#they are trying to rectify the situation on their end
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Hey guys
There's a post going around about something called the "Invertebrate Studies Institute" needing help. A few comments made on the post made me curious, so I checked it out and it seems sketchy to me. (ETA: the post's OP is now aware of the situation and is trying to rectify things on their end, and are ok with my post getting more exposure. Read the notes for more info too!)
The institute is a startup and the owner has displayed misogynistic behavior. He made a company and received "$1.3 million in research grants from the USDA and Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation" in 2011, but there aren't any research papers listed on the ISI website more recent than 2012 (sources: ISI website, People Behind the Science podcast transcript, All Things Bugs LLC webpage). It's possible his research is still a work in progress, but I would expect to see some genome sequencing work at the least since that seems to be a major focus.
Also, it's possible to ship frozen specimens in dry ice and have them be fine. Even stuff for molecular work and genome sequencing. So the inability to get help from other research groups, to where they're asking for a local freezer plug-in, is a bit weird to me.
Some screenshots below the cut, didn't screenshot everything since it's mostly just text, but I did cite the sources if you wanna read them yourself.
Not sure what the overall point is of this post is besides "seems sketch to me" but I saw a lot of people worrying on the initial post so I wanted to at least mention this stuff.
Comments from the tumblr post which sparked my initial concerns.
Screenshots from the LinkedIn link, with the initial contact and follow-up legal threat.
Screenshot from the ISI website talking about their facility and "initiative" (I noticed a lot of the wording on the website sounded like they hadn't done significant research, which also gave me pause).
And, for fun, the CDC guide on shipping frozen specimens.
#not photos#invertebrate studies institute#making my own post cause I don't want to signal boost the misogynist startup sorry#FYI OG post's OP is now aware of all this and does not support the scientist in being a shitbag or anything like that#they are trying to rectify the situation on their end#they just wanted to save the frozen science bugs
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reading the end of hiagb made me realize that when following along live i'd read a lot more of it than i thought and it's fun that it's overarchingly how a nut and a bug launched into space b/c of being sick of the world & into a temple at the edge of time & not-actually-infinite versions of themselves re: every [alternate timeline based on different choices/possibilities] can coexist in the same world with every bug tasked w/launching every nut back to the temple for reasons re: maintaining things and all the looping is disrupted by one bug who dated their nut and another bug whose quantum leap error was rectified by being teleported into another nut. the One System Error in an iterative process, one organic Idk Things Just Went Differently This Time As They Always Could've But Maybe Otherwise Virtually Never Did And That's Enough "that's / [one is] all it takes" vs "it's all the same / what's the diff" loops. no rules
#i think the especial endzone / finale aligned w/my being offline for like 5 mo's....#as well as how reading along had made it like ''ok it's been Years so i don't remember all the stuff from having not reread it'' lol#also the bug whose quantum leap error was rectified by their living in another nut's head trying to run interference to keep both alive....#and in the middle a lot of small Episodes. i felt like i got the ending here better than i did re: back lol#it also reminds me that [idk there could be a lot of Layers of larger/smaller worlds within worlds again]#And [weird really specific ass off the shits situations could be literal] as they were here. scratching my head abt the links b/w abigails#slightly scratching my head abt events here too but that's fine. like oh no there could be details better strung together than w/e i manage#my Win while coughing up blood trying to spontaneously speak to kc green was to announce i read ''hiagb'' phonetically. heeyaghbuh.#i mean it was overall fine i'm sure lmao sweating one's like [oh jeez. couldn't play it cool & ''winningest off the cuff exchange w/a rando#that anyone could ever have'' achievement] like ah it's whatevs. awkward being on either side lol we do what we can#i also never decided whether to think of ''crange'' as like hypothetical carefully pronounced ''orange'' or like ''strange''#end up reading it as the latter. never ended up thinking of emerson bartender as a particular gender though i think they're vaguely A Guy#some more uhh grounded panels featured here lmao. not representative of the usual elevation. or is it???#a bit but not in all ways. there are like a half dozen sphincter related points#anyways i'm shouting out the concept of the just one that goes differently. one little glitch in the mundane system (both/all are you)
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Mouth watering sundress
Summary: John gives you a ride home from work, and his phone number…
It was the car ride from hell.
John drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one on the clutch, his truck smelled just like him. Oak wood, cigars and spiced oranges. It had a musky undertone that made you shift in your seat, thighs clenching uncomfortably. The Chevy he drove somehow didn’t surprise you and the country music quietly playing from the radio didn’t surprise you either.
His plaid button up shirt and loose blue jeans had you staring. You could see where the muscles were too big for his shirt when he changed gears it looked like it was going to rip. You wondered what it would feel like to have those muscular arms wrapped around your body.
You played with the hem of your floral sundress, tracing the little flowers while you scolded yourself for thinking such things about your gorgeous neighbour.
“How was work?” John asked with gentle curiosity, his big hand moving the clutch to change gear.
“It was okay.” You shrugged glancing out of the window only to look back at him and see a frown on his face.
“Just okay?” His eyebrows rose as he watched little old Doris pull out in front of him in her mini with no indication whatsoever.
“Yeah. I mean my job consists of listening to people complain on the phone and trying to fix their issues. It was pretty boring, only gets good when you get the screamers.” You laugh, watching the forest trees pass by as he drives.
“Screamers?” He asks, a small laugh coming out himself, though you picked up the concern dithering there. Tricks of the trade.
“People who start shouting or screaming down the phone as soon as you answer. Mostly cause they haven’t got they wanted from the company yet.” You explain, saying it so casually.
“That doesn’t sound too fun.”
“Maybe not fun but definitely an interesting change. Gives me something to think about on the weekends too. Maybe if I should have responded differently. How can I better my answers for next time it happens.” Your brows furrow slightly realising how pathetic you just sounded.
“No friends to make your weekends interesting?”he cleared his throat hoping he wasn’t too obvious here, “or boyfriend.” He glanced quickly at you out of the corner of his eyes to catch you cracking a small smile making one grow on his face too. So infectious.
“Some friends but they work on the weekends. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” That had John shifting into the wrong gear the car making a loud scraping noise, he scrambled to quickly rectify the situation before the car stalled.
“Fiance? Husband?” He grimaced saying it, if felt like a dirty word on his tongue, leaving a bitter after taste that quickly disappeared when he spotted no ring on your finger.
“Nope. Completely and pathetically single.” You sighed, not dramatic, but simply a deep breath that showed how tired you were from everything. And boy you were tired. Exhausted from the emotional stress of life.
“Oh?” His interest clear, just as much as his curiosity was.
“Every time I like a guy or even think about entering into a relationship, it always fucks up in a monumental way and I always end up hurt. Every single time.” You let out another tired sigh. It was hard to be single when both your friends had partners, always the third wheel. It made you really hate life at the moment. Though you suppose you’d been in worse positions than in a Chevy with your large, handsome neighbour.
You pulled up to a traffic light, John pulling up the hand break before turning to look at you with a deep seriousness gleaming not only in his eyes but on his face, his body language, his entire demeanour had become the embodiment of seriousness.
“I would never hurt you. Ever.” He was so earnest. It made your heart ache, yearn for the kind of man you’d always wanted but never had. Always boys, never men.
The light turned green just as you let out a shaky breath, fingers lacing together in your lap picking at your nails in nervousness. Heat rising on your cheeks when his hand reached over to lay itself on top of yours for a few moments before pulling your hands apart, “Don’t do that. You’ll ruin those pretty hands.” He lets go just as he looks deep into your eyes, “and we can’t have that can we.”
You didn’t know what to say, the glint in his eyes, the way he tipped his head to the side a bit. Fuck, he looked wonderful. You steeled yourself and consumed every bit of self confidence you had, “You think my hands are pretty?” You stared at him, blinking a few times, definitely not fluttering your lashes. Your eyes flickered to where his jaw seemed to clench tightly for a few moments.
The intensity was building as he leaned in closer to you, it had a burning feeling building in your stomach, a fluttering you’d never experienced before the longer he stared into your eyes
Before he could even open his mouth in reply the beeping of horns from the cars behind started going off. You cleared your throat turning to face the front of the car, “The lights green John.”
“Mhm.” It’s short. Sweet. And so fucking sexy. His voice gravely and low, rumbling in his chest as he hums. Prolonging his gaze upon you just a few more moments before he turns back to the steering wheel and begins driving off.
You quietly let out a breath you hadn’t realised had built up, it did nothing however to ease the fluttering in your stomach. Only seemed to make the nausea worsen. You made a point of not picking at your nails, instead you lay your hands over your thighs, the feeling of your skin and the material of your sundress distracting you enough to not see smirk that graced John’s lips.
John lips, those luscious kissable lips that seemed almost hidden away by the full beard that had grown around his mouth. Like some forbidden fruit hidden just enough in the garden of Eden. He seemed like some forbidden fruit.
He stopped the car just outside your house, getting out to open the car door for you to get out. “Thank you for the ride home.”
“Anytime sweetheart.” He gazed down at you, his height even more daunting now that he was standing. His whole being was just large. That was the best way to describe him.
-
Honestly, you thought about him for the rest of the evening and all night. You thought about his muscles, the way they stretched the fabric of his shirt over the skin. The way his hands seemed to dwarf everything, you wondered how big they would look holding yours. You thought about the way he smirked after calling your hands pretty. You thought about the way his blue eyes glistened when he gave you his phone number.
It was all you thought about. All that was on your mind with no way to get rid of it, no sign that the brazen thoughts would ever leave you. It was like your own personal brand of torture.
Even when you finally managed to drift off, you dreamed of him. Dreamed that he would touch you the way you wanted him to. That he would kiss you desperately, achingly. You were hungry to be touched by him, so hungry that even the very thought of tasting him made you feel nauseous. It had been so long since anything had touched you, that your body had grown accustom to the emptiness that gnawed at you day in, day out.
But maybe it was just what you needed, to push past the sickness. To hold on tight to the warmth that wanted to cover you, that wanted to wrap itself around you. But you couldn’t help but push it away, say no in cruel anticipation of the inevitable. Love is a tender kiss for most people. For you she saves her sharpest axe.
Waking up was humbling, how groggy and unhinged you felt after a night of thinking and dreaming of John. Rolling over in bed you unplugged your phone and began to scroll through your notifications. Your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of a new text; from John.
John: Hey pretty girl. 7:36am. read.
Holy shit, he’d text you this morning. Was it when he first woke up? He was he thinking about you all night too? This man is something else.
John: No reply already? I thought I would’ve had to say something stupid first before you ignored me sweetheart. ;) 9:41am. read.
You: Sorry, got distracted. How’d you sleep? 9:42am. read.
John: Like a log. You? 9:42am. read.
You: Could use a couple more hours honestly. 9:43am. read.
John: What do you have planned today sweetheart? 9:45am. read.
What did you have planned today? Rolling around in bed thinking about a well built beast with thick mutton chops. So enthralled with the simple idea of John.
Fuck you’d never met a man so….well manly. His big muscles and his thick musky scent that screamed masculine in the most primal way possible. In every circumstance, in every part of the world and every century, he would be the ideal mate. To protect and provide-
The ringing makes you jump, the phone vibrating in your hand as you see the unfamiliar number only just added to your phone. You breathe in sharply for a moment, blowing out shakily, hands beginning to sweat. And it’s not even him in person, it’s just a phone call.
“It’s just a phone call. You can press the end button at any time.” You tell yourself, reassuring yourself before sliding your thumb along the screen, the answer swipe turning green. You put the cold screen to your ear. “John?”
“I got impatient.” His voice sounded so low and deep, must be that its first thing in the morning.
“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” You mumble picking at the sheets surrounding you.
“Anything you wanna share? Or is it too soon to be prying into that pretty head of yours.”
“God you’re forward.” You breathe out a little laugh, a hot feeling fluttering in your stomach.
He laughed, heartily. “I’m just wired that way love.”
“I’m not sure if I like it.”
“Oh?” John voice was light and soft, if you were really leaning into it you’d notice the tinge of disappointment in the sound.
“It’s catching me off guard. I like to keep my cards close to my chest.” You swirled your finger along the pattern of the crocheted pillow in front of you.
“I’d happily let you play me.”
“John.” You breathe out another laugh, your heart skipping a beat.
“Like that,” he huffed low and wild, “like when you say my name. Sounds so nice coming from you.”
“It does?”
“Well with a pretty voice like that, I’m sure you can make anything sound nice.” He chuckled. And fuck you had to mute with how you giggled, kicking your feet with giddiness.
“So you want to go for lunch?” The rumbly bearish throaty sexy voice melted your knees until they felt like jelly.
“Again with the forwardness.” Your flushed cheeks hurt, couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, and he could hear it.
“I’m a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.” John answered without so much as a thought, the answer coming so naturally.
“I’ll consider it.” You pressed the red button and jumped in the shower, cold and brisk. It was the only way to bring your burning body temperature down.
John was unlike anybody you’d ever met, definitely better than an of your exs and you hadn’t even gotten to the deep stuff yet.
You wrapped a towel around your body and began to dry your hair with your other towel when you noticed your phone light up, a nervous grin tugging at your lips as you picked up the device and read the text.
John: Considered it yet? 10:02. read.
You shook your head, teeth biting into your smile. He was so unashamed and so bold. It made you question yourself, made you want more than you had once had. Made you want him.
You: I’d love to have lunch with you. 10:04am. read.
John: I’ll pick you up in an hour, wear that mouth watering sundress again ;) 10:04am. delivered.
Mouth watering sundress? Fuck, no one had ever said that to you before. Hell no one had ever offered so many compliments in one conversation before. He was truly a man of different breed. You giggled again falling into your bed and kicking your feet in the air, he was such a flirt. You loved it.
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Roommate Rumble || Vil Schoenheit
You and Vil end up as roommates due to administrative error. Unstoppable force (Vil's perfectionism) meets immovable object (your chaos). It ends up working out perfectly.
and they were roommates!!!!
You’re sitting in the most soul-crushing waiting room imaginable—stale air, uncomfortable plastic chairs, and the smell of desperation. You’re waiting for the housing office to process your late application, which, in hindsight, you should’ve done weeks ago, but hey, it’s college. Time isn’t real here.
Between borderline disastrous drinking sessions, last-minute assignments, and your general vibe of chaos, the fact that you’ve even made it this far is kind of a miracle. But now, thanks to your masterclass in procrastination, you’re about to get assigned a random housemate for the year. At this point, you’re too mentally checked out to care who it is. As long as they don’t steal your ramen, it’ll be fine… probably.
The door swings open, and in walks the most absurdly pretty man you’ve ever seen. Like, this dude looks like he stepped straight off the cover of a magazine. And not just any magazine—like, one of those high-fashion ones where people look all ethereal and judgmental at the same time.
You try not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s got this aura about him, as if he’s too good for this building, this situation, this plane of existence. He walks up to the front desk, where the housing clerk is, predictably, typing at the speed of a snail.
“I’m here to check the status of my application,” the guy says, his voice smooth but with a distinct undercurrent of annoyance.
The clerk squints at her computer, clicks around a bit, then frowns. “Uh… what was your name again?”
The guy rolls his eyes, but still answers with the grace of a runway model, “Vil Schoenheit.”
You nearly choke. Vil Schoenheit? Isn’t that, like, some kind of celebrity? You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him on billboards for fancy skincare products or something. Now you’re really trying not to stare.
“Uh… huh,” the clerk says, now looking vaguely uncomfortable. “It seems… we may have, um, misplaced your form.”
Vil stares at her, and you can practically feel the temperature in the room drop by several degrees. “Misplaced?” he repeats, his tone icy. “You lost my form?”
“W-Well, not lost,” she stammers, “more like, uh, temporarily… not found.”
Vil’s eyes narrow, and you have to hand it to him—he makes passive-aggressive sound like an art form. “And how, exactly, do you plan to rectify this?”
The clerk clicks around desperately on her computer again, clearly wishing she was anywhere else. “Well, um, we’re going to have to randomly assign you a housemate. Since we don’t have time to redo the whole process… y-you’ll just have to— Oh, wait!” She pauses, glancing between you and Vil. “You both applied at the same time, so you can just… be housemates! Problem solved!”
There’s a beat of absolute silence as you and Vil both process this. You glance at him, and he glances back, slowly looking you up and down with the precision of someone scanning for flaws in a diamond.
Finally, he sighs, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “Acceptable.”
You blink, unsure whether you should feel insulted or… flattered? He says it with the same tone you’d use to describe a pair of shoes that don’t quite match your outfit, but are passable in a pinch.
You don’t even get the chance to respond because, let’s be real, your brain is still trying to catch up. Did Vil Schoenheit just say you were “acceptable” as a housemate?
Honestly, though, you shrug it off. If you’re being real, as long as he stays in his room and you stay in yours, who cares if you’re housemates with a guy who looks like he bathes in designer moisturizer?
“Great!” the clerk chirps, relieved to have avoided death by model glare. “You’re all set, then! Enjoy your semester!”
You glance at Vil one more time, who’s already looking like he regrets every life choice that led him here. Meanwhile, you’re just hoping he doesn’t judge you for eating pizza rolls at 3 AM.
It's three days into this whole housemate arrangement with Vil, and honestly, it’s not bad. You’ve barely even crossed each other’s paths, which works out perfectly. He does his thing, you do your thing—totally peaceful.
You stumble out of bed one morning, still half-asleep, grab the first set of clothes you can find on the floor (you’re 90% sure these jeans don’t belong to you), and zombie-walk your way to the kitchen. You’re already 15 minutes late to class, but who cares? Time isn’t real, and neither is your motivation.
As you shuffle in, you spot Vil at the counter. He’s sitting there, back straight, eating what looks like a perfect, Instagram-worthy breakfast. It’s all eggs and avocado toast and some kind of smoothie that’s probably made from fruits you’ve never even heard of. He’s impeccably dressed, even though it’s like 7 AM, and you can’t help but be mildly impressed. The guy is a full-time student, works as a model and actor, and still manages to look like he just walked off a red carpet.
Meanwhile, you’re over here in a mismatched hoodie and some band T-shirt from high school, hair resembling a rat’s nest, and the sheer determination of a person who’s willing to eat raw cereal to survive.
You try to be polite, offering Vil a smile. Or at least, what you think is a smile. It’s probably more of a grimace, to be honest. You’re running on fumes, and it shows.
Vil glances at you, eyes narrowing like he’s silently assessing every poor life choice you’ve made up to this point. Still, he says nothing, just gives a tiny nod of acknowledgment.
You head straight for the pantry, grab a box of cereal, and rip open a Red Bull. Breakfast of champions. You’re about to pour the cereal into your mouth raw, no milk, no dignity, when suddenly—
SMACK.
The Red Bull flies out of your hand, clattering to the counter, and you’re left holding an empty cereal box like some kind of fool. You stare at it in shock, then turn to Vil, who’s looking at you like you just summoned Satan.
“Dude??” You blink, genuinely confused.
Vil crosses his arms, expression disgusted as he points at the stove, where there are some leftovers of whatever perfect meal he made earlier. “That,” he says, enunciating like he’s explaining basic math to a child, “is food. What you were about to ingest is poison.”
You look between him and your spilled Red Bull. “Uh, that was breakfast?”
“No,” Vil snaps, “that was a caffeine overdose waiting to happen. And dry cereal? Have you lost the will to live entirely?”
You’re still processing the fact that he just slapped your breakfast out of your hands when you glance at the stove again. Your stomach growls, and, well, you guess your organs could use something that won’t actively try to kill you.
“Fine,” you mutter, shuffling over to grab a plate. “But if I’m late to class, I’m blaming you.”
Vil barely glances at you as you load up your plate with whatever masterpiece he’s made. “You’re already late,” he says flatly.
“...Okay, fair.”
You sit down at the table, expecting the silence to be awkward, but it’s surprisingly chill. You eat, Vil eats, and for a brief, strange moment, it’s kind of peaceful. You didn’t think breakfast could be… normal. Not with someone like him.
Just as you finish, Vil stands up, wipes his mouth, and gives you a small nod. “You’re welcome,” he says, like he’s just saved your life—which, in his eyes, he probably has. Then he grabs his bag and leaves the kitchen without another word.
You sit there for a moment, fork still in your hand, feeling oddly touched. Then you glance at the clock.
You’re now 30 minutes late to class.
Totally worth it.
You pass out at 4 a.m., your body finally giving in to the pure exhaustion that college life has inflicted on you. You're in that deep, blissful sleep when, at exactly 7 a.m., you're jolted awake by a scream so loud it feels like it rattled the entire room.
At first, you try to ignore it, desperately clinging to the last remnants of sleep. But after a moment, you groggily realize there’s no escaping it. You groan and roll out of bed, stumbling into the hallway with all the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie, not even bothering to change out of your mismatched pajamas.
Standing outside his room, on top of a chair(???), looking absolutely frazzled, is Vil Schoenheit. Hair still perfect, but his usual calm demeanor is gone, replaced by… well, panic?
“What the hell happened?” you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
Vil’s face is pale, and he gestures to the door of his room with a shaky hand. “There’s—there’s something in there.”
Your brain immediately jumps to the worst. An intruder? A stalker? A wild animal? Something actually dangerous? Vil shifts behind you, as you carefully open the door just enough for you to peer inside. You brace yourself, expecting to see something terrifying.
Instead, Vil points dramatically toward the floor. “There.”
You blink. And then you see it—a cockroach. A big one, sure, but still. A cockroach.
You turn to Vil slowly, your face a mask of pure judgment. “You woke me up… for this?”
Vil, now perched on a chair, crosses his arms indignantly. “It’s not about fear. It’s about disgust. I am not touching that.”
You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“...No. No, you don’t.”
Resigned, you grab a cup and a piece of paper from the kitchen. You approach the cockroach like some kind of extermination expert, scoop it up, and open the nearest window. With one swift motion, you throw the unfortunate bug into the outside world, praying it finds a better life somewhere far, far away.
“There,” you say, tossing the cup in the trash. “Crisis averted.”
Vil, still standing on his chair like the floor is lava, steps down carefully, brushing off his clothes with an air of dignity as if he hadn’t just been screaming at a cockroach. “I wasn’t scared,” he says, straightening his posture. “I was disgusted.”
You nod along, patting him on the shoulder with the patience of someone who knows it’s best not to argue. “Sure. No problem. Don’t worry about it.”
Vil purses his lips, his pride clearly a little bruised, but he still offers a tight smile. “Thank you.”
You wave him off as you shuffle back to your room, your bed calling you back like a siren. As you flop onto the mattress, you think to yourself, He might be a diva, but damn, he’s gorgeous.
With that, you pass out again, hoping to squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep before the universe inevitably conspires to ruin your day again.
You and Vil have settled into an odd but functional arrangement. If not quite friends, you’re definitely acquaintances with benefits — and by benefits, you mean Vil keeps you from dying a slow death via your terrible diet, and in return, you serve as his on-call exterminator for the various bugs your old house seems determined to spawn. It’s a mutual understanding, and lately, he’s stopped questioning your life decisions. Well, not as much.
One afternoon, you’re sprawled on the couch, half-asleep and doomscrolling on some social media app, when Vil clears his throat. You jolt upright, momentarily thinking you’re about to get a lecture about posture, only to find him standing there, looking at you in a way that’s… almost awkward?
“What’s up?” you ask, genuinely curious because Vil being awkward is as rare as you cooking anything edible.
Without a word, he hands you an invitation, embossed with gold lettering and all. It's for a performance competition on campus. The kicker? Vil’s participating.
“You want me to come?” you ask, surprised.
He waves a hand, trying to look nonchalant. “Only if you’re available,” he says, but there’s a slight tremor in his voice. He’s trying to play it cool, but the slightest hint of tension betrays him.
You have no plans (unless eating ramen at 2 a.m. counts), so you agree. “Sure, I’ll come.”
The day of the competition arrives, and you actually dress like a normal human being for once. Vil didn’t give you any kind of ultimatum about your outfit, but you figure you should at least try to look like you belong among the living.
You’re in the front row — of course, Vil had VIP tickets to a performance competition. The crowd is buzzing, but you’ve barely noticed because your attention is glued to the stage.
Vil appears, bathed in light, and you swear you’ve just glimpsed into heaven. His voice is smooth and captivating, his moves are graceful, and his gaze? One hundred percent lethal. It’s almost unfair. He’s the kind of performer that could turn someone to stone with a look.
You’re standing there, feeling the ridiculous urge to brag to the people around you that he’s your roommate. “Yeah, that’s right, I share a bathroom with that guy.”
Then, Neige LeBlanche takes the stage. Now, you’ve heard the hype. Neige is the campus sweetheart, the kind of guy who probably smiles at babies and rescues kittens from trees. If Vil is the untouchable beauty you admire from afar, Neige is the best friend you’d want by your side, also weirdly gorgeous.
You expect another powerhouse performance. You’re bracing yourself for it. And then… he starts singing.
Wait.
Is Neige… singing a nursery rhyme?
You blink. The crowd is eating it up, swaying along like they’ve been hypnotized. Meanwhile, you’re just standing there, dumbfounded, the only person in the front row not bopping along.
You glance around, jaw practically on the floor. Is everyone here insane? The man is singing something that you swear you heard at preschool.
And then it happens. Neige wins. The audience erupts into cheers, and you think the universe is playing a cosmic joke on you. What the actual—?
“What the fuck?” The words slip out before you can stop them, loud enough that the people around you turn to stare. Apparently, your disbelief is showing. You even catch Vil’s eye for a moment, and he smirks weakly at your outburst, but it’s clear the loss stung. A little part of you feels something unfamiliar—anger on someone else’s behalf.
You don’t even stay for the encore. It’s either leave or throw something at the stage, and you’d rather not get banned from campus events. You march out of the hall, still fuming.
Later, when Vil returns, you can see it in the slight slump of his shoulders. The air of perfection is still there, but it’s a little cracked around the edges. That anger bubbles up again.
But you have a plan. A master plan.
Vil’s been telling you for weeks that you’d look decent if you just took care of yourself, and you’ve been brushing him off like the human disaster you are. But tonight, for him? You’re willing to make a sacrifice.
So, when he looks at you, barely meeting your eyes, you blurt out, “You can do whatever you want to me.”
His eyes widen slightly. “What?”
“Whatever creams, lotions, skincare products—you want to use on me. Go wild. I’ll be your project for the night.”
Vil’s expression lights up like a kid who just found out Christmas came early. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to get this excited about transforming you from a crusty goblin into a passable human, but here we are. And honestly? You kinda owe him at least this much, considering he makes sure you don’t die from malnutrition.
The next hour is nothing short of war. Vil is aggressively applying products to your face like he’s trying to sandpaper your soul clean. His focus is deadly serious, his hands precise as he rubs some fancy serum onto your skin.
Between all the smearing of moisturizers and the occasional Ow!, the two of you start talking. Or rather, you start griping about Neige’s performance.
“I mean, seriously? A nursery rhyme?” you groan, rolling your eyes.
Vil huffs, his fingers moving swiftly over your cheeks. “Don’t remind me. The judges clearly have no taste. What kind of competition rewards… that?”
“Right? I was ready to riot. Your performance was like…” You search for the right words as he smears something cold on your forehead. “It was like watching art come to life, and then he goes and sings Twinkle Twinkle and everyone acts like he just reinvented music.”
Vil laughs—an actual laugh, something deep and genuine that makes the tension in his shoulders ease a little. “You sound like you wanted to run on stage and throw him off.”
“Maybe I did,” you mutter, wincing as he pats something into your skin a little too enthusiastically. “Honestly, the only reason I didn’t is because I didn’t want to get banned from campus events.”
By the time he’s finished, Vil steps back to admire his work like an artist assessing a freshly painted canvas. “There,” he says, his voice softer now. “You look… acceptable.”
“Wow, high praise,” you snort, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Vil.”
He smiles back, something quieter and more genuine. “Thank you.”
You wave him off, already heading to your phone. “So… delivery tonight? I’m thinking chicken?”
Vil wrinkles his nose. “Not fried. How about sushi?”
“Deal,” you grin.
As you place the order, you can’t help but think—yeah, maybe you and Vil are friends now. Weird, slightly dysfunctional friends. But friends, nonetheless.
You’ve been working on this project for months. Countless sleepless nights, caffeine-fueled coding sessions, and a pile of stress larger than your student loan debt have led to this moment. It’s crunch time. You’re this close to submitting your final assignment. You think you deserve a break, so you go to order a coffee—just 10 minutes, tops.
But when you come back? Your laptop, your precious laptop, is gone.
You look around in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Someone stole it. The weeks of coding, months of planning, your entire project, everything. Gone.
You do the only thing you can think of when life throws you a sucker punch like this: you go drink.
You’re a few shots deep when your phone buzzes. It’s Vil. He’s asking, “Are you going to be home for dinner?” His voice is sharp, but you can’t even string together a coherent answer. You let out some garbled mess of a response that’s more slurred syllables than actual words.
There’s a pause, then a very clear “Send me your location. Now.”
Vil shows up at the bar like he’s stepped out of a luxury fashion magazine, a vision of elegance in this grimy little dive. You’re nursing what can only be described as a sad excuse for a cocktail, and he just gives you this look—disapproving, concerned, and about two seconds away from reading you the riot act.
He doesn’t say a word as he helps you out of the bar and drives you home. You can barely sit upright in the passenger seat, mumbling something about losing your laptop. You’re not even sure if he hears you.
Back at home, Vil sits you down on the couch and hands you a glass of water. “Drink,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You sip the water, slowly sobering up, though your mind is still a mess. Meanwhile, Vil is pacing back and forth like an actor in a drama, preparing for his monologue. And then it comes. He’s yelling at you, frustration and worry bubbling up to the surface.
“What are you doing to yourself? Why are you so determined to self-destruct?!” he demands. “You eat like garbage, you barely sleep, you pass out at random hours of the morning, and now you’re drinking like you’re on some kind of mission to obliterate your liver!”
You can’t take it anymore. His words break something inside you, and you just… fall apart. Tears stream down your face, and you sob, unable to hold it together any longer.
Vil immediately stops pacing, his expression softening in an instant. He crouches down in front of you, gently resting his hands on your shoulders. “Why are you crying?” he asks, his voice now quiet, almost tender.
You try to explain between hiccupping sobs. “My laptop—it’s gone. I… I worked so hard, and now it’s all gone. Someone stole it.”
Without hesitation, Vil pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “We’ll figure it out.” He holds you like he can somehow undo the theft, like he can bring back what’s lost just by being there. And in that moment, you cling to him, sobbing into his shoulder as if the world could collapse around you and it wouldn’t matter because he’s holding you together.
You wake up hours later, still curled up on the couch, with a hangover so brutal it could bring empires to their knees. But something’s off. You realize you’re not just lying on the couch—no, you’re lying on someone’s lap.
You blink and look up. Vil’s sitting there, talking softly on the phone, one hand gently patting your head. You try to make sense of it, but the pounding in your skull makes that nearly impossible.
“No, Rook, I don’t care how you do it. Just find it.” Vil says into the phone, his hand still idly resting on your head. He doesn’t seem too concerned about you waking up—if anything, he seems almost like he’s daring you to go back to sleep.
And you do.
The next time you wake up, it’s to the world’s loudest human: Rook Hunt.
“Ah, mon ami, I come bearing treasures!” he announces as he swoops into the room, a grin plastered across his face. In his hands? Your laptop.
You sit up, blinking in disbelief. “What…? How did you get my laptop?”
Rook flashes you a sly smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, it was no small feat, but for Vil’s amour—”
“Rook!” Vil snaps, cutting him off with a glare that could freeze fire. “That’s enough.”
You look between them, still not fully understanding what just happened, but you’re too relieved to care. You practically leap off the couch and grab your laptop, hugging it to your chest like it’s your long-lost child.
Before you can stop yourself, you turn and hug Rook, then Vil, a huge grin spreading across your face. Then, in a moment of pure, unfiltered gratitude, you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Vil blinks, momentarily stunned by the gesture, but before he can say anything, you’re already dashing back to your room to finish your assignment.
As you shut the door, you can hear Rook’s laughter from the other side.
“You’re impossible,” he mutters to himself, but there’s a warmth in his eyes. Maybe you are a walking disaster, a self-destructive potato. But you’re his favorite potato.
It’s finally the end of the semester, and a little notification pops up on your phone: Housing Applications Now Open.
If you apply now, you could get your old dorm back—no housemate, no interruptions, just you and your tragic life decisions. No one telling you to eat healthy or waking you up at ungodly hours over insect-related emergencies. Just you, alone, in your beautifully chaotic mess. And Vil? He’d probably go back to wherever he was before, maybe with someone like Rook who actually knows how to behave like a normal person.
You should be thrilled by this prospect. A whole apartment to yourself again. But instead, your stomach is doing weird somersaults, and not the normal “I forgot to eat breakfast” ones. This feels... different. Kind of like the time you ate that suspicious leftover curry, except this time it’s your heart that feels like it’s about to implode.
Oh. Oh no.
You sit there for a solid 10 minutes, staring at the housing application, feeling something suspiciously like heartbreak. And being the impulsive disaster that you are, you decide the best thing to do is to blurt out your feelings without any consideration for how unhinged it might sound.
So when Vil comes home, looking elegant and put-together as always, ready to greet you with his usual "Good evening..." you don’t even let him finish. You jump up, and before you can second-guess yourself, you blurt out, "I’m in love with you. Deeply. Hopelessly. In love."
Vil freezes mid-step, his eyebrows shooting up so fast they might actually fly off his face. There’s a solid beat of silence as he processes what you just said.
“…Excuse me?” He blinks, looking like you just told him you set the kitchen on fire again. “What did you just say?”
You gulp but there’s no backing out now. You’ve committed. “I said I’m in love with you. Like... seriously. I think you might’ve ruined me for life.”
Vil stares at you, and for a second, you’re terrified that you’ve broken him. But then—he laughs. He laughs so hard he doubles over, clutching his sides like you just told the world’s best joke.
You blink, baffled. “Uh... you good?”
Vil wipes at the corner of his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, potato…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “I love you too, you ridiculous creature.”
“Wait, what?” Now it’s your turn to stare in shock.
Vil sighs, but there’s a fond smile on his lips. “I was going to ask if you wanted to room together again next semester. But, you know... in a better apartment. One without bugs or whatever demons this place keeps spawning.”
You blink once, twice, processing his words. He wanted to room with you again? In a better place? Your heart does a little flip in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you’re grinning like an idiot. “Oh, hell yeah.”
Without thinking, you pull him close and kiss him. It’s quick and impulsive, but somehow it feels right. When you pull back, you find Vil smiling at you with something soft in his eyes, like he’s genuinely content.
“Maybe I don’t wanna die young after all,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.
Vil raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “That’s a start. Now, go drink some water before you pass out from dehydration.”
You laugh, content for the first time in forever. Maybe this whole “life” thing wasn’t so bad after all. At least, not when you had Vil by your side.
Masterlist
guys I promise I don't hate neige I just hated the VDC ending I wanted to off myself fr
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit x you#vil schoenheit#vil#twst vil#and they were roommates
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Mine
DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Dom Leon, Sub Reader, Praise Kink, Restraints, Daddy kink, Spitting, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Choking, Age-Gap, Slight Dd/lg dynamics, Mirror Sex, Poessive Leon, Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of body changes during pregnancy
Summary: After returning from a hard mission successfully, Leon has been ignoring you opting to close in on himself...getting fed up with the lack of attention and worried he will slip back into his old ways you try to get it back at him, only to end up with him giving you the punishment he thinks you deserve.
Can anyone tell if I have a breeding kink yet? My requests are open if anyone wants any more fics like this!
He was pissed. You could tell as his back was tense, his muscles tight as he led you throughout the events room, and your heels slipping against the hardwood floor as you barely managed to keep up with his pace. You didn't even notice that one of his coworkers had gotten close to you on the dance floor until he began touching you, however, you also didn't stop him. You were just enjoying the buzz of the large amounts of champagne you had drank so the night was even bearable. Neither of you wanted to come to this work event, to Leon it felt strange celebrating the so-called success of the mission even though there were so many lives lost and to you - you just didn't want to put up with the sour attitude he seemed to have gained since returning. You knew his job was hard and he faced many things so you never would have to thanks to what he does but it was hard to see him retreating into himself, snapping at you instead of cuddling and doting on you like he normally would. You could see that he was losing himself to the drinks that found their way into his hands every night; closing himself off which then eventually led to sloppy sex and drunken arguments. You were beginning to worry he would fall back into his old ways if you could drag him out of it.
Maybe that's why instead of pushing the coworker away you drew him in closer with the hypnotizing sway of your hips, the man's hands slipping over the satin of your red dress as he brought you closer to his body. The alcohol brought a smile to your features as you leant back into him, finally basking in the affection and lust you had desired the past few weeks. You could feel Leon's piercing gaze from the bar, your eyes landing on his features as he sipped from the whiskey glass. His gaze was heated, his jaw tight you would think his teeth would crumble away from the pressure he was putting on them. Part of you wanted to cringe away and run back to him like a little lost puppy like you always did. But after how he's been treating you (and the liquid encouragement you have been sipping on for the past hour) you decided to spin around in the man's arms; looping your own around his neck. Leon made you jump when he appeared, his grip hard on your arm as he ripped you away from the man and led you to the exit.
Leon thanked the valet man as he took the keys, making sure you were buckled in safely before slamming the door shut. The sound made you jump; before you began smoothing out the skirt of your dress to hide your reaction. Rock music flickered on throughout the car as the engine turned on, the city lights blurring together as he drove off. Your eyes remained on the passing skyline, refusing to acknowledge how his hand remained on the gearstick, not your thigh like normal. The silence left you stewing in your own thoughts, questions of how you were going to rectify the situation swirling around your drunken brain. His focus remained on the road, his hands now clenched around the steering wheel, your hand crept into his space; jolting at the feeling of your fingers splayed out along the hard muscle of his thigh. They began dancing teasingly around the bulge of his jeans. But instead of adjusting himself, relaxing back into the seat he simply lifted your hand and placed it back in your own lap. Sighing lightly you rested your head against the window getting lost in the swirling lights as they passed.
He finally glanced your way as you shuffled into the elevator, his gaze was intense as he watched you. Your heel-clad feet shuffled against the floor as you swayed slightly - evidence that you weren't quite sobered up yet. Leon's brain was loud with the constant thoughts battling, wondering whether he should continue to ignore you or finally give in and remind you of who you belonged to. His eyes landed on the necklace that dangled above your cleavage. The encrusted diamonds twinkled in the low light of the elevator with each breath you took. He stared at the L, the only symbol of your belonging to him. He supposed he could have put an equally beautiful and expensive ring on your finger - the easiest way for someone to know you were his. But there was no fun in that, he couldn't watch his seed spill out from between your thighs as he finished claiming you. Praying during his observation that this was the load that took, that would soon cause your sweet body to swell with evidence of himself. He felt his cock twitch at the prison it was enclosed in, his hands finding their way into his jacket pocket as he continued to stare at your pretty thighs.
He never thought he wanted children or a wife but after having met you in some dingy bar he rolled into after a hard mission all of that changed. You were sweet and easy - a stark contrast to everything else in his life but once you finally fell in his sheets the grin on his face when he saw finally how you presented yourself so perfectly for him. Your smooth skin against his scarred fingertips felt heavenly, your pretty whines and moans were just the sweetest tunes to him as he would pump his cock deep inside of you. He fell into the role you needed with ease, the age gap was never an issue for him. With you, he got a chance to live, a chance to have all the things that the younger cop inside of him dreamed of. That's why his blood filled with rage when he watched you dancing with his much younger coworker, the man having no idea who you belonged to, not even paying attention the the L that dangled between your breasts.
His body loomed behind you as you unlocked the door to your apartment, you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. Once you had made it inside you turned to face him, to finally demand attention after all these weeks. Even preparing a few tears but his face made you shut off the act almost instantly, his eyes darkening as he glanced at the soft fabric that lay perfectly over your frame. "Bedroom" He finally spoke, his voice low and rough. You slipped the heels off, ignoring their clatter against the floor as you dropped them. Your bare feet slapped against the floor as you made your retreat.
You perched against the edge of the bed, your hand instantly finding comfort in the necklace as you fiddled with it. "So you do know who you belong to then" He spoke as he walked through the door, his back straight and chin held high. You nodded, shame and guilt replacing the alcohol in your system faster than you would have expected. "Come on now darling, you can use your words" He spoke again, his form now slotting himself in between your thighs. His fingers pinched the tip of your chin lightly as he raised your eyes to meet his, smiling at the sorrow that was already displayed in them. "I do" You spoke meekly. Leon finally pressed his lips against your own and you groaned at the taste of him. Your small hands spread out against his thighs; gripping at the fabric. You whimpered as he pulled away, wincing slightly as he pushed your cheeks together and forced your mouth open ready for you to take the spit he drippled into your mouth. "So greedy for Daddy's attention you'll take anything" He whispered, his hands stroking your hair lovingly as he gazed down at you. "Strip" He commanded as he stepped away, the warmth being relaxed with lust and desire as he began watching you intensely.
Your dress pooled at your ankles as you stepped away from the fabric, your underwear still encasing your pretty pussy in a tiny pink bow. Leon swallowed, ignoring his twitching cock practically growling at the sight of your soft skin. He smirked as your dumb eyes followed his finger to the bed, obeying his command without question. He eagerly watched as your breasts bounced as you got comfy, settling yourself against the softness of the sheets below you. He worked on undoing the silky tie that hung around his neck, his shoes clicking against the floor as he approached you. Leon's hands were gentle as he tied the fabric over your eyes, smiling at the way you squirmed slightly as his fingers brushed against the nape of your neck as he pulled away.
Part of him felt bad for leaving you like this, but he was sucked into the world of his own pain he didn't realize how much he had neglected you. He was defiantly going to repay you for all these weeks you had spent with an aching cunt but first, he needed to remind you who's in charge. You could hear him manoeuvring around the room, opening drawers and rummaging for things. Each item landed on the bed with a soft thud. Your fingers smoothed over the silky tie, itching to untie it. "Don't you dare" his voice whispered in your ear. You hadn't even realised he was so close. You fought back a smile as you felt his hands wrap around your wrists bringing them above your head. You felt him tighten the leather cuffs around your wrists holding them in place with a bar in between, the cold leather cooling your heated skin. The bar spread your hands apart at a comfortable distance, the metal clattering against the headboard as you tested the tightness of them. You gasps as Leon gently nipped at your peaked nipples, taking the bud in his mouth and sucking on it. The pads of his fingers ran along your smooth skin, drawing delicate patterns in their wake. He watched as your back arched once he reached your clothed pussy, smirking at the dampness of the gusset.
"My poor baby, all needy for her Daddy" Leon teased as he ran his fingers along the fabric. You whimpered as he retracted the digits to pull the panties down your legs, nipping at the skin along the way. Leon lifted your legs, inserting himself in between them, the small hairs that littered along his thighs tickled your own as he rested them on top. A low buzzing sound filled the room making you jump when the toy he had bought out finally made contact. Leon chuckled lowly as you squirmed away once the bullet made contact with your puffy clit. Normally Leon would warm you up, using the toy along your body, the cold metal leaving goosebumps as it moved across your skin; but not this time. Your breaths began to shorten as your body desperately attempted to adjust to the sudden stream of pleasure that coursed through you. Your lower half became numb with white pleasure as he began to circle the toy around the sensitive nub making sure not to stray too far away from it. He watched carefully at the way your body squirmed, your mouth parting to let out your oh-so-sweet whimpers; paying attention to every small detail ready to pull the pleasure at just the right time.
You tugged against the restraints, your fingers curling into fists desperate to clutch onto something. Leon smirked when he pulled the pleasure away, his cock jumping at the high-pitched whine that left your plump lips. "Daddy-please I'm so sorry" you began to cry, hiding your head into your arm as best you could with them still being suspended above you. Leon's heart broke at the sight of your frustrated tears, wanting nothing more than to treat you to the pleasure you craved and he had neglected to give you. "Sorry for what?" he spoke again, pressing the toy against your clit again. He grinned as you squirmed desperately on the bed. "For dancing with the man" You cried against your arm, the bar clatering again as you fought against them, trying to finally grasp at Leon. "I bought you this necklace so you wouldn't forget baby, but you still did" he teased, his fingers playing with the initial hanging against your chest. You could feel your release creeping in again, your toes curling as your hips bucked up to the pleasure. "I didn't- I still know" You whimpered.
Leon smiled at you, his tip flushed red as it sat proudly against his toned stomach. His pre-cum dribbled steadily down his shaft like he was a teenager again. "I wish you could see what you do to me baby" he spoke, stroking strands of your hair away from your face. He pulled the toy away, smirking at the sound that you released in a fit of frustration. "Please" You begged, tears brimming in your eyes. "I really want to"
Instead, you felt his hand grip at your hips, helping you roll over as he pressed your chest into the mattress arching your back perfectly so he could see your dripping entrance. Leon's body leaned over your own, his weeping tip slotting in between your cheeks; rubbing himself against you as he slowly removed the tie from your eyes. He chuckles at you groan of frustration that even though he has returned your sight you still can't see him yet. Your hands were still spread out in front of you as he began to gather your slick against himself. Eventually, you felt him prodding at your entrance, groaning at the stretch as he slowly entered. Your gummy walls stretched to accommodate his girth. His movements were painfully slow as he began to thrust, his hands loosely grasping at your hips. Your whimpers made him smile as you desperately tried to buck back into him chasing an orgasm you only prayed he finally gave you. "Please...I learnt my lesson I swear" you cried, burying your flushed face into the plush duvet below you. Leon paused, his cock half in your walls; he grinned at the ring of your arousal at the base and the way you tried to impale yourself further on his cock only stopped by his grip tightening.
"I'm going to pump you so full of my seed that it's going to take and show everyone who you belong to" Leon whispered in your ear as he leant back over you. You watched as his fingers began to undo the cuffs, your mind becoming fuzzy from his words, his scent and the fact you were soon going to be able to touch him. Your small brain remembers to wait for his command at least as you watch the leather fall from your wrists. "Good girl, being so obedient for me...just the way I like" he whispered as he finally rose from your back. His praise caused your pussy to clench around the tip of his cock, eliciting a groan from his lips. His hands brought yours around his neck, lifting you against him as he began to thrust upwards. Your fingers instantly wove themselves in the blond strands, hiding your face against his pulse point, enjoying the way his muscles moved against your back. Your mind blocked out the sound of the toy as he began to speed up his pace, moaning loudly when the bullet made contact with your sensitive skin. Leon knew it wouldn't take long for your orgasm to ripple through you, opting for his other hand to tweak and grope one of your perked breasts.
"Look baby" he spoke, bringing your attention to the mirror you hadn't realized he had lined you both up with. Your eyes instantly were glued onto the sight of his cock fucking into you. "I want you to see what I will do to you, watch yourself take my load deep inside this perfect pussy like the good girl you claim to be" he spoke lowly, small grunts leaving his lips as his eyes were also glued onto the sight in front of you both. You met his eyes in the mirror, his darkened stare meeting your own with such lust that you finally felt the release flood through you.
But he didn't stop, his hips never stopping their pace instead increasing as he felt your gummy walls continue to clench around him. His hand left your breast instead finding its way around your neck, a new perfect necklace for you instead of the initial. His brain became fuzzy as he thought of his animalistic desire to breed you. To watch as you swelled with his cum. His balls tightened at the thought of your frame changing, at how beautiful you would blossom to be after what he had done to you. His grip tightened around your neck, and the lack of oxygen caused your brain to become fuzzy as you gazed up at him. Craving to taste his lips.
He met them in a sloppy kiss, his grip loosening slightly as he finally grunted inside you, spilling his warm seed deep inside of you. You both watched as it dribbled out from where you were conjoined. Your chests scyronising as you both caught your breaths. "I'm so sorry Daddy" you whimpered out, the fussiness of your brain finally reducing as you continued to stare at each other in the mirror. "I won't dance with anyone again" Leon smiled, kissing the crown of your head. "Don't worry love, everyone will know who you belong to now" He spoke as his hand fell over your stomach rubbing the soft skin there.
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil fanfiction#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy death island#leon kennedy imagine#leon resident evil#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader
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The falling | joel miller x f!reader, 5k
Summary: It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything. You're falling. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone. Or you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST. That's it. Ok, bye. But seriously, angst, a whole lot of angst, alternated POVs, husband!joel, wife!reader, cheater!joel, married couple, Joel fucks another f!person, reference to sexual activity but nothing too detailed, as I said before-ANGST, excessive use of the word fuck, Joel is kind of a dick on this one, as always let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: Let me know how you feel about this lost little puppy, I know he sounds arrogant and awful, maybe I can rectify that, on a second part. If you're interested in a closure for these two, hit me in the comments! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘
Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
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It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything.
Everything dear and loved and cherished and so close to your heart. Your heart itself.
You still can’t decide if it’s liberating or torturing, to have that exact moment burned in your thoughts like a Polaroid.
But the pain is real. The pain is excruciating. It spreads like vines through your whole body, starting from the pit of your stomach in the form of a bile you try to hold back, moving to your heart’s agonizing clench, licking to the ends of your numb limbs which remain obstinately immobile. It feels almost like floating, but not exactly.
You’re falling; you’re still falling as if there’s no luxurious, expensive floor underneath your feet, holding you surprisingly still up. You wait for the landing, the crush, unmoving, unblinking, not quite breathing. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone.
Your designer’s tote bag, another unnecessarily extravagant gift from your husband, drops from your hands to the floor with a loud thud.
Joel’s thrusts stop immediately and he turns his head to look behind him, while he’s on his knees, balls deep in a female body on all fours. His eyes shut tightly in something you’re not sure how to interpret, dropping his head between his shoulder blades and his palms squeeze the hips of the female body he's holding, until his fingertips go white.
And you’re just standing there, on the threshold of your bedroom, taking in the scene. It’s weird how the mind works under stressful situations. Is the absurdity of the reality that keeps you calm? Is it your brain’s reaction to protect you from collapsing? Are you shutting down right now?
You feel your eyes unable to move around and at the same time you see clearer than ever, as if you’re looking through a wide-angle lens.
You notice all of the stripped clothes, which they don’t seem hastily taken off, the way they pool on various surfaces of the room; they took their time undressing each other.
You notice the crystal tumbler of a half finished liquid, Joel’s whiskey, on his side of the nightstand; they took their time having fun.
You notice the absence of a condom on Joel’s cock as he removes himself from the female hole he was buried deep, all splayed out for him and now you; they took their time before, it seems, there is an intimacy there. This is not a stranger, this is not a first time.
Joel is calm, collected even, as he stands to his full height, grabbing his pants from the floor next to the king sized bed and putting them on. Calculated, steady movements, he looks like he’s trying to stay in control of the situation, diminish it to something else. You pray he doesn’t go down that path.
You look behind him, the female body’s gathering itself into a ball, sitting on your bed now, hands hugging it’s knees, trying to protect its nudity. Your eyes roam her form until they settle on her face. Oh, you know her. She looks -hm, there’s a mosaic of emotions behind her eyes, which are surprisingly bold to look back at you. You see shock, you see fear, you see.. satisfaction?
“Darlin’” Joel’s approaching you, crossing the ridiculously big room, with a steady pace.
His chest is heaving from the effort to regulate his breathing, he’s sweaty, his muscles all bulged from the interrupted fucking, his curls -your curls, fuck, that hurts- damp. He’s so handsome in all his disheveled form. He looks like your Joel.
Imaginary flashes of her fingertips combing through his hair are passing through your mind and you feel your esophagus contracting, a sense of a burning hot liquid moving up to your mouth. You swallow it down.
He reaches to touch your arm, don’t you dare, is all you mutter lowly, still without moving a muscle as if you do, the world will come crushing down. It already did, didn’t you get the memo? Your voice feels foreign to your ears, your tongue feels rough like sandpaper. He obeys.
When does this falling end?
“Baby-”, he tries again, while he steps forward, a condescending tone to his voice, like he’s addressing a toddler.
“Don’t-”, you roll your eyes in your head, god, he smells so good, even with the sweat someone else poured out of his skin, he smells so fucking good. He smells like your Joel. “Don’t come any closer.”
“This-” he exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, as if it’s an unnecessary effort to explain, as if you should understand; of all people, you should know, “this doesn’t mean anything-” his hand gesturing between him and the female body, “she doesn’t mean anything.” You should understand, baby, you should know.
And for the first time her eyes leave yours and land on the face of the deceiver. If this wasn’t happening to you right now, you would take pity on her pained expression. You almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
“Does she know that?” you ask him, your eyes never leaving her tangled form on your bed.
Joel snaps his head to her direction, narrowing his eyes in warning, “Yes, she does.”, his voice comes out strict and final, signaling there’s no room for doubt. He doesn’t sound like your Joel.
“I need you to leave.”, you breathe barely audible, your eyes still on her face; now she doesn’t know where to look, the rug pulled out from under her feet from the man she had inside her minutes ago.
His gaze is cold and indifferent, as if everything is her fault, looking still in her direction. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, the empathetic part of your brain feels for her.
“Get your shit and get the fuck out, what are you waiting for?” he snaps at her.
“Not her, you.” you whisper, it’s impossible to speak louder, all of your energy powers your two standing feet.
He turns to look at you, shocked, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.
“Wh- what are you talking about, sweetheart?” he tries to reason with you, “We need to talk, to-”
“Joel-”, you try again and thank god he’s interrupting you, you don’t have the strength to negotiate right now. Let the dice roll. It’s all fucked, anyway.
“This is my home; I’m not leaving.” he simply states, shaking his head from side to side, staring at you expectantly.
“You’re right. This is your house.” you acknowledge, coming to a painful realization. “Everything is yours; you own everything, don’t you?”, you smile sadly, crouching down to collect you bag.
You turn on your heels and leave the residence formerly known and felt as home, behind you.
Alarm system disabled.
Joe’s hairs are rising on the nape of his neck, when he checks the alarm app notification on his phone, thinking you came back home.
It’s been an awful month without you, without being able to contact you. He knew where you were of course, he could not for the life of him leave that information escape him, but he didn’t pressure you with an unexpected visit, he knew better.
It’s been a month. That’s plenty of time. You took your time and now you’re ready to talk. You have to be, this can’t be the end of this relationship, this marriage.
He presses your number and hits call. Fuck, he’s still blocked. Maybe you forgot to unblock him, it’s ok, it doesn’t mean anything.
He checks the house’s cameras. Shit. That’s not you. What is she doing there? What the fuck is going on? Alright, he’s going back to the house.
He stands on his feet, right in the middle of a meeting with the board and just leaves them. There’s a distant muttering of where does he think he goes, what happened, what’s gotten into him, this is important for the upcoming deal, but he pays no mind to them.
He needs to talk to you.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got everything you need,” Maria facetimes you, showing around your closet via her camera. “I’m loading the suitcase to the car and I’m out of here.”
“Thank you Mar-”
“MARIA?” Joel’s voice travels through the space from the ground floor, up.
“Shit, shit, shit, what am I gonna do?” Maria whispers to you turning the call to voice only.
“Just take the suitcase and leave, it’s ok, I only got personal stuff if that’s what he’s worried about. Let him check if it comes to that.”, you try to calm her down.
“Ok, ok-” Maria grabs the handle of the suitcase and moves to leave the walk-in closet.
“Hey.” Joel comes through the door to the bedroom taking in the scene. He hasn’t set foot in this room for nearly a month now.
“Hey.” Maria sounds pissed on the line.
“What are you doing here? Where's Tommy?”, Joel’s face frowns in question. “Tommy's not my keeper, his my partner. My husband, not that you would know what that means, apparently.” Maria just shrugs and moves to pass him by.
“What are you doing, what’s going on here?” he insists, blocking her way.
“I’m just collecting som-”
“How is she? Is she ok?” his voice softening when he asks about you.
“Oh, please, Joel, how is she? Really?” Maria scoffs at him. “She doesn’t want to see you, Joel or hear from you, that’s how she is.”
“Yeah, I gathered that much, thank you.” he mocks back. “Is she on the phone, can I just talk to her?” he extends his arm to reach for the phone. “Over my dead and cold body.” Maria says, pressing the phone on her chest.
His eyes are raging storms, his nostrils flaring with quiet rage. He takes a deep breath “Can you please ask her if I can talk to her, just for five minutes?”
“Why don’t you call her, Joel?” Maria taunts him, emphasizing the pronunciation of his name.
Joel just stares back at her, unfazed. Maria doesn’t move a muscle, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Well, she did move one muscle.
Joel sighs exasperatedly “She blocked my number.”
“I wonder why that is.” Maria twists the knife, “I guess you have your answer, then.”
“Christ-” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “just- just ask her, please.”
Maria lifts the phone to her ear, rolling her eyes in frustration in the process. “Hey, Joel’s here, he’s ask-”
“Yeah, I heard everything.” you interrupt her, “No, I don’t want to talk to him.” Maria is shaking her head negatively at him as you talk, to pass the message.
Joel’s face goes cold and emotionless. “Well, tell her if she wants her belongings, she needs to come and get them herself.”
It’s been five weeks now and you can’t keep living in your best friend’s and sister in law's clothes. You’re gonna have to go and grab your stuff yourself.
Because it wasn’t enough what you’ve been through, what you’ve heard until you reached that goddamned bedroom door, what you’ve witnessed when you’ve entered, now he’s making you go back there to humiliate you. As you’re checking your calendar for your work schedule to decide on a suitable day, it hits you. You have Joel’s calendar on your phone, too. You always do, it was the only way to have some time together between his visits to work sites and board meetings and bussiness trips and fucking-behind-your-back, apparently.
And then you remember that day where you both stole some time off and decided to spend it cuddling with each other on the couch, talking nonsense and laughing at silly things and hugging and kissing and fucking all night long.
A brainstorm of thoughts run through your head instantly. How could he do that to you? He looked so happy in your arms. Maybe he was right, maybe it was nothing, maybe you should understand, you of all people, you should know. Do you need to do an STD test? How careless could he be? Where there others? Did he ever love you? Do you want to know?
Does it really matter?
You focus again on that day. He’d told you about a big deal coming up, one of the biggest in his career, if not the biggest so far and how important it was to the future of the company.
You searched frantically through his calendar until you found the date of the final meeting, the date where they’d seal the deal. Because there is no way they weren’t. If Joel wanted it so badly, he’d find a way to make it happen.
And you knew your husband, ironic as is sounds now. He was focused to a fault. He wouldn’t even check his phone that day. He’d done it every time since you were together. History indicated that he probably had other reasons, too, for not checking his phone in a timely manner, but you wouldn’t dwell on that. Not right now. Because now you had your chance.
That date was your chance.
Alarm disabled.
Joel’s phone is vibrating momentarily, not that he noticed, it was silent and tacked away in his jacket pocket, the jacket itself hanging on the back of his chair.
Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, he’s chanting in his mind, under all this calm and confident demeanor, he’s sweating inside.
This is it, this is it, this is it, he repeats like a mantra, watching his opposite CEO, Leo Marks, playing with the pen between his fingers. He’s inspecting the contract again and he’s so close, so close to what he wanted. The room is silent, the long table full of seated lawyers and consultants from both sides, holding their breaths in charged expectation.
Joel knows that Marks is going to sign. He knows it. He worked for it. He convinced him, he made his vision clear as day and he lured him in. This is it. He got this.
Then your face appears in his mind. No, not today, he can’t do this today. You will have to wait. Like you always have. Joel shakes his head slightly, as if to remove you from his thoughts. His fingers get itchy, he wishes he could just check on you. Yes, he just want to check on you.
Are you alright? Are you thinking about him? Do you miss him like he does? Do you stay wide awake at night replaying the same scene over and over until you feel physically ill? Do you know that he thinks about you? Did he show you at all that night? Maybe he should have appeared at your friend’s door out of the blue. Maybe you think he doesn’t care. All he was trying to do was give you space. Respect your boundaries. Let you work everything out.
Fuck.
He reaches for his phone. He doesn’t know why. He knows his number is still blocked. He checks every night, when he's too exhausted from the lack of sleep and prays he could listen to your voice, or the soft sound of your breath when you slept next to him. But he fishes it out of his jacket pocket, anyway and then he sees it.
38 minutes ago.
Alarm disabled.
Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled, the only thought repeated in his head. He immediately searches the cameras for you but no movement is recorded right now. Maybe you already left. His heart rate spikes, his temples feel the pressure of his blood pumping violently in his veins. Cold sweat pours out of his body.
He’s squeezing his eyes shut, mentally counting all the places without cameras inside the house. What if you are still in there and he just can’t see you?
Fuck.
Mark’s voice extract him from his thoughts, “Mr. Miller, everything looks in order as we agreed.”
Joel snaps his eyes back to him, slightly irritated, “Of course it does, your legal team already did a thorough check all these months to get us here today.”
“Yes, yes,” Marks laughs entertained, “I just wanted to look it over one more time, I mean, we really are going to…”
What if you’re still there? What if this is his chance? He could always try to reach you after the deal, convince you to hear him out. Yeah, he can do that. He doesn’t need to chase you down. He can wait a little bit longer, can’t he? He can have it all, right? He was the man that had it all.
A mail pops up on his phone, a compliment note from the management of one of both your favorite hotels in Europe, thanking you for choosing their establishments for your stay, once again. Shit. You’re fleeing the fucking country? Are you fucking serious?
“..Mr. Miller?” Marks insists.
“Hm?” his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.
“I said, before we sign, I need you to walk me through it one more time.” he demands like a little child asking for its favorite bedtime story. “I mean, this is the project of my dreams. I need your reassurance that this is as important for you as it is for us, that it’ll be your only focus for the foreseeable future.” he looks at Joel expectantly.
His only focus.
For the foreseeable future.
Fuck.
“HONEY!”. Your blood runs cold in your veins to the sound of his baritone voice. Your hand freezes over the shelf with the t-shirts, not making a sound. You didn’t take that long, why is he here? Why isn’t he in his meeting?
Joel enters the bedroom but you’re not there. Fuck, you hear the curse running softly from his lips. You don’t move, you don’t blink, you don’t breathe.
He moves to leave and check elsewhere but then he stops. You hear soft steps and you see the door of the walk-in closet opening. His wide form blocks the light from the outside, his broad shoulders almost taking up all the space of the frame.
He looks disheveled, his baby blue shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top, his hair a mess, like he kept combing his fingers through them. You don’t dare meet his eyes though. You keep your gaze as far as his chin goes, concentrating on the bare patch there. His sole presence electrifies you like he’s already touched you. Your whole body feels on fire and frozen simultaneously. God, you missed him.
“I was calling for you.”, he breathes out and you can feel his fear pulsing through his body. He’s scared you’re gonna run. That’s why he doesn’t leave his spot, blocking the door.
“I know.”
“Were you hiding from me?” his brows are furrowed in a seemingly pained expression from what your peripheral vision could help you understand.
“No, I just chose not to answer you.”, you lower your head, looking at your feet.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” you say hastily, but he’s waiting for a real answer. You breathe deeply, “It- it felt too domestic, you calling for me, me answering back, like how we were before.” He nods, biting his bottom lip. “What are you doing here, Joel?”
“In our house?” the edges of his lips are slightly turned up, his head tilting to one side.
“No, this is your house as you said yourself.”
“Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean it like that..” he sighs in regret, his head deepening in his shoulder blades in an effort to attract your gaze upwards.
“But you’re right.”
“I built it for you.” his voice soft, like it’s a secret meant to stay that way.
“Hm.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” his brows raise in genuine surprise.
“Nothing, forget it.”
“No, tell me.”
“You first.”
He looks perplexed, he forgot your question.
“What are you doing here, right now, Joel?”
“I got the alarm notification and.. it was the only way I could talk to you, honey..”
“But- your meeting-”
He searches your eyes, although you refuse to look at him, analysing your confused expression and it hits him. He smiles in understanding, nodding his head. “So, you chose today on purpose..”
You don’t respond, you keep looking everywhere but his eyes.
He laughs through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t drop everything to come and see you?”
“I really did.”
He gasps in disbelief, almost offended.
“Baby, look at me, please; look at me..” he pleads with you softly. You close your eyes as if in fear you would obey, your chin trembling from the effort to remain calm.
“Baby, look at me. I want you to look at me, now.” he presses in a more authoritative way. He thought he could order you around? Break you?
“No.” you shake your head.
Joel calls you by your name but before he has a chance to spit another soft command-
“I SAID NO!” you open your eyes, targeting them to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably now. You can see from your periphery the look of shock on his face, because you’ve never yelled before. Ever.
“Why, sweetheart?”, he retreats back to his soft side.
“Because that’s exactly what you want. And you can’t always get what you want, Joel, not anymore.” You can’t hold back your tongue now.
“Jesus Christ,” you grit through your teeth, “what do you want from me, hm?” your eyes keep dancing around his face but never on his eyes. He looks dumbfounded, his lips part slightly but you don’t wait for an answer. “What else do you want? Is this some kind of ego thing? You expected me to shout and break things and hit you and tell you to leave her and come back to me? Because your ego is safe, Joel, if that’s what you worry about. I didn’t leave you, you did that first when you went behind my back. So, you walked out on me and not the other way around. Happy? Ready to go on with your life?” You’re grabbing the shelf where your hand previously rested so hard, trying to steady yourself.
For the first time Joel is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t find the words to defend himself, to convince you about his feelings, to soothe you at the very least. He begins to have a glimpse of how he appears in your eyes right now. How much damage he’s done, even before that night. How much ground he’s lost over time.
“Darlin', I just wa-” he begins softly, almost like walking on eggshells, but your body visibly tenses, you jaw shuts tight, your eyes rolling back in your head.
“Stop, just stop! Stop saying what you want! Stop making this about you! Don’t you see? You keep asking me for what you want! Have you stopped for a second, just a second, to think what I want? What I need? I don’t- I don’t recognize you anymore.”
“I-” he closes his eyes in distress, “I love you.” His last retreat. He’s trying anything that could help him. He doesn’t get it. He can’t. He’s not capable. But he used to be. He was the most empathetic person you knew. What the fuck happened?
Your eyes snap though the open closet door at his admision and on to the perfectly made bed.
His gaze follows yours behind his back and shakes his head once more in regret.
“It really didn’t mean-”
“Joel-” you warn him, “have some self respect and don’t say what I think you’re about to say. At least have the guts to admit exactly what you did, I’d appreciate it more.”
He exhales heavily, you’re not giving him an opening to fix this. You’re hanging onto every word he mutters. Not a single one of them is left unparsed and he's not used to that. He knows that if he does not control his anger right now, it's game over.
Heavy silence is hanging between you, each one lost on their thoughts.
“Do you know when you really lost me, Joel?”, you ask him eventually.
Half an hour ago he would swear he had all the answers, but now? Now he sees he’s in the deep, so he stays quiet, searching your eyes that still won't reach his, for answers.
“You lost me when you humiliated her in front of me.”
His face goes white, shocked, he can’t believe his ears. His mouth opens and closes but he makes no sound, how on earth does he respond to that?
“You still don’t get it, do you?”, you pinch the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. “You valued her enough to endanger our wedding, you valued her enough to bring her to our own house, to our bed, Joel; you valued her enough to fuck her raw, to let her know that you were unhappy with me, before I had a chance to realize it myself-”, Joel interrupts you almost panicked “I’m not un-” and for the first time your eyes pierce his in such an anguish that the words die in his throat. “-and then you just diminished her like she was nothing, just to prove a point to me. While she was naked, vulnerable on our bed. And trust me, this is not me defending her, she is as responsible for this as you, but you’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.”
Now he’s the one averting his eyes from you, looking down on his overpriced shoes, his demeanor defeated, this is not the Joel you know anymore.
“And what was the point, Joel? Hm? What? That she means nothing? Then why were you with her? Why did you choose her? Why did you spend your precious time on nothing, while I had to make an appointment to see you? That’s what you did with me, too? I mean nothing, too? Just a warm hole to fuck when convenient?” he snaps his head back to you, shaking it in denial frantically, his eyes blown wide and red from all the emotional stress you push onto him.
“But I guess I got my answer about a month ago, hm?” It’s one of those moments that epiphanies hit you as you speak uncontrollably, you just can’t stop your mind from running wild, your mouth from spilling bile, your heart from pounding so hard in your chest, your ears start to ring, your grasp on the shelf tightening even more for balance.
“And that tells me a lot about who you really are. It’s not just about the fucking, Joel, Jesus-, -for the brilliant man I know you to be, you’re stumbling through your blindest moment.”, you shake your head in disappointment, tears still running freely down your face, licking your jawline and falling like a waterfall to the carpeted floor. You feel so done, you find it pointless to explain any further.
“I- I don’t know you, Joel, I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did,” you conclude, “maybe you’re right,” you slowly nod to yourself, “and everything is my fault after all.” you whisper, not sure if you want him to hear that part.
He did. “I never said that it was your fault, baby. When did I ever say that?” his face is contorted in pain, “None of this is your fault, none of it, you hear me?” he wants so desperately to cross the fucking room and hold you tight, crush all your pain and insecurities and self hatred under an asphyxiating hug. He also knows that he won't make even two steps before you flee, or step back from him and he can’t for the life of him witness that. Because that’s how much he needs you. He prefers you standing there, where he can see you, where he can have you, even if you wither and die under the enormous trauma he’s putting you through.
“So stupid.. I was- I am so stupid..” you’re repeating to yourself almost deliriously, rubbing your fingers on your forehead.
“This isn’t you, sweetheart, you don’t talk like that, don’t- don’t do that to yourself.” Joel tries to bring you back.
“But this is you, isn’t it, Joel? The real you?” you bite back. “This isn’t me, really? How do you like the new me, Joel? Do you take pride on your creation?” you laugh bitterly at him. “Yeah, how you’d always call me? Polite little thing? Sweetheart?” you’re infuriated now, a rise fighting to explode through you. “How does it feel, Joel? To know you’re responsible for changing someone to their core? To know you had that much power over them?”
Joel’s shaking his head once again in desperation, hot tears spilling from his eyes, god, had he ever cried before? this is not a battle he can win, he sees that now. The damage is too great. What on earth was he thinking?
“Please, please honey, can we just take a breather, sit down and talk about everything?” he pleads with you, a last thread of hope shinning in his red rimmed eyes.
“Take a breather..” you mutter through your teeth, “you mean the breather you took while you were fucking someone else instead of talking to me?”, Joel shuts his eyes in defeat, there’s nothing he can say anymore. “I think you got it backwards, Joel.”
You take a steadying breath and command your legs internally to hold on a little while longer and move forward; clothes, suitcase, life left behind.
“Don’t contact me again, unless is via your legal team.” is the last bullet that hits Joel’s chest, right through his broken heart.
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fandom#joel miller imagine#fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller the last of us#joel the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel smut#infidelity joel miller#joel miller x original character#joel miller x oc#joel miller husband#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel miller unfaithfull#joel miller married#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#tlou joel#joel miller angst
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As much as I love that they did try to rectify the end of Athena Begins a bit, I had to sigh over how they still couldn't help themselves and had Athena tell him to "be a better man than you were before." Which... he was. That was literally the whole point. Dennis regretted what happened with Emmett so much that he threw himself into being the kind of man who helped other kids that were at risk for ending up in that kind of situation. He spent decades helping the community and saving other lives. And Athena still arrested him. Don't get me wrong, I am SO relieved that Dennis lived, and yes I see the cinematic parallel of killing Athena's first husband(-to-be) and saving her current husband from getting shot, but just... man, that last scene in the hospital could've done without that line.
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Some BuckTommy head canons to get you through the next week without an episode:
Buck and Tommy spend the night at each other's place a lot. It's not out of lust (although sex is not off the table), but more out of not wanting to sleep alone.
When they do spend the night with each other, it's not uncommon for one of them to drop off or pick each other up from work. The first time Tommy picked Buck up from work, he was coming off a 24-hour. Buck's exhaustion was setting in and he didn't think anything of it when he kissed Tommy "hello" and took the coffee cup from his hand. Needless to say, he got an earful of teasing from the team.
Tommy let Buck set the pace when they first stated dating. Meaning he let Buck tell him when and what he was ready for. But once they had settled into their relationship some more, Tommy couldn't keep his hands off Buck. He always has to have a hand on his boyfriend's back, arm, shoulder, thigh, holding his hand, even just linking fingers. Just simple, soft touches to keep the two grounded.
Tommy truly noticed how low Buck's self esteem is when he went over to try to help rectify the situation between him and Eddie. When the started dating, Tommy made it his mission to try and boost his boyfriend's self esteem whenever he could. Between sending him little text messages throughout the day and telling him all his favorite little things about his boyfriend. Buck loves every second of it.
Buck says "I love you" first. Buck's leg was flaring up again and this time the pain was particularly bad. Tommy had spent the night at Buck's, and it was a good thing he did because Buck never would've told him otherwise. It was at the end of night, Buck's pain meds had just kicked in and he was feeling a bit loopy. They were laying in bed watching with a movie, though, Buck had been watching Tommy for at least the past 20 minutes. He was drifting in and out of sleep when he said. By the time Tommy reacted, he had passed out for the night. In the morning, Buck woke up to his alarm and a note from Tommy that said "I love you too, Evan. Have a good shift.❤️" To top it off, there was pancakes and bacon in the microwave.
Buck babysitting quickly turned into Buck and Tommy babysitting. Tommy loved watching Buck with Chris, Jee-yun, and Denny. Sometimes it would make him wonder what it would be like when they have their own little family.
i have so many more of these, lemme know if you want to hear more. also come scream in my asks about these ones!
#911 abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911#bucktommy#911 show#tevan#evan x tommy#evan buckley x tommy kinard#buck x tommy#911 headcanons
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Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).
But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.
Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).
Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.
( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)
Gender : GN
Pronouns : None
Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.
TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.
General Headcanon
In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.
But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.
The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.
You are now in Hell.
Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)
Vox didn't like you. Like, really.
He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.
Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.
You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.
So yes, he didn't like you.
He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..
It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !
A violent police officer. This is what you were.
You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.
Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.
Alastor find you entertained.
You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.
He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.
He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.
Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.
When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..
Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.
Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.
Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.
Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP
You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.
But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).
Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.
You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.
Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-
After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.
Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.
After that Vox received a little visit from you..
If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.
Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.
Angel Dust adores you.
Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..
Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.
Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.
Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.
Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.
You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.
Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.
Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.
You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.
You had to play therapist and friend.
Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.
You don't even have a degree in therapy.
Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.
Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-
Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.
You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.
I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.
Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x gn reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel vaggie#vox hazbin hotel#valentino#hazbin hotel velvette#husk#husker#niffty#alastor#angel dust#hazbin hotel adam#Raccoon is writing
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I listened to "Batman: The Lazarus Syndrome" for the second time; it's an audio drama from 1989 and here are some Jason mentions in it that make me want to chew glass:
Barbara: I could try to tap into his computer... it may still have my voice print on file, unless he trashed it when the Joker put me in this chair Gordon: Now Batman may seem a cold-hearted son of a gun, but I don't think he'd ever erase Batgirl from his files. Barbara (whispering): Yeah, I wonder... he's tried hard enough to forget Jason.
//
Dick: Jason's left him a hell of a legacy. First he throws himself into his work with a suicidal intensity, and now he's- he's planning to quit? Alfred: Um, Master Dick... Nobody knows that anything has happened to Robin. You know- I often think back to the sight of you both leaving to go on patrol- Dick: No! Never again! Alfred: He always seemed happier with you... Dick: Things are different now. I can't make this a fairy tale with a happy ending. Even if I came back, would that wipe away the pain of what happened to Jason? I can't change what's happened, and now that I've got my independence, I'm not sure I want to.
//
Bruce: Happiness isn't what I seek. Gotham city is where I belong! Where I'm needed! Maybe Jason was the only one who really understood that. Talia: Jason? The other boy who worked with you? The second Robin? Bruce: He knew Gotham city the way I do. He was a petty thief; he used to hang around here stealing the wheels off cars. On the day I met him, he was trying to boost the tires of mine. He'd been orphaned, like me. But whereas my parents' money shielded me from starvation, he had to live by his wits. I knew if I left him here I'd find myself running him in later on for something more serious... so I took him back with me, gave him a home, trained him the way I trained Dick Grayson... seemed logical. Nobody had guessed the original Batman-Robin team split up. Once Dick left to go to college, we drifted apart. Then Jason came along. He was young, fit, eager to learn... and apt student. For a while it was as if I'd never been without a Robin. But there were undercurrents; he had a dangerous amount of aggression to work off, he became moody, resentful, reckless! I began to realize I'd made a mistake. (flashback) Alfred: I've noticed some disquieting things about Master Jason myself. The lad never mentions his parents, yet I've come across him crying over his old photographs. Being your partner is hardly the best situation for a teenager still adjusting to such a loss. Bruce: Then I must try and rectify the situation. Jason's going off active duty immediately. Jason: And I don't have a word to say about it, huh? Bruce: How long have you been hiding there, Jason? Jason: You can't be serious about this! Bruce: I am. You've got a lot of anger and pain inside of you. Jason: I can handle it. Bruce: We can work this out. Jason: You want to talk? Talk to Alfred. (end flashback) Talia: The poor child... and both parents long dead... Bruce: So I thought. But then Jason discovered that his late father had remarried. His real mother was still alive. He used the computer to track her down, and set off after her, alone. He never thought she might be involved with the Joker; never guessed it might be a trap. By the time I got to him, I'd lost him. He was beaten half to death and then blown up trying to save his mother's life. Talia: You mustn't blame yourself. Bruce: He'd still be alive to day if I'd left him where I found him! In Crime Alley... Talia: How can you say that? You saved his life, my love. You delivered him. Bruce: I delivered him- right into the hands of the Joker. I've got to pay for that.
enjoy :)))
#talking to the void#dc#batman: the lazarus syndrome#jason todd#bruce wayne#barbara gordon#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#talia al ghul#favourites: the walking dead
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Behind the Scenes (04/05)
Behind the Acceptance
pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader
summary: there are new changes for you and Aemond, he wants to rectify himself for past mistakes and you get used to your new life with the father of your son present.
word counter: 10.2K (consider it as a christmas gift, love you all❤)
previous part • next part • series masterlist
I'M SO SORRY!
i know the wait has been too much and you don't know how sorry i am. i experienced stress during my last week of uni before leaving for vacation and i got a new job, which consumes my time and i couldn't edit or do any writing, but i managed to find small times to write and that's why it's taken me so long. i appreciate your understanding, really🥺
I would like to wish you all merry christmas and a happy new year, my best wishes to all of you and also to your families, have a great time and God bless you all beautiful people, you are amazing and truly thank you for so much🥰
now yes, enjoy!
warnings: aemond dad melting our hearts and that's it:)
When Aemond told you to please go back to work and stop running away so that the two of you could face all this together, you didn't quite understand what he meant by 'go back to work'.
However, the next morning after waking up and starting to prepare breakfast for Aenar, you received an unexpected call that answered your question.
It's an unknown number so you accept the call with some caution.
"Y/N speaking? This is Michelle Watson, from the Warner Bros studio production department," she says and your heart jumps.
"Hello?"
You speak on the other end of the line, holding your phone to your ear.
It's HBO, who Aemond is working with right now and where you left your job thrown after unexpectedly meeting him again.
Nerves soon set in and you hold your breath, already feeling ashamed for leaving the shooting set like that without saying anything to anyone and creating a complete circus the moment Aemond called your name in the trailer in front of everyone.
"Yes, she speaks," you reply nervously.
"We want to inform you that despite what has happened, we understand it and the circumstances that led you to leave unexpectedly during your working hours," she tells you in a soft and formal voice, "And we will expect you tomorrow without any problem to resume work."
You frown completely, hesitate a little and blink several times in disbelief, not quite understanding.
"I'm sorry… what do you mean by resuming work?" you ask, barely able to contain your own surprise and disbelief.
"Some conversations took place," she explains, "Mr. Targaryen was quite insistent on convincing the production team to reconsider your situation. He advocated on your behalf, explained the circumstances and your entire track record as an excellent professional makeup artist so that you could continue to work with us."
With your lips parted and your eyes wide open, you are speechless for a moment, staring at a spot in your living room with your heart pounding, definitely not expecting to hear any of this after everything that has happened on this day.
You didn't even expect Aemond to decide to do this for you after everything that happened with him and Criston.
And just when you were starting to worry about how you were going to pay the rent for this apartment and even started to make a schedule in your mind to go get a job somewhere else tomorrow or even today.
"So if there's no problem and everything is fine with you, we'll expect you tomorrow at 7:00 A.M."
Completely speechless.
You can't even control your own heart rate.
But in spite of that, you can't help but feel a huge relief run through your entire body, where you still feel overwhelmed by the generosity and gesture of trust they are offering you, but you definitely feel completely relieved and grateful.
"Yes, yes, of course," you hasten to say, trying to control your emotions, "I'll be there. Thank you so much."
They give you a few more details, you ask few more questions and finally end the call, which leaves you with mixed emotions as you silently contemplate that you still have this new possibility of a better life for you and Aenar.
But you also think about Aemond.
And you will also wait to see how Aemond's integration into your son's little life will be now.
You really appreciate this gesture, you know that only he can do something like this with his influence and connections.
And in fact it gives you the confidence that he will keep his word that no one else will interfere in your and Aenar's life, only the two of you will make the decisions.
Arriving at the recording set, you leave Aenar in the nursery and then you enter the corridors of the whole big production, which is buzzing with its usual atmosphere with its twinkling lights, technical equipment with the huge cameras, microphones and all the sets ready.
You honestly feel nervous knowing that tomorrow you and Aemond will be working in the same place again, like in the old days.
But that's why you try to be as prepared as possible and you won't let all kinds of personal matters interfere with your work.
And once you arrive, you take a moment, take a deep breath and push open the door, where that familiar atmosphere once again envelops you.
You don't even know why but your heart is pounding as you walk down the halls and every step leads you to your area, the makeup and wardrobe trailer.
You assume it's out of shame after what happened yesterday.
Unfortunately your entrance doesn't go unnoticed and as you close the door behind you as you walk just a little into the trailer, some curious faces turn to see you, including Jess, who stops her usual routine and rushes over to you, her eyes wide with surprise.
You hug her back gently, feeling relieved and less tense by the warm welcome from Jess who, even though the two of you don't know each other very well, she actually seems like a very nice person and her personality shows you that.
"Ah Y/N, what a relief to see you again!"
She exclaims with her tone full of joy.
"God, I thought you wouldn't come back," she says as she hugs you excitedly, providing you with some comfort.
"I'm so sorry about yesterday," you say with a regretful gesture and you both break the hug, "I shouldn't have left like that and you don't know how embarrassed I feel. I'm really sorry."
"Oh no, don't worry about it," she assures you instantly, making a nonchalant gesture, "That's all in the past. The important thing is that you're back and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," she comforts you with a small smile, "We have a lot of work to do today and we need to get you up to speed right away."
Jess, full of energy, ushers you further into the trailer while you greet your other co-workers. Then she explains the day's itinerary precisely, pointing out schedules, wardrobe changes and other important details.
All the while you nod, thanking her for her guidance and trying to keep up. In the midst of all the preparations, the huge door opens again and Aemond is now the one who makes his presence known.
Your gaze meets his and you see the obvious and unexpected surprise in his eyes at seeing you again, but there's not much reaction from either of you as instantly the makeup artists call him over and guide him to start prepping him for today's filming scenes.
And Jess also takes your arm, guiding you to the back of the trailer where the dressing rooms are located explaining what you will be doing, forcing you to look away from him.
And you can only feel Aemond's gaze on you until he loses sight of you.
Jess continues to explain to you, but you can't help but think and wonder certain things, like if everyone here, even Jess, knows about you and Aemond... what you once were and that you have a child together.
The behavior of both of you yesterday was very obvious, that's what you would think if you were an expectant one, so surely there must be some speculation.
And at that moment you remind yourself that your priority right now is your work and that the personal should be kept out of your work environment, so you shouldn't even think about it.
Finally you focus on following Jess's directions, putting aside distractions and preparing for the day.
Jess leaves you alone to take care of her own work and you start with yours, where you spend about an hour still in the back of the trailer, where you check and prepare the costumes that already have to be ready for the scenes that will be filmed soon.
When in the middle of everything, you hear some footsteps approaching behind you and thinking it must be one of the other actors or one of your co-workers, you turn around and the first thing you notice is that silver hair.
Aemond enters this section of the trailer a little unsure, without saying anything, while you also watch him without saying anything.
He is ready to record his scenes with that scar on the left side of his face that his character has and he only lacks the costume.
Until finally he speaks first.
You knew that having a conversation with him again would happen soon, so you're not surprised.
But for a moment there is a tense silence and a slight nervousness and insecurity on the part of both of them, where a clash of emotions is reflected in each other's gazes.
"Hey," he says in a soft, low voice, taking a couple of steps towards you.
You try to smile a little in his direction, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.
"Hey," you wave back.
There is an awkward pause before Aemond again takes the initiative, taking a few cautious and slow steps towards you.
You bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment, as he puts a hand to the back of his neck and looks so insecure and nervous standing there, surprising you a bit, as that behavior in him is unusual.
He usually always has that confident attitude in everything he says and does.
"I'm glad you're back," he admits to you, his low tone full of sincerity, "It's good to see you around again."
His words and that friendly gesture take you a bit by surprise, and although you still feel overwhelmed by the unexpected situation, you appreciate the way he is leading in handling all of this to start working together for Aenar's well-being, leaving past tensions behind.
"Thank you," you reply, feeling that sense of relief in your chest again, "Oh, hum… and thank you for talking to production so I could come back," you say a little shyly but gratefully, "You didn't have to."
He lets out a scoff in a nonchalant and also absurd gesture, frowning slightly his nose and forehead.
"Please, it was the least I could do," he tells you softly and with a warm tone, "Besides, it was nothing. I was just afraid you'd decide not to come back."
You hum in understanding.
"I thought about that," you confess to him, lowering your gaze for a moment, "But things were going to be easier for both of us with Aenar if I came back here," you explain, "Still, it was a very kind gesture of you."
Aemond nods, his gaze conveying a mixture of emotions that reflect both relief to see you back here, understanding, and also regret for the past that still haunts him. But he doesn't let those thoughts invade him too much at that moment.
Again there is silence in between for a few seconds, when he speaks again.
"How is Aenar?" he asks in a voice charged with a mixture of happiness, nostalgia and longing for his son.
"He's fine," you say in a soft voice, "He's in the studio nursery. Mary takes very good care of him," you add, wanting to reassure him that his son is being properly cared for.
He nods slowly, humming in response, trying to hide the intensity of his emotions in his gaze.
"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, vulnerability in his tone and gaze.
The air between the two of you still lingers, charged with emotions that neither of you dares to express openly. However, taking advantage of the conversation, Aemond decides to propose something.
He just met him yesterday and can't wait to see him again, to be in his company.
Yesterday's hours were simply not enough. And knowing that his son is well brings him relief and a feeling he hasn't experienced before since he found out he is a father.
"If you want, I can pay for a trusted babysitter for him," he offers and this gets your full attention, "I'm just saying… so you don't always have to bring him with you to work," he says with a hesitation, his tone betraying his insecurity about his proposal.
You remain silent for a moment, not knowing what exactly to say, in fact processing the unexpected offer. And Aemond can't help but feel even more unnerved by your silence.
"I-I… I don't know," you murmur, hesitant.
This nursery in the set is at least in the same place as you and that gives you relief that whatever happens, you can rush to him right away.
The idea of a babysitter strikes you as a mixture of relief and concern.
In the morning you'd have more time getting ready to come to work and it wouldn't be as much of a burden on you, yet you've never left someone to take care of Aenar while you're away.
But leaving him at home and coming all the way here to work, that causes you hesitation, besides the fact that you have to know the person who will take care of your child perfectly, as well as have confidence in her, above all.
"Only if that makes you feel more comfortable," Aemond adds softly, "But if that's not what you want, that's fine."
You bite your lips, feeling uneasy at the thought of someone else caring for your son and having him away when you're working.
"And you know someone who might be trustworthy?" you ask attentively and still with hesitation in your gaze.
"Yes," he tells you immediately, softly, "Rhaenyra has an army of babysitters to take care of my younger nephews. I can ask her for help with that and I know she'll say yes," he assures you.
"And they are professional babysitters?"
"Yeah, yeah, Nyra is also very careful with the selection and the babysitters she has hired have years of experience and so far several of them have worked with her for a few years now."
And after a moment's reflection, you agree.
And as convincing as the information is, still a mixture of worry and resignation envelopes your body.
But you knew that sooner or later you would have to face the situation of balancing your job with the responsibility of caring for your little one, accepting the idea that you won't always be able to have him with you.
"All right," you nod to him, "But I'd like to do some interviews first."
"Yeah, of course. I'll take care of that, don't worry," he says softly, nodding to you and you nod back.
"Thank you, Aemond."
"You don't have to thank me, Y/N, it's for our son. And if he or you need anything, please just let me know."
Seeing Aemond so willing to be a present father and his desire to be involved in his son's life, to some extent relieves you and surprises you a little, clearly because of what happened at first when you found out you were pregnant.
But so far… he has really shown you that he wants to be present and without having Criston and all his team around anymore.
The slight tension in the air is felt again as you and he continue to navigate the terrain of this new dynamic, which feels a little weird and you feel very nervous, though you don't even know why, while he at all times seems unsure.
And in an attempt to diffuse the tension, now you're the one who speaks first.
"Okay," you nod, "And if you…" you try to say a little nervously and with some caution and insecurity, "If you want to go see Aenar at the nursery or even at the apartment, you can," you assure him with a soft tone, "I never said you couldn't visit him and I don't plan to take that right away from you."
Vulnerability is reflected both in your words and in Aemond's expression, who with his soft face and with his gaze full of various emotions, places a small gentle smile on his lips.
"I'd love that."
Your words mean more to him than you probably realize. That sincere gesture of openness on your part, Aemond deeply appreciates.
Just as he appreciates that the conversation has reached a level of understanding and cooperation that neither of you had anticipated, but that you definitely appreciate. It doesn't end there yet, though.
"Can I ask you something?"
You nod, with no problem.
"Sure."
"What will you be leaving work on when your shift is over with Aenar?" he tells you interested and attentive.
"Um… well, yesterday I took the bus," you explain, considering that just yesterday was supposedly your first day, "And I had already planned that if I finished late, I'd take an Uber. Like now in the morning I was running a little late and took an Uber," you reply, trying to explain your transportation routine.
In fact there is nothing wrong with moving this way, many people do it, besides you don't have many options.
But that's what Aemond doesn't want, he wants to make your life a little easier, especially since Aenar lives with you and he doesn't want to risk something bad happening to both of you one day with public transport.
"Well, if you want, I can take the two of you," he also offers without hesitation, "Or if it seems too much, I can ask my driver to pick you up and take you wherever you need to go, without problem," he assures you, "I just don't want you to move that way with Aenar or by yourself."
This new unexpected offer from Aemond also surprises you, that you even think about turning him down, telling him it's not necessary.
Mostly you see it from Aenar's safety side.
But his concern is genuine and also you know that then moving you will start to be a problem.
You know you can't afford Uber every day, the fares aren't exactly cheap and there are other needs you have to take care of, besides taking the bus late could be dangerous.
"Well…" you look at him hesitantly and a little embarrassed, "You won't have a problem with that?"
"No, of course not," he answers you instantly.
You nod in his direction, grateful for his consideration.
"Yes, it's fine and seriously thank you for this too," you can't help but say, "Sometimes transport is complicated."
"Don't worry, it's fine."
He is about to say something else when a third voice interrupts him, entering the same space as you.
"Yeah, I know, sorry, I'm already on it," he assures her instantly.
"Aemond, are you ready now?"
Enters one of your co-workers, watching him intently and instantly with concern at the sight of him still in his civilian clothes.
"For God's sake, why aren't you dressed yet? Your scene is going to shoot in less than fifteen minutes!"
"I'll be back in ten minutes. Hurry up, please," the worried girl says and hurries away.
You instantly at that moment decide that the two of you can talk later and hand him his clothes from the scene he'll be shooting soon and he thanks you, heading for one of the small dressing rooms quickly.
When he finishes putting on his clothes, you quickly help him look perfect for filming the scene.
"I'll be seeing you," he tells you before leaving and you nod.
"Sure."
And from that moment on, over the next few days, everything changes as much for Aemond as it does for you.
He kept his word to drive you and Aenar back home every time your shift ended. And if he was still filming scenes, he would send his driver to take you instead of him, also to bring you in the mornings.
The relationship is cordial and collaborative and while there is no romantic reconciliation involved, there is a determination to build a more stable and secure future for Aenar, as well as prioritizing his well-being above all else.
At work, too, the dynamic between the two of you changes completely. Communication is professional, as it should be, but in every interaction there is a complicity that seems to have evolved.
There is a quiet understanding, a new focus on cooperation and mutual respect that is taking shape.
Also Aemond kept his word to hire a fully trusted babysitter and while he took care of that, sometimes you found him in the nursery with Aenar, keeping him company and playing with him.
At first this caused you some noise and also confusion, since Aemond is under the public eye spending quality time with his son and doesn't bother to hide it, so you wondered if already everyone working here, also Aemond's co-workers, knows that he has a son with you.
Again that sight couldn't help but make you smile with a certain nostalgic look, watching the interaction of those two silver-haired heads in their own world.
But it made you feel happy to see your little boy laughing and playing with his father.
And if so, you doubt that it will come out soon, because working in this production of whatever position, there is a confidentiality contract for everything, even for the personal life of the actors.
But when the shooting of this show is over, everyone is probably going to know about it. Although it seems that Aemond doesn't even think about it and doesn't really care.
So you decide not to ask him anything about it and how Criston and his whole team is going to take it.
You honestly don't know what Aemond has done with him, what they have talked about and what exactly happened for him to leave you and Aenar alone.
And you don't want to know. You've had enough of him and everything he did to you. And fortunately you live in peace and feel safe to have Aemond on your side this time.
And before you can say anything, Aemond steps forward with a soft little smile.
When one day on your day off you find yourself making dinner while Aenar watches his favorite cartoon in the living room and you supervise him occasionally from where you are, there's a knock at the door.
You're traumatized with the thought that maybe it's Criston and something bad is going to happen, but when you open the door you find Aemond with a woman by his side.
"Hey."
"Hi," you try to smile, a little confused.
"Are you busy? I-I didn't know and thought I'd just come over," he says, "And I'd let you know but I don't have your number or-or something."
"No, no, it's fine, I'm just making dinner," you hasten to say.
"I came because I wanted to introduce you to Elinda Massey," he tells you, pointing to the woman next to him and she looks at you with a warm smile, "One of the babysitters Rhaenyra recommended to me to take care of Aenar."
"Oh," you nod, now understanding.
You watch Elinda and she radiates warmth and assurance in her gaze, instantly feeling comfortable with her presence.
"It's nice to meet you, Elinda," you say with a small smile, extending your hand to her.
"Same to you, Y/N," she replies, shaking his hand with yours, "Aemond has told me so much about you and Aenar. I'm very excited to meet him as well."
Aemond beside her nods, his expression calm.
"Elinda is professional and very experienced. I wanted to introduce you to her and thought maybe we could do a little interview together, just to get to know her and see how she gets along with Aenar."
You instantly nod again.
"Oh yeah, yeah, sure, come on in," you step aside, allowing them to pass, "Aenar is watching his favorite cartoon," you say as you close the door behind you.
Aemond instantly walks towards him, making a sound of surprise, catching his attention and Aenar instantly notices him, smiling big at the sight of him, his huge blue eyes lighting up and reaching out his little arms towards him.
Both you and Aemond know Elinda better and you realize that she is a woman who has all the necessary experience and training. Besides the fact that when she approaches Aenar, he instantly laughs and plays with her.
Aemond laughs and takes him in his arms, starting to leave a bunch of kisses on his huge chubby cheeks, making him laugh as he holds him against his chest and speaks to him in a honeyed tone.
And you again can't help but smile as you watch the scene.
There is still that feeling of worry in you knowing that you will have to leave Aenar in someone else's care.
But Elinda shows you so much in so few hours, she tells you about her experience, shows you letters of recommendation, first aid certificates, as well as other care and Aenar has fun with her.
Aemond stays a few more moments in Aenar's company, playing games and watching the cartoons he likes, while you finish dinner and cleaning the kitchen.
The three of you establish a work schedule for her, as well as you tell her some recommendations and observations regarding Aenar.
And once everything is ready and clarified, she leaves and Aemond tells you that he has already taken care of all the payment details with her.
Every now and then you hear how Aemond asks him questions in a honeyed tone and repeats the same expressions he does when he sees his favorite character on TV, and then both start laughing.
Those sounds, the sound of your son's laughter and also Aemond's expressions, unconsciously make you smile and you watch from the kitchen as Aemond makes funny gestures or faces to make him laugh and attacks him with a lot of kisses all over his face or tickles.
Then you walk him to the door once he is ready to leave.
And there the two of them make themselves comfortable on the couch, eventually Aenar falls asleep on Aemond's lap, his back and head against his chest. He cautiously gets up holding him gently and puts him to sleep, while you thank him.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot," he says stopping in front of the door and turns to you, "This is for you."
You see him take his wallet from his back pocket and inside it, he pulls out what appears to be a black card and holds it out to you. This catches your attention and also confuses you, taking the card with that confusion, not understanding.
And only when you take a good look at it in your hands do you realize that it is a bank card.
"It's yours."
He says and you frown more, then raise your gaze to him asking for an explanation.
"I can only send money to it, I don't have direct access. You'll get the PIN from the bank, tomorrow after the shoot, I'll take you to activate it," he tells you, "You know, it's in case you need money to buy something for Aenar or for you, whatever you need."
Then when you fully understand the explanation and the purpose of this, you start to panic.
"Aemond—
You try to say feeling the lump in your throat and your heart starting to pound.
"I know I didn't tell you about this, but please, I want to do it," he interrupts you with a pleading tone so you won't reject him or reproach him about it, "Besides, this is necessary. Sometimes I will have to travel to other cities for shootings or events and I won't be able to see you or him and I want to make sure you don't lack anything. So just accept it, please."
"But—
"Please," he insists.
This really seems too much to you and you have an idea of the amount of money the card must already have. And no… in spite of everything, you don't want to accept this and feel that you are taking advantage of him.
You watch him still with hesitation and worry on your face, tension hanging in the air as you and he stand in complete silence, saying nothing for a few seconds.
You look back down at the card in your hands and Aemond follows your gaze, both of you standing face to face.
And it just seems that Aemond reads your thoughts by the hesitation and insecurity on your face.
"If you don't want to use it to also buy things for yourself, use it just to buy Aenar whatever he needs," he tells you softly, "After all, I was going to do this sooner or later, wasn't I? It's my responsibility to make sure he doesn't lack anything and that's what I'm going to do."
You let out a long breath, beginning to feel less of the weight of the luxurious and clearly exclusive black card in your hands, with his words beginning to soften your chest at the mention of Aenar.
"Fine," you mutter finally, letting out a sigh and raising your gaze to him, "B-but I'll only use it for things that Ae-
This gesture from Aemond is a clear sign of concern and responsibility he feels towards you and his son. And you truly feel that genuine desire that he wants to contribute for the welfare of both of you.
You try to clarify but he quickly speaks up.
"Yeah, okay," he nods at you, "Don't worry. Just… use it."
You nod again.
"Thank you, Aemond."
A slight flicker of concern appears in his gaze and he quickly tries to be able to struggle to find the right words to be able to explain himself so you don't misunderstand him.
"I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to—
"No, no, I don't think so," you tell him softly, with understanding, "This…" you look back down at the card in your hands and let out a sigh, "This is actually necessary and very helpful…. you really don't know how much I appreciated it."
He nods, his expression relieving a bit as he sees your behavior and also as you accept his support.
"Easy, it's okay," he assures you in a soft murmur.
"Also…" he starts to say with some nervousness but definitely more confident, "I wanted to ask you if you have social security for Aenar and you," he says with a serene expression, looking directly at you.
Again silence settles between the two of you but the air is different, calmer and less tense, feeling the mutual understanding.
And Aemond, after the two of you say nothing for another long few seconds, thinks it best to talk at this point about another plan he has in mind.
This also immediately catches your attention and you watch him warily, tilting your head to one side and starting to get an incredulous look on your face.
"You're not seriously thinking that—
"Y/N, please," he interrupts you, "This is no problem for me, really," he insists, "I just need to know."
"But—
"This is also important and I can pay for it."
"But it's a lot of money and I don't think—
"Do you really think I'll let you and Aenar go through life without being covered?" he asks you incredulously, "I can handle this. I really can."
His words continue to reflect that genuine commitment and you, despite your concern, feel something warm invade your chest, especially the gentle and willing way he is looking at you.
After all that has happened, seeing Aemond so determined to contribute to your son's well-being gives you a new hope and opportunity for Aenar's future.
The costs are too much, nothing you could really afford, not even for Aenar, since your salary was not much and had to cover other needs. You couldn't even afford it on your current salary.
You have always worked very hard to try to give Aenar everything he needs. Among them, paying for a social insurance for him, in case of anything.
But you could never afford it.
And that suddenly Aemond is offering it to you so easily, clearly because he can afford it, you feel somewhat overwhelmed and also feel that it is too much.
"And you're completely—
"Yes, I am," he interrupts you again, being very clear and honest with you, "This won't be any trouble, really," he assures you.
You want to tell him thank you, but the words get stuck in your throat. However, Aemond sees the gratitude is visible in your gaze, along with your concern and how you find yourself overthinking it.
So he just gives you a look of understanding and total reassurance.
"I'll be leaving. You need to rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
You let out a long breath, bite your lips and nod in his direction.
"Okay."
"Good night," he says softly as he opens the apartment door again.
"Good night. Drive safe."
Lately the days have been more… peaceful.
But as the days progressed, you realized that it was useless to feel that way because when you returned to the apartment, everything was absolutely fine. And also everything is easier when you transport yourself with Aemond's help or with the help of his driver.
Having Elinda as a babysitter, your mornings are easier and she does an excellent job with Aenar, so you have nothing to worry about.
At first you would leave home feeling horrible and your whole body tense, always alert to your phone and exaggeratedly paranoid.
Aemond also one day told you the same thing, that lately things have been quiet, even the recordings have not been heavy for him compared to other days or other jobs.
And for the same reason that he is busy filming, he hasn't attended any events or interviews, that happens rather after he finishes filming a new show or movie and there is still time left for that.
Aemond drives in silence and the soft background music on low volume fills the entire interior of the car while you watch the city through the windows and Aenar sleeps secured in one of the back seats.
So on this one day and for one occasion only, Elinda had an important commitment that she couldn't postpone, so she didn't show up for work and you didn't have any problem, since you can bring Aenar to the nursery on the set.
And now it is Aemond who is driving them home after your shift ended almost at the same time he finished filming his scenes.
He and you haven't talked much during the whole drive, only about work, but even so the silence is comfortable and you can't wait to get home to cook a nice dinner.
The cityscape soon transforms into familiar and somewhat… careless streets, as you approach to your apartment.
He parks in front of your building and watches you.
You know this isn't a luxurious area and there's a lot of detail to look at, but it's what you can afford right now.
And that's just what Aemond thinks as he looks around the neighborhood, hating to leave you and Aenar here when he can get you a much better place. But he knows you'll say no.
"Will you stay here any longer?" he asks you softly, "I mean, will you continue to pay rent?"
"For now yes," you nod to him, "I'm saving up to move to a better place, to an apartment in a different area and that's close to work," you let him know, "It's just taking time because of my paycheck."
Aemond stares at you intently for a moment, thinking and pondering your words, with a thoughtful look on his face, while you make sure you have all your belongings with you before getting out of the car and carrying Aenar.
And just as he is about to speak, a familiar sound interrupts him and his son's crying is heard throughout the car.
You follow him too with all your things in hand, walking over to both of them.
You quickly turn to him to attend to him, trying to calm him down, while Aemond reacts and quickly gets out of the car to open the door to the back seats.
It takes him a little while to unfasten the seat belts, but once he's finished he takes him in his arms and whispers comforting words in his ear to make him stop crying.
"Shh, my little one," Aemond whispers, holding him against his chest and stroking his silver hair, "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he murmurs, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead.
You move to his side and run one of your hands over his wet cheeks, watching you for a moment with teary blue eyes only to close them tightly and continue crying.
"Either he wants to sleep in his room or he's hungry," you say, stroking his face to try to calm him as well.
"He didn't eat?" he asks you attentively.
"Yes, Mary said yes."
"Then he wants to sleep," he says, trying to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, "Come on upstairs, I'll take him," he tells you and you nod.
All the while Aemond tries to comfort him until they reach the door of your apartment, but when he lays him down in his crib, Aenar cries more and he carefully holds him in his arms again, trying to soothe him while you quickly stop in the kitchen and prepare a baby bottle, hoping it will help.
And when you hand it to Aemond, he stands gently pacing around the room holding Aenar with one arm while the other hand holds the baby ottle for him against his mouth, hoping it will soothe him and he will fall asleep.
You take the bottle and Aemond carefully lays him down to sleep in his crib, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead to finally let him rest.
Aenar eventually calms down as he drinks from the baby bottle and watches with his blue eyes Aemond above him, who is still gently walking him around the room.
And little by little, wrapped in the safety of Aemond's arms, he falls asleep.
He sits up and turns to you, where you both look at each other without saying anything for a moment, sharing a silent connection.
"Thank you," you whisper to him.
"Don't worry," he says back to you in the same way.
Together you leave Aenar's room without a sound and gently close the door.
That night Aemond drives to his apartment with a new thought in mind, one of which is to always provide a better life for you and Aenar.
That's why, without telling you anything and taking advantage of the fact that it's your day off, he manages to leave the recording set early, he tells you to accompany him to the mall to buy new clothes for Aenar and you accept without thinking about anything else.
During the ride, so far you haven't questioned him about anything and that relieves him, but when you finally pay attention to the streets he is driving through, that's when your confusion appears and Aemond is thankful that you are about to arrive at the real place he wants to take you.
"I don't think there's a shopping mall around here, Aemond," you tell him confused, watching the streets carefully.
You realize that he is actually driving through a private residential neighborhood, with the streets lined with luxurious homes or rather mansions that would catch anyone's attention and you are clearly no exception.
And remembering your locations, you can tell that this neighborhood belongs to the Visenya Hill area, the most exclusive and prestigious area of King's Landing.
"Aemond, where are we going?" you look at him completely confused and questioning.
"I want to show you something," he tells you without giving you any more detail, generating more confusion and despair in you.
"But you said we were going to the mall."
"I know, but I lied to you," he says with some regret and you frown, "If I told you I wanted to show you a house where you can live with Aenar, you wouldn't have come."
"What?"
You inquire in your completely incredulous, serious and questioning voice, watching him with your eyes wide open.
"Surely you're joking," you tell him absurdly, shaking in his direction and watching him completely intently and seriously, really wanting to believe this is a joke.
"No, I'm not," he says letting out a small laugh, watching you for a moment to turn his gaze back to the road.
"Aemond," you start trying to warn him, serious.
"We're here," he announces out of nowhere, alerting you more fully.
You watch with your lips parted and completely attentive at all the windows, as the car comes to a stop in front of an impressive house, whose high ceilings and elegant white columns stand out in the neighborhood.
The front garden with the green lawn, a beautiful fountain and flowering bushes only make it stand out more, besides the elegant entrance, its huge windows and the dimension of the whole house that makes you continue to stare at everything with your mouth open.
In comparison, Aemond looks at the house with a hopeful expression and feeling genuinely happy and excited. But at the same time, he is worried about your attitude and what you will tell him about all this.
At first you refuse to get out of the car, still incredulous and surprised, telling him this is crazy, but Aemond makes you get out and also gets Aenar down from the back seats, instantly on this rare occasion preferring your arms instead of his father's.
"Aemond," you try to say, worried and still unable to believe it.
"Easy. Come," he tells you completely unconcerned, leading you to the entrance of the house.
You observe everything, unable to help yourself, as there is even furniture and everything looks too expensive but too beautiful at the same time.
You watch as he holds the fucking key in his hand and opens the beautiful, gigantic door for you, without giving you a chance to say anything else.
And as you enter, the entire interior of the house spreads out in front of you, illuminated by the daylight filtering through the windows and highlighting every majestic detail of the property.
The simple entrance is large with a crystal chandelier above you hanging from the high ceiling, the living room is spacious and there is also a small decorative fountain. Further on there is another living room that you can observe from the spacious and eye-catching kitchen.
And the entire upstairs also completely grabs your attention, having three huge bedrooms, the master bedroom being the largest of them all, each with its own bathroom and closet.
The bathroom down here is ridiculously large for a bathroom. The pantry is also a ridiculously large room for a pantry.
The garden is lovely and has a swimming pool which, according to Aemond, can be automatically closed off for Aenar's security. There is a laundry and drying room as well.
"It's perfect, don't you think?"
Aemond tells you slightly excited as you walk down the stairs behind him, with Aenar in your arms and who also looks at everything around him with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Work is nearby, my apartment is nearby and Elinda has come to this area to work before, so it won't be a problem," he tells you with that little smile, turning to you, looking with that gleam of hope compared to you.
He clearly expects the same reaction from you and even having already seen the house, you let out a sigh and look at him with a serious and confused expression.
"Aemond, what do you think you're doing?"
"Well, it's for you," he tells you, pointing to everything around him, still not seeing how much this is costing you, "It's perfect for you and Aenar. And a chance for him to live and grow up in a nice, spacious, safe place."
You are speechless for a moment, feeling that heaviness in your chest and your heart pounding as you press your lips together and briefly observe everything around you again.
"Everything will be taken care of by me, you won't have to worry about anything," he assures you softly, "Aenar's room is big, the kitchen is big, there are two living rooms and..." he shrugs, "Like I told you, everything is close by."
"Tell me you haven't already bought all this," you say slightly concerned.
And then all emotion from Aemond slowly fades.
"But why? What is it that—
"Aemond, this is too much," you interrupt him incredulously, shock in your eyes, "How do you think I'm just going to accept this just like that?"
He steps closer, with the slight concern in his gaze, trying to convey calm, but his eye reflects the urgency of his purpose.
"Y/N, please. I only want what's best for you and Aenar. Besides, you said you're moving soon and��
"Yes but to an apartment, not a house that costs millions of dollars," you tell him absurdly.
"Yes, I know, but—" he bites his lips, nervous, "I wanted to do this. I wanted to give this to you and Aenar," he says insistent, "A safe place in a quiet neighborhood, where you can also have your space without having to worry anymore."
You shake your head.
"But—
"Look, just..." he tries to find the right words, trying to work on your willing attitude for not accepting this, "Consider it, yes?" he insist, "You don't have to make a decision right now, for now I just wanted to show you around, nothing more," he says calmly, though you know that behind that calmness is an obvious longing.
"But it's just that this is too much and... no," you look at him with slight concern, "I don't need to consider it because no matter how much I think about it, my answer is no."
"Aemond, this..." you begin to say with restrained sadness, hesitating, "This won't change the past. This won't make it so I can forgive you," you tell him resignedly, "This isn't about me and Aenar, it's about Aenar nothing else and her well being," you tell him in a broken voice, "But this... this house... it's too much."
"Y/N..." he says, taking a couple more steps towards you, wary, "Two years ago, I was the worst shitty boyfriend," he says with sadness and regret, "I had to support you, be there for you completely, I shouldn't have let Criston talk me into his plans, accept in the beginning to hide you and hide my responsibility."
He says as he looks nostalgic at Aenar in your arms.
"And now that you've given me this second chance, I just want to make things right....I want to do what I should have done in the beginning."
Aemond's expression, although he himself tries to remain expressionless, still feels as if he has been hit hard in the stomach when he hears your words.
And all illusion disappears, as well as his enthusiasm.
He resignedly steps back, leaving a space between you and him, not wanting to overwhelm you any more than he already has.
He thought this would be a good idea, that by the time the three of you were here, looking forward to the idea of a new home, you would understand and accept.
But there are still many open wounds from the past and he knows they cannot be healed with these sudden gestures.
"I know, it's just that I-I..." he tries to say with his voice laden with regret and deep remorse," I didn't expect this... a house or an apology to just fix things," he says sincerely and with disappointment, "I just wanted to give Aenar stability and offer you a safe place for the both of you, give you a better life."
Silence envelops you both, dense and charged with mixed emotions.
Aemond tries to find some sign on your face, wanting you to see his true intention, longing for some small indication of hope or acceptance.
And you feel the overwhelming weight of responsibility and emotions inside you. All of this is tempting, though your heart is still scarred by past pain and also distrust. And you are torn between caution and the opportunity to give Aenar the stability he deserves.
Aemond remains silent, respecting your space and your time to process the situation. But the indecision in you is all too obvious.
"Y/N, I promise you that all this is for Aenar and nothing else," he tells you seriously and sincerely, "I promise I won't try anything, except to take care of him and make sure he lacks nothing," he insists, "At least stay in this house until he grows up a little more and if you still think it's too much, we can find a smaller place," he proposes.
His words are left floating in the air, while you continue to think too hard. His proposal echoing in your mind, plunging you into a sea of thoughts, with indecision.
Aemond seems to have put his heart on the table, but your emotions continue to struggle between caution and hope, as you cannot ignore the possibility of offering Aenar a more secure and stable life, which is all you wish for him since you could not give him that at the beginning.
And it is also what Aemond desires, that is why he is so insistent and you see his true intention to give this to Aenar, without any other intentions in between.
But is it right to trust him again? What if Criston and his team try to intervene again? This time they would do it more easily.
Maybe it can be different this time.
You honestly feel like you're taking a big risk by agreeing. It's a big bet to open your life and Aenar's to this new opportunity, but you also see how he's striving to give you something better.
And that's exactly what has you questioning and wondering: should I give this a chance?
"All right," you finally say in a soft voice with a mixture of nervousness, "But only for Aenar."
Aemond looks at you with surprise and hope.
"Really?"
You nod, swallowing hard and Aemond lets out a long breath, visibly relieved and then, avoiding smiling big, takes the house key from his front pocket and holds it out to you, to which you take it a little confused.
"Don't you have to give it to the real estate agent?"
"Actually, I already bought it," he says with a nervous but innocent gesture at the same time, scratching the back of his neck, "Well, I haven't paid the whole amount, but I've paid most of it. So it's yours."
Seven fucking Hells.
You can't help but think as you close your eyes for a moment and let out a sigh, unable to believe it.
The new house soon began to have that warmth the moment you started settling in with Aenar. Every room radiates a sense of peace and comfort that you haven't experienced in a long time.
The move wasn't difficult at all, the only thing you had to transport from the old apartment with the help of Aemond and his driver was your clothes, Aenar's clothes, her toys and her crib, nothing else.
The house already had furniture, beds, decorations and even televisions already installed.
The high ceilings allow natural light to flood in, while the white walls set off the black and gray furniture and Aenar toys, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.
Aemond builds Lego block forts together with him, buys him toy dragons, cars, stuffed animals and they both watch Aenar's favorite cartoon or movies, getting cozy on the shag carpet or on the couch.
Because Aemond's apartment is close by, his commitment is more accessible, so there is never a day that goes by that he doesn't visit Aenar.
Special moments between father and son are spent in the living room, where toys scattered on the floor become Aenar's playroom area.
Also some evenings the three of you have dinner together, where Aemond offers to feed Aenar and eventually the dining room fills with laughter and smiles as you focus on him.
The backyard also becomes a realm of adventure, where they both even plan picnics and invite you over.
They also both sometimes spend afternoons exploring with laughter and playing with the plastic cars on the lawn where Aenar imitates the sounds Aemond makes from a car.
The new house is filled with happy and warm moments, forming the perfect setting for Aenar to begin to grow up, having both of his parents looking after him.
The proximity of work and Aemond's apartment made the daily routine easier. The routes are short and convenient, allowing more time to enjoy time together.
And above all you definitely feel more at ease having Elinda taking care of Aenar while you are considerably closer to home from the set.
When one day at night, you had already received a message from Aemond telling you that he would be a little late to visit Aenar, as usual, and you replied that it was fine, even though tomorrow is your day off and you have no problem with sleeping late.
But the clock is almost half past eleven at night and you think he is not going to arrive, when just at that moment you hear the doorbell ring and you go to the door, checking from the IPad the cameras of a program that Aemond installed to record Aenar while he sleeps and also monitors in case of anything and so you can make sure he is okay.
And finally you open the door, watching Aemond carefully.
"I thought you weren't coming anymore," you tell him in a low, warm tone, but also worried.
Aemond nods, letting out a sigh.
"I finished later than I thought. It was a hard day," he tells you heavily.
You nod softly and understandingly, stepping aside to let him pass.
"Aenar is already asleep."
"Yes, that's what i thought," he says calmly, "But it doesn't matter, I won't wake him up, I just want to see him," he watches you with tired eye, "You should go to sleep too," he says as he places one of his hands gently on your shoulder, "I'll lock up and set the alarm when I leave."
Hesitation shows on your face for a moment, watching him intently and with a flash of concern.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry," he nods at you with a small soft smile, "Go get some rest, I'll take care of it."
"Fine, but anything tell me, no matter what it is, okay?"
"Okay."
With a soft nod, you both head up the stairs and down the hallway to the rooms, you wave goodbye to him before entering your room and he enters Aenar's room.
And once in your room, you cover yourself with your sheets and thinking that you would fall asleep the moment you were in the comfort of your bed, you suddenly stare at the ceiling for a long time unable to close your eyes and clearly unable to sleep.
He hasn't left yet, as you haven't heard that soft 'click' of the door or his footsteps in the hallway walking away.
You try to find sleep any way you can, but the thought that Aemond is still in the house is what keeps you awake.
And it's not because you don't trust him, on the contrary, you look at the time and feel remorseful and worried that he has to drive back to his apartment so late.
Minutes pass and suddenly you find yourself restless, sleep refusing to invade you. So with quiet steps, you approach Aenar's room, where the dim light of a night lamp reflects through the frame below the door.
Carefully and determined, you gently open the door, first peeking your head and then your body, catching the attention of Aemond who turns his head towards you, sitting near Aenar's crib and gently and very lightly stroking his hair so as not to wake him with a look of affection that does not leave his face despite the interruption.
"Can't you sleep?" he whispers to you, watching you with a soft gaze.
You nod softly, folding your arms as you look down at sleeping Aenar with palpable tenderness.
"It's late and I thought maybe... if you want, you can sleep here," you say with a warm tone but your hint of shyness in your voice is noticeable, as well as your hesitation to suggest such a thing.
It's no problem for you, it's just that he's never slept over before and you don't know what his reaction will really be to you proposing that, whether he'll say yes or no.
"And you're okay with that?" he observes you thoughtfully and softly.
"Yes, of course I am," you assure him completely nonchalantly, "It's totally fine with me."
He nods at you with a gesture, without wiping away his soft little smile.
"Thank you."
And then both his gaze and yours return to watching Aenar asleep in his crib. And Aemond resumes the smile of tenderness on his lips, again sliding his hand over his hair.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he whispers with a flash of pride in his gaze.
You hum in assent, slowly moving closer toward them both.
"Yes, he is," you reply, gazing at your little one with indescribable love.
A brief silence envelops you for a moment, only hearing the soft hum of the spinning lamp projecting images on the ceiling, creating a peaceful low-light scene of animals and stars for Aenar.
This usually helps him sleep and also calms him down a bit if he wakes up crying in the middle of the night while you wake up and rush over here.
"For a while I imagined how he would looked like, whether boy or girl..." he murmurs in a soft, warm, low, wistful tone, "No matter what you decided to do when you left, I always thought about it," he gives you a meaningful look, guilt on his features and you nod, watching him with understanding.
Aemond clenches his jaw and looks at Aenar again, while you remember those days, where fear and uncertainty lived inside you every day.
You wish you had them, those happy moments that a new mom should experience, but that was not the case for you and yet... you cannot imagine a life without your little boy, it is impossible.
What is supposed to be happy news, was not happy for you and Aemond.
There was no single moment of joy at the beginning, when you learned of your pregnancy. Nor did you experience that feeling the first few months, when you ran away and went back to building a new life.
And Aemond feels the remorse most in these kinds of moments, when Aenar is asleep and he looks at him, not being able to believe and wondering over and over again how it is that from the beginning, he supported the idea of just getting rid of him.
And now he sees only him and cannot imagine a world without him.
Shame overcomes him, guilt also and he even wants to cry with anger as he thinks of all that you must have gone through, without his support, trying to make a living for you and his son, all alone in a new and unknown place.
And he knows that this, allowing you to be in Aenar's life, is a great opportunity that he doesn't deserve and yet you have given it to him.
"I know you said you can't forgive me but... someday can you? For how I reacted and for the decision I supported in the beginning?" he asks you, unable to help himself and needing to know.
His tone is charged with a mixture of regret and longing as you feel a pressure and a slight sharp pain in your chest at his words.
Silence stretches for a moment throughout the room, Aemond respects your silence and though there are many reasons why you should never forgive him for what happened, you still decide to be honest.
"I don't know," you whisper in a low, sad and vulnerable tone.
The words echo through the room, enveloping the space with palpable tension.
Aemond feels his heart pounding, filled with overwhelming regret. He lowers his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his mistakes and your words are like a dagger in his heart, but still, he understands you completely.
He nods with compression, letting out a regret-laden sigh, still gently stroking Aenar's hair.
"I understand," he murmurs with a tone of melancholy and fragility, as well as in his gaze full of pleading and remorse.
"Does your family know about him?"
And you with your sad eyes full of regret, you watch him out of the corner of your eye.
And you see all those emotions in him, all his thoughts reflected in his gaze, trying to stand firm and on the sidelines as he continues to watch Aenar.
You can't help but ask, trying to calm the atmosphere a little, though it's useless, as that slight tension is felt and also that physical and emotional distance from both your side and him.
"I've wanted to tell them, only Nyra knows but I asked her not to say anything," he confesses to you in a low voice, trying to speak firmly but the nostalgia is clear, "Even though I know my mother and siblings will be disappointed in me when I explained what happened two years ago, yes I have wanted to tell them," he nods, "But first I wanted to discuss it with you," he says looking briefly at you over his shoulder.
And now it is remorse that comes to you.
"Tell them, Aemond," you tell him firmly with a soft tone, "They deserve to know."
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🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁
(Beginning Relationship Pt. I Edition!)
(It took me fucking forever to find a picture from the movie of Turbo [far too cowardly to use fanart]. Which, as we all know, is fitting.)
- To go into deeper detail on this, your time dating Turbo when he was all high and mighty was… Eventful to say the very least.
- We don’t know much about how Turbo pre-RoadBlasters disaster besides the most obvious points: passionate, sore winner, an even sorer loser, hot-headed, and finally the cherry on this red-white cake; Spite.
- His passion for various things bleeds into the other things in his life, giving a drive that goes beyond the racing track, with the relationship he gains with you being one of those things with a lot of time and patience.
- Victory kisses at the end of the day are a must, even when listening to his frustrated woes from certain players playing game wrong, saying things like “I’M FATTEST RAT IN THE RACE! WHY SHOULD I SUFFER WHEN THESE MOTION DEAF TERMITES DECIDE TO PUT A COUPLE OF COINS IN MY GAME???” ….Yeah <3
- I think in many ways that if you get his trust so much to the point where you guys start dating, he just kinda expects you to listen to his aggravated rants and not do the same for you— Which takes a lot of time to rectify, in his mind he doesn’t think you “have it as bad” as him, as ignorant as that is.
- Yeah he doesn’t exactly get a trophy for “best lover”, that’s for sure.
- And his stubborn behavior doesn’t make that any better, takes him a while to get certain things drilled into his brain when he finally realizes what you’re saying isn’t “nagging”.
- Don’t get him wrong, I genuinely think he has the capability to care for someone else over himself, it just takes a whole lot of work for him to consciously realize that.
- PDA isn’t really much of a thing for Turbo (except for his “well earned” victory kisses) , he has a reputation to uphold as one of the most popular game characters in the arcade, though behind closed doors he basically demands the attention you give him at first.
- If you don’t like being ordered around and tell him as such, it takes a series of fights to realize being bossy in a romantic relationship (or any in general) isn’t exactly the best thing. The obvious in these situations isn’t to him, he has a very one track mind (pun intended) and doesn’t like change when it effects him.
- Which is very understandable, human even, I think that many of us, if we had a choice, would keep things just the way we like it. But— Life itself is all about change, conflict, differing opinions, etc. And while it is aggravating to no end, it’s something a person has to come to terms with.
- Someone like Turbo struggles with that concept, why can’t he act the way he finds more natural?? This stone set mindset drives many way, even the people from his game— Even you at times.
- He loves you to death, with the way he sticks close to you after hours, the way he gets a momentary soft look at you when he thinks you aren’t looking is perceptible to people who pay attention.
- Much like his latter self, King Candy, he has the tendency to hide things from you— Not in a way that maintains a noble or joyous persona, but in a way that tries to hide his softness for you, the desire to clutch you close and never let go.
- The feelings your mere existence gives him scares him, not that he would ever admit that, not even to himself.
- He hates that at times his feelings depend on how you feel, and trying to understand it only stirs the pot, touches of comfort are met with a scoff and some variation of “I’m not some fragile lamb you can comfort.” Though at that point his reactions aren’t nearly as explosive as they used to be.
- Over time I believe that with your help he is able to maintain more composure— Thinking before acting, which is something he is desperate need for.
- Your relationship is very hit and miss at times, but what is love without conflict? BORING, that’s what I say at least.
- Who he is as a whole is both a blessing and a curse, really makes a person think in a “What goes on in that asshole’s head? And how the fuck did he get with someone?”
- The time you have with him before RoadBlasters was installed was special, not perfect in the slightest, but you guy had your moments that one can look at later on with a sense of melancholy.
(Abyiv-ahzapj! *SVBK MHYA UVPZL*)
#wreck it ralph turbo#turbo wreck it ralph#turbo x reader#x reader#king candy x reader#king candy#Spotify
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Lucifer does the thing where he'll get angry at Alastor for something he did in a dream. It drives Alastor crazy because Lucifer's way of dealing with it is to ignore him and of course, Alastor hates it. But he has no idea what he's done so he can't figure out how to fix it. When Lucifer does finally snap at him about it, Alastor is ticked off because he is not apologizing in his non-apologizing way for something he didn't do. This just upsets the king more. It goes on for a while before Charlie corners Alastor and explains that for a man whom dreams are such a big part of him, both in that, he's a dreamer and that sometimes dreams aren't just dreams, it is very much so a big deal.
Vaggie, Husk, and Angel are all assigned to make Lucifer understand why Alastor is offended (Charlie made all three of them do it, under Nifty gaze). They are much less enthused and less in-depth but eventually, they manage to convince him that it's because Alastor was offended that he thought the redhead would do that. They end up taking it out and putting it behind them, though occasionally they still have tiffs over it. It's pretty fast to resolve though, because Lucifer will give Alastor the details of the dream and Alastor will assure that it won't happen. Or at least give the situation where he would do it.
This works well, at least until Lucifer finds a recording of Al and Vox singing Stayed Gone, which he takes great offense to because Alastor picking another 'rival' is something the man has assured him won't happen.
So, he was not happy about the fact that Alastor clearly had something going on with this other random demon. The others try to convince him that the TV Overlord isn't a threat, to which he responds that of course, he's not a threat. He's the bloody king sinners can’t be a threat to him. But that doesn't mean he can't be upset that Alastor lied to him. He's very huffy about it, and very snappy when it comes to the radio demon.
Alastor is very annoyed by this and demands to know what he did to earn this treatment. Only he keeps getting told that he should know and that the king refuses to speak with a lair. The others explain what happened and Alastor is horrified that Lucifer thinks he has something going on with Vox of all people. He immediately sets to rectify it. Only the one place where he has enough power to keep Lucifer there is his radio tower, and when Lucifer is trying to leave, they sort of wrestle and start broadcasting.
The Whole of the pride ring hears the radio demon assure someone, who is far away enough from the mic to not be clear or recognizable, but close enough that they know there's someone in the booth with Alastor, that "No I don't have any other rivals and why on earth would you think that?…….. Well yes, I did cut into the song the TV overlord was singing that it wasn't a rivalry thing it was him defending his honor and name! I've never started anything with him, only replied when he was attacked, and even then, it is always the bare minimum, can't so you see how little effort I put into the song?…….. You have nothing to worry about darling, you're the only one I consider to be worthy of being a true rival, please stop being angry and ignoring me……. It's horrible and it's not making you any happier either."
The voice gets a little clearer as Lucifer gets closer to the mic, to Alastor, and farther away from the door. It's then that he notices the on-air light and points it out. Alastor cusses, a first for many to hear, and ends it. The whole pride ring is in uproar trying to figure out who was in his booth with him. Vox meanwhile is fuming because excuse me? What do you mean we're not rivals? If anyone isn't a rival it's whoever this interloper is!
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spider-verse masterlist // link to my general masterlist
General Warnings -
🕷️ This blog is 18+
🕸️ This particular masterlist contains tasm!Peter Parker, tasm!Harry Osborn, & MCU!Peter Parker fics
🕷️ Some of my fic's contain dark themes or content that is considered inappropriate by some readers, so adhere warnings! I am not responsible for your content consumption; so please read responsibly!
🕸️ If you happen to notice that something is not tagged appropriately or you feel a fic needs a particular warning, please let me know and I will do my best to correct this mistake.
🕷️ And, as always, happy reading!
SPIDER-BOY
🕷️ SUMMARY - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
🕸️ WARNINGS - older work
THINGS CHANGE
🕷️ SUMMARY - Your ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, finds out that you're planning on going out with Harry Osborn, and he's definitely not happy about it.
🕸️ WARNINGS - sexual situations, slight degradation kink if you squint, no true smut, older work
GUTS
🕷️ SUMMARY - Peter gets seriously hurt saving someones life, in the midst of panic your true feelings for him come out.
🕸️ WARNINGS - stabbing, blood, violence, some fluff, older work
HANDS
🕷️ SUMMARY - Peter is completely oblivious to just how horny you get while watching him work.
🕸️ WARNINGS - sexual themes, older work
SWEAT & SPANDEX
🕷️ SUMMARY - You tell Peter about an idea you had, he makes it a reality.
🕸️ WARNINGS - breaking & entering, rough handling, bad smut, potentially could be seen as con-non-con
SHUTTER
🕷️ SUMMARY - You barely even remember Peter's name, but that hasn't stopped him from forming a dangerous obsession with you.
🕸️ WARNINGS - mature themes, stalking, some non-con acts (taking pictures), -creep/perv!peter
OUR GIRL ft. Harry Osborn
🕷️ SUMMARY - You're forced into attending a gala with Peter and Harry, where your best friends unintentionally plant a tempting idea in your head.
🕸️ WARNINGS - pining, light alcohol consumption, banter, alludes to sexual content, best friend harry/peter
PLAY NICE ft. Harry Osborn
🕷️ SUMMARY - Peter and Harry both want a turn with you.
🕸️ WARNINGS - light smut, threesome, degradation
FOREVER INDEBTED
🕷️ SUMMARY - Peter Parker might’ve saved your life, but Harry Osborn owns your heart.
🕸️ WARNINGS - mature themes, cheating
OUR GIRL ft. Peter Parker
🕷️ SUMMARY - You're forced into attending a gala with Peter and Harry, where your best friends unintentionally plant a tempting idea in your head.
🕸️ WARNINGS - pining, light alcohol consumption, banter, alludes to sexual content, best friend harry/peter
PLAY NICE ft. Harry Osborn
🕷️ SUMMARY - Peter and Harry both want a turn with you.
🕸️ WARNINGS - light smut, threesome, degradation
SPLIT LIP
🕷️ SUMMARY - Harry gets into a fight and emotions start to unfold.
🕸️ WARNINGS - angst, fighting, lil fluff, smut, blood, unprotected sex
ANTI-HERO - unfinished - part I // part II
🕷️ SUMMARY - In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated.
🕸️ WARNINGS - fighting, blood, potentially mature content
INFINITELY YOU - series masterlist linked here
🕷️ SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
🕸️ WARNINGS - story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
A DARK AGE - on hold
part one // part two
#spider-stark masterlist#spider-stark spiderman masterlist#spiderman masterlist#peter parker masterlist#my work
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Can we have creator wanting to die thing you wrote but with Xiao or venti? İ love my anemo boys. Could be a tic, or if you're lasy just write it as what you think would happen i would appriciate both if you could 🫶
Oooo!! There's an idea! Actually these two would be very interesting to write for me.
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Venti actually in my head is most likely one of the first to find out about the creator. I've already wrote how it happened in my first oneshot for this so you can scroll my profile for it. But! It's how he acts after that really gets my brain screaming. He would be such a depressed mess, absolutely devastated with himself for harming the divine. Seeing their body turn to ash while smiling had definitely messed him up a bit.
If he finds them again then all hell breaks loose, cause he is definitely gonna try and lock them in a safe place. Though that isn't really successful since creator being so mentally broken can and will find a way to experience another death. Though they can say goodbye to falling from high places as a method cause now the winds of Teyvat just refuse to let them end up as a splatter of muscle and blood, it's especially annoying in trying to push them to safety because of Venti's active paranoia over them.
He also would be helping Nahida in spreading the word to the other archons about the situation, though he very much will take the blame for being one of the first to harm them when they first arrived.
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Xiao? Oh god Xiao has had enough trauma this is so painful dhskdjf. Because while Xiao I can see as more of a casual follower kind of, the fact that Morax would be such a big worshipper is probably the reason why Xiao would be protective of the Primordial Mother's honor.
It's why he would have the highest kill count, both to dispell any opportunity for Morax to get angry and to uphold the creator's honorable visage.
Which is why if I feel like the more he encounters the broken creator, who is constantly seeking for a more entertaining death, the more likely he becomes...almost worried? Like he would mainly think it's just another lunatic that is super obsessed with the creator that they physically changed their image to look like them as a way to feel closer, but as time went on and each one talks about the previous' death. He would definitely become suspicious.
Normally how I think about why no one found out right away from their first time killing the creator is because it's a common thing to not look at the body of an "imposter" or "heretic" as they die, solely because seeing them in such a state while having the Primordial Mother's face would be a disgrace to them. So they typically wait until the body is gone, and by then the golden blood has disappeared.
This is how Xiao would find out, he would directly look at them as they died before him to fully understand. And upon seeing that golden does the reality of the situation hit him harder than any karmic debt pain he's felt. All those countless deaths, all those bodies that piled up from him. It was the same god, the same creator who the entirety of Teyvat loved.
It's definitely going to eat at him, practically devour his mind and almost shatter his mental state. But instead of fully breaking down, he runs to Morax, the adeptus, anyone he can think of to try to rectify the mistakes he and the others of Liyue have made.
When the creator is put into a safe place by the time the entirety of Teyvat knows, he's the first to volunteer as a guard. To make up for not protecting them like he should've from the beginning. Though this isn't gonna be good for either's mental health since the creator would just beg him to kill them, and him begging them to not say such things and to please forgive him.
#sagau#genshin sagau#death seeking creator#just a quick thing#i like answering these spontaneously#so sorry if this isnt enough
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we just wanna hear any hcs you have for our boy misch
Alright, y’all asked for it, buckle up:
Mischa makes most of his money from an apprenticeship he has at the only tattoo parlor in Uranium City. He gets paid a bit, and on top of that he gets free tattoos (which is where he got all of his from). Plus it keeps him out of the house and also pisses his very traditionally valued adoptive parents off. Win win.
My Mischa only has tattoos on his right arm bc I am left handed so HE is left handed- he does his own tattoos mostly. He was going to start a sleeve on his left arm after he got home from the fall fair.
Speaking of his tattoos; the first tattoo he gave himself was one that says “Bad Egg” w/devil horns and a devil tail. “Bad Egg” was something his adoptive dad would frequently call him, so it was his way of reclaiming the name for himself, and pissing off his adoptive parents bc they were viciously anti-tattoo
He has another tattoo of a crescent moon with a “ - T” next to it bc he asked Talia to draw him something to put on his body. She drew the moon because of the time difference between Kyiv & Uranium, any time she sees the moon she knows she’s going to hear from Mischa soon. So she began to associate Mischa with the moon.
My personal fav tattoo I gave Mischa is that stereotypical “S” where you draw 6 lines and connect them. This is brand fucking new to Mischa, he had never seen it before, and he thought it was dope af, so he tattooed it on himself immediately.
He has a tattoo of a pot leaf, but it’s not very good so everyone always thinks it’s a Canadian maple leaf. Which drives him up the wall.
Mischa has taken in a small black cat that would hang around the tattoo parlor and would occasionally follow him home. It lives with him in the basement, it comes and goes, and it is a well kept hidden secret.
Mischa hangs at Noel’s house…a lot. Noel’s mom lets him stay the night often bc she knows about his home life and thinks it’s disgraceful, so she takes care of him.
Mischa was class clown and relatively popular at his high school in Ukraine- which is the polar opposite of how he’s received at St. Cassian’s. People either are afraid of him, or they try to make fun of him, so either way he has found himself alone most of the time.
He’d never admit it, but Mischa does actually enjoy hanging with the kids in the choir. He gets to hang with his bestie, Noel. He admires Constance’s patience and kindness, he thinks she’s probably the best person in Uranium. While he and Ocean get on each other’s nerves, there’s a small part of him that secretly looks forward to their fights. But only a little bit. He doesn’t notice Ricky is there until after the accident, and then spends a large chunk of his time trying to rectify that by getting to know/encourage Ricky.
He and Noel became friends bc some of the boys who were trying to bully Mischa were also bullying Noel. When Mischa was about to start defending Noel, Noel ended up proving he can defend himself with his quick wit rather than fists. This is a trait that Mischa admires a lot, so they pretty much joined forces that day and they’ve been the dynamic duo of Uranium City ever since.
Mischa has pretty severe abandonment issues and it prone to panic attacks because of it. He’s more of a “suffer in silence” kind of guy, so it takes someone with patience and kindness like Constance to give him some tips on how to calm himself down. I.E. remembering a calming situation like “climbing back into your bed in the morning and feeling the heat left over from your body.”
Mischa had been kicked out of a few schools in Uranium, and his adoptive figures (they’re not really parents, barely guardians) gave him one last chance at St. Cassian’s. When he was caught stealing the communion wine, Father Marcus told him he HAD to join the choir and that he HAD to at the very least sing at the competition. Which is why he doesn’t do any choreo during the opening number.
Addendum- he does ONE move during the opening number. The finger wag on “oh no no” because Noel came up with that move, and after Ocean tried to cut it, Mischa said it was the only move he’d do even if it was cut. So he forced her to keep the move in via malicious compliance.
Over the course of the musical, there isn’t really a moment where he thinks he’s gonna win. His life wasn’t fair, why should his death be any different.
He thinks Jane is THE coolest and THE most metal thing he’s ever seen. After she finishes her number, his heart is effectively broken for her.
When Constance punches Ocean, Mischa doesn’t have the “FUCK YEAH” reaction that you’d expect. It’s actually met with some sadness. He’s always encouraging Constance to stick up for herself, and to not take Ocean’s shit. But, he respects that she has patience and kindness. When Constance punches Ocean, he almost sees it as a failure on his part.
The reason in my head why Mischa and Ocean feud so much is because they remind each other of one another’s parents. Ocean is the poster child of excellence in Uranium, Mischa’s adoptive parents have said more than once that they wish he could “be like that Ocean girl” - on the contrary, Ocean has caught Mischa smoking weed before. His incredibly radically liberal world view reminds her of her hippy parents. They get that anger out at them on each other. But at the end of the show, they both have a deeper respect for one another. Ocean for Mischa because she sees the real him, who is gentle & compassionate. Mischa for Ocean because she does the most selfless thing she could possibly do, which he respects infinitely.
I’m sure I have more but these are the HC’s that immediately came to mind. This is what makes Majestic Rep’s Mischa, Mischa.
#ask#mischa bachinski#ride the cyclone#mischa rtc#rtc#ride the cyclone headcanons#majestic rep#majestic rep theatre#majestic repertory theatre
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