#gravedigger x reader

[honeypiehotchner]

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part five

We have reached the (very smutty) (kind of) end. (You’re welcome.)

Do we want an epilogue? I kind of want an epilogue,,, So yeah these two are getting an epilogue 🤪

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

Warnings: 18+ only! unprotected sex (wrap it irl), oral (f receiving), Jake has a thing for begging, apparently, slight cockwarming (i’m a slut for it, what can i say) they’re still bickering like an old married couple

WC: 3.5k

When you get back to Penny’s house it’s just a few minutes after six, so you expect to be able to lay back on the couch and act like you’ve been there all night.

Except, of course, Penny is awake and waiting for you in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” you say, offering a sheepish smile.

Penny nods, smirking, leaning back against the counter. “Good morning. How’s Hangman?”

You quietly close the back door. “Did you hear us?”

“I think the whole street heard you two bickering,” Penny laughs.

But you grimace. “Shit. Did we wake you?”

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I slept an hour or two and couldn’t anymore.”

“Yeah,” you frown. “Same here. Until Hangman got here. Soaking wet. He walked here.”

“I heard,” Penny reminds you, still laughing. “What was it? You’re fucking crazy!”

“Oh my god.” You hide your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry. I was so pissed. I couldn’t help it.”

“I get it,” Penny says. “You didn’t wake Amelia though, don’t worry. She can sleep through anything, especially with those headphones in.”

“Teenagers,” you chuckle wistfully. “Did you tell her they left?”

Penny shakes her head. “I think she knows. She asked if we could take the boat out for a while.”

“Are you?”

“Well,” Penny sighs. “What are your plans? Do you still want to move?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “But that can wait. If you need to go, I understand. Take some time.” You pause, remembering how you and your mom did that a few times. You could always tell when she was especially worried because the two of you would take off to her sister’s house in Nevada for a week. As if being in a different state would make the pain hurt less if the worst case scenario happened.

“Are you sure?” Penny asks. “I don’t want to leave you--”

“Go,” you insist. “I can watch over The Hard Deck if you want.”

“You don’t have to open,” she says. “Everyone knows I take Amelia on vacation for a few days here and there.”

“Yeah, but now you have me here,” you grin. “I can keep them entertained while you’re gone.”

“You sure you wouldn’t want to come with us?”

You think it over for a moment, then shake your head. “I think I need to be here.”

Penny smiles gently. She gets it. “Okay.”

+++

Penny and Amelia leave the next morning. Amelia tries to convince you to join them, but she quickly lets it go when you cave and tell her you’ll be moving in. You wanted to wait to tell her, but you couldn’t take it anymore.

You spend the day moving things around in the spare room. Penny said she doesn’t mind where you put things, just as long as it isn’t hidden somewhere she can’t find it later. You find room in a few closets and even the closet in the room to store boxes. Penny was exaggerating when she told you just how much was in here. You’re finished in one day.

You don’t open The Hard Deck until the second day, and you only stay open for a few hours. With the aviators gone, not many people came around, and the regulars seemed a bit disappointed when you said Penny was gone on vacation. They’re used to the bar being closed, not a random woman running it for Penny.

Keeping busy is the best thing you can do for yourself.

So, you also head back to your apartment to pack up some more of your things, and officially let your leasing office know you’ll be leaving soon. They tell you that you don’t need to be out until the end of the month, but they don’t argue when you say you’ll likely be out sooner than that.

You load your car down and make a few trips before you’re too exhausted to do anymore for the day. Sitting on the beach sounds much more enticing, so you do that instead.

As the sun sets, you take a quick swim, watching the sky and wondering which direction the aviators are in. And if they’re okay. And if they’ve even gone up yet. And if they have gone up, if it went okay. If they’re on their way back now. If they have to wait.

You haven’t wondered about this many “if’s” since your dad. You forgot how easy it is for them to consume you, but at least it’s slightly easier now to quiet them. Now you know how.

The next day, you decide to grab lunch and eat with your dad. You spend hours out there, eating, drinking, and talking to him. You had no idea you had so much to tell him, even more than last week. You find yourself laughing like you used to with him when he was alive.

The rest of the day, you take a drive with all the windows down, music blaring, feeling free for the first time in a long time.

+++

The regulars at The Hard Deck get used to you after a couple nights, so you’ve started opening the doors every night.

This particular afternoon, you’re getting ready to open, doing all the things you didn’t do yesterday when you closed. You said it could be Tomorrow You’s problem, and now Tomorrow You is paying for it.

Behind you, the door swings open, and without looking, you holler, “Sorry, we’re not open just yet!” You must’ve forgotten to lock the door behind you.

“Really, sweetheart?”

You nearly drop the glass you were drying. Even then, it slams a little too hard on the counter when you let go of it, but you don’t have time to look at it.

Hangman has zero warning before you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapped around him like a koala, legs around his middle and all. He stumbles slightly, but regains his footing and widens his stance, holding you tight.

“I got you, honey,” he says, chuckling a little. He kisses your temple a few times, squeezing you. “I got you.”

“I missed you,” you say into his neck. Abruptly, you lift your head and stare at his face, searching for any cuts or bruises. “Are you okay? Did everything go okay?” Your hands move to hold his face, glad to be able to touch him again.

“I’m alright,” he says. “We’re all okay. We did it.”

You smile in relief. And then you kiss him.

Once again, you make him stumble. He’s never had a woman like you, one that can make him lose his balance so easily.

It only takes him a few seconds to get past the shock, and then he’s sighing into your mouth, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his body. You whimper quietly when his grip gets a little too tight, and he groans in response, the sound sending a shock throughout your body.

“Woah! Hey! Jesus!”

You and Hangman spring apart like two teenagers caught making out in your parents’ basement.

Maverick has shielded his eyes and turned away, but you can see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Sorry Mav,” you murmur sheepishly, walking over to give him a hug, too.

“No problem,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “I see you two got over yourselves.”

“Oh, shut up,” you shove his shoulder and he winces -- genuinely, not trying to get a rise out of you. “Hey,” your eyebrows furrow in concern. “You okay?”

He shrugs. “Been better.”

You give him a stern look. “You were supposed to be training them.” You pause, crossing your arms. “Pete Maverick. Did you fucking go up in this mission?”

“Maybe.”

“For fucks sake,” you mutter, shaking your head. Now you can really see all the cuts and bruises on his face. What the fuck happened? You know you can’t ask. “I’m glad you’re alive, but holy fuck. You’ve lost your mind.”

“Me too, kiddo,” Mav smiles, ignoring your last comments. “Where’s Penny?”

You were waiting for that to come out of his mouth. You smile sadly. “Her and Amelia went on vacation for a few days.”

He nods. “Oh. Okay.”

“Sorry, Mav,” you murmur. “She just couldn’t…be here, you know. She--”

“I get it, yeah,” he says, but he’s clearly hurt. You can see it on his face and hear it in his few words. “Well, I’ll text her.”

“I’ll let her know you stopped by,” you say. It might help for you to say something to her, too.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “Well, I uh…I should probably go.” Maverick gestures between you and Hangman. “So you two can…catch up.” His shit-eating grin splits his face, and you all but kick him out of the bar.

With Maverick gone, you walk back toward Hangman, who is leaning against the bar in his usual suave way. And he’s smirking, of course.

“What are we doing tonight?” he asks.

“Depends,” you shrug, planning to tease him as much as possible. “You taking me to dinner first?”

“First?” He raises an eyebrow. “Before…?”

You feign deep thought, crossing your arms over your chest. “Hm. We’ll see how dinner goes.”

“You’re killin’ me, honey.”

“That’s the plan.”

The truth? You’d love to lock the doors and have him ravish you right here on the bar. But you’re classier than that, and the bartop would probably be uncomfortable as hell. Especially when you have a house to yourself. You have 100% certainty that Penny and Amelia won’t be back for at least another two days, so you won’t have to worry about anyone walking in on you two.

“Do you want to go out?” Hangman asks, pushing himself off the bar to stand at his full height. “Or what about if we stay in?”

“Order in?” you question.

He shakes his head, walking closer to you to rest his hands on your hips. “Absolutely not. I’ll cook.”

You raise both eyebrows. “You. You cook?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He almost looks genuinely offended. “My momma raised me right, thank you very much. I know how to cook a lady a proper meal. I haven’t exactly had the chance before, but--”

“Mm, right, because you’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” you say, regretting it when you do. It feels like a low blow, but it’s like your common sense short circuits when he’s around.

“I used to be,” he agrees, taking it in stride. “But I haven’t been that way in years.”

“Really now?” You rest your hands on his chest, unable to restrain yourself from touching him.

“I guess I’ve been waiting for you, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but that was smooth. It’s taking everything in you not to smile at him, and he can tell. Just like that, the conversation is righted again, and the weird tension has left.

“Do you like breakfast?” he asks.

“Yeah?” you reply. “Who doesn’t?”

“Just checking,” he shrugs. “What time do you wanna eat?”

“Whenever it’s ready,” you smile. “We’ll need to go to the store first. There’s next to nothing in Penny’s house.”

“What about here?” he asks. “You opening tonight?”

“Not anymore,” you reply, looking at him like he’s dumb (he is, a little). “There hasn’t been much business, anyway. They really love Penny.”

“Don’t we all,” he grins. “Can we go now?”

“You’re just eager to get in my pants, aren’t you?”

He grins. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope,” you reply, flashing him a sweet smile. “I’ll just make you wait even longer.”

+++

After getting all of the ingredients from the store (and some other food for you to eat, after Hangman scolded you for how bare the cabinets were), Hangman takes over Penny’s kitchen.

You try to help him cook, but the most he lets you do is grab the eggs for him. You try to help mix the pancake batter and he swats your hands away.

“All I want you to do is park your ass on that counter,” he points with the spatula, “and look pretty while I cook.”

“Hm.” You find it hard to argue with that. It’s been a long time since you’ve had someone else cook for you. So, you hop on the counter and let him do his thing.

Which apparently includes loudly serenading you with George Strait.

He only meant to do one song, but when he saw the smile it brought to your face, he wanted to do entire albums.

The two of you eat at the kitchen table because when you suggested the couch, Hangman teased, “We’re not hooligans.”

He sets the table and finds a random candle to light, but the scent smells awful so you blow it out immediately.

Honestly, the pancakes are delicious. You expected them to be nothing special -- because they’re pancakes -- but somehow he has made the best damn pancakes you’ve ever had. And it infuriates you.

The two of you bicker about how to load the dishwasher because it’s not the best, so you have to be picky about where certain things are placed unless you want the house to flood.

Then, on your way to the couch, you bicker about what movie to watch because his taste in movies is horseshit and he says the same about yours, but neither of you really mean it.

And eventually, he ends the arguing by kissing you to shut you up.

“God, you irritate me,” you say in between kisses.

“Same here,” he mutters, absolutely devouring your mouth. “Can we just--” he pauses because you keep kissing him, like you’ve been in a desert for three years and have finally found an oasis. “Shit.”

“Mhm,” you nod, pausing your kisses only for him to chase you down. At least this time he begins kissing your neck so you can talk, but you can’t think and you’re already out of breath. “What were you saying?”

He lifts his head, chest heaving, pupils blown. He’s a goner, yet still he says, “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re not comfortable or, you know, or ready, I just-- I just really needed to kiss you.”

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I really appreciate that,” you murmur. “But if you don’t fuck me in the next fifteen minutes, I’m kicking you out.”

In one swift move, Hangman has you lying on your back and he’s hovering above you. “Don’t worry about that, honey,” he says. “I just needed you to say the word.”

“Thank god,” you laugh, reaching up to grab his face and pull his lips back down to yours.

He lowers his body onto yours and you can feel just how excited he is, especially when his hips jerk involuntarily against your stomach.

“Having problems?” you tease, your fingertips already wandering to the hem of his t-shirt.

“None at all,” he replies, getting your message and yanking his shirt over his head.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, of course, but that time was different. Something about seeing him up close this time, just above you, makes it that much hotter.

“What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“What kind of lover you are,” you reply. Not a total lie.

“Depends,” he says with that wild grin of his.

You raise an eyebrow. “On what?”

“On what kind of day it’s been for you, for me,” he says. “And it depends on what you need.”

“You have got to stop being so smooth.”

“No can do, sweetheart,” he says. “I don’t know how.”

You pull his face down to yours again, wanting to feel his lips and tongue against yours. He kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away again, making you frown.

“What do you need tonight?” he asks, and you can tell he’s dead serious.

“You,” you answer. “I just need you.”

“You have me,” he says. “What else?”

“I don’t have you until I have you inside of me,” you reply.

“Now who’s being smooth?” he teases, already working his pants down his legs. He kicks them off and leaves his boxers, focusing on you for the moment. “Can I take this off?”

You grin. “Thought you’d never ask.”

With all of your clothes gone except your underwear, you lift your back to allow Hangman to unclip your bra -- which he does with scary precision. Once it’s off, Hangman immediately cups your breasts in both hands, and dives for your neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Jesus christ,” you mutter, not prepared at all for how he goes from 0 to 100 every time. His boxers are on, but his hips are grinding against yours seemingly on their own.

His lips travel from your cheeks to your lips as his hands move south. One wraps around your back to pull you into his body, and the other finds its way into your underwear. He snakes one finger inside you and you cry out, which just lets his tongue race for yours.

He pulls back, though, feeling your walls already beginning to flutter around his finger. “Shit,” he says. “I have to taste you-- Can I taste you?”

You’re barely able to say yes before he’s moving down your body, leaving small kisses in his wake. He tugs your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere before parting your thighs.

“You’re so pretty, darlin’,” he whispers, his thumbs massaging your thighs. His voice alone makes you shift your hips, opening your legs wider for him. He takes the invitation.

You’ve let a man go down on you once before, but he wasn’t good and you never tried again. Hangman is very obviously a different story, based on the sheer fact that he has you cumming just seconds after his lips zero in on your clit. This is not a man who is afraid of worshiping you.

He works his fingers into you and you reach your second climax in no time. He curls his fingers ever so slightly as your body shakes for him.

“I don’t wanna leave this view,” he chuckles, but you’re already tugging at his shoulders, demanding he return to kissing you.

“Get these off,” you mutter, accidentally snapping the elastic of his boxers.

“Ow!” he feigns hurt. “Feisty.” He kicks his boxers off and you feel him rest against your stomach, hard and warm. “Better?”

“Much,” you grin, kissing him while your hand sneakily moves down to wrap around him.

His hips stutter when he feels your hand and he groans into your mouth, nearly collapsing on top of you. “Give a man some warning, will you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you laugh, slowly moving your hand, which you know must be torturing him. “Did you bring a condom?”

His head drops into your neck. “Fuck.”

“I’m taking that as a no,” you reply.

“I didn’t think, honey, I’m sorry,” he says, lifting his head, and when he looks into your eyes, he’s genuinely regretful.

“I’m on birth control,” you say. “And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone for years.”

“I’m clean, too,” he says. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“You’d be outside right now if I wasn’t,” you tease. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

“Of course I’m fine with it,” he replies, kissing your nose. “But you need to stop before I cum.”

You quickly remove your hand, not wanting him to finish just yet. You’d much rather he did that inside of you than all over your stomach.

Neither of you can wait any longer. You help guide his head inside, arching your back at the feel of him sliding home. When he’s fully seated inside of you, he pauses, taking deep breaths. You can feel him twitching, you know he’s using all of his strength to not cum right away, and somehow that makes it even hotter.

“You need to move,” you groan. “I need you to move, Jake, please.”

“Say that again.”

You almost didn’t hear him. “What?”

“Say it again,” he says, pressing his hips even closer to yours.

“Please,” you say, not even sure if that’s what he wants, but you’re getting desperate. “Please, move, Jake-- fuck!”

He goes slow, but it’s enough. His strokes are long and deep, and each one leaves you writhing and begging for more.

“You want me to go faster?” he says, lips sucking at your neck. “Beg for it.”

“Oh my god.” You hate him. You hate him so much. “Please, harder, Jake, please.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, then does exactly as you wish.

His hips slam into yours at a blinding pace. You’re given no warning before you cum for the third time tonight, holding onto Jake for dear life as he doesn’t slow down at all, chasing his own release. Even as you feel him cumming inside of you, his hips don’t falter. Instead, he holds you tighter, moaning into your neck as your walls flutter around him, struggling to calm down.

With your chests heaving, you stay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for who knows how long.

You scratch small circles on the back of his head, and he falls asleep in no time, shifting most of his weight toward the back of the couch so he isn’t crushing you entirely. You follow him to sleep a few moments later.

#gravedigger’s daughter #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman x fem!reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman smut

[lxvvie]

@ghosts-goldendoodle

We need to talk about this because this is absolutely what that smart ass would say lmao.

"'s not my fault I'm a prime cut, darlin'," with his smarmy ass smirk and shit but he fucks around and finds out that you will ABSOLUTELY call him Philly Cheese Steak all the time, even in front of his men.

#phillip graves x reader #GRAVEDIGGERS UNITE!

[mandalhoerian]

VERA KAPLAN in RESIDENT EVIL

There are a lot of words to define Vera Kaplan: genius, recalcitrant, nosy, whimsical. Heroic isn’t one of them. A hero could save everyone in the end, they would surely muster the courage from within to swoop just in time. A coward hiding behind her intelligence like her? What world are you living in?

Vera isn’t a hero. She has lost everything in Racoon City’s destruction simply because she was too late and too much of a wuss to act. It was out of her hands, she’d thought. I’ve aided the true heroes, they’ll do something. It didn’t matter she was a genius then, the knowledge had become a curse upon her and handcuffs on her wrists that had taken her wits away until the day disaster finally struck. The girl had been stripped down to a mute, defeated Cassandra of Troy, left all alone only to bury the corpses of her failure and with a graveyard in the back of her mind to visit for the future days to come. 

Now, Vera is the gravedigger. She visits before death does, just to tell it is coming. A noble hero’s nature is to lull justice in like a fickle cat just as hers is to excavate the dirt to uncover long rotted carcasses in the gardens of those who deem innocents a life of the undead proper, and fashion them a gravestone of their own right next to the crumpled bodies they have tucked away six feet under, lost to the light forever. 

It's the only way Vera knows (has learned) how to protect, no matter what methods she has to use. She will dig her own grave first than bury someone she loves again.

[x] [x]

#resident evil oc #leon kennedy x oc #leon s. kennedy x oc #original character #oc edit #character edit #userjillvalcntines #story: gravedigger #you might not care about my stupid oc but i simply couldnt leave her as reader she's got so much lore already its overflowing #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s. kennedy #i should have made an rp account for her or something but oh well #yes im still doing edits instead of writing #oc: vera kaplan #i still dont know how to info dump on her properly i have so much LMAO

[queers-gambit]

Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

[slaymybreathaway]

Batwife (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

"The Batman" 2022

Warnings: mentions of nudity

Word Count: 776

Masterlist

"The city's favourite couple are saying 'I do' this morning at Gotham Cathedral. Billionaire Bruce Wayne and Oscar Winning actress Y/n L/n made their first public appearance as a couple nearly 3 years ago at the premier of y/n's movie The Gravedigger," one reporter said.

Every news station in the city waited impatiently outside the cathedral for them to emerge. It was the event of the decade, the closest Gotham would ever get to a royal wedding.

Just then, the newlyweds emerged from the Church. Y/n was wearing a simple silk wedding dress with colourful flowers adorned on the lace sleeves that covered her arms. Bruce was looking sharp in a black suit. The handkerchief tucked neatly in his breast pocket was a bright yellow. Many fans speculate that the burst of colour was added by his new wife, the actress being famous for her making block colours fashionable again.

As soon as the doors of the Cathedral were opened, they were bombarded with flashing cameras and intrusive questions.

"Y/n, many speculate you are marrying for money," one particularly pushy reporter asked.

Bruce tried to get his new wife to ignore this statement but y/n turned around and spoke straight into his microphone. "I'm more than capable of making my own money, thank you," she said and followed her husband into the wedding car.

♡ 5 years later ♡

Y/n Wayne sat in living room watching, no studying the news. Every night she did the same, waiting for the headline she dreaded 'Masked Vigilante Found Dead'. Thankfully it hasn't happened yet.

Then, Alfred brought her a cup of coffee. "Here, I assume you won't go to sleep until Master Bruce comes home," he smiled slightly.

"Am I that readable?" she asked and took the cup "Anyways will you tell me when he does get home, please?"

Alfred agreed and y/n went back to watching the news.

An hour later, y/n was on the verge of falling asleep when Alfred came back in. "Master Bruce has arrived," he announced.

Y/n yawned. She got up, put on her robe and got in the elevator down to what her husband called the 'bat-cave' but she referred to it as the glorified basment.

When the elevator stopped y/n could see Bruce writing down the nights events.

"Dear Diary, it's Halloween today and I had to dress up like a bat. All the other kids made fun of me and stole my candy," she joked and walked over to him.

Bruce smiled "I told you not to wait around for me anymore honey," He closed his notebook and brought her face to kiss him.

She watched as he took out his camera contact lenses and placed them on the scanner.

Y/n knew that he wouldn't listen to her properly while watching the footage of tonight so she decided to mess with him.

"I went to a Halloween party tonight,"

"Mhm, that's nice honey. What did you wear?" he asked, not really caring about the answer.

"Barely anything," y/n whispered in his ear.

No reaction whatsoever came from Bruce's face, he replied with another automated answer "Great, hope you didn't get too cold,"

Y/n crossed her arms in frustration. "You should've came. To the party, I mean. If I attend another social event alone people will start to rumour your death,"

"Well, it seems like crime never ends in this city," he said, his head still stuck in the monitors.

"Yeah but marriages do," y/n mumbled.

Bruce broke out of his trance and turned to face his wife. "What?"

Y/n's expression broke into a smile. "The fact that I had to mention divorce for my husband to even make eye contact with me,"

He sighed "I'm sorry, my love. It's just, this thing," he gestures to the screen.

"Maybe I can help?" y/n asked, already knowing the answer. Bruce didn't want her involved in the whole 'Batman' thing because she worries enough about him without her knowing the amount of danger he really is in.

"C'mon, with most women, if their husband stayed out half the night and comes back with eye makeup on then he's cheating. My situation is... A little different. Just, please let me help you," she looked up at him pleadingly.

He sighed. "Alright come here," he wrapped his arms around his wife as he showed her the 'He lies still' card.

#dcmultiverse #comic books #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #the batman #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #gotham #dano riddler

[avocado-writing]

hii first of all, I love love love your writing so much so I gathered up courage to ask you for a Crowley x reader fanfic. I finished watching season 2 some days ago (💔) and I loved the minisode where their gravediggers and Crowley is high as fuck on laudanum, I think? So the request would be like Zira just manages to drag Crowley to your house and is like “girl take him i’m tired of his ass” and the reader tries to take care of him but he just does all his shenanigans and is super loud and cuddly (not that he’ll admit that the next day). Thank you so much and I understand if you don’t want to write this💕💕💕

notes: thank you so much! please never feel you have to gather courage to ask me for a request, I love receiving them! pairing: crowley x gn!reader rating: T (drug use)

There’s a sharp knocking at the door. It’s very late, so you suppose it’s a good thing that the knocker is insistent, or you’d have slept through it. You throw on a robe and shuffle downstairs. 

“Yes, alright, I’m on my way!” you bark. Groggily you take yourself to the front door and open it enough peer through. 

Aziraphale is holding Crowley up. The demon’s head is rolling around wildly, almost as if he’s possessed. They both look manic. You can’t have these two on your doorstep, if they’re spotted your nosy neighbours will never let you hear the end of it.

“Hullo! Er, sorry it’s late, but would you mind opening the door?” Aziraphale asks. Well; it’s more of a plea. With a groan you usher them both inside your house, slamming the door behind you before anyone can get a good look at the strange gentlemen you just welcomed. 

“What’s wrong with him?” you ask, bracing yourself for the worst. The angel waves a hand at you, dismissive.

“Nothing too much to be worried about, just–”

“Laudanum!” Crowley suddenly pipes up, loudly, causing both you and Aziraphale to jump in shock. “Whole bottle of it!”

With that the demon goes to take a step towards you, totally trips over his own feet, and tumbles heavily into your arms. You send Aziraphale a firm glance.

“Laudanum? What on earth did you let him drink that for!?”

“I didn’t let him do anything! Sometimes he’s just… impulsive,” Aziraphale says. “But please can I leave him here while he sobers up? I’ve just got a little business to finish sorting out.”

He sticks you with the most pathetic gaze you’ve ever seen, and while Crowley begins to fiddle with the tassel on your robe, you feel yourself caving.

“I’m not a nanny for when one of you gets sick,” you sigh… but finally relent, “but alright. This once. You’d better be back by morning, Aziraphale.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I absolutely owe you a favour.”

You’ve lost track of all the favours Aziraphale owes you now. You slough Crowley off your person and into an armchair so you can lock up as the angel leaves. When you turn back he’s on the floor, picking loose threads out of your nice living room rug.

“Oi! Stop that!”

“I need to make it tidy,” he states. You groan and with some effort get him back in the chair, pushing him forcefully in the chest when he tries to rise again. This time he stays put.

“Right. I’m going to make you some tea–” you begin, but are cut off when you feel him wrap a hand around your wrist and tug you into his lap.

“Crowley-!”

“Come on, give me a cuddle.”

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and realise you’re not fighting his embrace quite as sincerely as you should be. He’s very warm and surprisingly comfortable for a bag of bones. 

“Get your hands off me!” you tell him, but your heart isn’t really in it. He loosens his grip a little but you don’t leave his arms, instead just find a way to get a little bit more comfortable. With a sigh you take off his glasses so you can look him in the eye. His pupils are blown out when you meet his gaze; he’s clearly off his face. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, “you come here often?”

“To my house, Crowley?”

He looks around, as if he’s not quite sure that you’re telling the truth, but you drag his attention back to you with a gentle hand on the chin.

“How did you get laudanum in you, eh?”

“Stopped a girl killing herself.”

“Oh. Did it work?”

“‘Course it worked. I’m a genius, me. A genius!” he trills the last note, flinging his arms wide. You press a finger to his lips to quieten him down. Amazingly he does. He crosses his eyes as he tries to focus on where you’re touching him, and the image is a rather sweet one.

“You can be a good man, you know that, don’t you Crowley?”

Normally he’d chastise you and point out all the things wrong in that sentence, but instead he just buries his face in your hair.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he sighs.

“I won’t, darling. Can I get up now, please?”

“Nooooooo,” is his response, and he grips you tighter. You resign yourself to your fate and settle in. It’s going to be a long night.

The next day he denies his behaviour up and down, but there’s no hiding the fact you woke up that morning in his arms.

-

Taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan @foolishprincipalitee

#crowley x reader #david tennant x reader #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #request

[shelbgrey]

Jack Hodgins Having a little sister:

Paring: Jack Hodgins x Little Sister!Reader

Summary: having Jack Hodgins as an over protective big brother and being 'queen of the lab'

A/n: this is short and kinda sucks. Request are open for bones.

💚MasterList 💚mood bord

Jack practically raised you, your parents did love you very much but they were always working and that's just how it was.

Intentionally or not your parents missed the little things, like school concerts or marching season when you were in the band, Jack didn't miss one and always there chearing you on.

Your just as, if not smarter than Jack, and like your big brother you showed interest in becoming a Forensic Entomologist like him. You always looked up to him and wanted to be like him.

The only difference is your more interested in the animal/reptile aspect than the bugs like he is.

Your office/lab is full of lizards and turantulas, and you've named all of them.

Your terrified song snakes though, you hate them with a passion and jack of course knows it and tries to keep the ones he has in the Lab away from you. It doesn't work sometimes.

“Jack there's a snake in my office!” you shouted standing on your wheely chair. Jack came running in to get ride of it. “it's just a black snake, he's more scared of you than you are of him”

He didn't say that to tease you, he just genuinely trying to reassure you so you won't panic all the time. “I beg to differ”

Your the youngest on the team putting you about 20 years old when you and team first started to work together.

With that, Jack is very protective of you and makes sure your shown the same respect he and the team are.

People and other people of science might underestimate you, your young and have tattoos and have a more goofy personality. Jack and the jeffersonian team will always have your back if it comes to people disrespecting you and your always proving the snobby scientists wrong.

You always feel safe with your brother, even in the most dangerous situation. When you and him were buried in the car by the Gravedigger you had absolute faith you'd get out of there, no matter how scared you were.

“We're gonna be okay...i promised mom I'd always protect you” he said.

You both got out with your friends family's help. Angela and Lance were waiting for you both and relieved to have you safe.

Speaking of Angela, she just like a big sister to you. You are both close and you feel you can always go to her for help.

Angela's dad, Billy is also loves you and is like a father to you. While he was putting the fear of god and tattooing Jack, he was showing you how to play guitar.

Even if you and Angela are close, Seeley is your best friend. While he teases Jack and calls him 'bug boy' he genuinely love you like a sister and doesn't mess with you.

Jack wanted to give an over protective big brother talk to Lance when you started dating, but he couldn't. He liked Lance to much and trusted him.

“just don't hurt her”

He walked you down the aisle at yours and Lance's wedding.

Your always involved with his experiments and it drives Cam crazy. She loves you usually let's you get away with it.

Since Jack is 'king of the lab' your the 'Queen of the lab'.

He's literally the coolest uncle ever and your like a second mother to Michael-Vincent.

You've always got each other's backs, you were there when he got put in his wheelchair and helped him learn how to deal with it.

Sometimes people don't understand how you two can be so close and not find each other annoying.

Jack could never get mad at you and if he does it doesn't last long.

Sometimes his over protectiveness gets annoying, but you know he means well.

“Hodgins have each other's backs no matter what” You guys always say.

#Jack Hodgins #Jack Hodgins x reader #Jack Hodgins x Sister!reader #Bones imagines #Bones headcanons #Jack Hodgins Headcanons #Lance Sweets #james aubrey x reader #Temperance Brennan #Bones TV show #Jeffersonian

[sweatandwoe]

Gravedigger reader x Terzo (maybe reader is not a sibling of sin but takes pride in their job?)

Thump.

It's a cold night when you first hear the noises. A soft thud when you pass by a newer grave, almost too quiet to hear. A gentle thud of what must have been a branch falling or a rock being swept by the wind. For there could've been nothing else.

You had seen what was in that glass coffin. It would be hard for the body to respond to movements when your head had been detached.

So you ignore the noise, thinking it must be something, perhaps even just a trick in your mind. You hadn't slept well last night or had your usual snack, that must've been it.

Ignoring it even as the noise carries, pounding in tune with your heart in a fearful melody.

Thump. Thump

And that works for the three days, but on the Fourth, you notice a figure as you approach the gravesite. There is no technical closing hour for a cemetery, so you just move down your path. It's only when you're close that you realize you don't hear it anymore.

When you glance at the figure, a white eye takes over your vision. The soft glow of it barely illuminates his face in the darkness.

And what a face it was. Pale, like a corpse, with black paint to give him a skull-like appearance. He's covered in dirt and wearing some robes, heavy and glimmering.

It's the man you buried not two weeks ago.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Excuse me," he starts, his voice hoarse and when he strains forward, you can see the golden thread connecting his head to his neck. "Amico mio, do you have a phone I could use?"

You stare at him, hand tightening around your shovel. It's hard to believe that he's standing before you, and you blink at him harshly. "I buried you."

"Yes." He blinks slowly, hands gripping the gravestone harshly. Either to keep his balance or some deeper emotion you're not sure, but the stone cracks under his grip. "If it helps, amico mio, you are probably the third one who has done so. Two weeks is the longest I've gone without causing any havoc. Bravo." The half-bow he gives is drenching in mockery, more so than his gaze.

The action has you reminded of your job. That, someone, had to respect the dead, even if he chose to not lay in his coffin anymore. "Stop that."

His lips curl, and you can see the hint of golden claws now, glinting while he stretches out his fingers. "Give me your phone."

You stare at him. Then realize, that this entire thing is stupid. There was no reason to fear because the dead do not come back to life. Whatever this was, was most likely some kind of prank set up on you. "I think I'll use it to call the police."

The dead man glares at you. You glare right back, shoving your flashlight under your elbow to fish out your phone. Showing him the screen, you dial 9-1, and then pause. He's still glaring at you but you finally arch a brow at him.

He stills after a moment. "You're not a church member."

You stare at him, brow furrowing. "No? I haven't said an Our Father in years."

The man, the corpse, whatever he was, winces. "Not that kind of church." There's a sigh, and he moves to rest against the stone.

Slowly you find your strength, raising your chin. "This is a horrible prank you know. There are people suffering, grieving and you choose to walk over this grave-"

When he glances up at you, his white eye had gone red. His voice has gone from a smooth tone into something deeper, darker. "I did not come here to desecrate the dead's resting place. I have returned from my own, and I will be given the proper respect." There's a light in the back of his throat, like fire when he speaks.

You stare at him, and after a moment he approaches. It's awkward, heavy steps like he isn't used to walking. Golden-clawed fingers pluck your phone out of your hands once he's close enough, quickly erasing the 9-1, and then sighing. "I don't know who to call this time."

For a moment you both say nothing, just glancing at each other. Your heart is too busy being in your throat, as the dead man just moves about like normal.

Finally, he speaks, "I apologize. I realize this must be a lot to take in. I should've controlled my temper better."

"Yeah." Your voice cracks when you speak, and he sighs.

The man moves in closer, brow furrowing while he got completely up in your personal space. His eyes narrow, and then raises a hand. One finger comes to your neck, resting gently against your pulse point.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump.

He draws his hand away like the final thump had burned him. Staring at his finger, before glancing back up at you. "Shit."

"What is it?"

"Something I can explain later." Closing his eyes, he mutters something about a Cardinal, and stupid dark magics, before mumbling other sentences in what you assume is Italian. "Is there a place to rest for now?"

You nod, still feeling in fear, and his hand circles your wrist while you lead him back to the staff area.

But you realize halfway there, why he had been so startled by your heartbeat. You can feel his, matching beat for beat, from where his fingers press in tightly against your wrist.

Well, at least you knew, he wasn't truly dead.

-

amico mio - my friend

#terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #first terzo fic #ghost band #the band ghost

[he-ate-with-the-wrong-people]

Friends with (Military) Benefits | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

au based off of the movie “purple hearts” (2022)

warnings: military (obvs), injury, minor violence and gore

read it on ao3

prologue

ACT I - FEEL IT STILL

goodbye to my hopes and dreams

mama, call the gravedigger

start flipping for my enemies

ACT II - SWEET CAROLINE I

when it began...

...i can’t begin to know when

but then i know it’s growing fast

chapters tba

ACT III - COME BACK HOME

chapters tba

ACT IV - I HATE THE WAY I

chapters tba

ACT V - BLUE SIDE OF THE SKY

chapters tba

ACT VI - I DIDN’T KNOW

chapters tba

ACT VII - I HATE THE WAY II

chapters tba

ACT VIII - SWEET CAROLINE II

chapters tba

epilogue

#jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #hangman seresin x reader #series #top gun maverick fanfiction #masterlist #fwmb

[honeypiehotchner]

Gravedigger’s Daughter (Hangman x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I play with Hangman’s backstory a LOT here lol fair warning. I’m not sure if he really got one in the movie or not (I don’t think he did), but I read that they asked Glen Powell to add some southern charm since he was raised in Texas, so I’ve been running with that. Anywho! Happy reading

Summary: You’re finally back in Fightertown to visit Penny and Amelia, but there also happens to be a group of aviators back at Top Gun. One of which who seems dead-set on wooing you.

Warnings: more shameless flirting, some angst if you squint really hard, and maaaayyybeee a sexy thought or two

WC: 3,498

You contemplate for hours about going back to The Hard Deck that night. But Amelia ends up spending the night at her friend’s house, so you almost have no choice. You can’t stay at home with her and watch movies, so naturally, Penny asks you to join her at the bar. And you’d look incredibly weird to say no.

No aviators are inside when you arrive, surprisingly, but you know they’ll all be along soon. But even without them, the place is packed.

“Hey,” Penny starts, pausing to breathe, “you know I’d never ask, but this was an unexpected rush--”

“Move over,” you laugh, walking around the bar. “What am I pouring?”

Penny smiles in relief and points you in the direction of some patrons she hasn’t gotten to yet.

It’s been a while since you’ve helped her here, but the role is easy enough to slip back into. People want their beer, and as long as you pour it, they’re happy campers. Bonus points if you flash a grin, engage in some small talk, and entertain some flirting from the men.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Penny says once the rush dies down somewhat.

“It’s no problem. How do you manage?” you ask genuinely, turning to someone who just approached the bar with an empty glass. “What’d you have?”

As you pour their refill, Penny answers you. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“Here you go,” you hand off the beer, turning back to Penny. “Well. I’m glad I came in when I did.”

“Me too,” she says. “Any idea where all the pilots are?”

“Oh, who knows,” you shrug. “Why? Looking for Mav?”

“Maybe,” she gives you a look, but then her eyes flick toward the door. “Speak of the devil.”

“And he shall appear,” you finish, turning your head to see Maverick has arrived. Along with Hangman, Rooster, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy. The whole entourage.

Everyone except Hangman walks to Penny’s side of the bar. Hangman, of course, comes straight to you.

“They’ll let anybody in here, huh?” you call out.

“Ouch,” Hangman replies, sidling up to the bar, resting his elbows on the wood. “That hurts, sweetheart.”

You smile. “What do you want?”

“One for me, one for you,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “The usual.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You trying to get your ass kicked again?”

“Maybe,” he muses. “How about you join us for a game of pool?”

“Hmm,” you think it over. “Teams or solo?”

“Whatever you want, darlin’.”

“Bad decision, Hangman,” Maverick comments from the other side of the bar.

“Oh, come on,” you retort. “I haven’t played pool in years, Mav.”

“I doubt that makes any difference,” Maverick replies, sliding onto a stool. “I’ll be keeping my ass up here.”

“Smart man,” Penny comments. “Your usual?”

“Please,” Mav says, smiling sweetly at her. It’s sickening.

“Alright, fine,” you bite, reaching down and grabbing two glasses. “We can play. But I’m supposed to be helping Pen.”

“The rush is done,” she chides. “Go have fun.”

“You heard her,” Hangman quips. “Come have some fun.”

You give him a look before turning around to pour two beers. You wouldn’t be entirely surprised if you turned back around to find he was staring at your ass. You hate that you don’t entirely mind if he is.

You spin back around and hand him his beer, tipping yours back for a drink. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are,” he replies, making you roll your eyes.

You pass the group of aviators and call out a hello, earning greetings in return. When they see where you’re headed and who’s in tow, you hear Fanboy say, “Ohhhh, shit.”

“Lemme guess,” you start, pausing to sit your beer on the windowsill. “You’re the best of the group?”

“How’d you know?” Hangman grins, grabbing a stick.

You take more time than needed picking out your stick and chalk. Maybe it’s hustling, but you’ll call it getting comfortable. “Just figured you’re trying to level the playing field after last night.”

“Maybe,” Hangman shrugs, grabbing chalk. “Want me to rack ‘em?”

“Ha, no,” you reply. “I’ve got it.”

“Please crush him,” Payback says.

“Don’t worry, I will,” you reply, grabbing the triangle rack. “8 ball, I’m assuming?”

You fill in the pool balls, making sure the 10 is in the middle of the third row. You put one on top of the second row, looking up at Hangman. He’s watching you closely, with something in his eyes you can’t quite place.

You jerk the rack and the ball jumps into the final hole, filling the rack and nestling tightly. One of the aviators whistles loudly. That’s a trick you didn’t have to do, but you definitely wanted to.

“Fuck,” Hangman mutters under his breath.

You pull the rack up and hang it back on the wall. “Your break.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, how kind of you,” Hangman smiles, placing the cue ball where he wants it. “Stripes or solids, honey?”

“Your break, Hangman,” you repeat. “Your pick.”

He shoots the ball forward, and immediately a stripe lands in the left corner pocket. “Stripes it is.”

“Stripes are unlucky if you ask me,” you grimace, watching him shoot again.

He lands another ball. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve only ever played solids,” you smirk.

Hangman lands another. “It’s looking pretty good to me.”

“For now.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Gladly,” you grin. He misses. “Ouch,” you echo him from earlier. “Sucks.”

“It’s alright,” Hangman replies, gesturing to the table. “Let’s see how you do.”

“Loser buys drinks?” you ask.

“Sounds good,” he says. “As long as you’re willing to spend some money.”

“Please,” you deadpan. “We’ll see about that.”

“Keep talkin’, honey,” Hangman smirks.

You take your shot and sink a solid pool ball. “That’s one.” You turn and sink another. “Two.” This time, you have to walk around and adjust, but you take another shot. “Three. Four. Should I go for five?”

“If you so desire,” Hangman replies through a clenched jaw. “My wallet is burning already.”

“That’s five,” you pause, looking up at him. “Six?”

He shrugs, but he’s biting back a smile, his tongue curled against his molars.

You purposefully miss the shot, deciding to back off a little. “Damn. Your turn.”

“I was just getting comfortable here,” he groans, feigning annoyance.

“Oh, so sorry,” you frown. “Miss your shot and you can get comfortable again.”

“Nice try,” he replies sweetly, bending down to shoot. “Damn. You messed up the board, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say through a laugh. You grab your beer and take a sip, watching him adjust to get a better angle. He bends over and his pants stretch against his ass. You look for just a little too long and—

“Like what you see?”

Your eyes snap to his and his cocky smile. “Nope.”

He shakes his head. “Dear Lord, woman.” He takes the shot, almost sinking a stripe, but it bounces.

“You’re not doing too good tonight,” you comment.

“You fluster me, sweetheart,” he replies, holding out his arms. “What can I say?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoot and sink your sixth. “One left.”

“Then the 8,” Hangman adds.

“Yes, I know,” you mock. You sink your seventh solid. “Shall I go for the 8?”

“Go ahead,” Hangman says. “I’ve already accepted that I’ll be buying another round.”

You take your shot and the 8 sinks right into the hole. “Looks like you’re right.”

He hangs his head in defeat. “Alright then.” He rests his pool stick against the wall. “Let’s go.”

You turn and see another wave of people entering the bar. “Actually, I probably need to see if Penny needs any help.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Hangman takes your stick and rests it next to his. “Come on.”

You give him a stern look. “Don’t make me ring the bell on you.”

“I’d never disrespect you, darlin’,” he grins.

You walk off before he can catch your smile.

Penny wasn’t going to ask for your help, but you give her no choice before you begin pouring drinks and handing off glasses to impatient customers.

Hangman stays true to his word (not that you were worried) and keeps his mouth shut at the bar. You don’t even realize that you haven’t given him a refill until many minutes have passed.

“Shit, sorry,” you grab his glass. “Totally forgot we came up here for refills.”

“It’s alright, you’re busy,” he replies. “You look good up there.”

You slide his glass across the bar, fighting back a smile, honing your scolding glare instead. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he winks, raising his glass to toast you.

Once the rush dies down again, you stay to help clean glasses. Penny is at the other end of the bar, talking to Maverick, of course. Hangman has remained on this one stool at your end, sipping his beer quietly. His friends have moved to the pool table, and you thought surely he’d join them, but he hasn’t.

“You grew up here?” he asks, though it’s posed more as a statement.

“Yep,” you reply. You evaded his small talk all night so far. It’s no wonder he’d choose this moment to weasel it in. “Moved here when I was just a year old. That’s when my dad was called to Top Gun.”

“Wow,” Hangman says slowly. “You never thought about joining the Navy?”

“Please,” you give him a look, then shake your head. “Absolutely not. It’s not for me.”

“Understandable,” he shrugs. “It’s not for everyone.”

“Is it for you?”

“It’s in my blood,” he says, not mocking, this time more matter-of-fact. “My father was in the Navy, so was his father. My mother’s father as well.”

“Wow,” you reply. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Why would I be?” he sounds defensive, understandably.

“Most guys who say the Navy is ‘in their blood,’” you use air quotes, rolling your eyes. “They’re full of shit. It’s not in their blood; it’s in their ego. There’s a difference. Those guys are absolute jackasses. My dad worked with quite a few.”

“Oh,” he nods. “You can sniff out the bullshit then.”

“From a mile away,” you add, grabbing another glass to wipe down. “You’re cocky, but you’re serious about what you do. I can tell.”

“A compliment like that from Gravedigger’s daughter?” Hangman whistles lowly. “I’ll drink to that.” He takes a long sip, then says, “Wanna join me for some darts?”

You’re mid-pouring yourself a beer and you shake your head. “You never learn, do you?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, grinning wildly. “And I hope I never do.”

+++

When Hangman finally returns to the barracks at Top Gun, the entire team is camped out in the hallway, outside their respective doors.

“Hangman came home alone again for the second night in a row? Say it ain’t so!”

“I don’t need a song, Fanboy,” Hangman scowls. “What are you all doing out here?”

“Waiting on you,” Coyote says.

“We figured you’d have someone with you,” Payback chimes.

“Where is she?” Phoenix asks.

“At Penny’s, I guess,” Hangman replies, turning toward his door. “When did you become so concerned about who I sleep with? Usually you’re complaining that it’s too loud.” He plasters his famous shit-eating grin on his face, hoping it’ll make them let this go. But it doesn’t.

“That’s just it,” Rooster speaks up. “It’s been quiet.”

“Too quiet,” Bob adds. “It’s weird.”

“Seriously?” Hangman laughs. “Well, if you have to know, Y/N is not here and will not be here. Is that better?”

“Whatever,” Phoenix shrugs, still looking skeptical. “Something’s up with you.”

“Nothing is up with me,” Hangman replies, quickly growing defensive. “I’m getting some sleep. We’ve got another long day tomorrow.”

A chorus of “goodnight’s” follow him into his room until he shuts the door.

It’s true, he’s the Flirt of the group. Even when they were going through Top Gun together, no one said a word about it. Hangman figured this time around would be the same. He’d fly under the radar as he spent so much time with you. No one would think anything of it.

But this change in behavior is suspicious enough for his fellow pilots to catch on. Now they’re certain something is up with him, and well, they’d be right.

The only thing up with Hangman is you. Just, you. He can’t get you out of his head. Ever since you walked into The Hard Deck two days ago, he’s been off his game. Or at least, he’s felt like it.

No one has ever flustered him this way. You spar with him verbally, dodging all his charm and throwing some back at him. You’re quick on your feet, a menace at darts and pool. You understand the life he leads, on a level he didn’t comprehend until tonight. You’re everything he’s been waiting for, everything he’s wanted, and yet.

You’re unavailable. You’ve made it clear that it’ll never happen, that you won’t let it.

You didn’t say you couldn’t be friends, though, so that’s what Hangman has been trying to do, even though he has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to be “just friends” — not with someone like you.

But if that’s what he has to do to see you more before you go back to San Diego, and he goes on this mission next week, then he’ll do it. He’ll do whatever you want him to.

+++

You spend the next evening with Amelia, which means you aren’t at The Hard Deck.

Penny texts you and tells you that Hangman is looking for you, but you don’t reply to her. Amelia asked to watch a rom-com, so that’s exactly what you do.

The two of you definitely stay up a little too late considering she has school the next morning, but you don’t care. You know Penny doesn’t mind. But at breakfast the next morning, you pour Amelia a cup of coffee that isn’t decaf.

Naturally, you find yourself at The Hard Deck for the day, helping out Penny with whatever she needs.

The aviators don’t show, but you aren’t surprised. One day of beach football is probably enough, before Maverick gets in trouble even more. You can hear the jets, though, so you know they’re doing maneuvers.

It’s incredibly soothing to hear the engines. You’ve missed it.

The way they rip through the air, rattling your brain. It never terrified you, not even when you were younger.

You can still hear them in San Diego, but it isn’t the same as being here, being this close.

It’s a stupid idea, but part of you wants to see if Maverick might let you visit Top Gun, just for a day. Just to walk around the tarmac, see the planes, feel their wings. Nothing crazy.

“Hey, weird question,” you blurt, getting Penny’s attention. She lifts her head, listening. “Would Mav let me visit Top Gun?”

“Why?” Penny starts to smile.

“Not that,” you chuckle, knowing her mind has gone right to Hangman. “I just miss the planes, I don’t know. I didn’t want to ask him if it’s not allowed. Things have changed since I was a kid.”

Penny smiles sympathetically now, understanding. “He’d love to have you.”

“Maybe once they’re done with whatever they’re here for,” you suggest. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

Penny shrugs. “It’s worth asking. You never know.”

So, you do.

Maverick shows up first, unsurprisingly. He says the rest of the crew are on their way, which you don’t doubt, but you’re glad for a moment alone with him, with no one listening in.

“Quick question,” you start, and Mav raises his eyebrows. “Feel free to say no, by the way,” you add.

“Now you’ve got me worried,” he chuckles. “Spit it out.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing at Top Gun or why, and I know I’m not allowed to know — I’m not asking. I just was wondering if it was possible to visit. Just for an hour, maybe.” He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “I miss the jets, Mav. I miss them like hell. It’s been so long, and hearing them today,” you pause, shrugging. “It’s stupid, but I feel like I need to hug one.”

Finally, Maverick grins. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he replies. “I’ll make a call right now, see if we can’t get you over there tomorrow once we’re done training. I don’t see why it would be an issue.”

“Don’t get yourself in trouble,” you warn.

“Oh yeah,” Maverick laughs. “They’ll love to have you.”

You punch his shoulder and walk off, back to the bar with Penny. True to his word, Maverick steps outside with his phone pressed to his ear.

“Where’s he going?” Penny asks, nodding toward Mav.

“Making some calls,” you explain. “Looks like I might be going to Top Gun tomorrow.”

“Atta girl,” Penny smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Ah, your favorite has arrived.”

“My fav—? Hangman,” you deadpan, looking up to see he’s making a beeline for you.

“Hey honey,” he says, leaning on the bar top with that stupid grin of his. “Where were you yesterday?”

“Watching a rom-com and stuffing my face with ice cream.”

Hangman looks genuinely hurt. “And you didn’t invite me?”

“I was with my niece, idiot,” you laugh. “You miss me or something?”

“Only every minute,” he winks. “You gonna let me buy you a drink tonight?”

“I’ll never say no to free beer.”

“My kind of woman.”

“Your kind of woman is one who breathes.”

“Your point? Are you not breathing?”

You stare at him tiredly, and he starts laughing. The sound is so sweet that you want to shove him, but you don’t. Instead, you pour two beers and walk around the bar, taking the stool next to him.

“How was your day?” you ask, surprising yourself.

“Pretty good, kicked some ass,” he grins. “Maneuvers went well.”

“I could hear you guys,” you reply. “I forgot how soothing it is.”

“To hear the jets?” he questions, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod seriously. “It’s my favorite thing. I would fall asleep quicker with the jets than I would a lullaby when I was a kid.”

“Damn,” Hangman shakes his head, grinning wide before sipping his beer.

“I told you I grew up in this world,” you reply, just a little confused by his reaction.

“It’s hot.”

“Careful,” you warn.

“Alright, alright,” he backs off. “I won’t say it. I’ll just think it.”

You give him another tired stare, but he winks. You wonder if that’s his way of saying you’re hot again, but without words.

Maverick renters the bar with a triumphant smile, coming straight to where you and Hangman are sitting.

“Well,” Mav starts. “An old friend said he’d like to see you tomorrow.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Who?”

“Rear Admiral Solomon,” Mav says, waiting for it to dawn on you. “Or call sign—”

“Warlock? He’s a Rear Admiral now? I didn’t know he was back here,” your thoughts come out fast. You haven’t spoken to any of your dad’s buddies in years, with Warlock, it’s been even longer. Probably since you were 13.

“Hang on,” Hangman interjects, holding up his hand, his fingers just barely brushing your arm. “Are you coming to Top Gun tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” you say.

“Yes,” Maverick says instead. “She is. But not until after training.” He turns to you. “I’ll text you when to head over.”

“Okay, thanks,” you murmur.

Part of you didn’t expect them to allow it, especially given Maverick’s reputation. Apparently yours as the Gravedigger’s daughter outweighs his trouble-inclined attitude. But now that you have the go ahead, you’re suddenly nervous.

“So,” Hangman says, sounding a little too excited. “Can I give you a personal tour?”

“That’s a great idea,” Maverick says, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuck off,” you swat at Mav, who laughs and walks away, heading toward Penny. You look at Hangman skeptically. “You want to give me a tour?”

He puts a hand over his heart. “It would be an honor.”

“I grew up there. I don’t need a tour.”

Hangman sputters for a moment. “Well—”

“I’m teasing,” you nudge his arm. “Sure. If I can handle it, I’d love for you to walk around with me.”

“Music to my ears, sweetheart,” he replies.

“Mhm,” you raise your eyebrows. “Until you realize I know more than you.”

You expect that to start another round of bickering between the two of you, but it doesn’t. Hangman’s reply surprises you. “I already know you do.”

His admittance and blatant honesty makes you smile, and dammit, sit a little closer.

You’re already going back on your own rules, but you can’t help it. Your time is limited here. The end of your time off from work is fastly approaching. You’d rather spend it happily than be miserable, even if that means getting too friendly with a naval aviator who you know is no good for you.

#gravedigger’s daughter #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin x fem!reader #hangman top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x you

[solacestyles]

ꖛ ─ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘’𝐬 𝐑𝐄𝐂 ❜ post 1

*- personal favorite

…- unfinished

─ 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐆𝐔𝐍

ʙʀᴀᴅʟᴇʏ ‘ʀᴏᴏsᴛᴇʀ’ ʙʀᴀᴅsʜᴀᴡ

do you regret it?

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ‘ʜᴀɴɢᴍᴀɴ’ sᴇʀᴇsɪɴ

save a jet, ride a pilot

ice, ice, baby*

all this time

they all know, he’s in love with you

secret girlfriend

hangman being caught leaving your room

we used to be in love …

gravedigger’s daughter* (chapters)

ʀᴏʙᴇʀᴛ ‘ʙᴏʙ’ ғʟᴏʏᴅ

the captain’s daughter

of gym buddies and overlapping schedules, part 2*

with certainty

baby on board

─ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

how you get the guy

summer revelations*

invading my senses

what great men say

that’s what friends do

cake, part 2

sɪʀɪᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ

your dog

i always was

cause i don’t want you like a best friend

a moment

ʀᴇᴍᴜs ʟᴜᴘɪɴ

spilling beer and secrets, dear!

an inappropriate incident*

that cursed, darned b-word

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

two losses that earned

chasing pavements

just like them

howlers*

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀsʟᴇʏ

your lover

ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀsʟᴇʏ

little miss perfect*

ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ

i kissed you dumbass

you think so?

skin*

boggart*

promised

resistance, part 2

a love like in the tales, part 2

in love*

you have a beautiful smile

sʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ ʙᴏʏs

the only heaven i’ll be sent to

never have i ever

guilty pleasures*

cursed feelings

most beautiful time of the year

crystal talk*

bleeding hearts, part 2, part 3*

strings, part 2

invisible string*

august, part 2*

new year’s day

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

paranoia

from eden

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀsʟᴇʏ

will you paint my nails?

another howler

tolerate it

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

not named (1)

not named (2)

─ 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍

ᴀɴᴛʜᴏɴʏ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇʀᴛᴏɴ

right in front of me*

illicit affairs

not so bad

ɢʀᴇɢᴏʀʏ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇʀᴛᴏɴ

blotter

ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ғʀɪᴇᴅʀɪᴄʜ

the queens plan

amore e psiche, part 2, part 3

woven in the stars

─ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴsᴏɴ

opposites attract

dealers choice, part 2, part 3

you made me hate this city

the metal head and the material girl, part 2

hellfire baby*

kiss me

─ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs

no questions asked

coward

─ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

ᴛᴏᴍᴍʏ sʜᴇʟʙʏ

‘til summer comes around

─ 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

ᴛᴏᴍ ʜᴏʟʟᴀɴᴅ

meet me halfway

i swear to god i never fall in love

ceo!tom

broken hearts and empty cups

torn leaves, broken hearts*

the fame game*

ʜᴀʀʀʏ sᴛʏʟᴇs

reasons to hate you

#hendallreunited

famous harry x influencer reader, part 2

sorry to bother you*

#darcyrec

[shuichisweave]

Could we get some Andrew domestic deadcannons? I loved the last ones you did a lot djdbsjwksnbsjsj

andrew kreiss domestic hcs

Andrew has been constantly outcast by an ignorant society that only views him for his condition and not for his heart or character.

When you came into the picture you stood out to him. He had always admired you from afar, and when you had finally come around and approached him, he was overcome with joy he hadn’t felt in years.

You had gone through that absolutely awful stage of “What were the two of you?” Were you his friend? Definitely. Were you his partner? He really couldn’t be sure. But he eventually gained enough courage to pop the question one day. Of course you told him that you were his girlfriend (obviously).

Now that you’ve been together for a while things have become so simple for you two.

Andrew loves going shopping with you, whether for groceries, for gifts, or for a new outfit for you, he is more than willing and happy to tag along and help you with anything you need. He absolutely hates crowds so you always wake up bright and early so he can go and shop with you. Even if he gets some stares, he know he can rely on you to make him feel understood and recognized

He’s such a homebody. Honestly he’s a model househusband. He’s had to take care of himself for a very long time so he’s used to housework and such. Any food that you want he can and will cook it right up for you. Of course you take care of him too, making sure he comes home safe after a night out in the graveyard.

Just because he’s a 6’1 pile of grave-digging muscle, doesn’t mean he can’t use a break every now and then. When his back and shoulders are sore and aching from work, you swoop in and give him back massages. Of course with you leaving little kisses on his neck while you do so.

He’s an absolute blushing stuttering mess when you’re through with him. Even if you’ve been together for years he is always flustered when you tease him or flirt.

ty for giving my writing so much love! if you're a recurring anon please distinguish yourself by using an emoji and request from me at any time!!

#idv andrew x reader #identity v headcanons #identity v x reader #idv x reader #gravedigger x reader #gravedigger idv #idv fanfic #idv fanfiction #idv fandom #identity v #andrew kreiss #idv grave keeper

[bi-bard]

don't want no other shade of blue but you - Seeley Booth Imagine (Bones)

Title: don't want no other shade of blue but you

Pairing: Seeley Booth X Reader

Requested: by a reader on AO3

Word Count: 706 words

Warning(s): mentions of kidnapping and past break-up

Summary: (Aftermath of Season 4, Episode 13) Feelings are reevaluated after Booth is kidnapped by the Gravedigger.

Author's Note: This is a part two to the Booth imagine I wrote in connection to my folklore/evermore writing challenge.

Find part one here!

----------------------------------

I looked at the mess in my lab with a sigh.

It had been a tense case. Far more tense than usual.

Seeley had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger. Hodgins and Brennan were intense because of their history with the killer, but the rest of us were also terrified.

My brain was racing.

I was hoping that it all would've ended once we knew Booth was found. He was alive and he was safe.

But it didn't.

That feeling of dread; that pit in my stomach; just wouldn't go away. It wasn't going to go away until I got to see him properly. Being told he was okay was one thing; seeing that he was okay was different.

I did the only thing I could think of.

I cleaned. I cleaned and organized and documented. Made sure every piece of evidence was safely put away, so we knew it was ready for the inevitable court case.

"(Y/n)," I looked over at Sweets, standing in the doorway of my part of the lab.

"Sweets," I nodded as a small greeting, putting a few more folders into the filing cabinet.

"How are you feeling," he asked.

"Better," I confirmed, lying through my teeth.

"You're lying to me," he called it immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I just need to know he's okay," I replied. "See it with my own eyes. And I can't do that yet."

"(Y/n)," Sweets stepped forward. "I'm gonna ask you something and I don't want you to rip my head off."

"Don't tempt me," I tried to ease the tension.

"Do you still love Booth," he asked.

I was about to deny it, but I just clenched my jaw. I couldn't.

"You do-"

"It won't work out," I cut him off. "I learned that the hard way."

"Booth isn't the same man he was then," Sweets argued. "You're scared. I understand that. But are you going to ever get over any of it without giving it a shot?"

I stayed silent again.

"Just consider it," Sweets suggested, touching my upper arm for a moment. "I have a feeling that Booth wants to try too."

"'A feeling'," I repeated.

"He told me," Sweets explained. I nodded and chuckled. "Don't tell him that I told you."

"Because he carries a gun," I asked.

"That's definitely part of it."

I laughed again, looking down.

"Thank you for that, Sweets."

"You're welcome," he replied. "I'll leave you to your cleaning."

He sent a wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

I continued my cleaning.

You probably could've eaten straight off of one of my tables and been happy with it.

I was just throwing away the pile of papers where I had written theories and equations before I scraped them and threw them to the side. Then, I heard footsteps outside my door.

I looked up to see Seeley limping toward the room.

"Seeley," I shouted, dropping the recycling bin and sprinting over to him.

"(Y/n)- woah-"

I almost knocked him over as I ran into him to hug him.

"Hey, I'm okay," he mumbled as he hugged me tightly. "I'm right here. Look at me," he moved back so he could cup the sides of my face, "I'm okay."

I let out a sigh and grinned at him, "Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"I wanted to see you," he replied. "I remembered you said that you had trouble just believing that someone you cared about was okay."

My eyebrows furrowed for a moment. How much had he taken the time to remember?

"You need to see a doctor," I muttered, brain becoming slightly foggy as I realized he was still holding my face.

He chuckled, "I will. I promise."

We both paused for a moment. A long moment.

Hesitantly, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. His hands moved from my face to my back, pulling me closer.

I pulled away first, resting my forehead against his.

"I missed that," he mumbled. I chuckled.

"So did I."

We stood there for a few moments longer.

"Come on," I said, stepping back. "Let's get you to a hospital."

He nodded before taking my hand, "This okay?"

I looked down at our hands, "Yeah... it's perfect."

----------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

#bones imagine #bones fanfiction #bones x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #seeley booth fanfiction #seeley booth x reader #seeley booth imagine

[xvreadsbooks]

The Bond - azriel

azriel x gn reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: blood, cursing, kidnapping

The reader is a healer & Rhysand's sister during the human versus fae war 500 years before acotar takes place

The silence on the battlefield was mind-numbing, broken only by the sounds of birds sweeping across the field of corpses.

Carefully I picked my across the ground, my boots squelching with each footstep on the damp dirt. Not unlike the vultures circling above the mounds of bodies, I too sifted through the deceased. The Fae corpses I left with markers for the gravediggers to retrieve, and for those who still clung to life I did my best to safe. With soothing magic, I eased the path of those near the end of this life.

The humans I passed over – their wide eyes pleading and fingers grasping at the heels of my boots. It was a cruel practice, and their faces would haunt me late at night, but I knew greeting death here would be far better than whatever life they might find in the Fae encampment as a prisoner, prey, or someone's disposable toy.

Besides, we were at war.

My gaze drifted back to the ocean of tents stretching as far I could see just as a unit of Illyrians took to the skies. Soul aching, I turned back to my work, my body carrying on automatically even as my mind drifted towards the clouds.

////

Azriel and Cassian searched me out once the fighting was over, relief washing over their features as our gazes met across the medical tent, the trio did this after every battle and although it warmed my heart, I did not know how to tell them the ridiculousness of it. They were the ones fighting on the frontlines, I was just a healer in a tent miles from the clash. It should be the other way around.

I peered around their shoulders waiting for Rhysand to appear from the crowd. Only once I caught a clear glimpse of their faces, my heart sunk.

The two grim-faced Illyrians made their way across the tent as quickly and unobtrusively as their large frames allowed. Scrubbing my hands clean in a nearby tub, I left my patient in the hands of an assistant and rushed to meet them halfway.

Sweeping my gaze across their mud-splattered, blood-covered armor I immediately began triaging the wounds I found just as I had done for each soldier that entered the tent. It was purely on instinct after the large number of consecutive hours spent deep in my work under the same canvas ceiling. But other than a few shallow cuts and scrapes they seemed fine, and any blood on them smelled human.

Azriel reached me first, his hand drifting towards me before he pulled it back to his side, his face turning away quickly. It stung and I wanted nothing more than to reach out and make sure he was okay, but no – now was not the time to brood over past mistakes choices or hurt feelings.

I pinned my gaze on Cassian. "Where's Rhysand?"

////

Our last conversation was hours ago. Cassian and Az departed with quick farewells to prepare search parties and I was alone again - left behind as usual. They ignored my pleas using the excuse that it was too dangerous and my expertise was needed here.

And I let them, because I knew what none of us were saying: if Rhysand was really dead, then I was the last of my family line.

However as soon as they left the other healers quickly pushed me from the tent once it became clear I was in no place of mind to focus in the high-stress environment. It bothered me less than being left behind because it was true. But it was impossible to focus when my heart thoughts were miles away.

Wandering in the direction I had not yet searched, I found myself in a copse of trees kneeling in the mud at the side of a deceased Illyrian. Heart in my throat, I gently rolled the body onto its side.

His dark eyes, blank and clouded, are the last thing I would remember.

////

The first thing I noticed was the cold. It was bone chilling, blood-freezing – the sort of cold I remembered from my childhood visits to the Illyrian mountains. The type of bitter chill Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian had grown up in.

Cassian used to laugh at me while I shivered beneath the protection of Azriel's coat and Rhys's magic. He would offer me his body warmth to warm me up with a few flirtatious winks until my brother would hit him.

I shivered as the memories faded, the iron chains around my wrists and ankles clashing in an awful grating noise as I folded my body in on itself to keep in as much body heat as possible.

A short distance from me a group of human soldiers clustered around a fire turned to look in my direction. Seeing me conscious, one of them rose to their feet and ducked inside a tent, returning quickly with a tall man. With his decorated uniform and the cleanliness of his hands I knew he was the man in charge.

He strode with purpose around the firepit, coming to a stop in front of my face. Somehow he managed to look down on me and still keep the narcissistic tilt of his chin. "You're one of those..." He paused and from the look on his face I wondered if he would be sick right there on his shiny boots. "...Fae healers, yes?"

Questioning what sort of plan he was brewing I stared at him, the miserable cold and the lingering shock making it hard to form coherent, connecting thoughts.

He frowned, forcing me to roll onto my back with a hard nudge from his boot. "You live or die at my word, animal. Remember this before you answer dishonestly."

I licked my lips, begging my voice not to break as I responded honestly – yes. My powers had always been inclined towards medicine much to the chagrin of my warrior father.

The leader tilted his head in my direction and the two soldiers hauled me to my feet by my armpits. They half dragged, half walked me across the camp to a thick group of trees where a lone figure knelt strung up between trees, head bowed, Illyrian wings tucked tightly.

Rhysand.

My captors let go of me, dropping me unceremoniously into the dirt before my High Lord, my brother, the only blood I had left.

Every inch of exposed skin was covered in his own blood – the smell was overwhelming – and a steady stream of droplets fell to the earth and splattered on the damp leaves below. Smeared with mud and blood, the stark lines of the tattoos inked above his knees seemed to mock us both.

Wild and red-hot anger rumbled through me, heating my skin, and warm tears blurred my vision. I wanted to rip them all apart for what they had done and stain the leaves a brighter, fresh shade of red.

No.

Reining in the wave of emotions I hid them deep in my heart – somewhere the mortals would never find. They were fond of saying we were heartless creatures.

Control yourself. Think. Find a way out. At the least, give Azriel and Cassian time to find you. For Rhysand.

Do it for your family.

The leader's footfalls felt like eternity as he approached Rhysand.

Would he see any resemblance between us? Or did he already know?

Rhysand's eyes fluttered open, and a sigh of relief slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. He was alive.

He blinked as our eyes met, alarm flaring through the familiar violet. Snarling at the man in front of him, the chains rattled as his arms strained against their iron fetters.

"Keep this Fae alive," The man commanded me, gripping Rhysand's chin tightly to stop his movement, "and he will keep you alive in turn by answering our questions." Releasing his grip, another soldier took his place in front of my brother.

Rhys had always been the protective older brother – even forcing Azriel and Cassian to promise never to court me. His exact words were, "Unless you're mates, I never want to see either of your dirty paws touching Y/N."

My stomach rolled as the torturer began sorting through his tools.

Rhys, it is my turn to protect you.

I'll find us a way out of here and then we'll find our family.

We will end this ridiculous war and go home.

////

I wanted us all to be together again one last time. I dreamed about our home and Velaris every night and daydreamed so often it was bleeding my days and real memories together.

I wanted to hear Cassian's laughter. With the war it had been too long since I saw real light fill his eyes.

I wanted to watch Rhysand change the Night Court and then the world.

I wanted to be by Morrigan's side as she grew and healed in the real Night Court - the Court of Dreams.

I just wanted Azriel to take my hand.

The only time I had with Rhysand was usually after a particularly vicious session. As awful as it was I looked forward to tending to his wounds, because then at least I knew he was not bleeding out alone in the frozen forest.

That was the only time I had with him. Unless I needed to relieve myself, I was left in a tent, forced to listen to everything they inflicted on him. Alone with my thoughts I thought up a hundred plans, scenarios, strategies, but the chains never came off, there was never an attack by our forces, and the guards would beat me unconscious if I spoke a single word.

I tried many times.

The two of us flirted with a dangerous line, death hovering around every sun rise. Rhysand literally, his life force waning with each new day under the cruel hands of the soldiers. For me, I could see the decision to rid the camp of its two fae prisoners lingering in the leader's eyes each time Rhys's answers became less and less satisfying. We were running out of time.

I wanted to see Azriel one more time.

I wish he had taken my hand just once.

Forget the bond, we should have run away and saw the world like we talked about a hundred times.

Where are you, Azriel?

////

I thought I was still dreaming as my eyes watched the back of the tent open and Azriel slipped soundlessly inside. Struck mute, silent tears streamed down my face. His small smile was so tender, so soft, I thought I would break as his hand gently cupped my face. There were so many things I wanted to say.

He raised my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the palm that left my heart barely beating. I do not think my voice would work if I tried to speak.

"Rhysand." He murmured, his shadows swirling to protect us from eavesdropping ears.

Wordlessly, I pointed towards the spot they kept Rhysand bound. He nodded, slowly releasing my hand. Before he could pull away, I gripped his hand with both of mine. Please don't go.

"I'm coming back to you," He promised, leaving a soul-rending kiss on my forehead. His thumb stroked my cheekbone, smudging the salty tears and grime on my skin. "And then not even you will be able to keep me from your side."

He pulled his hand from my grip and I watched him and his shadows fade into the darkness. He glanced back once, and in his hazel irises I saw reflected the same empty pain I felt.

I laid down, alone once more, overanalyzing every sound I heard until suddenly the camp roared to life with sounds of battle and soon Azriel was standing in the entrance, a pair of keys jingling in one hand.

He started with the manacles on my wrists, his touch careful against the raw skin as he moved on to the chains around my feet. I stood, taking his offered hand and following him from the tent into the night air.

Around us the humans were quickly failing under the night of the Far and Azriel’s grip on me was secure, but my thoughts raced as we passed tent after tent, and eventually I stopped moving altogether.

"Azriel," I called his name quietly, our joined hands tugging him to a stop. He turned to face me, his brow furrowed in question. I knew we were in the middle of a rescue mission, a war, and I was filthy, and this was quite possibly the worst time to talk about anything, but I could not let us go back to whatever we were before.

Whatever limbo from hell that was.

I stepped closer, giving him time to pull away before placing my mouth on his. I wound my fingers in his hair; his hands settling on my waist before drifting to my back as he pulled me even closer.

The mating bond snapped into place quietly, like it was pretending to have been there all along. It was unlike anything I could imagine and yet somehow everything I ever dreamed of. The soul I felt connected to mine I already knew as well as my own. It was vast and shadowed and warm and familiar – home. It was Azriel.

"Fucking finally."

I heard someone groan and disentangled myself from Azriel long enough to see Rhysand standing. Leaning on Cassian's shoulder, his tired violet eyes flickering in the light of the rising sun, but standing.

He was okay. We were okay. They had come for us.

I smiled at Cassian, his smile infectious.

The moment was broken by Azriel’s low growl of warning when Cassian took a step in my direction, my mate shifting in front of me protectively.

Cassian's mouth twisted into a smirk and Rhysand groaned, his nose wrinkling, "I cannot wait for this phase to be over and I'm not sure whether to be extremely happy or completely disgusted by that."

thanks for reading!

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel x gn!reader #azriel x gender neutral reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fic #azriel fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger fluff #fluff #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar series #acowar #acomaf #acotar x you #acotar x gender neutral reader #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagines

[m-jelly]

Hi Jelly! I loved the fic "Forgiveness is hard", it's heartbreaking yet I liked the fact that they found each other again. May I request for a spin-off and a sequel in one by it? Which how did Levi mourned and grieved all those years when he thought the reader was dead? Like visiting her false grave with only her arm buried down in it? Reminiscing their memories alone, crying days and nights whenever he thinks his last treatment of her? And sequel when they were finally have their own family but sometimes reader is distant because of bad memories and Levi would reassure her that he would not hurt her again. Hope it's not too much to ask for this and thank you Jelly, xoxo 💙

Sure! I'll put both in here. The spin-off of Levi in the time he thinks you're dead, as well as the sequel. I'll split them as well so you can see the two.

Forgiveness is hard. Spin-off and Sequel.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Concept 1: Spin-off = What went on for Levi during the years that Levi thought you were dead. He visits your grave and is plagued by your hurt face and his wicked words.

Concept 2: Sequel = The war is over, you and Levi are married with kids. You're living a happy life with him, but you sometimes get nightmares and bad memories coming back from the past. Levi reassures you that his love is strong and he'd never hurt you again.

This story contains post-war Levi in, so spoilers.

Spin-off

Levi walked with his squad and friends as they moved the coffins of fallen soldiers. He had a lot of loss this time, a lot of dead people he cared for, but the one that hurt the most was you. He only had an arm and your ring. He clutched his necklace with your ring on.

He stood at the side of your grave and watched them lower your coffin down into the grave. He welled up and clenched up, then dove for you but Hange held him back. He tried to pull from her grip, but she held on and wouldn't let him jump into the grave.

Levi dropped to his knees as they threw dirt on your grace to bury you. "Stop! Stop it! Don't bury her! She'll be cold and dirty if you do."

Hange placed her hand on Levi's shoulder and spoke to the gravedigger. "Keep going. He hasn't expected his loss yet."

Levi doubled over and shook. "She'll be so cold and lonely."

Hange knelt next to Levi. "She won't be lonely if you visit her every day."

Levi nodded. "Yeah, every day." He stared at your grave. "Could you leave us alone?"

"Yes."

He gazed at your name on the headstone and felt his heart breaking. He cried your name, then put his head in his hands. He stayed by you until Hange collected him after a few hours. When Levi got back to the base, he had to face his room and all the things said there.

'So, you’re telling me I’ve been fucking a disgusting piece of shit titan all this time?'

He winced at his words as they echoed in the room and his mind.

'You disgust me! You are your people.'

Levi couldn't go a day without hearing something in his head about the things he's said to you. He hated himself for how he treated you. He wish he did better. He wished he would have just listened to you.

'Why would I want anything to do with Titan scum like you? Just touching you I’d have to scrub my body raw to get rid of the filth that comes off you.'

He couldn't sleep without remembering your broken and hurt expression. His head would make up scenes of how you faced your end, what you were thinking, things you might have said. His heart ached.

'Titans don’t have hearts! You couldn’t possibly love anyone or anything. You’re a disgusting beast that just takes from everyone and everything around you!'

He would sit in his office and see you around the room. He'd remember how you'd bring him tea, you'd give him random hugs and kisses. He remembered how he had you bent over his desk moaning his name. He'd go for walks and felt you walking right next to him. He'd look ahead and see you sprint, then twirl around and talk to you with a smile on your face.

Levi's visions became almost real that he reached out for you once, but you disappeared. He sat at his desk working one day and swore he heard your laugh in the hall. He threw his door open and made two scouts jump. He apologised and returned to his desk.

He sat there a little longer and heard movement in his bedroom. He perked up at hearing your sweet voice saying his name. He followed the voice and opened the bedroom to find it cold, dark and lonely. He searched for you and found an old jumper of yours. He picked it up, then pressed his face into it and felt his tears well up.

He sobbed your name. "I miss you. I'm so sorry."

Sequel

You walked out of the house with a tray with drinks and snacks, as well as medication. You smiled at your son and daughter running around together, then at Levi in his wheelchair with your baby girl on his lap. Isabel, Furlan and Hange were so precious and you named them to honour those you'd lost. Your intention with Levi was to have Erwin, Kuchel and a Mike.

You placed the tray down on the table next to Levi. "Here's your meds honey."

Levi smiled at you. "Thank you."

You leaned down and kissed Levi, then you kissed your baby Hange's head making her hum. "Love you both."

"We love you too."

You crouched and massaged his knee as your baby girl patted your face with her hands. "How's your knee now?"

He smiled at you. "Better. I think by tonight I'll be running around with the kids."

You leaned up and kissed him. "I told you to slow down this morning and last night."

Levi blushed. "I love my wife, okay?"

You giggled, then attacked your daughter's face with loving kisses making her squeal with laughter. "Little monster." You got up, then walked over to your two older kids. "Slow down your two." You loved how much energy your three-year-old and five-year-old had. You handed them their drinks and snacks. "What are you two playing anyway?"

Your eldest Furlan smiled. "Titans and scouts! Daddy told us all about what he did."

Isabel nodded. "Titans bad! Titans yucky! Titans must be stopped!"

You clutched your fist in front of your chest as all your bad memories came flooding in. You shook a little and welled up as Levi's horrible words came back to you. "Th-that so? W-Well, be careful. Excuse me a moment."

Isabel ran after you. "Mummy?"

Furlan whined and grabbed the back of your dress. "Mummy?"

You knelt and hugged them both. "I love you both. Mummy just needs to go inside."

They both watched you go inside and missed you. Your kids were very much glued to your hip and loved you strongly like Levi loved you. You were everything to them and Levi, so they knew something wasn't right.

Furlan held his sister's hand, then ran over to Levi. "Daddy? Mummy is sad!"

Levi lifted up Hange, then lay her in her little bed. "Look after your sister for me. I'll go check on your mummy. Stay by Hange and do not leave her side, got it?"

Isabel nodded. "Promise daddy."

Levi limped inside the house, then to the bedroom to see you sat on the floor with your head in your hands having a panic attack. He called your name softly, then stopped next to you. He sighed, then sat down at your side. "I might not be able to get up after this."

You sniffed back tears and giggled. "You're right."

He took your hand in his that had two fingers missing. "What happened?"

You sighed. "The kids said they were playing scouts and titans. They said titans were bad, yucky and must be stopped. It brought back a lot of bad memories."

Levi turned your left hand over and stared at your wedding and engagement ring. He frowned a little as memories of seeing it sticking out from under a boulder came to mind. "I'm the cause of the bad memories. I was such a fucking asshole to you." He locked eyes with you. "I'm so sorry." He squeezed your hand, then turned his head and tapped it against your shoulder. "I'm so deeply and truly sorry that I caused you so much pain. I promise you that I will never do that again. I am with you for life. I love you beyond words. I lost you once, I can't ever lose you again." He lifted his head and locked eyes with you. "I love you."

You smiled at Levi, then kissed him. "I know Levi. I know you'll always be there for me. I love you deeply and passionately. I'm happily married to you and our children are so precious."

Levi wrapped his arms arm you and dragged you to sit between his legs. "I adore you and I'll never ever let you go."

You snuggled against his chest and smiled. "Good, because I don't ever want to part from you again." You smiled a little and bopped Levi's bose with a finger on your left hand. "Does my left-hand freak you out sometimes?"

He nodded. "Sometimes. I'm glad you're all better. I'm glad you're in my arms."

You kissed his neck, then looked over to the door as it opened and Isabel ran in with Furlan behind holding his baby sister. "Intruders."

Levi looked at his kids. "We've been found."

Isabel hugged you. "Mummy okay?"

You nodded. "All better." You opened your arms. "Furlan, pass me your little sister. She's got to be heavy."

Furlan smiled and handed over his baby sister. "Love you, mummy."

You pulled him close with one arm and cuddled him. "I love you too. I love all of you."

Levi kissed the top of your head. "You're all precious and perfect to me." He sighed. "This is going to be a nightmare to get up."

Isabel giggled. "Daddy stuck."

He ruffled her hair. "I am for now, but when I get up I'm going to chase you down and tickle you all."

She squealed and laughed. "Daddyyy."

Furlan laughed and hugged Levi's arm. "Silly daddy."

Levi smiled. "I'm very silly."

#levi ackerman #levi #fanfic #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #snk levi #aot levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x you #captain levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff

[paperstarwriters]

Muriel x reader drabble

Wounded "soulmate" au idea?

It's not soulmates, but they are the person that you're "destined to love", and it starts the moment that notion sets in mutually. You can deny it all you like, but so long as a fragment of you loves them a part of you goes out to them, that's when the pain sets in.

Usually, however, people don't describe it that specifically. They call it soulmates, and say that it starts from birth. As if it's that hollow. As if it's that easy.

–––––––

You and Asra were not soulmates. You didn't feel burnt when they spilt hot tea on their hand. They didn't feel injured when you accidentally cut yourself using magic. Asra didn't want the love he was 'destined' to have, and you had no knowledge of who your soulmate was or could be. You felt no injuries from them.

Even if you weren't soulmates, you still loved each other. Snuggled into one another in a fortress of pillows and sheets. Though, if there was anything to complain about, perhaps it was that you felt more like siblings than you did lovers.

And then the plague happened, and Asra left while you stayed.

And then you met him.

Sitting on your deathbed you met eyes with the gravedigger, and your heart lurched. He looked terrified. Mortified to see someone alive amidst the corpses. You spent your last dying breath talking to him, and he'd reply in strained short sentences. If you had lived any longer, you might have fallen in love with him.

That night you burned.

That night, Muriel went to Asra, his skin marred with burns and new knowledge burning in his mind.

Soulmates are not something you have at birth. It's a burden you must carry when you fall in love.

And so you came back. You came back and you stared at Muriel coated in the wounds of your old love, and when you bruised your knees stumbling towards him, Muriel found bruises on his shins and knees and he wept anew. Not because he felt as if it was the exact same you from so long ago, but because somehow your heart still flew out to him. You still chose to love him, even with his scars.

#The Arcana #the arcana muriel #the arcana muriel x reader #muriel x reader #muriel x mc #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the hermit #muriel the arcana #x reader #reader insert