one of our travel mugs, don't waste your money."

Her kindness makes you smile. Not only does your mother-in-law make the best coffee you've ever had, her warmth is always something that's comforted you. After you take a seat at the kitchen table you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Who's in my house?!" You hear a voice playfully yell.

Emma's squealing laugh rings through the house as you hear footsteps walk towards the direction she ran off in. Your mother-in-law puts a cup of coffee down in front of you and the smell is to die for.

"Thanks mom." You say with a smile.

"Good morning sunshine!" Looking over you see your father-in-law with Emma in his arms.

"Morning dad." You say as he kisses you on the cheek.

"Oh coffee? Michelle can you make me a cup?" He asks, looking over at his wife.

"Of course."

"So Katie, you excited for your first day at the new job?" He asks.

"I am, a little nervous, but I'm excited to start working again."

"Yeah it's about time." He says playfully.

"Richard." Michelle hisses as she puts his coffee down in front of him.

"I'm only joking!"

Michelle rolls her eyes at him and sits down at the table. "So which vineyard are you working at again?"

"Dimitrescu Estate."

"Oh right, I've been there a few times, it's a nice place. Very pretty, and they have great wine." She says.

"What are you doing there?" Richard asks.

"Marketing and social media, pretty much the same thing I did at the last place."

"That's right."

Looking down at your watch you realize the time.

"Crap I have to go or I'm gonna be late." You say, getting up.

Michelle gets up, grabs your coffee cup and pours it into a travel mug, pops the top onto it and hands it to you.

"There you go sweetheart."

"Thanks mom." You say, hugging her.

"Okay love, mommy has to go, have fun with Nana and Pop!" You place a kiss on Emma's head and the baby's face scrunches, signaling she's about to wail.

"Hey Emma? Wanna go to the park with me?" Richard asks.

Her face lights up at the word "park", meltdown averted.

"YES!" She screams.

"Thank you." You whisper to Richard and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for looking after her." You say as you head towards the door.

"We'll take her any day of the week!" Richard says.

"Love you honey." Michelle says.

"Love you guys too!"

"Good luck!" Richard calls out after her.

Once you're out the door Michelle swats Richard with a dishtowel.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"'About time?' Really Richard?" She scolds him.

"What? I was kidding, she knows I was!"

Michelle rolls her eyes at him and leaves the kitchen.

You jump into your car and plug in the address of the vineyard. You had been there a few years ago when you went to the wineries with your friends; hopping to and from the various establishments in the area, but that was it. Your first interview was over the phone, the second one, a Zoom interview, you couldn't even see your new boss' face because her webcam was broken. All you were able to hear was the woman's voice. It had a silky tone - sultry, even - if you were being honest. Aside from that, you knew nothing about her, you really weren't even sure if the woman you spoke with was the owner or just an employee.

Pulling up to the vineyard you put your car in park. You pull your necklace out of your shirt and hold onto it, your fingers tracing the outline of the heart shape. After taking a deep breath and exhaling, you drop the necklace back down under your shirt. You grab your bags and head inside.

The memories of the time you and your friends were here come flooding back as you walk in. You admire the ornate style of the room - it's just as pretty as it was when you were here last. As you look around you spot a beautiful grand piano tucked away in the corner and you take note of the jazz music softly playing over the speakers.

"Sorry, we don't open until 11." A slightly aggravated voice says.

You look over and see a young girl cleaning the bar, looking at you, visibly annoyed. She can't be older than 20, dark brown, almost black hair. She's wearing a tight black t-shirt with various silver necklaces dangling from her neck.

"Oh, I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist."

The girls demeanor softens, but not much.

"MOM!!" She yells towards the back. "MOM!!!"

A blond girl runs out from the kitchen area.

"Cassandra shut it, mom's on the phone!"

The dark haired girl, Cassandra, rolls her eyes.

"Can you take her to go see mom?" She asks the blond, nodding towards you.

"Nope, sorry, I have to go, I have class in a little bit."

"Bela pleaseeeee." Cassandra whines.

"No Cass, I'm leaving, bye!" The blond disappears into the kitchen again and Cassandra rolls her eyes.

"Follow me."

She leads you to the back of the winery where the offices are. There aren't many offices, but in each one there's someone diligently working.

Cassandra stops at the door furthest away and throws it open.

"Mom!"

The woman behind the desk snaps her attention up to her daughter with intensity in her eyes. Her phone pressed against her ear. She holds a finger up to Cassandra signaling for her to wait, but never breaks eye contact with her.

The woman is beautiful. Jet black hair with near perfect curls that fall just under her jawline. Gorgeous grey-blue eyes, full lips painted with the perfect shade of crimson red. She's wearing a white button down, the first few buttons undone - just enough to show off her large chest but covered up enough to still be professional. The sleeves are neatly rolled to her elbows, you also take note of her perfectly manicured nails, painted black. She's wearing layered, elegant gold necklaces that accentuate her neckline. She has a few rings and a matching bracelet on to pull the look together.

"Am nevoie de transport până săptămâna viitoare. . . Nu, abia așteaptă. . . Trebuie să plec. . . La revedere."

(I need the shipment by next week. . . No, it can't wait. . . I have to go. . . Goodbye.)

She places the phone into its cradle and her eyes snap back to Cassandra.

"What have I told you about yelling across the building?" Her voice is stern, matching the intensity in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I-"

"Were you dying?"

"What?"

Her question surprised and confused you too.

"Were you dying?"

"No?"

"Was one of your sisters dying or gravely injured?"

"No."

"Was there any emergency whatsoever?"

Cassandra sighs. "No."

"Then there is no reason for you to be screaming across my tasting room. Understood?"

"Yes mom." She says, hanging her head.

"Now what is it that you needed?" The woman's tone softens.

"The new girl is here. The social media whatever?"

The woman groans, putting her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Cassandra. You act like that in front of our new employee?" She grumbles. "Go, finish your morning tasks." She says, waving the girl off.

Cassandra lets out an exaggerated "UGH" accompanied by a dramatic eye roll and begins to walk away.

"Și dacă nu remediați această atitudine, vă voi trimite înapoi în România." She calls after her.

(And if you don't fix that attitude I will ship you back to Romania.)

"Sorry mom." Cassandra looks at her mom who raised eyebrow at her.

The woman nods her away.

"I apologize for that, she can be quite difficult sometimes." She says as her eyes follow her daughter while she walks away. When Cassandra is out of view her eyes snap to you.

"Oh, it's no worry at all." You say with a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, take a seat." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.

The woman reaches her hand out across her desk as you sit.

"Alcina Dimitrescu, owner and operator of Dimitrescu Estate."

Your hand meets hers for a firm handshake. "Katie Moore, it's great to finally meet you as well."

"Is Katie short for anything?" She asks.

"Uh, yeah, Kathleen." You say.

"Kathleen, what a beautiful name. Do you prefer Katie over Kathleen?"

"Oh it doesn't really matter to me. I'll respond to both."

"Wonderful. Well then Kathleen, welcome. We'll go over the job responsibilities. I'll have you fill out some paperwork and then I'll show you around the facility."

"Sounds good."

Alcina goes over what the job requirements are, what she expects of you, where the person who was in your position had left off, the usual.

"And you will get a company laptop, you can leave it here, take it home, doesn't matter much to me. As long as it's well taken care of." She picks up the phone and presses a few numbers on t he keypad and you hear the intercom go off.

"Cassandra, my office please." She hangs the phone up and looks back at you. "Cassandra has set up your laptop, if there's anything else you need, any programs you use that aren't installed, she can take care of that for you."

Cassandra walks into the office, seemingly in a better mood than earlier.

"What's up mom?"

"Can you please bring me Kathleen's laptop."

"On it." She says and walks away.

"Now for the paperwork. I'll have you fill out these and then I'll take down some of your information." She says as she hands you a W2 and some other new employee paperwork.

She hands you a pen and you begin to fill out the paperwork on her desk as she turns her attention back to her computer.

"Here you go mom." Cassandra says, handing her mom a laptop box.

"Thank you draga. Almost done with your morning tasks?"

"Yup, just gotta put out the spill trays and then I'm done."

"Excellent, thank you draga mea."

Cassandra leaves as you finish filling out the paperwork. You trade her the paperwork for the laptop box and place it on the chair next to you.

"Okay, now I just need some of your information."

She takes down your address, phone number, birthdate, etc.

"And who is your emergency contact? God forbid something were to happen."

"Uh, Jake-" You stop yourself, shaking your head as you feel your heart sink. "Sorry, uh," Alcina looks at you over her reading glasses. "It'll be my mom, I guess, Deborah Wilson."

Alcina takes down your moms information and places her glasses on her desk.

"Excellent, now that that's out of the way, I will show you the facility. You can leave your things here."

Alcina pushes her chair away from her desk and stands up, you're taken back at how tall she is. She's damn near 7 feet tall. Alcina is easily a foot taller than you. With your work heels you're 5'4" on a good day. In her heels, Alcina is easily 6'5"-6'6".

You take notice of Alcina's full outfit - and her body. Her black stilettos, high waisted, wide legged dress pants accentuate her long legs. A thick belt with a black belt buckle that frames her waist, showing off her round hips. Her ensemble is reminiscent of the 1940s-1950s, but with a modern twist. It's obvious she has a great sense of style.

Alcina walks effortlessly through the halls in her stilettos as she shows you around the facility. She tells you what each room is, what its purpose is for and tells you a little bit of history of the place. She explains that there are a few other buildings on the property where the grapes are sent to and where the wine is made and bottled, but that this is the main building. Alcina takes you through the kitchen and into the vineyard a bit to show the different grapes that are put into making the wine.

Next on the tour, she brings you down into the wine cellar. You were expecting a dreary basement, but you're surprised when you see a beautiful wine cellar. It looks like something out of a movie.

Wine racks line the walls from floor to ceiling, housing hundreds - maybe even a thousand - bottles of wine. The stone archway along with the wooden accents and shelves give the room a rustic yet elegant feel. There's a gorgeous wooden table in the center with four chairs. The set looks like it's custom made.

As you look around the room you see Alcina walk over to one of the racks. She moves a wine barrel to the side like it weighed nothing.

"Even if that thing is empty, it still has to weigh a ton." You think to yourself.

Alcina examines the rack and carefully pulls a bottle off of it.

"And this, this is what started it all." She says, handing you the bottle.

As you examine the bottle you note the beautiful gold and red details around it. It looks expensive. The label on the front reads:

"Sanguis Virginis."

"Precisely, Romanian for Maiden's Blood." Alcina says with a smile as she takes the bottle and returns it to its place.

You don't even realize the confused expression on your face until you hear Alcina chuckle at it.

"Obviously, not made with real blood. My ancestors originate from Romania, my great-grandfather it was I believe who first began making Sanguis Virginis, well over a hundred years ago at his vineyard in Romania. Eventually the business was passed down to me, however I decided to take it in a bit of a different direction. Since I was already established here in the US when I acquired the business, I purchased this property and turned it into what it is today. We've expanded our collection and now we make over 25 different wine. And I import other things such as ciders and beers from both Romania and local breweries for our customers to enjoy. No longer do we just make and sell the wine to distributers."

Alcina looks around the wine cellar with pride, you can see the passion for her family's business in her eyes.

"Any questions?"

"No, I think you covered everything. It's beautiful down here."

"Why thank you. The cellar is my personal favorite room on the entire property."

"I can see why, it's stunning."

You take in the rest of your surroundings. The warm wood absorbs the lighting, giving the room a soft yet bright glow. It's a large cellar but somehow it still feels cozy.

"Alright, lets head back upstairs, shall we? We should be opening in a few minutes and I like to do a once-over to make sure everything is in place." Alcina says.

"Sounds good."

Alcina leads you out of the wine cellar and back up to the tasting room. Cassandra and another bartender are behind the bar, drying glasses and putting them away. Alcina swipes her finger across the piano, inspects it, and nods in approval. You notice her glace at the piano again, looking at it with adoration.

"Do you play?" You ask.

"Lifetimes ago." She says with a smile. "But I wasn't very good."

"Mom what are you talking about?" Cassandra says from the bar. "You're one of the best piano players I've ever heard."

"Thank you draga." She says, smiling at her daughter.

After her inspection is complete she walks to the front doors and opens them, pulling the doorstop down with the bottom of her heel. She flips the "closed" sign over to "open" and makes her way to the massive floor to ceiling windows that line the wall across from the bar. She unlocks each window and pushes on the side of the frame to open them, making sure each window is open at the same angle.

"She's so anal retentive when she opens." Cassandra says, half complaining and half just saying it out loud.

"I can hear you." Alcina says from across the room.

Cassandra rolls her eyes and continues to put the glasses away.

Making her way over the the double glass doors leading to the outside patio, Alcina props them open allowing a cool summer breeze through the tasting room.

She gives the room another once-over. When she's satisfied she nods to herself again and looks at Cassandra.

"Everything looks wonderful. If you need me, you know where to find me. Kathleen," She says, turning to you. "lets finish getting you set up."

Alcina leads you back to her office. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and a sudden chill runs up your spine. Quickly taking it out, you see a text from Michelle. Your heart begins to race as you open the message. A sigh of relief is released when you realize it's just some photos of Emma, covered in flour, helping Michelle make cookies.

"Everything alright?" Alcina says.

Focused on opening the text message, you didn't even realize that you stopped following Alcina.

"Oh, yes, sorry." You say as you catch up with her. "Just my mother-in-law, she's watching my daughter today and was giving me an update."

"You have a daughter?" Alcina asks, a little surprised as they walk into her office.

"Yeah, Emma, she's about 3 and a half." You say, sitting back down.

Alcina glances down at your hands, taking notice of an absent wedding ring on your left ring finger. She also notices a ring that looks like it could be a wedding band on your right ring finger.

"How sweet. It's a fun age. Although from my experience with the girls, it's the terrible three's that are the hardest. Two was an easy age."

"I wholeheartedly agree with that. She's wonderful but likes to get herself into all kinds of things. Luckily, besides her insatiable curiosity for things that can hurt her, she's a really good kid."

Alcina laughs, pulling a smile across your face.

"Children are wonderful, until they become teenagers that is. That's when the real fun begins." She says sarcastically.

"Oh, I could only imagine. It makes me cringe as a parent now when I think of all of the things I said and did when I was a teenager."

"Oh, so you were a bad kid?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

A light blush creeps across your cheeks. "I wouldn't say I was a bad kid. At least I wasn't worse than your average teenager."

Alcina gives you a smirk, the corner of her lip curled into a half smile.

"Is she flirting with me?" The thought flashes across your mind but you quickly dismiss it. This is your new boss, Alcina's just being nice, it's your first day here. There's no way she's flirting with you right now.

"So, I will show you to your office and let you get yourself settled." Alcina says.

Grabbing your bag and the laptop box, Alcina leads you to the room closest to her office and flicks the lights on.

It's a modest little office, on the left you see an L shaped desk in the corner against the glass window facing the hallway. On top sits two monitors, a desk chair and a small desk lamp. To the right is a small empty bookshelf. The office isn't anything fancy, but it's yours, and you're surprisingly excited about it.

"Please feel free to decorate it how you see fit." Alcina says, checking her watch. "I have a meeting in a few minutes, but I'll stop by again this afternoon to check and see how things are going. Cassandra should have left you a list of our social media logins." She says, walking over to the desk and picking up a sheet of paper. "Here it is. Take a look at them and when I get back I'd love to hear your thoughts on how you think they're doing and of course, what could be improved." She says, handing you the paper. "You did mention on your resume photography skills, yes?"

"Yes, and some videography and video editing skills as well."

"Excellent. The channels were being run by my eldest, Bela. But since she's has an internship beginning soon she no longer has the time. And since our last marketing director left, things have been in a bit of a disarray. Hopefully it won't be too overwhelming." She says, trying to gauge your reaction.

"I'm always up for a good challenge." You say with a smile.

Alcina gives a nod of approval and spins around on her heel to leave.

"I must be off. I'll be back in a little while to check in, if there's anything you need please seek out Cassandra. If she's doing what she's supposed to, you'll find her behind the bar in the tasting room."

"Sounds good, thank you."

"And Kathleen," Alcina says, turning back towards you. "Welcome to Dimitrescu Estate."

[jamneuromain]

Wild Child Chapter 6

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

A/N: I'm sorry it took me half a year before squeezing(?) out a new chapter😬😅 thank you all for loving WC!Ari and Reader, and last but not least, a huge thanks to @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory who provided the wonderful idea of Ari and allergies😌❤️ and as always, thank you to @rogerswifesblog/@rogerswifesblog-updates for her support and endurance of my on-and-off inspirations😘❤️

The bodyguard, Ethan, quietly followed you as you walked with Ari, as you were introducing your house and your family to your fake boyfriend.

“This is the ballroom.”

Servants pulled open a huge door as you walked through. You gazed upwards, pointing at various portraits on the walls, “These are my ancestors. Hardly knew any of them…” Your fingernail raked through a tiny bronze plate which had your name on it, “This is a family portrait when I was … five?”

You sounded not so sure about yourself.

Ari raised his head and saw the oil painting, that had a girl in a blue dress in it, along with her parents, who looked like they were deeply in love.

It looked like a happy family.

Though he doubted that was the case.

Your eyes landed on your mother’s face in the portrait.

“My mother is a nice woman.” You whispered. Too low even for yourself to hear, “She is going to like you.”

Ari did not comment.

Your gaze wandered to the name on the bronze plate. As by Ballenian Law, she took your father’s last name. Losing her own. “You would think that married to my father, she is what, something similar to him. But no, she is the nicest mom on earth.” Your voice grew louder, clearing your throat, introducing the only woman, probably the only person that mattered in your life.

There was a small smile on the corner of your lips. Small but firm.

“We had a writing contest in school today.” You walked into the room with hands folded in front of your abdomen, walking like a true lady indeed, before handing your backpack to one of the servants, thanking them sweetly. Like a true lady.

“That sounds interesting.” Your mother tugged your hand so that you would sit by her side while putting the crochet and yarn away from the sofa, “How did it go?”

You chose to sit on the sofa's armrest and swung your legs happily. You did win a prize, after all, you deserved happiness.

“I-”

“Put your feet down, sweetie.” Your mother kindly advised. Softly but curtly. She pursed her lips together, frowning as if swinging your legs would invite horrible viruses into your calves. Or worse, rudeness. Landing a hand on your knee, she suggested, “You are twelve years old, not two. That is not ladylike. And sit on the sofa, not the armrest, while you are at it.”

Mother is always right. You thought. Even though the rules are annoying and the ways she told me to get my father back never worked.

You did as told, sitting beside her without any further leg movements, and said, “The teacher told us to write about our future dreams.”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetie.” Your mother nodded, “What did you write about?”

“I wrote that…” The word journalist turned one hundred and eighty degrees at your tongue. Somehow, even though it was the true answer, you did not feel comfortable letting it out. You swallowed thickly, making up a word on the spot, “Diplomat. I wrote that I wanted to be a diplomat. Helping countries exchange communication and building allies, that sort of thing.”

The corner of your mother’s lips twitched lightly in amusement. “Quite a dream, darling,” she complimented you half-heartedly, “Though why not be a Princess? You can do all that while being a Princess and taking care of your family as well. Like a superwoman. You have always wanted to be a superwoman, haven’t you?”

Yes, and that was five years ago when I read the first comic book ever in my life. You answered, silently, deep down, but your forced smile was betraying you.

“Don’t you want to be a Princess, my dear?” Your mother seemed puzzled, “That is the goal we have always worked for.”

No, I don’t. “Yes, of course.” You answered, sickly sweet like the industrial sugary flavor, “I just thought that maybe the Prince won’t like me. I have never met him before …”

“Oh nonsense.” Your mother huffed in annoyance, “He is going to love my precious little girl. You are going to fall in love and have babies. But of course, he shall marry you first …”

“Miss?”

A servant approached your sides, gesturing to the living room, “His Lordship is ready for you.”

You did not take long to hand the roses to one of the servants, ordering them to put the flowers into a vase in your room, before asking Ari to join you in the living room.

“Just follow my lead.” You whispered, folding your hand over your abdomen, you stepped into the living room.

If your eyes did not mistake you, your father’s arm landed on the back of the chair, then on his other arm, finally settling on the side of his body. He was either posing for the next cover shot of GQ, which you were fairly certain that there were neither cameras nor photographers in this room, or he was nervous.

Nervous? That was absurd for a man like your father. You scoffed. He must be trying to intimidate your fake boyfriend. And not very successful at it, you might add.

Behind you, Ari narrowed his eyes.

Which made your father nearly jump from his seat.

“Well,” Your father stood up from his large armchair, his eyes darting from you to Ari, and back to you again, “I take it this is the … man – date, eh, boyfriend, you are trying to introduce me to.”

“Yes.” You replied shortly, “Guy, this is my father. Father, Guy Thomas.”

Ari strode forward, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“No, the pleasure is all my - aye.” Your father grimaced as if he had a living frog shoved down his throat. His pitch literally went up an octave. He could practically feel the bones being crushed under the iron grip.

“Shall we, um, take a seat?” You gestured towards the large sofa, tugging Ari by his sleeve. An act out of fear that your father would flip any moment.

It was one of your motives to piss your father off, for starters. A not-so-subtle defiance of “fuck-you” towards the ridiculous marriage you were bound to since the day you were born. But it wasn’t worth it to cause a huge fuss for your father to wreck chaos in your home and your family as well, particularly when you had yet to meet your mother since your return: you feared that he would take it out on your mother, which wasn’t surprising, seeing that your father adored violence when he found he would not be winning by his shitty reasoning.

You were dancing dangerously between the lines of your freedom and planned to use up every drop of it carefully.

“That would be lovely.” Ari smiled softly at you, sitting by your side.

Your father clenched and unclenched his fist behind his back. Taking the seat opposite you, and asked the servants to bring some tea.

Asked. Not demanded.

It was either you woke up today in a completely different world, or that your father had banged his head on the coffee table and another soul was taking over his body –

“So,” began your father, smoothing his hand over his prized tux, “I heard that you were doing business?”

“Ah, yes.” Ari covered your hand with his, squeezing your rigid fingers that were probably leaving permanent sweat stains on his suit jacket, “From Thomas, Kit & Co. A family business.”

“Sure. Sure. Sure.” Your father fumbled with his cufflink absent-mindedly. He nearly spilled his tea onto the Corinthian leather under his ass while taking the cup from the servant. Looking like a cherry bomb that was about to go off, he sure did spend the entire sane part of his brain preventing him from yelling at the servant. Your father grumbled with a detectable fury over his face, “Please, have some tea. I hope you, er, enjoy it. Milk? Honey?”

He offered but none answered.

“Hope no one is allergic to this.” Your father grunted under his breath.

You peeked inside the fine china.

Ugh. Fruit tea.

Ari, on the other hand, took a small sip of the burning liquid. He did not even wince.

You placed the tray onto the table, and decided to break the silence, “Father, I thought my mother would present. I’d very much like to introduce my boyf- um, boyfriend to her.”

“Your mother is unwell.” He replied coldly.

Ari cleared his throat, taking another sip of the thing that could barely be called tea.

Who the hell on earth invented boiling fruit and called it tea??

“I, hmm, suppose she would present at the wedding.” Your father added, in a creepily kind tone that a doting parent would use.

A sharp click.

Ari’s tea cup went back on the tray before he put it down.

Your father gulped.

Ari reached into his pockets, turning to look at you, “Speaking of, sweetheart, I prepared a gift for my darling fiancé.”

Your head snapped in his direction. Your eyes bulged just a little because you agreed on fake dating, not fake marrying!

Engagement? What the heck was he talking about? Or was he trying to insinuate the fact that you got engaged to a completely random person? That bastard.

But the velvet box lying in his hands, the box that had a watch inside, the box you handed to him a while ago, telling you that he was, in fact, sticking to the plan, albeit improvising from the script you negotiated.

“Oh my gosh!” You squealed in delight. Your voice sounded painfully forced even to your own ears, “Thank you, babe. What have you got for me?”

A watch, of course. You knew already.

Yet you played your part, opening the box like a surprised girlfriend.

Wonder how that played out. Deep down, you scoffed at your near-lousy performance. Given the chance, you would undoubtedly take an acting class someday.

“I – ahem, appreciate how you value my daughter, Your – uh, your reputation precedes you, Mister …”

Your father clearly struggled with your fake boyfriend’s name, so you helpfully chirped up, “Thomas. Guy Thomas.”

“Right.” Your father shot you a warning glare, “Mister Thomas. But – You see – Eh, excuse me, my thoughts have been incoherent.”

And since when did your father become so polite to just about anyone? You couldn’t help but wonder if your father woke up this morning and had those fancy mushrooms or special brownies.

Ari smiled, patiently waiting for what your father was about to say.

“All I am trying to say is that,” Your father sat up from his spot on the couch, his fat purple lips pushed a greasy smile over his revolting face, “It would be such a shame if our, um, noble lineage died down, no?”

Ah. So that was his plan. You tried hard not to sneer.

Playing the blue blood card so that your fake boyfriend would pledge either allegiance or admit he was no match for such a noble family.

You rolled your eyes when your father was not looking.

Typical.

You put the velvet box away, but not before placing the watch around your wrist. What your father suggested could be easily solved, “I’m sure we could work out on having a son of mine taking my family name. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Ari did not reply, much to your confusion.

He simply raised the cup to his lips again, blowing the steam away from the edge of the cup. He did not drink, but said, “It would.”

The corner of your father’s eyes twitched in ecstatic, “Then I-”

Ari interrupted him before your father could finish his sentence, “To my knowledge, my dear fiancé is your only child?”

“Girlfriend.” You hissed under your breath, pinching his waist which was seemingly made out of metal, because he had not waivered, even though you had pinched him.

“Sorry.” His arm surrounded your shoulders, apologized by saying your name, his eyes had nothing but warmth inside, calming your frantic heartbeat, “Our sweet Y/N here, has no siblings if memory serves me correctly.”

What did having a brother or sister has anything to do with the succession of your family title? You’d rather throw it into the Atlantic than have anything to do with it, especially since your father would possibly be accepting the title soon, considering that he was the only son of your grandfather.

“Yes, but-” Your father stammered.

Your blood ran cold at the thought of something. Something that might tear you and your mother’s life apart.

What if … what if your father had a son?

A bastard had no way of taking the title, which meant that the only way for your so-called lineage to continue, was for your father to divorce your mother, and marry his mistress.

Losing the chance to marry the Prince was one thing.

That you give zero fuck about.

But your mother …

Your mother would be devastated.

You could practically hear her disappointment if this all went down.

“I’ve raised you, fed you. This is not what we hoped for…”

Blood drained from your face.

“Then that is settled.” Said Ari softly.

Settled? The heck had been settled? What was he doing for crying out loud?

“But Your-” Your father choked on his own spit, coughing, “ah, your parents wouldn’t mind, would it?”

“That would depend.”

Why are these two speaking in riddles? Has the topic of this conversation taken a strange turn when you were thinking about you and your mother’s future?

“Depend on what, may I ask?” Your father left his seat, leaning forward so hard that he could have his necktie soaked with the fruit tea from his cup.

Ari had his gaze land on you.

You, on the other hand, had no clue of what was going on, or what were they talking about.

Things were truly getting out of hand, and you did not enjoy it.

“I thought it is only appropriate if my mother joined us too.” Your palms were getting sweaty. It has been a long time since you talked to your mother. The last time was when she worked with your father to coax you back – the phone call that contained both your father's and your mother’s voice.

You did not appreciate that when you ended up in your own room and no way out, but she was your mother, and she brought you up, no matter the means or education purposes.

“She is unwell.” Your father squeezed the words from his teeth, “I’ll arrange a meeting when she turns out better. You, however -”

Ari raised his hand to pause the conversation.

That hand curled into a fist in front of his nose.

He furrowed his brows.

And sneezed. Loudly.

Your father's face turned into a spectacular turquoise shade.

"Sorry." Ari sounded unapologetic, "I think I'm allergic to your bullshit."

Though your father did not find it amusing for one bit, you literally snorted out laughter, burying your face in your hands and shaking uncontrollably, giggling like a maniac.

… which is why you did not witness either the victorious smirk on Ari’s lips, or the scene where your father rose from his seat, his face bloated like a cartoon character, and tripped over the carpet when he exited the room.

“Tell me about her, Ari.” Queen Olivia tapped on her glass with a silver spoon, signaling the servant to pour another cup of red, “I heard from your head security that you have been spending quite some time with her.”

Drinking down some mineral water to make his mind sharp, Ari replied, “She’s cute. Funny.” His memory trotted back to the little conversation about your epic plan to piss off your father, he couldn’t help but grin, “She reminds me of you, Mother, when we used to head to the Royal Garden-”

And spend time with him without the watchful eyes of his grandmother. The old croon – bless her soul – did everything she could trying to pry Ari away from his mother, for fear that Queen Olivia’s “American blood” could pollute the precious prince, even though Queen Olivia was very much part of the royal family, born and raised as a proper princess.

He didn’t have the best family in the world, so to speak.

A small glimpse of upset flickered over Queen Olivia’s expression. Like her son, she also remembered when the queen, Victor’s late mother, wanted Olivia to give birth to more sons, threatening her with the custody of Ari.

“… which is why I have made up my mind for my coronation decree.”

Now that spiked her interest and freed her from her painful memories.

A coronation decree is the first legal command that a king would issue. Upon this sets the stone of domination for the new king. It could be as vague as “We would pay more attention to the education of rural areas” or as specific as “inviting the Prime Minister from the UK for a visit”. Of course, the first one would give more room for interpretation, hence encouraged.

Ari wiped his mouth with a napkin, before saying thoughtfully, “For my first decree, I would grant the same succession rights for daughters and sons.”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj

@thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies

@autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat @boo8008

@mrsevans90 @bradfordmyworld @delldenaro @molisighs @otpcutie

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

[keii-starz]

The Waves of the Eternal Sea

PROLOGUE: "A REFUGE"

author's note: so sorry to the people who wanted to read Tourmaline's story, and never got to!!! Instead, I gift you the prologue of a new story of mine to make up for it! It's set in fukuoka, japan! (have this while you wait)

divider by: @/saradika

Slowly losing my breath, I could barely feel like I had the strength and energy to run anymore. I wanted to run away so badly. I so desperately want to just abandon everything and just run away from this situation. School, poverty…barely being able to feed myself…having to put up with everything my mother says to me and every time she has a whole childish tantrum, sometimes for a reason I’m not even sure of. I’m just a kid! What is a twelve-year old like me supposed to do in this wretched situation?!

Though…at this very moment, as I stop to catch a breath and calm down, I realize I’m at the beach I’ve always loved visiting as a kid. A tear trickles down my face, as I recall all the happy memories I’ve had at this place. Somehow, just looking at the sea seems to calm me down instantly. Slowly, I sat down on the cool sand and wiped my tears, quietly enjoying the view of the sea.

Just moments later, I hear steps quickly rushing behind me, steps which sound like that of a small child. Then, that very child bumped into me. 

“--Ah! Oh…I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would be here at this time of the night..”

It was a boy..he looked of a similar age as me…or maybe as tall as the other kids at school would look. I could tell he must have been running away from something, too. Or maybe running from someone. He had a pretty appearance, but his eyes were red, and you could see how wet his face must have been from tears. It was obvious he was crying. It was a sad sight to see.

Looking up at the boy, I calmly said, “It’s fine. It’s not like I own this place anyway. I don’t mind. You’re here for the sea, right? If you want, you can just sit next to me and enjoy the view.”

At least, from my perspective, I seemed calm. The boy probably thought so, too. Without a word, he sat down next to me and started to stare at the sea longingly. It was a strange look on his face, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I had the exact same expression on my face, too. Maybe it was a few hours or so that had passed by, but it had been a long time since we started, and that was when the boy started a bit of conversation before he left.

“...How old are you? You’re smaller than me so you’re younger than me, right? Or you could be the same age as me, maybe. Sometimes people don’t look the age they are. Oh! Speaking of, what’s your name? I'm Shiro Aikawa!”

Shiro seems to be a pretty talkative boy..bright and positive, too. I do wonder what could have happened to him before coming here, but I’m sure it’s not my business to ask. I hesitated a bit before speaking, and looked up at the night sky for a bit, then looked back at him.

“M-my name is Emi..Shimizu, I’m…twelve.” Looks like my nerves are worked up again. Maybe I’m just not that used to speaking with other people yet. I was doing pretty good earlier.

Shiro’s eyes lit up. “Twelve! Woah! Hehe, we’re the same age! I actually just turned twelve today! Or yesterday? I’m not expecting a happy birthday or anything though, it’d probably have ended by now, after all. Plus, I think the sun is rising…”

“I-I see. Happy birthday. E-even though it’s over, I do hope you had a great one. I’m glad you got to see the sun rise, at least” I smiled at Shiro as I wished him a happy birthday.

He scratched his head a bit and chuckled. “Haha…well it wasn’t the best, but probably better than the other ones I’ve had so far. Still horrible, though. But seeing this pretty view and getting to talk to you made it better. I should probably get going now..It was nice to meet you.”

I nodded to him as I saw him slowly disappearing into the distance. I think…I may not be as alone, for now. I hope we’ll see each other again.

Eventually, we would get to see each other often, both upset with their lives, we ran to the sea. Sometimes, we would talk about our troubles, but not all the time. Other times, we would just leave each other alone and bask in each other and the sea’s company. The fish looked so peaceful swimming down there. Perhaps I could dare to even say there might be hope lingering by for the both of us in the future. All I knew, was that the sea…became our refuge.

@angelhairpastawithherbs @the-banana-0verlord @rayisalive @chocodaffodil @xxoomiii @red-viewe @officialdaydreamer00 @eynnwwyjth @cheezy-moon @crheativity

[polandspringz]

Chapter Summary:

The holidays are here, and MC has been promoted from managing multiple departments to multiple dates.

Story Summary: Set in a modern society, where there are no demons or angels, the Celestial and Devildom Corporations have held a longstanding rivalry as the two most wealthy and influential brands in this city. After years of competition, they surprised the public with news of a partnership. Their first joint effort: Sponsoring one special intern each who will work to unite the businesses using their outsider perspective and communication skills that the old CEOs, and their heirs, seem to fail at. You, MC, thought you were selected as one of them. Apparently someone misread the skill section of your resume though, and hired you as a family therapist and mystery detective too.

Chapter will be posted below, but please click the link to comment on AO3 and leave kudos!

Exams were over.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you finished checking over your Scantron for the five hundredth time, being sure-sure that you didn’t accidentally skip a question and fill in all the bubbles one off, and that your name was an actual word and not just the scribbles your sleep deprived and study-crammed brain believed it was. You quickly got up, handed your paper in, and as quietly as possible, scurried back to your seat where you grabbed all your belongings and escaped the classroom, unfortunately failing as you banged your shin on the doorframe in your haste.

Satan was waiting for you outside, sitting on a raised platform for a display in the art building. A book held open with a single hand, his thumb pressing against the inside of the spine and keeping it crisply open, he smiled and looked up when your shadow approached and cast over him.

“All done?”

“All done!” You stretched your arms in the air high and cheered. He chuckled at your childish moment and closed the book, tucking it away and standing up himself, pushing off his long and lanky legs until he was at his full height in front of you.

“Congratulations are in order then.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t know my grade yet.”

“MC.” He leveled you with a serious stare, incredulous at your statement, “You have almost a 4.0 GPA. You were spouting facts at me for the past two days, there’s no way you didn’t vomit all of that out perfectly onto your test.”

“Ugh, even if it's someone like you saying it, the word vomit still sounds gross. Don’t use it,” you said, slinging your backpack onto your back and making a disgusted face.

“Would you prefer retch? What about regurgitate?”

“I feel like regurgitate is the more appropriate one in this scenario, oh-mister-literature-major.”

“I’ll use whatever phrase gets you to walk faster. Come on, let’s get you home and to sleep already. I don’t want to have to carry you.”

“But my brain is soooo tired,” you whined dramatically, and he pushed you forward as you dug your heels into the ground.

“But not your legs. Besides, carrying you is Mammon’s job, not mine.”

You flushed, and rocked back onto the balls of your feet, hurrying out of the art building doors. Satan could be heard laughing softly behind you.

**

Although the holiday break for the D.C. didn’t start until the 29th, Diavolo had been kind and merciful to the college students among his employees and gifted Satan and you an early day off from the company. Although-although, from Lucifer’s perspective, only you had an official day off from work. Satan was just off from school, as he was still unaware of his more permanent position in the company at the moment. While he knew that his brother skulked around the company’s publishing department without authorization, and that Satan had adopted a uniform similar to what the rest of the department heads wore, he was still oblivious to the conspiracy that Diavolo and Satan had been enacting.  You tried not to dwell on it for too long, for fear that you would vomit the words out with anxiety.

Nonetheless, the two of you had the day off. So, while the rest of the brothers were suffering at their desk jobs so close to a holiday, you and Satan were spending the day sprawled across various surfaces, going from passed out in your beds to half asleep at the dining room table in your bowls of cereal, draped across arm chairs, to finally in a heap on the couch as a book lay discarded on the floor, slipped from the blonde’s fingers, and the television remote upside down and the batteries exposed as the drop popped the cover off the back.

You were fast asleep until your phone began to buzz, pinned somewhere on the couch between your pile of limbs and the cushions, and you both began to grumble and squirm in an attempt to find it. Satan ended up kicking you off in his annoyance, dropping you onto the floor directly onto your ass, but your phone slipped out and into your hands, so it all worked out in the end. You glanced at the caller I.D.

Levi.

Wait a minute. Levi was calling you?

Not texting?

Your sleep-addled brain jolted itself awake and you hurried to accept the call.

There was a moment of silence on both ends. You had expected him to say something first.

“H-hello?”

“...MC.”

“Yes, Levi? It’s me? Why are you calling? Are you okay?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m okay. Why are you acting like you were worried about me or something?”

The defensiveness in Levi’s voice was harsh, but not unfamiliar. You knew he was hiding something.

“Levi,” you said calmly, “You know I won’t judge you or anything. It’s just that I know you hate phone calls, so I was surprised when you didn’t just text me instead.”

“It’s because… It’s because it’s important.”

You hummed in agreement, and crossed your legs, “I figured. What’s up?” You said sweetly, trying to coax him with patience.

“A-are you free tonight?”

“I am. Why?”

“B-because the- becausethemoviecomesouttonightandyoupromisedyouwould-”

“Wait, Levi, what? The movie?”

“See? I knew it was stupid. You stupid normie. Forgetting about the promise you made me and-”

The promise? Oh. You sat up, “The Ruri-chan movie, right? I didn’t forget, Levi. I just woke up a minute ago, my brain is still a little slow. Of course I’ll go with you. Can we still get tickets though?”

“...I bought them already. I bought them when they went on sale months ago.”

“Months ago, huh? You’re really excited about this, huh? Guess I better dress up then.” You rubbed your eyes sleepily, thoughts slowly coming together in your brain, “Wait a second, months ago?” Your brain pieced together images of your calendar, and Levi had only brought the movie up to you a few weeks ago. Did that mean then-?

“It’s not what you think!” He squawked on the other end, “I just- I just accidentally bought an extra ticket, and then I needed to find someone else to go with. No- wait! I meant that I didn’t want to sit next to anyone weird so I bought the seats around me so that I would be left alone!”

“Does that mean you don’t want me sitting next to you?”

“No! That’s not- You’re-! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The movie’s at midnight so just be ready by ten o’clock! You better not fall asleep during the movie or I’ll never forgive you!”

“Aye, aye, captain Levi,” you saluted, “I’ll go back to my bed so I’ll be all rested up for later.”

“I’ll be home soon, so I’ll make sure to wake you up in time!”

“Thank you, Levi. Bye bye,” you shut your eyes as you waved at the wall across from you, slowly pulling the phone away as you pressed down on the power button, ending the call. Satan shuffled around behind you, sitting up. You looked back at him, seeing how his blonde bangs were sticking up in all different directions from being face down on the couch.

“You’re going out tonight?”

“Yeah, I had made a deal with Levi a few weeks ago. But I don’t mind. I just have to lose this headache.”

“Post finals exhaustion does that to you. To us, I guess. Come back to bed?”

“Don’t phrase it like that around Mammon, unless you want to get your head ripped off. And you were the one who kicked me off the couch.”

“Your phone was annoying me. Come on.”

It was rare for Satan to whine, but you guessed sleepiness did that to any of the brothers. You accepted his hand and crawled back onto the cushions, flopping down again. Satan remained sitting, reaching over and rattling with something before he held that something out in front of your lips.

“Tylenol. Open.”

You obliged and he leaned over to fetch one of your water bottles off the coffee table.

**

“Levi, you look fine! Come on, let’s go already-!”

You were tugging on his arm, careful not to pull on any of the ribbon tails and ruffles that were fluttering about between the game of tug of war.

“No! I can’t! Let me get changed first! It’s stupid! I look stupid! I know I do!”

“We’re going to be late-! Come on!”

You yanked with all your strength and stumbled backwards through the doorway into the hall, sending Levi tumbling with you, revealing his state to the rest of the household who had been watching your struggle curiously.

While you had opted for something comfortable for going to the movies, Levi had decided to go all out. Well, he wasn’t Levi right now, he was a perfect recreation of Ruri-chan, wig, contacts, and all. And while he looked stunning and made your jaw drop, he unfortunately mistook your reaction and began crying and slamming the door in your face.

But you had gotten him out of his room. So step one was done.

He was sitting in a heap of his skirt and petticoat, on the verge of tears now feeling all the eyes of his brothers on him, but you didn’t have time to dwell on that. You grabbed him by the wrist again and pulled him to his feet, marching down the hall to the front door.

“Do you have the tickets?”

“H-Huh? Yes, they’re on my phone-”

“Is your phone charged?”

“I have a portable battery with me!”

“And?”

“And a wire!” He said between sniffles.

You got to the entranceway, and stuffed your feet into your shoes without letting go of Levi, still worried he would bolt the moment you did, but he seemed too occupied sniffling and trying not to rub his makeup off his face as he stood there waiting for you. When you stood back up, you took a good look at him, and sighed.

“Wait right here. Don’t run back in your room, you hear me?”

You didn’t wait for his response. You went back to his bedroom and glanced around until you spotted it, grabbing the bag off of his dresser. You marched back past the stares until you reached the sniffles again, and squatted down so you could place the pouch on your legs as you fished around in it.

“What are you-?”

“Shush. I’m fixing your makeup.”

 You found the foundation he had been using and dabbed it on top of the eyeliner and mascara that was starting to blur underneath his eyes, and then found the brush he had been using and added a new swirl of pink on his lower lash line. You inspected his face for another minute, trying to see if anything else needed tweaking.

The makeup bag was heavy in your hands, and a distant part of your mind thought about if only Asmo was here, maybe Levi would be more confident.

But there was no time for that. And besides, Levi seemed pretty adept at makeup himself, based on what he had done before you walked in, and all the products in the bag seemed to be his own as well. If you didn’t think that before, well, the obvious Ruri-chan collaboration branding on all the products solidified it.

“Alright. We’re going out! We’ll be back late! Don’t wait up!” You called to the others, mainly to Lucifer, as you took Levi’s hand and opened the front door. You saw the eldest lift his hand in brisque acknowledgment, but you didn’t miss the smile that was pulling at his lips from just over the newspaper.

You and Levi walked through the snowfall, hurrying across town to the theater where the premiere would be happening. Levi was still panicking, begging for you to take a cab because of all the normies staring at the two of you, but traffic was terrible right now and-

You turned to him with your hands on your hips, clicking your tongue as you looked him up and down.

“Do you really want to wrinkle your dress before we get there?”

“H-huh?”

“If we go in a car your cosplay is going to be ruined! R-u-i-n-e-d. You hear me? You worked so hard on this, we want it to look perfect when we get to the theater in case people want to take pictures or something, don’t we? Now come on.”

You grabbed Levi’s hand again, but when you moved forward, he stalled, jolting you to a stop. He was standing there with his mouth agape slightly.

“What?”

“It’s just… You…” His mouth floundered over the words as he seemed caught in a daze looking at you, until…

“Asmo’s really rubbed off on you, huh?”

You swore you had been knocked off your feet.

You blamed it on the lighting. The damn snowfall, the warm glow of the streetlight, the atmosphere was all too alike some drama or something you had seen on tv. Levi’s smile was radiant, bigger than it had been in a while, his eyes shut and crinkled at the edges as he held the Ruri-chan wand clasped between his hands, and he just kept smiling. Damn, you were faithful to Mammon, but this feeling was different, was so overpowering, so kind and warm-

You smiled back, and slowly reached your hand out to retwine your fingers with his.

“He’s really done a number on me, hasn’t he? Now, come on. I want to show you off already.”

“Show me off?”

“Yes you big goof. You made the entire costume didn’t you? We have to show them who the ultimate fan is.”

**

Around three in the morning, the front door creaked open, sending a crack of light cutting across the apartment, and two figures slinked inside the darkness, their shadows swaying in the light across the floor. One of them guided the other towards the couch, where they collapsed in a heap while the other moved to the kitchen. The door was shut now, bathing them both in darkness, but even if their roles were reversed, they both knew the layout of their home by heart.

Leviathan brought two cups of hot chocolate back to the couch, stopping and glancing over the cups as he regarded you. Curled across the cushions again, your fingers were still holding onto some polaroid print outs you had been developing while waiting for him. Levi set the cups down and then picked one of them from your hand, smiling down at the selfie the two of you had taken before the premiere, blurry as you were running to get in line, but both of you still threw up peace signs, although only your eyes and up were visible in the shot, Levi more in frame as he was running somewhat behind.

He carefully removed the wig, sliding his fingers under the sides by his ears, finding which way the bobby pins were in and pushing the wig down and then up, carefully unclipping the pigtails and setting them aside (they would be a nightmare to untangle but he would worry about that later) before he knelt down in front of you. Your eyes were shut, and your chest rose and fell gently with each breath. He took the other polaroid from your hand and smiled at it before setting them both down on the coffee table. Then, he took your hand in his and whispered.

“Thank you.”

**

The next morning was back to work. And you were kind of regretting going on so late with Levi, as your headache from yesterday was back with an even stronger vengeance. Levi was no doubt accustomed to all these late nights, but you only had the endurance of a college student. The only blessing you had was that since it was the 24th, the Celestial Corporation was on their holiday, which meant you didn’t have to film anything today. Instead, you and Levi were in charge of managing the editing team as you began to work on piecing together the early episodes of the web series.

It should have been a simple day, it should have been easy on your eyes and your pulsing skull. Lowlights in one of the computer labs as you just let the editors do their thing, Asmo taking pity on you and deciding not to bother you while he went back to preparing for his collection. However, Mammon was either as oblivious as his brothers teased him to be or he just did not care, because it was the fifth time in the past hour he had snuck away from his desk to try and-

“Mammon! What are you doing here?” Lucifer had taken to guarding your door, waiting for the second eldest to slink back here.

“L-Luce! Come on, not you too!”

“MC is busy with a very important project for Lord Diavolo, as you should know. And shouldn’t you also be finishing up your end of year reports if you don’t want to ring in the new year locked in the building.”

“Come on, Luce! Please, just hear me out-”

As if sensing your pounding headache, Lucifer stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

**

Mammon and Lucifer must have talked, because towards the end of the day, Lucifer showed up in your doorway looking… fidgety?

“Is something the matter?”

He cleared his throat, and hid his expression behind his hand, “I would like to apologize for Mammon’s behavior earlier today.”

“It’s okay. Did he finish his reports?”

“Ahem. He will, however I have allowed him to leave early today.”

“Oh. That’s a surprise.”

“Yes, well. He will accompany you home. You are dismissed.”

And Lucifer staggered out of the office then. Something was up. He was like a robot. Or maybe the relief of the upcoming holidays had finally kick-started his body into shutdown mode, knowing he could relax for even a day. Just as your door closed, two things happened then. A text on your phone, and the door swinging open again.

“Uh, hey, MC.”

It was Mammon.

“Hi?” You crossed your arms and stood up, leaning against the front desk of the computer lab, “What’s been with you all day?”

“Uh… Nothing. Do you still have a headache?”

Hm. Well, points for noticing that. “It’s mostly gone now. I probably just need some more sleep.”

“Ah. I see. Then… ah, nevermind. You probably want to sleep, you just said so yourself. Come on, let’s go home-”

“Mammon, wait,” you stepped forward and grabbed his arm before he could rush out the door, “You’ve been acting weird all day. You don’t get to blow me off like that. Something is up. Tell me.”

“Argh. I wanted to do it smoother than this.”

“Well, you can’t. So just tell me.”

You let go of him, and he pivoted back to face you. He was standing stiff, arms at his side, and looking down at his feet. He seemed nervous, his mouth fighting itself to settle on an expression.

“It’s just… you know what today is, right?”

“Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, and… do you know what that means?”

“Tomorrow’s Christmas?”

“Yes- but- well- argh!”

“Mammon. Just tell me.”

The man was silent, and you watched color bloom across his face, his skin darkening with warmth as he fought off his embarrassment.

“Well, in this city… they consider Christmas a l-lover’s day, is all… and I was thinking-”

Oh. You weren’t expecting that.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to go out tonight. You’ve been really busy, and then you weren’t feeling well so I was thinking even doing something small together would be fine. But-”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek, shutting him up.

“That’s sweet of you to think of me. Thank you.”

“Uh. You’re welc-”

“But, Asmo texted me. He wants me to stop by tonight.”

Mammon’s face fell.

“Argh! That idiot! It’s bad enough that he has you in his department, now he wants to take all your free time too?”

“Mammon, it’s fine. I’ll just stop by. You can come with me. And besides, does lover’s day only have to be on Christmas Eve? Can’t we do something tomorrow too?”

“But, Lucifer only gave me-”

“It’s fine,” The door opened again, and Lucifer re-entered, “Mammon, just finish your reports when you finish them. I won’t keep you tonight or tomorrow, or on New Year’s for that matter.”

“What? Really?!”

You noticed Lucifer’s posture was different. If he was listening outside the whole time, then he heard you mention Asmo. He had a far off look in his eyes, and he pursed his lips as he mulled over what to say next.

“Do you… not want me to stop by tonight?”

“Wha- no, no. That’s not it. I-” He sighed and covered his face with his hand. Uncharacteristically lax for him, especially while still at the office. Mammon relaxed too, moving closer to his brother with worry on his face, “I apologize. I don’t intend to put you on the spot, but if you are going over there anyway, could I ask you to deliver something to him?”

“Sure? What is it?”

Lucifer reached inside his coat pocket and, with shaking hands you noticed, produced an envelope. A card of sorts.

“A gift. For Christmas. Since I don’t expect him to be home to receive it, and it would be wrong to give him something this personal during work hours.”

“Personal? So it’s not the bonus checks?”

Lucifer frowned at Mammon, “No. And even though I am giving you a pass for the holidays, it is still being discussed whether your performance this year warrants a bonus at all.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll deliver it,” You reached out to take the envelope from his hand, “I’m sure Asmo will be happy.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer had the smallest smile on his face. It was weak, but not marred by his normal serious facade. It was genuine, but it was all he could muster. Even Mammon had gone silent, and seemed to be thinking something over. You turned to him to try and cheer him up.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you too. We’ll just stop by, and I’m sure there will be time for us to do something afterwards. Okay?”

“Okay,” he grumbled, returning to his usual self, “But hurry up. Get your coat, let’s get going already.”

**

The walk to Solomon’s apartment was rather quiet. Mammon didn’t know the way, so he followed you the whole time. The wind was brisk, but it wasn’t enough to buffet you back. Still, you pulled your coat around you tighter, and only smiled when Mammon stopped to wrap his scarf around your neck.

You took the elevator to the familiar apartment. You texted Asmo that you would be up in a minute, and so when you got to the door, you only knocked once before it was pulled open, revealing Solomon’s smiling face.

“MC! Thank you so much for coming!”

“It’s nothing. I feel bad that I didn’t give Asmo enough attention today. I had a headache, so-”

As you stepped through the threshold, you saw Solomon’s eyes drift behind you, noticing Mammon’s presence.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot to mention that Mammon was accompanying me. Is it okay if he comes in?”

“Of course,” Solomon said, smile never faltering. He stepped aside and gestured for you both to step inside, “I’m sure Asmo will be delighted to see one of his brothers.”

“We won’t be long, I promise. What did Asmo want me to come over for anyway?”

“He wanted to give you a gift. We do have some snacks set out though if you want.”

“Are you having a party?”

“Nah, just for us,” Solomon popped a cube of cheese in his mouth, “Although we’ll probably vlog and use it for some content of sorts. Here, sit down. Let me go get Asmo.”

Solomon left the room, leaving you and Mammon on the couch with the charcuterie board. Mammon was still silent, but he was leaning with his arms over the back of the couch, his head rolling as he sized up the place. You searched for the envelope in your bag, finding it just as Asmo’s singsong voice sounded.

“Darling~! Oh thank you for stopping by! I know it’s out of your way, but I simply had to-”

He had run into the room and immediately rushed you in a hug before you could fully stand up. You barely saw his outfit, only a flurry of fabrics of purple and pink and fuzzy textures in your vision before his arms wrapped around you. When he pulled back, you saw his face decorated in makeup, including little stars and glitter over his blush. His golden eyes were accentuated by the shimmering eyeshadow he had on, and you watched those golden eyes go from happiness to confusion when they spotted the person behind you.

Asmo pulled away, his arms falling to his sides as he went silent. Mammon stood up and just stared at his brother, and you felt their gazes boring into you, so you looked to Solomon for support. He was standing back, watching with an unreadable expression. You fumbled with the envelope.

“Oh, sorry. Mammon was walking me home. We won’t stay too long. Why did you want me to come over?’

That seemed to snap him out of it, at least enough to slip his mask on, “Oh, yes! I have a gift for you!” He turned to Solomon and took several shopping bags from his lover’s arm, moving to hand them off to you, “Here!”

You nearly dropped the bags as their string handles slipped into your hands, “You said a gift! This is plural!”

Asmo laughed, “Well I just couldn’t decide! Consider it your new wardrobe for spring! But not for the fashion show. I’ll custom make your outfit for that!”

“Will you have time for that? You really don’t have to-”

“MC.”

Mammon took the bags from you, but he kept his gaze leveled on his brother, “The card.”

“O-oh. That’s right,” You fumbled again with the item in your hands, flipping it over twice before handing it to Asmo, “Uh, this isn’t from me. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to get you a gift, but I’ll make time to hang out with you or buy you something you want in the future or-”

“Honey, you making the show for me was already my gift. Don’t worry about it.”

Asmo turned the envelope over in his hands as well, looking over his name written elegantly in cursive on the front, and the wax seal on the back. He traced his fingers over the indent on the wax, his eyes half lidded as he recognized it.

“This is from Lucifer, isn’t it?”

“Yes. He asked me to deliver it.”

“What, is it my bonus?” He laughed, but it was airy. Fake, “He could’ve just dropped this on my desk. No need to rope you into it-”

Asmo lifted his arm, tilting the envelope carelessly as he held it loosely between his two fingers. He could be throwing it, or motioning to toss it aside in a moment’s notice without even opening it. You didn’t like the look in his eyes, so distant, the way his smile was too wide, his lips twitching to control his expression into one of indifference, of false amusement, of-

“Asmo,” Mammon pushed past you, dropping the bags on the ground, and stepped right in front of his brother. He raised his arm and rested his fist on his brother’s chest, making the other lean back in surprise.

“W-What do you want?”

“Lucifer took the time to write that. Read it. I mean really read it. I don’t know what's inside but-” Mammon looked away, biting his tongue for a moment, “Look, if Lucifer decided to still be a dick then I get it, but I don’t think he wrote another tirade or scolding in there. It might seem like that at first, but you know him- I know him- better than anyone. I know you can read between the lines to figure out what he means, if he decides to still be a pompous bitch about expressing it.”

“What’s this all about?” Asmo rolled his eyes, and Mammon opened his palm against his chest, sinking his fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

“Come home, Asmo. Please.”

Asmo was silent.

“Not just for us. I mean, I want you home. And so does Levi, and Satan, and the twins. It’s not the same without you. We all miss you. But, for yourself too. Staying away, running away, it’s hurting you too, I know it is.”

Asmo pushed Mammon off of him.

“I’m not running away. I came here because I’m done running away-”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“Mammon.” You warned, but he continued.

“No, MC! He needs to hear this! I get the whole ‘not hiding anymore’ thing, Az, I do. But listen, you’re still running. You’re running on fumes and leaving messes in your wake. Getting outsiders caught up in this,” He jerked his head towards you, and you flinched when Asmo’s gaze met yours, melting with realization and hurt, “running everyone ragged because they don’t fully understand. They can’t fully understand! They’ll never fully know what we went through.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? When the people who went through it don’t even want to talk about it with-”

Mammon grabbed the envelope and waved it in front of his face, “This. This is them trying to talk about it. Just like how for you it's making videos and posting on Devilgram. And for me? This is me talking about it. You may not like it, but if you want to talk about this, you’ll have to accept that we all are processing differently, taking steps differently. And we can’t take a step forward together if you keep running on ahead, okay?”

Asmo was silent. Solomon was still in the background, but when Asmo turned to him nervously, looking for reassurance, he was shocked to see the small smile on his lover’s face.

“Not you too-”

“I think it’s worth considering,” Solomon shrugged, “It would be a shame to throw away the letter without giving it a cursory glance, at least.”

Mammon drew Asmo’s attention back to him, handing him back the letter. Then he surged forward, wrapping him in a hug.

You saw Mammon’s arms come up and brush Asmo’s hair, pulling his brother in closer as he mumbled-

“This is a family problem, right? So it's up to the family to solve it, got it?”

Asmo didn’t respond. Mammon pulled away after a second and then turned around, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his arm before moving to grab the bags on the floor.

“Come on, MC. Let’s go.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh, thank you for the gifts, Asmo. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The two of you moved towards the door, tripping over yourselves, when-

“Wait.”

You turned around and watched as Asmo slowly opened the envelope, unfolding the card and tucking the envelope behind it as he began to read it over. It took a minute, and you were terrified of the letters on the page until-

“Solomon. Pack up the charcuterie. Get your coat.”

Mammon gasped next to you, and you saw his eyes glossy and wet as he stared in disbelief at his brother. Asmo didn’t raise his gaze, but he smiled down at the card.

"I can't wait to see the look on their faces."

**

You and Mammon opened the door to the penthouse and called for the others. It took some  shouting, and Mammon running down the hall to bang on all the doors, and a few of them came grumbling, but it was worth it to see their faces when you stepped back to reveal-

Beel was the first to move, tackling Asmodeus before dissolving into blubbering tears. He slammed into his brother with such force that Asmo’s feet slipped off the floor but it was Beel’s strong arms that kept him steady and upright.

You saw Asmo’s face as he slowly reached a hand up and patted the muscular arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, big guy. I won’t do it again.”

Levi dropped his game system on the floor, nearly shattering, but he ignored it and rushed in to join the hug, also crying. Belphegor was next, and he shuffled his feet quickly to meet everyone at the threshold. You wouldn’t have expected tears from him, but he was smiling, and he showed his younger sibling-ness by being equally clingy and tugging on Asmo’s sleeve to get his attention.

Then came Satan, who moved close, but waited for the others to stop swarming Asmo before greeting him. Although he didn’t initiate, Asmo did, and glomped his brother, nearly knocking him backwards.

“Oh how I’ve missed you! Look at you!” He smushed Satan’s cheeks together, pulling at the skin, “Look what finals did to you! My gift to you will be a full spa treatment to get rid of those dark circles!” He then pointed towards you, “That includes you too!”

You moved to welcome Solomon into the room as well, and the brothers were more properly introduced to him. Although they had observed your meetings with him, the formalities were shed and when the man called himself Asmo’s boyfriend, there were hands shaking and claps on the back all around.

That just left…

Lucifer stood at the end of the hall that led to his office and the bedrooms, and had been watching the reunion silently. His arms folded, he did not react when the group turned to him and waited anxiously. You didn’t know what had been in that letter, you did not want to breach their privacy (anymore than you had already done), but since Asmo decided to come home, you had hoped it was something honest. Plus, there was what Mammon had said. So surely…?

Asmo smiled and walked languidly towards the eldest. He folded his arms behind his back, and took long steps that made him bounce cheerfully. It was teasing, exaggerated, but it was calculated. When he got close, there was no hug, no open arms. Asmo merely stopped in front of his brother and craned his head up to look at him.

“I’m back.”

“Welcome home.”

And that was all that was said. But Lucifer then swiftly moved to the kitchen, where he moved to set the table for two more seats.

Well, it was a start. Or so you thought, but Lucifer’s cool behavior did not seem to put a damper on the evening, as the brothers broke out the New Year’s champagne early, and partied and laughed for Asmo’s return. Although you and Mammon did not get to have your date, you sat next to him on the couch and he threw an arm around you as you watched the shenanigans- such as Levi and Asmo battling it out in racing games- and you promised him that you would do something tomorrow.

Eventually, you all passed out. Lucifer had somehow prepared a huge feast for Asmo’s return despite the short notice, and it had knocked all of you out. Mammon and you were lucky to be on a couch when it happened, but when you came to in the middle of the night, you saw the others- Levi, Belphie, and Beel- not so lucky as they were piled on top of each other on the floor. Although maybe they were lucky, since Beel was probably a heater himself, and someone had been kind enough to put blankets on all of you. Satan was taking up an entire couch by himself, as whoever was sharing it with him must have vacated it. You didn’t see any sign of Solomon, and when you sat up and saw the clock on the television display 2:07 AM you figured he must have gone home at some point. But did Asmo-?

You pushed yourself off the cushions, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while you tried to be careful to not jostle Mammon awake. You gained your bearings, trying to figure out what had been to wake you. You didn’t particularly have to go to the bathroom, so what did-

“Thank you.”

You flinched and ducked below the couch, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. The voices were coming from the kitchen area, and you could see a small yellow light breaking up the cool blue of the moonlight from the back door. You slowly peeked over the couch to watch.

Asmodeus laughed behind his hand, and paused making something- a drink, probably not coffee, it was too late (unless it was for Lucifer of course, but that was a bad decision, and you winced as you thought about how that man was probably developing ulcers). Lucifer meanwhile, was undistracted, focused solely on his younger brother.

“I mean it, thank you.”

“You really don’t have to, Luce. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I- I missed you.”

Asmo laughed again, “You don’t have to force yourself. I know what’s going through your head. I always do,” he poked him in between the eyebrows.

“I should have greeted you better when you first came home. I was just… overwhelmed.”

“I know, dummy. I read your letter. Don’t worry. You got through to me.”

Lucifer’s hands moved. He started to lift them, and you saw them shaking. His breath was stuttering too. He seemed nervous, on edge, vulnerable. The light cast shadows across his face that he worked so hard to hide, his own stress and dark circles and guilt eating away at his looks.

“I was… I was so worried. So scared. When you left. And then. When I heard about what happened on set, I-”

“It’s okay, Luce. Like I said. I know what’s going on in your head. You don’t have to voice it. I know it’s especially hard for you. Since I still don’t even know the whole story. But-”

He turned to Lucifer and held out the mug.

“That’s why I did what I did. I was the one to voice it. I was the only one who could. I had to be the one to get the ball rolling.”

Lucifer surged forward and pulled Asmodeus into a hug. It was tighter than the one Beel had wrapped him in earlier. Lucifer was curling around him, protecting him. The shadows wrapped around them like wings, embracing Asmodeus entirely.

“But you shouldn’t have to bear that burden. You shouldn’t have to be the one to do it alone.”

Asmodeus didn’t say anything. You looked away and moved to lay back down next to Mammon. The last thing you heard was:

“Please stay. I can’t bear-”

“Don’t worry. I will. I’m sorry I was gone.”

**

In the morning, you surprised all the sleepyheads and hangover brains with breakfast. Despite the circumstances, Lucifer was still insisting everyone go in since it wasn’t the holiday for the office yet. Your tasks at work today were the reverse of yesterday. Instead of everyone being kind to your migraine, you made rounds to the different departments, making sure all of your housemates were taken care of and surviving. Diavolo seemed sympathetic to the situation, learning of Asmo’s return, and let everyone leave early. You were called to his office to be the messenger to deliver the news.

“By the way, MC,” Diavolo said from behind his desk, “Are you free on the 27th?”

“The 27th? Why?”

“Milord presumed you would have plans tonight, as it is still the lover’s holiday-” you choked on your tea as Barbatos spoke, the knowing gaze of both men making you flushed.

“And I assumed the other brothers would be vying for your attention the day after, so I thought the 27th would be an odd enough date that you might not have any plans yet.”

“I… guess that makes sense,” You were surprised he had put that much thought into it, “I know I’m going to eventually do something with Satan over our winter break, but we haven’t made plans yet. So, I think I’m free on the 27th.”

“Good. Then, would you like to join me for dinner that evening?”

“Huh? Uh, what?”

“Of course, if you find out you do have plans that day, we can easily reschedule.”

'No, it’s not that, just- What do you mean by dinner?’

“What do I mean?” He smiled behind his folded hands, “What do you think I mean?”

“It’s just that… whatever you have planned might be out of my price range-”

“Ah, I should have been more clear. This would be my treat. It would be a thank you for all the work you’ve done these past few months.”

“Of course, the place Milord has picked out is upscale, so maybe you should have Asmodeus help dress you. Just as a fair warning,” Barbatos leaned over the chair you were seated in, his gloved hands close to your shoulder as they pressed down on the back cushion. It was the most casual you had ever seen him act around you, act in front of Diavolo. Still, it wasn’t the first time he had gotten this close to you. Your heart stirred a little as you glanced at his gloved hands, remembering him coming to your rescue that night in the park.

“I would say we are both looking forward to spending time with you!” Diavolo gave a hearty laugh, “I do hope you won’t disappoint us.”

“Wait, Barbatos will be joining us too?”

You turned around to face the butler. He was unphased, “Of course. Unless you would prefer-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” you waved your hands to clear up the misunderstanding, “I just thought I would get to try your cooking again. I thought that was all Diavolo ever ate, it didn’t fully click in my head until now that we would be eating at a restaurant-restaurant.”

“Do you hear that, Barbatos?” Diavolo was laughing even heartier now. Barbatos smiled at you, and gave a small bow.

“I am happy to hear you think that highly of my cooking.”

“I do! It’s five stars!”

“Barbatos is my trusted employee and I would be nothing without him, however, I must do without him at times,” Diavolo sighed dramatically and rested his head on his fist as he watched the two of you, “And to repay him for all his hard work, I do like to treat him as well.”

“It just so happened that we both wanted time to spend with you. We knew you were short on time, and so our interests happened to align,” Barbatos circled around to sit in the chair beside you.

“You will join us, won’t you?”

The two men were practically batting their eyelashes at you, or at least it felt like, with their smarmy smiles and enamored glances. You had no choice but to say yes, and when you finally left them, you sighed in relief.

Barbatos escorted you out of the office, but motioned for you to lean in once you were at the elevators.

“I’m flattered by your words. If you find yourself with more free time, I would welcome the chance to personally spoil you with my cooking.”

It was illegal for your heart to have to put up with this many handsome guys.

The elevator door opened, and you stiffly moved inside, giving Barbatos a cursory wave before he disappeared from view. You tried to calm yourself before you reached the lobby, and when the doors finally opened, your eyes landed on a head of white hair standing near the glass doors as snow fell behind the pane.

Well, they would have to keep trying, because in the end you only had room in your heart for one.

“Yo, MC!” Mammon waved as you approached. You hurried to meet him. Tonight was his night, afterall.

**

You woke up the next morning to knocking on your door. Through bleary eyes, you grabbed your phone to check the time, and saw it was only nine. Who would-

“Coming in now! We’re covering our eyes though so if you’re not dressed you still have five seconds to-”

The exaggerated, teasing tone was reminiscent of Asmo but too nasally and low to be him. You recognized it as Belphie, when he was in a good mood, which was rare. You sat up as the door broke open to reveal Belphie and Beel, and true to their word the two walked in with their hand in front of their faces and looking away, but you were in pajamas, so it was fine. You sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and looked up at them as you rubbed crust out of your eyes.

“It’s fine. I’m dressed. What do you want?”

“Are you doing anything today?” Beelzebub asked. You reached for your phone again.

“Uh, what day is it? Saturday?” You looked at the calendar app, seeing the 26th back at you. Tomorrow was dinner. “Uh, no. I’m free. Why?”

“Come shopping with us.”

“Shopping?” No offense, but last time I did that with you guys, it ended really badly. You remembered Beel’s crying face and Belphie’s scowl. Why did they want to go out with you again? Well, Beel, you understood. But why Belphie-?

“There’s a cool market that pops up before New Year’s. There’s a lot of cool artist shops, and also food trucks,” Belphie pointed at Beel, “I need someone to help me supervise him.”

Ah, so that was it. Well, you could work with that.

You rolled your shoulders and popped your joints, “Okay, just let me get dressed and-”

“Also, I want to thank you for getting Asmo to come back.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Belphie. He had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, put his beanie was helping him hide even more of his face than his hair already did, but you could see the frown fighting to stay on his face along with the flush of embarrassment.

Belphie had acted rather baby-ish when Asmo returned, sticking to his side and clinging to him, which was a side of him you had never really seen before. Around the other brothers, he was obviously the youngest, but he was aloof and sarcastic, and seemed empty and missing entirely if he was not stuck to Beel’s side. But, you knew that he and Beel, being the youngest, had it the roughest.

“You’re welcome,” You said, standing up and deciding to take a risk. You walked forward and wrapped an arm around both of the boys in front of you, figuring that Belphie wouldn’t lash out if you were only hugging him half-way. You felt him stiffen for a moment, but Beel accepted your embrace easily, and soon, Belphie relented and accepted it as well.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Wait outside, okay?”

“We can get breakfast on the way. I have enough money to cover you even if Beel takes out two entire trucks.”

Once the boys were gone, you turned back to the lump hiding under your blankets.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Mhm,” Mammon grumbled in response.

Belphie was not lying about the market. It was a beautiful little place made more beautiful by the glowing, warm lights that hung from post to post, even in the daytime. The snow on the ground made the scene beautiful without being terrible cold, still you and Belphie stuck close to Beelzebub who acted as your personal heater. While a lot of your morning ended up sampling the different food trucks as Beel’s eyes were certainly not bigger than his mouth, you did have time to browse the wares from the small business booths that lined the rest of the bazaar.

What surprised you even more was Belphie caught you eyeing some jewelry at one stall, and pulled out his wallet.

“Do you like that one?”

“Yeah. Look at how the light hits it,” You held up the piece and let it spin, reflecting all the colors bouncing off the snow and the white tents, “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“...Yeah. Excuse me,” he turned to the owner, “We’d like to buy this one please. Here-” He started to fish through the several bills in his wallet.

“Belphie, wait! You don’t have to.”

“I said I would thank you for bringing Asmo home. This is part of it. I didn’t give you anything on Christmas anyway, so consider this a thank you.”

He nudged your hand away when you tried to stop him from pulling out the money. He gave them to the owner and had them box up the gift.

“Besides,” Belphie handed you the box, “Not just for Asmo. For Beel. And everything else since I met you.”

You looked at him strangely, “I hardly think I’ve done anything that-”

“You have.”

He shoved the box into your hands more forcibly, his one eye looking at you with something… strange.

“Now let’s find Beel. If we’re not careful, he’ll destroy another truck,” he sighed. Dramatic, he strolled away, but you were left staring after him for a moment. Your fingers flexed around the small box, remembering the force he shoved it at you with. The force with which he nudged your hand away, that it was almost a slap. The brothers had strength despite their appearances, you had learned that long ago, but something about Belphie’s behavior was still off, still not adding up.

You were certain he was thankful for Asmo being back home. But you couldn’t say you were close with him yet.

**

“Asmo, I need your help,” you approached him once you were back home. He was lounging on the couch, with Levi and Satan sitting on either side. Beel and Belphie, after dropping their shoes off and placing the takeout bags on the kitchen counters, also moved to the couches. Everyone was being pulled to Asmo like a magnet since his return. It had only been two days, and even though they had seen him at work, the relief they all felt was obvious. The fact that Beel was going to him over the food he had just brought home said volumes. You felt bad to take him away, even for a moment.

“Anything for my lovely assistant!”

“Well, I was wondering if you could help me style an outfit before tomorrow night?”

“Oh? I thought you already went out with Mammon~”

“This is-” You felt nervous because of the others’ eyes on you now, “Diavolo and Barbatos invited me to dinner. They said it would be upscale. Barbatos was the one who suggested I talk to you.”

Lucifer had come down the hall coincidentally, and stopped and stared at you.

“Diavolo invited you?” He seemed surprised. No, wary?

“He said it was just to thank me for my work so far. That’s all!” You tried to assuage his concerns.

“Well then, that obviously calls for a stylist’s work!” Asmo clapped his hands together and stood up, “Thank goodness you told me now and not tomorrow morning! Let’s get to work right away.”

Asmo started to march you towards your room. Lucifer stepped in your way.

“Where are they taking you? What time? How long will you be gone-”

“What are you, their dad, Luce?” Levi shouted from the couch. Lucifer’s eye twitched, and he folded his arms.

“They didn’t tell me. I texted them earlier today to confirm, I’m sure they’ll get back to me soon.”

“They?”

“Barbatos is also a guest. Not working.”

“Oh, then we have to dress you up extra special if it’s his day off too!” Asmo pushed you further down the hall. As the door closed, you heard one of the brothers yell-

“Don’t dress them too nice or Mammon will be jealous!”

**

Around six p.m. on the 27th, Barbatos and Diavolo came to the apartment door to escort you. It felt a little silly, like they were coming to ask Lucifer for permission. The man in question was standing behind you in the entranceway, tapping his foot, and looking anxious as Diavolo stepped inside and clapped him on the back, promising to take good care of you.

“It’s just dinner, my good friend! Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn in a few days' time,” he then leaned in and whispered, poorly since you could still hear him, to Lucifer, “This is mainly a treat I arranged for Barbatos’ sake.”

“MC and I do not get many opportunities to talk besides work,” Barbatos smiled at you. He was out of his uniform, but wearing a gray suit with a teal overcoat, “I admit, I am a bit jealous of the seven of you who get so much of their time.”

“As am I,” Diavolo laughed. He was dressed in a black suit with a red vest, and his coat- or was it more of a cape- had fur trimming. You were sure it must be real fur, “Now, come along, MC. As much as I would love to stay and chat with everyone, we do have reservations!”

Lucifer still looked a little off, so before you walked out the door after them, you turned to him and asked outright.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” He immediately said, but at your continued stare, he shut his eyes and sighed, “I just do not want you to exhaust yourself. You’re still recovering from your finals and… other stressors.”

His eyes were nervous, flickering from your face to looking away at some corner of the room. You felt strange. You were flattered that he was worried about you, and it was not the first time he had shown such concern for you, but… so publicly, especially in front of Diavolo? He must be feeling rather relieved and thankful from you returning Asmo home.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” you said, reaching out and patting his arm, which made his eyes shoot back to you. You thought he was going to flinch or pull away, but he resisted and remained still, “But I promise I’ll be okay. I’ve been sleeping, for one. And, if it makes you feel more at ease, I promise I’ll text at least one of you tonight if anything happens. Alright?”

“...Very well.”

“Alright then. I’ll be back later.”

Barbatos and Diavolo stood on either side of the door, framing your path as you stepped over the threshold and out into the hall. Lucifer watched as you made your way into the elevator, and you waved at him as the doors closed. Once downstairs, there was an expensive, black limo waiting for the three of you, and to your surprise, someone else was in the driver’s seat.

“You’re not driving today?” You asked Barbatos.

“It’s my day off, remember?” He said as he opened the door for you.

“If it’s your day off, then you shouldn’t be doing that either,” You moved to take the door from him, and dramatically gestured for him to enter first.

“Apologies, a force of habit,” he laughed.

Diavolo had you climb in next, and although the limo was spacious, you still felt seated “between” them. The car had cushy seats, and some colorful lights that pulsated softly throughout the interior. There was a minifridge, which Diavolo wasted no time opening to pop open a bottle to serve. Everything was already ritzy, and you had not even pulled away from the apartments yet.

“I must say, Asmodeus is truly an expert at his craft,” Barbatos eyed you up and down, and while you felt a little nervous, his gaze, nor Diavolo’s once he turned to look at you as well, was not lecherous at all.

“I must agree. You look wonderful. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you for having me,” you said awkwardly, shrugging before folding your hands and staring out the window. The two men were still smiling at you, but you weren’t quite sure what to say, “So, where are we eating tonight?”

“Oh, you will adore the place,” Diavolo took a sip of his glass and leaned forward, talking excitedly, “My father always took me here as a child. It’s very upscale, but the staff is wonderful and…”

**

“I still feel like an intern doesn’t deserve all this treatment,” you said bashfully as you took a sip of your own glass before setting it back down on the table. You were in a beautiful room of marble and Greek columns, with a dome in the ceiling decorated with a piece meant to rival the famous frescos. The wait staff did everything here, pulled the chairs out and folded and unfolded your napkins, and remained on standby for the moment your glass got a drop less full to refill it. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, but the smiles and reassurances of your companions helped you relax.

“But you’re not just an intern,” Diavolo smiled at you from across the table again, “You’ve already gone above and beyond my expectations, MC.”

“Indeed.”

“It was the right choice to hire you.”

“Well, I guess it was just luck.”

“Luck?”

“That I got scouted. I would never have known about the internship otherwise. You knew that I was really clueless about the D.C. and C.C. when I applied, right?”

Diavolo and Barbatos glanced at each other, but Diavolo smiled and spoke first.

“Yes, but I believe I told you that made you an asset, didn’t it? You didn’t know of our status or fame, and so you were able to approach everything with a fresh perspective. I suppose I should find out who scouted you and give them my highest praise.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck, per se,” Barbatos added, “I believe it was more fate.”

“Fate?”

“Yes. Especially the way you’ve wormed your way into the brothers’ hearts, that is not the work of mere luck.”

“I agree. It would be luck if you were only someone skilled. But you are also kind, compassionate, and inquisitive. You go above and beyond what is expected of you. That is why it must be fate that you came to work for us.”

You smiled, but there was something in his statement that negged you. You had been riding on the high of Asmo polishing you up, the fancy treatment, the compliments, so it did not sink in before, but that word- inquisitive- it pierced something, cracking the mask of the scene- of their smiles. And then it made you think of Barbatos' line. Wormed your way into the brothers’ hearts…

“...And that is why tonight is a celebration of you,” Diavolo continued, from some statement you didn’t quite fully hear, “and of course, Barbatos,” Diavolo laughed behind his glass, a little drunk, “I do my best to take care of my own.”

“We must do what we can to take care of our own.”

You stood up suddenly, knees banging into the underneath of the table and sending your glass nearly knocking over. Diavolo looked at you curiously, but Barbatos was more perceptive, less under the cloud of alcohol. He noticed the allure of the night had shattered, he probably saw you shaking, your eyes burning with rage.

“MC?” Diavolo asked, “Is something the matter?”

You had forgotten. You had been so overwhelmed with Asmo, the project, the production, that you had forgotten weeks ago. Forgot what had happened when you were just entering Beel’s department. Forgot all the frustration you felt from the cold gazes, the smug, secretive smirks the two shared when you were in their office months ago, demanding what was going on with your phone, your laptop, the whole city with information just missing.

Wormed your way into the brothers’ hearts? You wanted to laugh. These two manipulative- They hid information, yet dangled pieces in front of you to keep you just interested enough. Just enough to get you to work in a roundabout way. How could you forget?

Even this whole conversation. Luck? Fate? You bet there was more to the conversation here tonight too. Was this whole invite just another set up? Another way for them to-

“MC,” Barbatos tried again, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving.”

“MC!”

You turned and started to storm out the way you had entered, but Barbatos moved quickly and caught your arm. You moved to shrug him off, but his grip was strong too. That’s right. Everyone is a fucking bodyguard around here. You glared at the waiters. Probably these guys too.

“MC, please, whatever is wrong- sit. Let us discuss it,” Barbatos said. You really wanted to shrug him off, but you knew it as fruitless, so you let him guide you back towards the table. You huffed, but refused to sit back down. Diavolo appeared to have sobered up a bit, because he was looking at you with concern. Was that also a farce too?

“I remembered something.”

“Something you had to do?” Diavolo cocked his head.

“No. Something you both did. Something I forgot because I’ve been so busy and exhausted lately. ‘Worming my way into the brothers’ hearts’ as you so put it.”

You crossed your arms, and suddenly you felt overwhelmed. They were both just looking up at you, innocently, and even though you knew they were anything but innocent, you felt stupid, and anxious, doing this in the middle of such a fancy place. For not just shutting up and enjoying the night. But how could you enjoy it if it was just another tactical move?

You rubbed the back of your hand across your eyes to brush away the tears you felt. Words from weeks ago were coming back to you, feelings you had fought with Asmo, Beel, Belphie, Levi, and Mammon. We take care of our own. At the time those words had meant to keep you out, keep you separate. Ostracize you from the brothers. But then Asmo had confided in you. Mammon had reassured you. You weren’t an outsider. You did belong. At least in the brothers’ lives.

You sniffled again, and looked up, trying to not let your tears ruin the makeup Asmo had done, but you had already wiped your face, so it was probably smudged anyway. You saw something black on the back of your hand, so that was that, and you felt the tears come faster with frustration at how stupid you were.

“MC, please, sit down-”

“You know,” you said, voice shaky and resigned, “I really wanted to enjoy tonight. But I don't know what the two of you want from me. What you are planning. What you want me to do. You obviously know everything I’ve been up to, so stop playing dumb. Stop acting like-”

“I also wanted to enjoy tonight,” Barbatos cut you off, his expression tense but… nervous? His lips pursed like they didn’t know what face to make, and his eyes looked to the ground before he gained enough confidence to look you directly in the eye.

Diavolo spoke to the servants, “Leave us for a moment.”

They left the room quickly. Barbatos continued.

“You are right. I do know what you’ve been up to. I work the security cameras. I keep tabs on all the employees. I’ve been watching Asmodeus very closely. I know about what he told you, and I know what the others have told you too. I also know how all of this- the brothers, Milord and I- have drained you.”

He grabbed you again, this time, your hand, but this time gently. He took the handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the smudge, but when he was done he didn’t let go. He massaged your fingers as he spoke, almost like a nervous fidget, and it was then you realized Barbatos wasn’t wearing any gloves.

“I meant what I said about being jealous of the brothers, who get so much time to grow close to you. To fight and then learn to forgive and you learn to do the same with them. The last two times we spoke, I felt our relationship was tarnished. I wanted to fix it. To move forward.”

Barbatos continued to knead your hand, almost like he was pleading with you to forgive him. He looked so different, so vulnerable, compared to the version in your memory that had lied and played ignorant with a smile on his lips. You turned your angry gaze to Diavolo, who had been silent during this confession.

“And you?”

“I instructed Barbatos to act to keep the brothers’ history a secret from you, because that is all they have ever desired since that day. They’ve lived in fear, MC. I had to act to protect them. At the time, you were still an outsider in that regard to most of them. So, if we had to play the villains, then so be it.”

“But censoring information like that-”

“You have heard much of the story already, MC,” Diavolo sighed, “Your emotions right now are making you forget. Stop and think for a moment. It is not just me who would stand to gain from protecting that information.”

Barbatos let go of your hand. You took a breath, and did as he said. The C.C. was the one who faked their deaths, so it did make more sense for them to do that over Diavolo. And if both companies were working together because of some deal made then, all the more control they would.

“I’m sorry. You were right. I had forgotten about that,” You took a breath again, “Truthfully, it’s not the censorship I’m really mad about now. That’s just… one part of it. I don’t know who you both are. What you want from me. If this dinner is supposed to accomplish anything.”

“All we want- is to let you know the real us,” Diavolo and Barbatos looked at each other again, “It was my orders that made Barbatos the villain in your eyes, and this, is my apology. To both of you. I understand that before that incident, you two were on the path to becoming good friends. Or, at least, friendly co-workers.”

“Is that truly all this is?”

You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe it so bad.

“Yes,” Diavolo said, “I still won’t give you information if you come to me for it. I’ve put it in the hands of the brothers now, and if the rest of them choose to tell you, then so be it. My job has always been to protect them, regardless of what they choose to do.”

“MC, please,” Barbatos was pleading. It was wrong. Your stomach twisted itself up in guilt. You sighed.

You finally sat back down.

“I… am sorry for ruining dinner.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. This is what tonight is for.”

“No, I ruined it. It’s okay. I’m sure there… was a million more mature ways for me to go about that without acting like that. I really don’t belong in a fancy place like this.”

“Then we’ll take you to a million more places like this until you feel comfortable,” Diavolo smiled, and signaled for the waiters to come back into the room, “Now, are we ready for dessert?”

You stared down at your lap and tried to steel yourself. Barbatos, still holding your hand, gave you a reassuring squeeze to draw your eyes up to him. He was smiling softly, and it made you feel a little bit better, like the night wasn’t completely ruined after all, but your eyes still stung.

**

After dinner, Diavolo had the driver drop you off a little ways away from the apartment so that you could walk off any of the mixed feelings still lingering. Barbatos was the only one who kept pace with you. Diavolo remained a few steps ahead each time.

“I hope you understand that… I was only doing my job at the time. I must act in accordance to what-”

“It’s fine, Barbatos. Really. Let’s just drop it. I’ve forgiven you already.”

“But you still are hostile to me.”

“It’s going to take some time, okay?”

“I apologize.”

Silence. Except for your footsteps. The silence was weird. Not off putting, but… familiar? The last time you had been with Barbatos like this was that night he had rescued you after you nearly froze to death from a dissociative episode.

You stopped walking.

“Thank you for rescuing me that one time… When I was in a bad mental state. I mean, I guess you probably knew what that was about too!” You laughed airly, and Barbatos frowned at your ill attempt at a joke, “But… Thank you. I probably would have frozen out there if it wasn’t for you.”

“The thanks should go to Lord Diavolo, for sending me. Or for the brothers, for alerting him to your abse-”

“But it was you who found me.”

Barbatos stopped walking and turned to face you.

“It was you who came to get me. Who knew what to say to get me to move again. So, the thanks goes to you.”

And with that, you took a step forward. A small one, but it was one that Barbatos followed after nonetheless.

**

The two men returned you to the apartment around nine. And although you did end up enjoying the meal, you were thankful when goodbyes were had. You closed the door and ran through the entryway to the living room where everyone still was, and practically threw yourself onto the couch on top of Asmo.

“Welcome back- oh Darling you look a mess! What happened?”

“I’m fine. Just tired, is all,” you said, burying your face in a pillow. You were thankful none of the men decided to push it, and were grounded by them all of them brushing a hand over your back or smoothing over your hair as they resumed whatever show they were watching or game they were playing. You even felt Lucifer’s hand, he was the one who chose to comb through your hair gently, and you could tell by his sigh that he was relieved you were home too.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello 👋🏼 giving my recent Cult of the Lamb brainrot. Could you write for Narinder/ The one who waits meating a young child reader whom forms part of the cult comforting him and helping him adjust to his new life in the cult.

Note: This takes place after the Lamb defeat Narinder, maybe one or two days after he joined the cult.

Aw yay!! First Cult of the Lamb request!

..........

'Never have I felt so humiliated by that damned lamb..making me toil in the hot sun. Ordering me around like a-'

"You know our gracious leader can read minds. I wouldn't make such a grumpy face around them."

Narinder's ears perked at the new voice. This one sounded much younger than the majority of the cult members. Sure, some of them had higher-pitched voices. But this was a child’s for sure.

And he was right when he looked down and saw you, the youngest in the cult, dressed in similar red robes.

Your bravery in speaking to him--let alone approaching him--was a surprise considering his reputation. He was the bishop of death, the very figure that the Lamb made their acolytes worship..now reduced to a humble servant. 

This life was still very new for him, as he lived here for only a single day thus far. And he was surprised at how welcoming the cult was. Of course, not many dared to question their leader’s choice to spare him...but it didn’t stop others from dissenting and spreading rumors, or just simply being terrified of him.

Amazingly, you weren’t among those people. You were gazing up at him. No fear in your eyes whatsoever.

But your remark didn’t stop him from scoffing loudly, feeling utterly insulted by the reminder. 

Had that damned lamb sent you here to taunt him? 

Did they expect he’ll let you get away with it just because you were a child? 

Was this a test?

“Of course I know that, little morsel.” He huffed. “I’m the one who gave them that power. How I wish to rip that crown off their head and reclaim what was once mine..”

You tilted your head, pouting slightly. “I wouldn’t say that out loud, The One Who Waits-”

“I don’t care what they think!!” His teeth became bared, eyes glowing red, though he did calm down shortly after as he sighed and stared at you. You barely even flinched. “..does it not bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“That you’re not even safe inside your own head? That your precious “leader” can see into your mind at any time? Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Not really.” You shrugged. “When I first joined, they found out I was hungry before I said anything.”

"Wait? You weren’t..born here?” Narinder muttered with a raised eyebrow, now curious about your past. “Since when did the Lamb decide to indoctrinate children?”

"Oh! Well um..I’m the first and only kid for now.”

“And..how did they fully persuade you?”

“In my old cult, we had to go out into the Lands to find our food. I prayed for a safe trip and good meals, but...those prayers only got me seeds and grassy gruel for dinner.”

“Even children had to fend for themselves?” He blinked. For a moment he almost pitied you. The Lands of the Old Faith were very harsh--even adults struggled to scavenge and return home safely.

“Yep. I had bad luck. I was so hungry all the time, I felt like Heket placed a curse on me..even after she was gone.” You sighed, before perking up with a smile. “So I left and met the Lamb. They looked at me for only a moment and took me to their temple. I was too scared to say anything, but..next thing I knew..bam! There was a huge feast!”

“Ah, yes..we do have plenty of those here.”

“I got to eat actual food!” The memories made you beam with pride and renewed faith in your leader. “Nobody knew my name at the time, and yet they treated me like family. When I asked the Lamb how they knew, they just said they could read minds and saw my suffering."

“And so you agreed to join this cult for the rest of your days?”

“Yep! It truly is the best cult.”

“Huh, well...food is such a simple temptation.” Narinder remarked, grimacing at the rumbling of his stomach. “And I hate how even I have fallen for it..how I hunger in this pathetic mortal shell.” Placing a paw over it, he looked away from you in shame. “To require sustenance, sleep, and..the outhouses every single day?? It almost feels cruel that they’ve subjected me to such a life..”

He couldn’t believe he was venting to, of all people, a kid about this. He was once the kind of beast whom children your age would have nightmares of.

But instead of feeling fear, you expressed interest in making conversation with him. Even being comfortable enough to share your backstory.

“I don’t think it’s cruel. It’s just...new to you since you were uh..chained-up for so long. But you’ll get used to it. I promise it’s not that bad.” You did your best to comfort him. “Our leader wants all of us to have a good life here. Even you and the Witnesses.”

He was silent for a few long moments as he gazed back at you. His face was stoic, yet he was awestruck by the wisdom you offered for your age. You had the tale and confidence in being a preacher some day..he could certainly envision that.

But he didn’t wish to burden you with his gripes any further..now that he realized you approached him on your own with good intent. 

So he sighed, offering you the faintest of smiles. “Hmph, well I shall see how “good” life is here among you mortals.” 

And that was all he said before going back to his work.

You were satisfied with the chat and hummed a small tune as you left him alone, happy that you’ve turned his attitude around a little bit.

He may not admit it for a long while, but you had a feeling he’ll love it here and see that the Lamb made the right choice.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Mighty Nein Reunited, Part 2

Gather ye wizards while ye may, though with the return to Campaign 3, we are finally headed to Yios, where there are wizards, once we finish with the Gloomed Jungles, where there are were-creatures, which are also very cool. The hierarchy is, as always: paladins; wizards; were-creatures; literally everyone else; dhampyrs, kalashtar, changelings, and "hey DM, can I play a tiefling bard with intelligence 7". But I digress.

Ludinus Da'leth: So at this point (ie, shortly post-this episode), Caleb, known bridge between the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul, has taken a job at the Soltryce Academy, which means any efforts to make a new, slightly more palatable volstrucker program and quietly keep it from Archmage Becke are going to go straight out the window. The walls are closing in, and he doesn't even know that Jester can go to the Feywild. 7/10.

Astrid Becke: Caleb listened and took the job! That's one success in what's got to be a thankless new position in many ways. Also I still really want to know who the hell has become Archmage of Antiquity, or if the Assembly just writes that one off as "make a deal to bring back a powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood once, shame on you; make a deal to bring back an powerful Age of Arcanum entity and raise it to godhood twice, shame on us and also what the fuck are we going to do with two nickels in a society that uses gold, silver, and copper currency." 3/10; Astrid's doing better than she ever has in this tracker, and good for her.

Eadwulf Grieve: Caleb is still keeping him in mind, which is good, because he really is like...look, he's a wizard, so he's not dumb muscle, but compared to his two former lovers he's very clearly the 'And Peggy' of the bunch. On the other hand this means he's probably just organizing the Temple of the Raven Queen Yulisen Night Potlucks and inventing the Exandrian equivalent of Minnesota Hot Dish or something. 0/10.

Yussa Errenis: Is aware of the storm on the horizon. Is chilling in his tower. Is largely unbothered. Other people pointed out that while he has developed a reputation for fucking around and finding out, he has also technically never physically left his tower to do so, which is honestly impressive, but does explain why Beau did not have to bamf out a partially dissolved old wizard when she ended up in Uk'otoa's gullet. Anyway, glad he's keeping up with Caleb and making potions. 3/10, for being aware of the storm.

Allura Vysoren, whose name I keep misspelling: Yasha did give Kima back the sword, and Caleb doesn't seem to have her staff, and she helped make a new, cooler sword! 2/10 for League of Miracles reasons only.

Essek Thelyss: Still under a lot of political pressure, regardless of where he is...but he's also getting, as Figueroth Faeth would say, his kisses in, so better than I expected! 5/10.

Caleb Widogast: So here's the thing. It is, as the other post said, about the green beans. And it is, as my last iteration of this said, not time for deep Caleb meta in here. But I do have a lot of thoughts about the similarities between Caleb and Fjord, as I always do, and about how neither of them really had much of an understand of what happens in their life past That One Big Thing They Need To Do, having already woken up at some point and been like *Mitski voice* I used to think I'd be done by 20. I do feel that the Caleb Widogast of part 1 of this two-shot was truly a Caleb Widogast who could go either way re: the T-Dock usage, and the Caleb Widogast of part 2 of this two-shot is not; the event has not (in my understanding, at least) occurred but the decision has unconsciously been made. Also he's dating Essek and he gets to have Dragon Time, which sounds like Floor Time but better. He does get a 4/10 though, because he takes it upon himself to become the Mighty Nein's Social Event Coordinator. As someone who just had to cancel a carefully scheduled D&D session for tonight because I am sick but also the DM and if I have to talk for 2 hours while simultaneously using my brain I will cry, this is very stressful.

Veth Brenatto: Camp's going great! Only one kid died, and not permanently! 1/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Oh so the demigod leviathan CALAMITY SNAKE gets released from its prison beneath the sea, three seals in three temples broken in under 18 months, and yet, I, Halas Lutagran,

Bonus!

Warlock Breakdown Tracker

Fjord: For real? Who knows. I personally imagine that it does, as they say, briefly go to 11, because though Uk'otoa is dealt with and Zehir seems to have understandably gone "you are way too interested in love and the ocean for me to give a shit, I'm going back to bed", Fjord (not unlike Caleb) has to sit with the fact that he's done with that and he's happy OH GOD HE'S HAPPY WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE DO WITH THIS. Also he has to deal with the orphanage, which is going to be traumatic and unpleasant for sure, plus you know someone named "Grankton" is going to be holding a massive grudge against the world at large. But with time, it settles back down somewhere more reasonable, only to briefly spike and resolve again during Kingsley's little maneuver. So you know. Some numbers, probably.

[tomatopers]

...dottozhu...

It's around 3am, Baizhu has come to the pharmacy side of his building to investigate a sound. Summary: Baizhu finds his old Akademiya sweetheart

"Zandik? Is that... you?"

"They call me Il Dottore these days."

"But you are still Zandik, no?"

"...I don't know anymore."

"I see. Well, come over here then. I don't bite."

Baizhu reached for Dottore's mask, only to stop when the harbinger recoiled.

"I've seen what's underneath already, you know this."

"I feel... better, with it on."

"Ah, let's leave it on then. It's perfectly okay. What brings you here?"

"I was in the area, thought I should drop by and see if you've dropped dead by now." (Lie. He was all the way in Sumeru but had a sudden urge to visit the first [and only] person who ever loved him) "I'm looking forward to studying the effects of that contract you made once you've kicked the bucket."

"You don't mean that. If I had to guess, I'd be so bold as to say you missed me."

"Know your place."

"Oh, I assure you, I do."

Baizhu smiled, and it felt like the Akademiya all over again for Dottore. His smile hadn't changed, even after all these years, though... he looked tired.

"Have you found immortality yet"

"I'm afraid not. I haven't given up, though. You know me."

"Knew. I knew you."

"Oh please, you think I wouldn't notice your efforts to keep tabs on me? I haven't gotten rusty just yet, my dear."

The affectionate name sent shivers down Dottore's spine. Why hadn't he kidnapped Baizhu again? It would be so easy to lock him away in Snezhnaya, to covet him like a treasure. The pharmacist was too cunning, though; He'd find a way to escape or die trying. Dottore pointedly ignored the idea that he himself may still have a touch of empathy in him.

"I've been caught, how disappointing. Have you noticed-"

"The 'anonymous' donations? The unlabeled gifts left at my door? The Fatui guards whose patrols seem to often pass the courtyard below? Or perhaps the few times you've visited yet not entered?"

Dottore couldn't stifle a laugh, though it was surprisingly genuine.

"You truly haven't lost your touch. Have you considered my offer, then?"

"You already know the answer. My calling is here, Liyue is my home."

"You could find a new home"

"Zandik, it's getting late. I, of all people, need my rest."

Dottore slowly nodded, turning to leave. Baizhu watched him trail towards the exit, before making a rather impulsive decision and calling out to him.

"I wouldn't... be adverse, to you visiting at a normal hour."

"Hmm..." Dottore pretended to consider it, though he was fully taken with at the idea immediately. "If I have time, I may."

They both knew he would. After all, neither of them had found a better companion than each other.

I like the idea here that there is something similar to lingering feelings, but in the way they never found someone better fit to be a partner, intellectually, than the other. To match with someone as well as they did at the Akademiya was rare in itself, and perhaps they never fully let go of that. Also, as I tried to emulate, even in conversation Baizhu is able to keep up with Dottore, to surpass him even. While it is a little ooc for Dottore to be this civil with a desire, I like to make this capability of Baizhu's one of the things that Dottore most likes about him. The reason Dottore leaves Baizhu in Sumeru is because he can relate to the drive to pursue knowledge (ooc, but referencing the denial of having a little empathy left). While it would be more convenient to lock Baizhu away in Snezhnaya, the pharmacist being free prolongs the memory of how he was in the Akademiya, and allows Dottore to perpetuate the idea that Baizhu has not drastically changed.

[kenjiyabuki]

stuff that made me go 👀 from ep1

Well, gore-y horror from between 70s-90s w queer subtext is one of my most favorite genres ever, so obviously this show is right up my alley. Just the idea of Thai folk horror and 90s slasher fusion w a bunch of tense gay situationships sprinkled on top sounds like a dream to me <3

so OFC I enjoyed the first episode, the gore, haunting past, creepy mask and dick biting and all & now i'm ready to theorize

here are some little details that got my attention and some thoughts that were thunk by me:::::

After Por's (Us) classic setting-the-up-story horror tale gets called out as teasing from White (Fuaiz), Por and Top (Jet) turn the accusation back to his boyfriend Tee (JJay), calling him the best at tricking the younger ones/newcomers to the group.

Based on the trailers, it's safe to assume that in the past, it was Non (Barcode) who was the gullible young one and he was bullied (among other things that will happen to him) even after group decided to utilize him for the short film. Compared to loudmouths Por and Top, Tee seems more on the quiet and stoic side (albeit w anger issues) so this is definitely a clue. Trailers made me think Por was the main terrorizer of Non but maybe Tee played a bigger role.

If Non is the whatever the hell that is dwelling the forest, then why did he cop a feel from Tee while him and White were busy being the couple who chooses the worst time and place to get nasty in a horror? Is it a payback for the tricking the young ones Tee was so good at?

If this isn't a translation mistake, Jin (Copper) calls the movie "his" even though the credits says otherwise.

Firstly, I want to thank my trusty Yandex Image Translator for making this revelation possible:

While Jin says that he made the film for a contest he was in, it's Por who is credited as the Writer/Director/DoP. In fact, Jin's name is only under the cast list, along w Tee, Top and Fluke (Bump).

And maybe even MORE IMPORTANTLY, although we clearly saw him in the movie, taking off the mask just before Por shuts of the laptop & later Top admits he wrote the story, Non's name is nowhere to be seen in the credits. Not only he "disappeared", they also made it seem like he wasn't there in the first place. Uhmm, that's a cunty move to do to an old "friend"...

That really suspicious and ambiguous conversation between Tee and Por.

They might be talking about Non BUT Tee specifically says he doesn't want HIM, which i'm assuming to be White, to get involved and find out more. Por's face drops at first but then he brushes it off w saying it wouldn't matter even if he did because its not relevant anymore.

There are also other new guys who are oblivious to their past but it's White who is worrying Tee. Along w Por's reaction and him constantly teasing their relationship, I think this might be a sign that Tee and Por might have some kind of history??? I am hoping that as messy gay entangled relationships on top of the supernatural horrors would be even more fun!!!!!!!!!

Phi and White's lil sexual tension moment.

Here's the thing: this wasn't even a set up for Jin or Tee to get jealous or anyone to get thoughts because they weren't there to see it. It just happened so quickly and then Phi turned back his attention to Jin to get scolded (as he should) BUT i was stuck on it because what was the reason????????????? Why did White seemed lost in thought over it?

Jin might be jealous of Tan (Mio) for some fucking reason?

Jin gives Phi half a blowjob, BITES HIS DICK (best moment of the ep), chews him out (verbally) and then suggests Tan in his place. Well, Tan and Phi do seem close and Tan knows about their failed FWB. Still, it's interesting that Jin singled out Tan and thinks they had a similar thing, even though Phi assures him that isn't the case.

Honestly, the possibility of tangled relationships is getting to me AHHHH I didnt get that vibe from the trailer at all but I will be glad to see it. Insert the *I'm excited because I love mess* gif I cant be bothered to search rn.

Top being the token salacious fool archetype of this slasher.

Following up on the theme of horror gays being in entangled situationships: A high Top making passes at his friends might not lead anywhere as it just might be him fulfilling his role as the facetious, big mouth guy. But i will just put it aside just in case..... 👀👀

Bonus strays thoughts::

According to character profiles, all the boys are the same age, except Tan and White who are 2 years younger

Por says to Tan "you two got in [their friend group] in 12th grade". I am assuming other person is Phi as White got into the group as the boyfriend. I want to see how they got to be friends tho.

Smoker Tan has asthma and he needs an inhaler which definitely won't be a big problem in the future, right?

It's interesting how Phi wants to be a director and we fittingly saw him being a leader, being levelheaded and "directing" the critical situations, assigning roles to the group etc

Top claims Non is haunting them because they completed his film without him. Babygirl, I dont know if intellectual property theft is enough to turn into an evil ghost, I know you guys did more than that.

Random but I kinda want Fluke to be the Final Girl, surviving until the end w just a puke bag and 2 years of medicine knowledge.......

[atopvisenyashill]

was thinking about how jacaerys would handle naming his kids. they have it spelled out that jacaerys will take the name targaryen once rhaenyra is queen and jacaerys takes up his seat as crown prince of dragonstone, which makes me think he'd go for a targaryen name. that + the general issues surrounding his identity, and baela being a born targaryen, also make me feel he'd lean towards a targaryen name. even in the scenario where he somehow wins the dance with his mother and is married to sara snow (i cannot even begin to explain why that would never happen though), i think sara herself would likely push for as targaryen a name as they can think of, again to drive home the point that their children are Rhaenyra's heirs. i was thinking

for girls:

rhaenys -> it's a way to honor his velaryon heritage, pick a targaryen name, and also drive home the point that jacaerys himself is a true targaryen; he has the name, he has the seat, he has a dragon, he has a dragon riding wife, and now he has a daughter named for a conqueror.

rhae -> simple, sweet, very targaryen, and he can say he's named her for like half the women in his house - rhaena the black bride, his cousin rhaena, rhaenys the conqueror, rhaenys velaryon, and even his own mother.

jaenara/jaenerys -> this is a name of an old dragonrider from house belaerys (went extint during the doom). i'm kinda fuzzy on whether the dragon riders all share names or if they're family specfiic (like the way a lot of areas have Region Specific Names but also Family Specific Names - think like Joffrey vs Boremund) so if it is region specific (as in dragon riders shared names but non dragon riding valyrians had their own) I think it would appeal; kinda similar to jacaerys and jaehaerys, very targaryen-ish. if it's not dragon rider esque and house specific, i'm assuming jaenerys is the Targaryen form of it, and I just think Jacaerys would want to name his daughters - his daughters esp given the succession issues they just dealt with - dragon rider names.

shaena/shaera -> not only is it a very neutral name - no one else so far has had it or anything like it, man or woman - but it's a bit similar to 'sara' and i thought jacaerys might like the idea of his daughter having a targaryen-ified version of his wife's name.

valaena -> it's a velaryon name so while i don't think he would give it to his first born daughter, if he had a few daughters, i think he might want a velaryon name as a way of honoring his father's house, and his grandsire corlys. i also think baela would love the idea of having a daughter with a velaryon name, and valaena being the mother of the conquerors makes it a good choice.

for boys

baelor -> ngl if i was jacaerys, baela, or sara, i would simply refuse to name my kid baelon as i'd feel the name was cursed lmao. we have baelon the brave who dies before he can take up the crown which causes a massive rift in the family, and then aemma dying for a son named baelon only for that baelon to die immediately anyways. baelor is a nice way to honor viserys, rhaenyra, and baelon the brave without sticking the kid with a cursed ass name. although baelor is very close to baela, so if he did marry sara snow and make her queen, he's not choosing this one, i think he would (rightly) worry it would be seen as a sleight towards baela and the velaryons.

aerys -> it's not a name that's been used by the targaryen kings at that point and i think the newness of it would really appeal; like a fresh start for the dynasty almost, the way daeron & myriah play it by using incredibly valyrian, but all new names for their brood.

valerion -> jae & aly used this for one of their babies that died in the cradle, but i think it’s a very distinguished name, and sounds like it could be a velaryon or targaryen name, which i think would appeal to jacaerys - and sara as well, actually, i think a bastard girl would understand the tightrope they’re walking here, & would want jacaerys to acknowledge his velaryon side for appearances sake at least.

maelys/maekar -> he can’t use maelor because aegon 2 & helaena used that one (and regardless of what happens to get jacaerys the throne, i can’t see him purposefully attempting to call to mind the targtowers). i have no reason for this one besides i just really like these names lmao. they’re very targaryen, very strong names, and i just think they sound cool!!!!!

daemion -> i think baela would love to name one of her sons after her father, and i can see jacaerys being talked into it (not for a first born though) despite the issues between jace & daemon.