#hangman ff

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Thirteen

Fool's Fare: Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Flashback Chapter, Cursing, I played around with mythology in this one, Myths, Curses, Magic, Deals, Mentions of death, Mentions of suicide, Smoking pipes (Tobacco), Regret, Angst, some fluff. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 4.6k

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Smoke wafted towards the ceiling, disappearing into the air before the soft tendrils could reach the wooden rafters. The glow of the embers illuminated Tom’s face as he sucked the tobacco smoke into his lungs, the burn a familiar comfort to him after so many years. Blue eyes scanned the crowded room, men gulping down mouthfuls of ale as women sauntered around the room looking for their bed fellow of the night. Laughter broke out on the far side of the room, cheers following it as the last hand of cards was revealed.

These too were familiar to him.

“Don’t suppose the information we were given was wrong,” Beau muttered beside him. Tom’s eyes drifted over to him, studying the quartermaster. Tom wasn’t sure he altogether liked Beau very much, but he trusted the man, and in this life, trust was worth its weight in gold. While Tom knew the quartermaster was loyal, he also knew that Beau’s interest aligned with his own.

“He’ll be here,” he replied, shifting in his chair to lean back, feet propping up on the table. A pretty, young woman strolled casually over to him, fixing him with a sultry gaze and a confident smile. Tom waved her off, earning a pout, but he paid her no mind. He was on a mission tonight, waiting for a man he knew would show his face sooner rather than later.

Pete Mitchell was a right bastard as far as Tom was concerned—the newly appointed captain of the Maverick had earned himself quite the reputation even before earning the mantle from his predecessor.

Tales of the new captain capturing and sinking enemy ships had made their way to every port along the coasts, whispers twisting tales until no one knew what was true and what was falsehood. What had remained consistent, however, was the fact that the young captain had been going around boasting about how no man could best him, not even Davy Jones himself.

Tom wouldn’t stand for that.

The door to the pub opened with a sharp crack to the wall behind it, a smirking young man with fine features, dark hair, and blazing, blue eyes roving over the scene before him.

“That’s him,” Beau whispered, and Tom let out a low grunt in acknowledgement, watching the young man strut into the room like he owned the place. Tom’s jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth, feeling his own irritation rolling off of him in waves. The lad seemed to sense him because his gaze turned to fix on the older man, a brow arching curiously. Slowly, Pete walked over to him, confidence shining from every pore as a lazy smirk curled on his lips. He didn’t wait to be invited to sit, he simply did—the chair knocking against the stone floor as he plopped down in the seat. The man who followed him, much taller than the captain and mustache adorning his upper lip, peered around anxiously before fixing his eyes on Tom and Beau. Tom surmised that he must be Pete’s quartermaster, Nick Bradshaw.

Tom turned his attention back to Pete as the younger man’s smirk became a full-blown grin.

“Evenin’, pops,” he greeted, nodding at him from across the table. Tom felt the vein in his forehead pulse with irritation, leaning back in his chair with a creak and another drag from his pipe. Tom studied the young man before him, noting how at ease he seemed to be despite the dangerous aura that rolled off of Tom in waves. Men twice this boy’s age cowered in his presence, and yet here he was—grinning like a cheshire cat.

It pissed him off.

“You know,” Pete drawled, leaning back to mirror the older captain, “it’s considered polite to answer back.”

Tom snorted, bringing the pipe away from his mouth and staring down the young captain.

“Pleasantries fly out the window once I hear of some upstart going around boasting about how none can best him—even Davy Jones himself.”

“I haven’t even seen you on the seas, old timer,” Pete grinned. “You think I’d beat you like all the others?”

“I think I’d sink your ship in ten seconds flat without even raising my voice,” Tom spat, earning a wary side-eye from his quartermaster.

“Tom here doesn’t exactly appreciate people invoking his name needlessly,” Beau supplied, shifting in his seat as waves of anger rolled off the captain. “Especially when it’s spoken in boast of oneself.”

Pete’s brow arched as his quartermaster’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Nick spoke, leaning forward to look over his own captain’s shoulder. “We don’t even know your name.”

Tom hummed, tapping his fingers on the top of the table. “I think you do.”

A moment of silence passed between the four men, the rowdy crowd around them continuing on in their revelry as if nothing were amiss. It was Pete who broke the silence first.

“You’re supposed to be a myth,” he murmured, all trace of mirth gone from his face. “A legend.”

“Any sailor worth his salt knows not to invoke names of power,” Tom retorted. “Names themselves have power. You shouldn’t speak the name of anything whose wrath you don’t want to earn.”

“And is that what I’ve done?” Challenged Pete, squaring his shoulders as Nick gave him an exasperated look. “Have I incurred the wrath of Davy Jones?”

Tom considered him for a moment. The gall of this man was something Tom hadn’t seen in decades, and he found that he quite liked the challenge the young captain was issuing him. He tried to remember the last time someone had done so so openly and brazenly.

“You’ve certainly incurred the annoyance of Tom,” he replied finally, not missing the sharp look Beau shot his way. Pete frowned in confusion.

“Tom?”

“That’s my name,” he replied with a shrug, inhaling from his pipe as he watched the younger man process his words.

“I thought you were Davy Jones?” Pete asked finally, lips pursed as his guard was up.

“Davy Jones is more of a…moniker,” Tom supplied, closing his eyes as he basked in the warmth of the tobacco in his lungs. “Has a better ring to it than Thomas, wouldn’t you say?”

The young captain stared at him in disbelief before letting out a humorless chuckle.

“You aren’t at all what I was expecting,” Pete mused, and Tom snorted.

“You weren’t expecting much,” he countered. “You didn’t even think I was real until a few moments ago.”

The two men talked well into the night, and Tom had grown a sort of strange fondness for the plucky captain. You’d never get him to admit that he felt somewhat impressed by the stories Pete told him of the several ships he had managed to capture, but he was sure Pete caught the way his eyes alighted with intrigue. As dawn broke above the horizon, the sky painted in a hushed blue and warm pink, the captains bid farewell to each other, Tom warning the young captain one more time to not invoke his name lest there be consequences.

Years passed, and in that time, Tom and his crew had taken many treasures from doomed ships, the begging of crews falling on deaf ears. The captain of the Flying Dutchman having long lost feeling in his heart for the plight of others. No, in this world there was only take, his endless life proof of that.

His crew was not dead, not in any way that may truly matter. Rather, they sat in limbo thanks to a god long thought dead—a goddess that Tom had betrayed.

Thetis had been beautiful, strong, and perhaps the most coveted woman in antiquity at one time. Tom, who had gone by a name he had long forgotten at that time, had wooed the goddess, and perhaps at one time he would have said he even loved her. Together, they had seven sons, but only one would grow to be a man, the others lost to mortality. Thetis had been driven mad with grief, and Tom had closed himself off completely.

Perhaps it was a mixture of pride and the folly of his youth that had led him to betray her. The now faded memories of sailing with a band of his brothers had filled his mind then, and Tom had decidedly wanted more. He knew his wife held great magic in her hands, and he had begged her to use it to secure him power over the seas. Of course, she had been reluctant at first, warning him of the dangers that came from such a request, but Tom had been insistent. The first moment he held the star in his hand, he knew he had doomed himself.

He had left shortly after, leaving his wife heartbroken and his son in the care of a trusted friend. His wife had bestowed power to him, and Tom was ever the fool to think that it had been anything other than her final act of revenge.

He and his crew were doomed to limbo, to wander the seas forever craving more from those who were unfortunate to cross their paths. Time passed around them, and it wasn’t long until Tom learned of his son’s tragic fate, mourning him as best he could despite the never-ending greed that gripped his heart. Time marched forever forward, and soon Tom took on new name after new name until one day he realized he had no memory of who he once was.

The star had been lost to him, having lost it in a gamble or having misplaced it at some point—he wasn’t sure. He wanted it back though, but no matter how hard he tried, the star remained lost to him. The magic cursed to him by his estranged wife, however, made him slave to the whims of the ocean, his name crossing into legend then myth. He took up the moniker of Davy Jones, a name that now struck fear into the heart of every sailor that sailed the seven seas.

All except one.

It was a dreary day when Tom felt the call. Mist clung to his skin as the ship moved forward in the dark waves, an eery silence surrounding him when he felt the call of his name.

It had taken a while for him to notice the first time it happened. His name a beacon on the waves for those sentenced to death on the ocean’s surface. But, soon he realized the call that stirred deep within him. Where the call came, treasure awaited.

Tom signaled to the helmsman to change course, the ship creaking in protest against the crashing waves. Still, the ship spurred on at an unnatural pace, and it wasn’t long before Tom realized he had been summoned to the shore off of southern Massachusetts. He frowned at the location, choosing to go ashore himself and leave his crew behind until he could determine what was happening.

Tom secured the lifeboat up onto the shore, confident that it was far enough inland that the tide wouldn’t pull it back out should he take long. The sand shifted beneath his feet as he walked along the shore, the summons guiding him to where he needed to go. The sun was drifting towards the skyline, the sparse clouds above streaming past up above as his eyes scanned the beach for what he was looking for. It wasn’t long before he came upon a familiar figure sitting amongst the rocks.

Pete was older than Tom had last seen him, only three years having passed since the last time they had seen each other—ten since the first time they had met. Strands of grey started to spot against Pete’s temples, lines littering his face to give him a more distinguished look. He looked up as Tom approached, smiling in way of greeting as the old, sea captain came to a stop beside him, dropping down next to him with a grunt. Tom pulled out his pipe, striking a match and puffing on the old, wooden piece as he let out a sigh.

“Been a while since I seen you,” he offered up after a moment’s silence. Pete nodded with a hum, turning his attention back to the sea.

“It has,” Pete agreed.

“Didn’t exactly part on the best of terms last time,” Tom continued.

“No,” Pete acquiesced. “We didn’t.”

“I don’t have the power to bring the dead back, Pete,” the older man reminded him. “The magic doesn’t work that way.”

“So you said,” Pete muttered, and Tom let out another sigh.

“I’d bring Nick back if I could,” he frowned, shoulders stiff. “You know that.”

Nick’s death had been a terrible accident—a stray bullet lodging into his heart during the heat of battle. Pete had taken it hard, locking himself away to mourn the loss of his most trusted friend. Nick had been a good man, though he had his secrets. Pete had mentioned that Nick had a wife and child tucked somewhere secret that he’d visit from time to time. Not even Pete knew where Nick would run off to during those times.

“I do,” Pete agreed. The two sat in silence for a few moments more before Tom rolled his shoulders, inhaling the tobacco smoke once more.

“So why’ve you brought me out here, then?” Tom prodded.

“Do you remember that girl I told you about?”

Tom paused. He did remember Pete mentioning a girl he’d been spending time with. “Penny, right?” He asked.

Pete nodded, a small smile creeping on his face at the mention of her name. Tom vaguely recalled seeing the girl on one of his last visits with Pete, a pretty thing with a fire that matched the young captain’s. Tom was surprised that she had managed to stick around.

“What about her?” Tom asked, peering over at the other captain.

“We’re married now.”

Tom started at that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever peg Pete as the marrying type, but he supposed he wasn’t one to talk.

“Married,” he echoed with a low hum.

“Two years now. Three in April,” Pete grinned.

“You called me out here to tell me that you’re married?” Tom snorted, the embers of his pipe glowing in the fading light as he inhaled once more.

“Actually,” Pete started, “I’m here to ask a favor.”

“A favor,” Tom echoed once more, this time with a frown. Pete knew there was a price to Tom’s favors—it was the way the magic worked.

“Penny and I have been trying for a family,” Pete explained, “but we haven’t had any luck. I see the way she tries to seem like it doesn’t bother her, but I also see the way she looks after the kids in the village. I want to give her everything I can, Tom. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t try everything?”

“You know there’ll be a price,” Tom warned him, casting a look his way. “There’s always a price to pay for these things.”

“Whatever it is,” Pete murmured, “I’ll pay it.”

“Why?” Tom retorted. “Why would you even risk it?”

Pete smiled at him, a soft look in his ocean blue eyes. “I love her, Tom.”

“Love is for fools,” Tom scoffed.

“Love is the price we pay to feel something in this world, Tom,” Maverick said, looking at his friend knowingly. Tom snorted, shaking his head.

“Fool’s fare then,” Tom relented. Pete’s head tilted back as he laughed.

“Call it what you like,” he chortled, “but the facts remain. Now are you going to help me or not?”

Tom considered him for a moment. What Pete was asking was no small task, but perhaps…

“Tell me,” he spoke. “What do you picture your life being?”

Pete thought for a moment.

“Penny wants a child regardless, but I think I want a son that I can pass my legacy onto. A son to teach the ways of sailing and ride on the waves together,” he paused. “Yes, a son.”

Tom hummed with a nod. He could work with that. He could manipulate the magic in that one, small way.

“The price for a life is a life in return,” he warned. “To gain your son, you forfeit your life after seven years.”

Pete hummed, rubbing at his chin as he considered the price. Tom waited, wondering if his friend would forfeit his own life to make this woman happy. Pete wasn’t a particularly selfish man, but he had a zest for life that was rare in Tom’s experience. People like Pete lived for the love of life, and the thought of willingly forfeiting that should seem like an impossible decision to the young captain.

“I’ll do it.”

Tom blinked, momentarily letting his mask of impassiveness slip to show his surprise at Pete’s decision. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat as he shifted.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you’re sure about this.”

Pete nodded. “I am.”

Tom felt the magic swirl within him, building as he readied to make the deal. Slowly, he extended his hand, settling on the wording of the spell.

“To gain a child,” he said slowly, “you forfeit your life.”

Pete nodded, grasping his outstretched hand. “I get my son, Penny get’s a child, and you gain a soul.”

Tom frowned. Magic was specific, it was precise. He wasn’t sure if Pete’s added words would affect the spell, but he was sure that he had enough control to alter that one piece.

The magic settled around them, a low hum that rang in Tom’s ears as he let go of Pete’s hand. He took a long drag from his pipe, holding the burning smoke in his lungs before blowing out long and slow.

“So, tell me,” Pete grinned. “What treasures have you found since I last saw you?”

Years passed, and Tom’s plan worked. Soon after his deal with Pete, he received the news that his friend would become a father, and nine months later he received word that Pete’s daughter had been born, a healthy, happy child according to Pete. It was a couple of years later when he first met the little girl.

Tom had never seen his friend look so happy, smiling and bouncing the toddler on his hips as he cooed at her, earning small giggles that made the young captain grin even wider.

“She may not be my son,” Pete told him, holding the little girl close as she dozed off against his shoulder, tiny thumb popped into her mouth, “but she’s my little guppy.”

Tom would have gagged if it weren’t so sweet. He thought back to his long dead son, how small the boy had been in his own arms, and warmth stirred in his chest.

“I’m happy it worked out,” he replied.

“I know you finagled the magic,” Pete told him. “No son means no forfeiture of my life, right?”

“That’s the idea,” Tom admitted. “You’ll live a long, happy life with your family.”

It was two years later that Pete brought a young boy named Bradley into his home, dubbing the boy Rooster.

“He reminds me of Nick,” Pete told Tom one day. “Looks just like him. So much so, that sometimes I wonder if Bradley really is-”

“Don’t,” Tom interrupted, placing a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t torture yourself with possibilities. Just focus on what you have now.”

Pete had smiled and nodded, content with the old captain’s words. Several more years passed, and the two children grew up as Pete grew older. Six years after Pete Mitchell had brought the boy into his home, he sealed his fate.

“Bradley’s grown strong,” he told Tom, pride evident in his voice. “He’s almost ready to take his first job. And, Guppy’s growing up so fast. She takes after her mother, I think.”

Tom snorted, but didn’t voice his opinion that Guppy took after her father rather than her mother—her stubbornness and talent for mischief qualities she inherited directly from the man who sat next to him.

“A son and a daughter,” Pete sighed. “I couldn’t be more proud to have them.”

It was like time stopped moving for a moment, magic stirred in the air like waves against rocks in the surf, crashing into Tom so hard, it knocked the air from his lungs. He started at Pete in horror, terror coursing through his veins for the first time in eons.

“What did you say?” His voice sounded small, even to his ears. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”

“I do,” Pete nodded, unfazed by the magic that now counted down the moments he had left to walk the earth. “And I’ll say it again. Bradley is my son, Tom. I won’t deny him that part in my life to save myself time.”

Tom continued to stare at him. Had he misjudged his friend so badly as to think that this boy would not hold such a place in his heart? Pete was different from the young man he had met over two decades before. Where he had been an inferno in his youth, scorching anyone or anything that got in his way, now he was the steady fire found in the hearth—a beacon to those around him.

“Seven years,” Tom murmured, hanging his head. “You have seven years.”

“Don’t feel bad, Tom,” Pete said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You did for me what you could, and you didn’t have to do that much. You allowed me more years with my family than our deal allowed, and for that I’m grateful. More than you can imagine.”

Tom shook his head, letting out a growl of frustration at his friend’s apparent lack of self preservation. Pete shot him a sympathetic smile.

“Guess the magic got its way in the end, huh?” Pete chuckled, though there was no humor in his tone.

Tom said nothing, and the two sat in silence long after the sun had dipped below the horizon.

Tom ran into Pete several times during those years, either on the sea during their adventures, or when he’d pop into the local tavern. During that time, Tom himself had fallen in love for the first time in ages. She was a pretty, young thing with chestnut waves that rolled down her back and eyes to match. Laughter that filled Tom’s heart with a mixture of warmth and longing, and how he wished she’d pay him more mind.

Kate was her name, and Tom was in love. He watched from afar as she chased after some local boy. Tom wished it was him that she yearned for, but he would love her from afar.

No good would come from entangling himself in her life.

He watched after her for years, content to be her silent protector. In between his moments of quiet pining for her, he’d visit Pete, cognizant of the fact that his friend’s time was quickly running out.

“Have you told them?” He asked one day, Pete looking up from the map he had been studying. Pete grimaced, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t want them to lose sleep over the inevitable. When I go, it will be a sudden, tragic accident. They’ll grieve, but they won’t torture themselves with the notion that they could have done anything to prevent it.”

Tom nodded, fidgeting with his pipe as a moment passed.

“I think I know what you meant about love now,” he admitted. Pete’s brow arched, the twinge of a smile evident on his lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” Tom groused, scowling at the younger man. “I’m only telling you because you’ll be dead soon enough, anyway.”

Pete threw his head back in laughter, Tom slowly joining in after a moment.

“Never one to beat around the bush, aye?” Pete chuckled, wiping a tear from his eyes as aftershocks of laughter rattled through him.

“Never,” Tom agreed with a grin.

That had been the last time Tom saw Pete. The magic had pulled tight at his chest, poised like a string before snapping, and Tom was left with a breathless, empty feeling. The tears came unbidden, a sob choking up out of him as he hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt sorrow like this, the last time he had allowed himself to feel close to anyone. Now he remembered why he was cold, why he gave himself to the ocean beneath him.

He would not make that mistake again.

As if to hammer home the lesson, news of Kate’s death reached him only days after. She had confessed her love to that same, stupid boy she had been chasing, and the boy had denied her affections. In her despair, she had thrown herself into the sea, drowning beneath the surface of the waves.

Tom was livid. How dare that boy take such a thing as love for granted. It was no matter, Tom would be the one to teach him a lesson.

And a lesson he had certainly bestowed. The boy had begged for mercy, but there was none to be found in Tom’s empty, aching heart. He thought of his friend who had given up everything in the name of love, something the boy before him had spit on as far as Tom was concerned. And so he had cursed the boy with the very curse that had been bestowed upon him lifetimes ago.

If more is what the boy wanted, it was more he would seek.

Tom had turned his back on the boy, the cries for mercy blending in with the wind as he disappeared into the shadows of night.

He saw the boy six years later during a visit to see you and Bradley, the blond having the swagger of any young captain, and his demeanor almost reminded him of another captain from so long ago.

Almost.

Tom hated him. Hated the very sight of him, and he was sure it was written all over his face as he scowled at him. Of course, the boy had no idea that he was talking to the very man that had cursed him so many years before. Tom made it a point to not let his civilian form slip to reveal the cursed soul that lay beneath. The night he had cursed the young man, he had let his control slip, revealing the skeleton of the man he truly was.

He knew better than to raise his voice in opposition to the idea that Bradley join this man’s crew. Much like the man who raised him, Bradley was more inclined to do the thing you told him not to do—a trait that Tom had found most annoying in Pete. However, he watched you trail after your brother, desperation clouding your judgement, and Tom shook his head in pity. He could try to speak up, but that would risk his exposure. Besides, there was no guarantee Bradley would listen to him, let alone believe him. He watched helplessly as Bradley signed his life away, signed away his future.

Tom could not meddle in the affairs of common folk, not without a price anyway. Stopping Bradley would have meant paying a terrible price, one that Tom would have no control over. Cursing under his breath, he watched as you stormed out of the tavern, tears streaming down your face. A wave of sadness washed over him, and he hung his head lower, squeezing his eyes shut against the realization that you truly would lose everyone you held dear in your life. All because of him. He had played a part in creating your family, and now he was the reason you would lose everyone completely. You’d be alone, just like him.

“I’m so sorry, Guppy.”

A/N: I'm so excited to share this one with you guys. This chapter has been swirling around in my head basically since the inception of the fic. I loved getting to explore the backstory of Tom and his origins as well as his friendship with Maverick. Did you pick up on the mythology? Can you guess Tom's true name? Only one more chapter to go and then we have our epilogue!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[missxwrites]

fix you too - jake seresin x plus size!reader aesthetic

whooo! okay, y'all, I did NOT expect this series to garner so much attention in such a short time!! I'm really excited that you guys are loving this even though this is the first part and it was short! I'm half way done with part 2 already so hopefully it'll be up soon!!! enjoy this all-around series aesthetic because it makes my brain happy (:

Read the 'fix you too' series here!!

[dragonbornoflegend]

i made an image abt how I watch dynamite

[bobfloydsbabe]

I am, once again, imploring you to use the read more function when you post fics. It’s driving me nuts having to scroll seven thousand times to get past them in the tags.

[light-yaers]

here’s a lil teaser because i’m impatient …

He leant against the bar next to you, and your skin prickled from that side. You were still getting used to having him near. Despite your college years together, it felt odd being colleagues both on the ground and in the air. You tapped the bar nervously, anxiously, waiting for him to speak first.

“One week down, two to go,” he said. You nodded and let out a hum in reply. He peered down at you, shooting you a confused look. “Did we agree to not talk without me knowing, or something?”

“No,” you replied. “I just don’t particularly have a conversation in mind to have with you.”

“Ah, I see.” Hangman calculated. “Is this about me cutting you off earlier this week?”

You turned to him sternly. “Why do you assume that I hold grudges over you? That I care?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because you’re in a perpetual state of pissed off around me?”

“Oh please, Jake–,”

“You still call me Jake, too,” he interrupted. “Not my call-sign.”

“I knew you as Jake first,” you said, shrugging.

“That was before all this. Before we both ended up becoming the best pilots out there.”

You raised your brows at him. “Did you just group me in with the best?”

He kissed his teeth. Penny dropped three pints on the bar before you. “Well, excuse me for wanting to have a conversation with you, for once.”

“For once,” you repeated, gobsmacked. “So, just because you’re willing to talk with me, means I have to be willing back?”

Jake paid for the drinks with a simple tap of his credit card. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join for a game of pool, but I guess that’s redundant.”

“Thank you so much for tossing me a bone then, Hangman,” you let out. He went silent.

He grabbed his pint and took a small sip, before he stepped back from the bar. You stayed still, not knowing if that was the end of his fruitless attempt at an olive branch. Innately, you didn’t know why he still grated on you. You were old enough to look past his behaviour at college, and certainly wise enough to know that you were both in the same boat.

You wanted to believe he meant good by it, coming up and buying you a drink, acknowledging his cut-off mid-air from earlier that week, but you simply couldn’t. There was a wall erected within you when it came to actually being friends with Jake Seresin, but you couldn’t work out why it consumed you so strongly.

Jake looked back to his group at the pool table. You thought he was going to leave without another work, thought he was done, but he turned back to you quickly.

“How about tomorrow?” he asked suddenly.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“I know how the days of the week work, Gemini, but thank you,” he said. A chuckle escaped you at his response, taking you by surprise. “I mean, do you want to play a game tomorrow?”

You shut your agape mouth, looking up at him earnestly. “Okay,” you agreed. The word slipped out without you consenting to it, but you found yourself being glad when he nodded at you.

“Okay, tomorrow it is,” he stepped back, once, but wasn’t finished. “I could pick you up?”

You inhaled. Maybe he was trying to extend an olive branch, for real. “Sure,” you found yourself saying. Your brain wasn’t screaming at you, but was flying red flags of warning instead.

Jake nodded again, signalling the end of your conversation. He started back towards the pool table, and you stood up straight. “Thanks for the drinks,” you exclaimed lightly, just loud enough to alert him back to you.

“You’re welcome,” he let out.

INCOMING FIC!

get ready for a long ass Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader one shot, because i am a menace who cannot be stopped. other fics on halt atm while i’m writing my book for a portfolio, but wanted something small i could sink my teeth into for a bit. should be done soon, perhaps the end of the week.

mwah

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (8)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Note: For all the parts to this story, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (Aerys is warning on his own)

- Word count: 7 000+

- Previous part: 7

- Next part: 9

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska

The night is amassed with shadows, the kind that seem to creep from every corner, swallowing the light, until only a faint glimmer of moonlight filters through the cracks in the curtains. The air in your chamber is heavy, stifling, clinging to your skin like a second layer, and you toss restlessly in your bed, caught between sleep and wakefulness. The events of the day have left a mark deeper than any wound, a scar on your very soul, and even in sleep, you find no escape from them.

The dream begins innocuously enough—an echo of familiar places and faces. The Red Keep looms before you, its towers stretching into a sky darkened with storm clouds. You walk through its halls, but something is wrong. The walls seem to shift, to warp around you as if the castle itself were alive, breathing, watching. You pass a mirror, and in it, you see yourself, but your reflection's eyes are not your own—they are molten gold, like the eyes of the dragon that hatched from your blood.

Then the voices begin, disembodied whispers that slither into your mind like vipers.

"Make the tallow from the fat of a hangman."

You spin around, searching for the source, but the corridor is empty, save for the flickering shadows that dance along the walls. Your heart pounds, a drumbeat of fear, as the whispers grow louder, more insistent.

"Sealed with the kiss of swine."

The words curl around you, filling your ears, your head, until they are all you can hear. They are followed by images—horrifying, grotesque images that sear themselves into your mind. You see a man, faceless and featureless, his body twisting and contorting as if consumed by fire, and beside him, a grotesque beast with the head of a pig and the wings of a dragon.

"Whishes and words sprout from the same seed."

The final whisper is the most haunting, carrying with it a truth you cannot yet comprehend. You feel a pull, a deep, visceral pull, towards something—or someone—just beyond your reach. The air around you crackles with heat, with the scent of burning flesh, and you realize with a start that you are no longer in the Red Keep but in the throne room. The Iron Throne looms before you, and at its base lies the dragon, your dragon, with its golden eyes fixed on you. There is a chain around its neck, heavy and cruel, and as you step closer, you see that it is not just a chain—it is a part of you, binding you to the beast, to the throne, to your father’s madness.

You try to scream, to pull away, but the chain tightens, digging into your flesh, and the dragon roars, a sound that shakes the very foundations of the dream. 

With a gasp, you wake, bolting upright in your bed. Your heart races, pounding against your ribcage as if it might burst free at any moment. Your skin is slick with sweat, your hands trembling as they clutch the sheets. It takes a moment for the familiar surroundings of your chamber to come into focus, for reality to assert itself over the lingering terror of the dream.

But the fear does not dissipate; it clings to you, wrapping around your bones like a cold, suffocating shroud. You cannot shake the feeling that the dream was not just a product of your mind, but something more—a premonition, a warning. You fear that you are now bound to your father’s madness in ways you cannot yet understand.

The door to your chamber creaks open, and you instinctively reach for the dagger hidden beneath your pillow. But it is only Arthur, his face drawn with concern as he steps into the room, the soft glow of a candle casting shadows across his features. 

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. He crosses the room in a few long strides and kneels by your bedside, reaching out to brush a strand of damp hair from your face. "You cried out in your sleep. What happened?"

You stare at him, struggling to find the words. How can you explain the horrors you witnessed in your dream? How can you tell him of the chain that binds you, of the dragon’s eyes that haunt you?

"It was just a dream," you say finally, though the words feel hollow, a poor attempt to convince yourself more than him. "But it felt… so real."

Arthur’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. There is something in his eyes, a sadness, a fear that mirrors your own. He knows the weight you carry, the burden of your bloodline, and it tears at him as much as it does you.

"You are stronger than any dream, Y/N," he says, his voice firm yet gentle. "Whatever darkness your father has unleashed, it will not claim you. I won’t let it."

His words should comfort you, but the fear lingers, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch, drawing strength from the warmth of his hand, the steady beat of his heart. But even as he holds you, a part of you cannot shake the feeling that something has changed, that the dragon now bound in chains is not the only one tethered to the Iron Throne.

"And the dragon?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "What of him?"

Arthur hesitates, and in that moment, you see the truth in his eyes. He knows as well as you do that the dragon is not just a creature born of fire and blood, but something more—something that ties you inexorably to your father’s will.

"He is strong," Arthur replies after a moment, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that plagues your own thoughts. "But he is yours, Y/N, not your father’s. Remember that."

You nod, though doubt still lingers in your heart. You can feel the pull of the dragon, the bond forged in blood, and you wonder if it is a bond you will ever truly break.

Arthur pulls you close then, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from the darkness that stands on the horizon. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, and for a moment, you allow yourself to believe that he might be right, that you might be able to defy the fate that seems to be tightening its grip around you.

But deep down, you know that the dragon has awakened something within you, something that cannot be so easily silenced. And as you drift back to sleep in Arthur’s arms, you can’t help but wonder if that something is the same madness that has consumed your father—or if it is something far, far worse.

The echo of Rhaegar’s footsteps resonates through the darkened corridors of the Red Keep, each step a reminder of the burden weighing heavily on his shoulders. The scent of wildfire still lingers faintly in the air, mingling with the stale, musty odor that always seemed to cling to the throne room and its cursed Iron Throne. Rhaegar pauses before the door, taking a moment to steady his breath, knowing full well the volatility that could await him on the other side.

The door creaks open, revealing King Aerys II sitting at a large wooden table, papers strewn about, and a goblet of wine in his hand. His hair, once silver like the moon, now hangs in greasy strands, framing a face etched with madness but, at this moment, unusually calm. His eyes, however, still gleam with the dangerous fire that had consumed him over the years, a fire that now burned brighter with the hatching of the dragon.

"Father," Rhaegar begins, his voice soft, measured. He steps into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Aerys does not immediately acknowledge him, his gaze fixed on the flames crackling in the hearth. Rhaegar can feel the tension in the air, the precarious balance of his father’s mind. He must tread carefully.

"Rhaegar, my son," Aerys finally speaks, his voice surprisingly even. "Have you come to see our child? My dragon... our creation?" The king's voice carries an unsettling blend of pride and possessiveness, his eyes shifting to meet Rhaegar's with an intensity that makes his son’s heart tighten.

Rhaegar inclines his head slightly. "I have, Father. The dragon is a magnificent creature, a symbol of House Targaryen’s strength, of our blood." He chooses his words carefully, keeping his tone respectful. "But it is not just the dragon that concerns me."

Aerys narrows his eyes, suspicion flickering across his features. "What concerns you, my son? The dragon is ours by right. It will be the weapon that ensures our enemies bow before us."

Rhaegar takes a breath, steadying himself. "It is Y/N that concerns me, Father," he says, his voice steady but laced with concern. "She is still weak from the ritual, and Pycelle says her wounds will take time to heal. She needs rest, care. We cannot risk her health, not when she is so important to us… to you."

Aerys’s gaze sharpens at the mention of you. "She is important, yes. More important than any of them realize," he murmurs, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "She brought forth the dragon. She is its mother, its rightful queen. No harm must come to her, do you hear me?"

Rhaegar nods, carefully concealing his relief that, for now, Aerys seems focused on your well-being. "Of course, Father. No harm will come to her, I swear it. But she needs time away from the chaos of the court, away from prying eyes and those who might seek to use her or the dragon for their own ends."

Aerys frowns, suspicion clouding his features once more. "What are you suggesting, Rhaegar? That she be hidden away? That she be kept from me?"

"No, Father," Rhaegar says quickly. "I would never suggest such a thing. Only that she be allowed to recover in peace. Perhaps at Dragonstone, where she can be close to her dragon but away from the eyes of those who might seek to control her... or it."

The mention of Dragonstone seems to catch Aerys’s interest, and Rhaegar seizes the opportunity. "Dragonstone is a place of power, a place where our ancestors ruled and raised their dragons. It would be fitting for Y/N to be there, with the dragon, away from the prying eyes of the court. There, she can grow stronger, and the dragon can be raised in the safety and secrecy it deserves."

Aerys considers this for a long moment, his eyes flickering with the flames of the hearth. "Dragonstone," he muses, the word rolling off his tongue as if tasting its possibilities. "Yes… yes, it is a place of power. She will be safe there. But I must see the dragon, must know that it is truly ours."

Rhaegar bows his head. "Of course, Father. The dragon will be brought to you, but it must be done carefully, slowly. It is still young, still growing. It needs time, as does Y/N."

Aerys nods, seemingly satisfied with this answer. "Yes, yes, you are right, my son. But remember this, Rhaegar," he says, his voice suddenly cold, his eyes locking onto his son's with a ferocity that makes Rhaegar’s blood run cold. "She is mine. The dragon is mine. They are my legacy. Do not forget that."

Rhaegar swallows, his throat dry. "I will not forget, Father."

Aerys's gaze lingers on him for a moment longer before he turns his attention back to the fire, dismissing Rhaegar with a wave of his hand. "Go now. Ensure that my dragon is well cared for. And see to it that Y/N is taken to Dragonstone, where she will be safe... and where she will remember her place."

Rhaegar bows low, retreating from the room with a sense of urgency. Once outside, he allows himself a breath of relief, though the weight of his father's obsession with you and the dragon still presses heavily on his chest. He must speak with Arthur, ensure that you are protected, hidden away from the madness that now grips Aerys.

As he walks back through the dimly lit corridors, his mind is consumed with thoughts of you—of your safety, of the secret you share with Ser Arthur Dayne. Rhaegar knows he must act swiftly, for the shadow of his father’s madness is long and ever-reaching, and it is only a matter of time before it threatens to engulf you both.

The salty breeze tugs at your hair as you stand on the edge of the harbor, the morning sun glinting off the choppy waters of Blackwater Bay. The sight of the ship bobbing gently at anchor fills you with a sense of unease, the iron cage being carefully loaded onto its deck a pogient reminder of the strange and terrible events that have led you here. Inside the cage, your dragon, the one born of death, lets out a low, restless growl. His golden eyes, now a little larger, still burning with the same fierce intelligence that haunts your dreams. You feel a strange pull in your chest, as though something within you is tethered to the creature, a bond that tightens with every beat of your heart.

Your hand instinctively rises to your chest, pressing against the spot where you can feel the faintest echo of warmth, as if your own blood still burns with the wildfire that hatched the dragon. The world around you seems distant, your focus narrowing to the creature in the cage, to the strange connection you share. A soft, persistent whisper at the back of your mind urges you to draw closer, to reach out and touch the iron bars that keep him confined, but the sound of approaching footsteps pulls you back to reality.

"Y/N," Rhaegar’s voice is gentle but firm, grounding you. He appears beside you, his presence solid and reassuring amidst the swirling chaos of your thoughts. His arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his touch dispels the strange pull you felt toward the dragon, anchoring you firmly in the present.

"You will be safe at Dragonstone," Rhaegar murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "I wish I could go with you, but I will see you again soon. I promise." He pulls back slightly, his violet eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. "And I will make sure our father remains... distracted for as long as possible."

You nod, though words seem to fail you in the face of all that has happened. The sight of the dragon, your dragon, being locked away, the very creature that should have been a symbol of your family's strength, instead treated as a dangerous secret to be hidden away—it all weighs heavily on your mind.

Before you can voice your concerns, another presence joins you. Queen Rhaella, your mother, approaches, her face pale but composed, as if she has steeled herself for what is to come. Her gaze is tender as she looks at you, though it is clouded with the same sorrow that has shadowed her for years. "Y/N, Rhaegar," she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of a mother’s love and the pain of long-endured suffering.

"Mother," Rhaegar greets her with a bow of his head, stepping back to allow her to stand beside you.

Rhaella’s hand finds yours, squeezing it gently. "Aerys has allowed me to accompany you to Dragonstone," she says, her voice tinged with both relief and resignation. "He... he sees no use for me here any longer."

The words hang in the air, a bitter reminder of how far your father has fallen, how little regard he holds for those who were once dearest to him. Rhaella’s gaze flickers to the dragon in its cage, a flash of fear and sadness passing over her features before she turns back to Rhaegar. "Take care of yourself, my son," she says, her voice wavering slightly. "You carry the hopes of our house."

Rhaegar nods, his expression softening. "And you carry its future," he replies, his gaze lingering on you. "This is likely temporary, as you well know. Father will not be content to let you remain away from him for long. And when the time comes... the small council's debate may soon become more than mere words. Our marriage may no longer be just a possibility, Y/N."

Your heart tightens at his words. The idea of marrying Rhaegar has always been one tangled with duty, obligation, and the preservation of your house. Yet, there is another side to this—a secret part of you that yearns for someone else, for Ser Arthur Dayne, whose presence you can feel even now, standing at a respectful distance near the Queen’s retinue.

Your gaze drifts to where Ser Arthur waits, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his helm, though his eyes—those familiar, intense eyes—never leave you. Beside him, Ser Lewyn Martell stands ready, prepared to accompany you and your mother to Dragonstone. The two of them, Arthur especially, have been your protectors in more ways than one, and you feel a sense of calm knowing they will be by your side during this exile.

But before you can take a step toward them, a sudden shift in the atmosphere halts you. The harbor grows quiet, the bustling activity of sailors and dockworkers falling away as Aerys, your father, arrives with the Kingsguard and his entourage. The sight of him makes your blood run cold, the sharp contrast between the man he once was and the mad king he has become all too clear in the daylight.

Aerys’s presence is unsettling, a mix of unpredictability and danger that makes everyone around him tense, as though they are all walking on the edge of a knife. You straighten your posture, reminding yourself not to show any sign of weakness, any sign that might provoke him into changing his mind about letting you go.

Your mother, however, is less successful in hiding her fear. As Aerys approaches, she takes a small step back, her eyes lowering to the ground, her entire demeanor shrinking as though trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. You sense her anxiety, feel it in the way her hand trembles in yours before she quickly releases her grip, folding her hands in front of her as she stares at the ground.

"Y/N, you are my daughter, my blood. The mother of my dragon.” Aerys croons, his voice unexpectedly warm, though there is a manic edge to it that makes your skin crawl. He steps closer, his eyes—once sharp and clear—now filled with the flames of his own madness. Without warning, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, the touch of his lips cold and unsettling.

As soon as his lips make contact, a voice—a dark, twisted whisper—echoes in your mind, repeating the words from the nightmare that has plagued you ever since the ritual: "Sealed with the kiss of swine."

The words send a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the world seems to tilt, the harbor, the ship, the dragon, all fading into the background as the voice reverberates through your thoughts. But you force yourself to remain still, to show no sign of the terror that grips you.

Aerys pulls back, his smile unsettling as he examines your face as though searching for something only he can see. "Remember, my child, the dragon is ours—yours and mine. We are bound by fire and blood."

You manage a stiff nod, your voice catching in your throat. "Yes, Father," you reply, keeping your tone as even as possible.

Before Aerys can say anything further, Tywin Lannister steps forward, his eyes gleaming with that cold calculation that always unnerved you. "Safe travels, my lady," he says, offering you a bow that seems more like a formality than a genuine gesture of respect.

As he straightens, the voice in your mind returns, louder this time, dripping with malice: "It has two mouths to lick from."

The words almost make you recoil, but you manage to keep your composure, nodding at Tywin in acknowledgment. The tension in the air is suffocating, the weight of all that is unspoken hanging between you and everyone present. But you know this is not the time or place to question the meaning of these strange, disturbing messages. Not when so many eyes are upon you, waiting for any sign of weakness, any reason to doubt your loyalty to the crown.

Finally, with a nod from Aerys, the entourage begins to withdraw, allowing you, Rhaella, and your escorts to make your way toward the waiting ship. Rhaegar lingers for a moment longer, his gaze meeting yours, filled with a mixture of worry and determination.

"This will not be forever," he says quietly, his voice meant only for your ears. "I will do everything in my power to protect you, to bring you back safely."

You nod, though the certainty in his words does little to quell the unease that churns within you. As you turn to follow your mother and the Kingsguard toward the ship, your gaze once again finds Arthur. His presence, as always, brings a small measure of comfort, even as the weight of the future presses heavily on your shoulders.

But as you step onto the gangplank, the whisper in your mind returns once more, a final chilling reminder of the darkness that shadows your path: "Two mouths, one kiss."

You force the voice back, focusing on the solidity of the wooden planks beneath your feet, the sound of the waves against the hull of the ship. Soon, you tell yourself, you will be at Dragonstone, far from the madness of King.

The wind fills the sails of the ship as it cuts through the waves, the rhythmic rise and fall of the sea a steady backdrop to the tension that hangs in the air. The sun is dipping lower in the sky, casting the waters in a warm, golden hue, but the beauty of the scene does little to calm the storm within you. You stand on the deck, your gaze fixed on the iron cage where your dragon, your bond, waits restlessly.

The creature paces within the confines of its prison, its golden eyes flicking toward you with an almost knowing look, as if it can sense your inner turmoil, the conflict between duty and the strange, irresistible pull that has been growing ever stronger since you first laid eyes on it.

Beside you, Ser Arthur Dayne stands silently, his presence a comforting weight, a reminder that you are not alone in this. His silver armor gleams in the fading light, the sword at his side a symbol of the protection he has always offered you, even in the most dire of circumstances. Behind you, your mother, Queen Rhaella, stands with Ser Lewyn Martell and a handful of retainers, all of whom have chosen to accompany you and the queen on this journey to Dragonstone. Their expressions are a mix of concern and uncertainty, none of them quite sure what will happen next.

Arthur’s voice breaks the silence, soft but firm. "Are you sure about this, Y/N?"

You turn to him, meeting his gaze. The concern in his eyes is evident, but there is also a trust there, a belief in you that gives you strength. You nod, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "Yes, Arthur. This is something I must do."

He studies you for a moment longer, as if searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he finds none, he nods, stepping back slightly to give you space. You take a deep breath, feeling the salt air fill your lungs, the cool breeze against your skin. The moment has come, and you know there is no turning back.

With slow, deliberate steps, you approach the iron cage. The dragon inside, still young but already formidable, stops its pacing and watches you, its golden eyes locking onto yours. The connection between you flares to life, that strange bond you share surging with intensity. You feel it in your blood, in your very soul, a pull that goes beyond words or reason.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against the cold iron bars. The dragon shifts, lowering its head slightly, as if in acknowledgment. Your heart pounds in your chest, but there is a sense of rightness in this moment, a clarity that cuts through the fear and uncertainty.

Slowly, you unlatch the cage, the metal clanging softly as you pull the door open. The dragon hesitates for just a moment, as if testing the air, before it steps out, its movements fluid and graceful. The others on the deck watch in stunned silence, the anticipation is visible as they wait to see what will happen next.

As the dragon emerges fully from the cage, it spreads its wings, shaking them out as if testing their strength. It lets out a low, rumbling growl, more a sound of satisfaction than threat, and then it turns to you, its eyes glowing with that same golden light.

You feel the bond tighten, that pull in your chest growing stronger until it is almost overwhelming. And then, suddenly, you hear it again—that voice in your mind, the one that has haunted you ever since the ritual, the one that whispered dark and terrible things. But this time, the voice is different. It is clearer, more certain, and it speaks a single word: Terrax.

The name echoes in your mind, filling you with a strange sense of completion, as if something that was always meant to be has finally fallen into place. You whisper the name aloud, your voice trembling slightly. "Terrax."

The dragon’s eyes flash, and you feel a surge of recognition, a deep, primal understanding that passes between you. This is his name, the name that binds him to you, the name that seals the bond.

Arthur steps forward cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though his posture is more protective than threatening. "What did you say?"

"Terrax," you repeat, your voice stronger now. "That is his name."

Arthur’s gaze shifts to the dragon, his expression a mix of awe and concern. "You named him?"

You shake your head slightly, still trying to process the enormity of what just happened. "No... he named himself. I just... I just heard it."

Arthur’s brow furrows, but he does not question you further. He knows better than anyone how deeply intertwined your fate is with this creature, how the ritual that brought Terrax into the world also bound you to him in ways that neither of you fully understand.

Rhaella, who has been silent until now, steps closer, her eyes wide with both fear and wonder. "Y/N... what have you done?" she whispers, though there is no accusation in her tone, only a mother’s concern for her child.

"I’ve released him, Mother," you say, turning to face her. "I couldn’t keep him caged. He... he’s a part of me."

Rhaella’s expression softens, and she reaches out to touch your cheek, her hand trembling slightly. "You are so much like your father, in ways that both terrify and amaze me," she murmurs. "But you must be careful, Y/N. There are forces at work here that we do not fully understand."

"I know," you reply, your voice quiet but firm. "But I can’t ignore this. Terrax is mine, and I am his."

Ser Lewyn, who has been watching with wary eyes, steps forward, his voice calm but laced with concern. "Your Grace, if the dragon is to remain free, we must ensure he is properly guarded. Dragonstone is a place of power, but it is not without its dangers."

"Terrax will not be caged again," you say, your tone leaving no room for argument. "But he will not harm anyone unless provoked. I feel it... he knows who his enemies are."

Arthur exchanges a glance with Ser Lewyn, and then he nods. "We will keep him safe, Y/N. And we will keep you safe, too."

The tension eases slightly at his words, and you offer him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Arthur."

As the ship sails on toward Dragonstone, the sun sinking lower on the horizon, you stand beside Terrax who is perched on taffrail, your hand resting on his small, scaled flank. The bond between you is stronger than ever, a living connection that pulses with the rhythm of the sea and the beat of your heart.

You are no longer just a princess of House Targaryen. You are the mother of a dragon, and your fate is now entwined with his, bound together by the ancient forces of old Valyria.

The streets of King’s Landing are alive with the hum of daily life, the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread mingling with the less pleasant odors of the bustling city. The setting sun casts long shadows across the cobblestones, painting the world in shades of gold and orange. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen walks among his people, his presence alone enough to draw hushed whispers and admiring glances from the smallfolk. His silver hair catches the light, making him appear almost otherworldly, a living embodiment of the storied Valyrian bloodline.

Though he often brings his harp on such walks, today it remains in the Red Keep, for Rhaegar’s mind is heavy with thoughts too dark and tangled to be soothed by music. At his side, Ser Barristan Selmy, the most loyal of his Kingsguard, walks with a steady, measured pace, his watchful eyes scanning the crowd. Even in the heart of the city, danger is never far, and Barristan’s duty is to ensure that no harm befalls the prince.

As they move through the narrow streets, Rhaegar can hear the murmur of conversation, snatches of talk that filter through the air like the wind. The people adore him, even now, when the shadow of his father’s madness looms large over the realm. They speak of his kindness, his wisdom, and, more recently, his possible marriage to you, his sister. The idea of such a union has stirred a mix of hope and curiosity among the smallfolk, who see it as holding true to the old ways, a reaffirmation of House Targaryen’s ancient customs.

Rhaegar’s thoughts turn to you, the sister he has sworn to protect. He pictures your face, the strength you’ve shown despite everything, and the bond you now share with the dragon. One that ties you both to the darkest aspects of your family’s legacy. He remembers Varys’s words, spoken in the shadows of the Red Keep: “If the nature of her relationship with Ser Arthur becomes known, it will not just be Aerys’s wrath you need fear, but the whispers of treason, the seeds of rebellion. Even the gods cannot save her from the court’s judgment if this becomes public knowledge.”

A chill runs through him at the thought. He knows Varys speaks the truth; the court is a nest of vipers, and the truth of your relationship with Ser Arthur would be more than enough to destroy you—and by extension, him. He cannot let that happen. He will do whatever it takes to protect you, even if it means denying his own desires.

As they turn onto a broader avenue, the crowd parts slightly, and Rhaegar catches sight of a familiar figure moving toward them. Cersei Lannister, her golden hair shining like a beacon, approaches with a small entourage of Lannister guards and retainers. She is dressed in rich red and gold, the colors of her house, and she wears a smile that is both charming and calculating.

“Prince Rhaegar,” she greets him warmly, inclining her head with just the right amount of deference. “It is a pleasure to see you out among the people. They adore you, as well they should.”

Rhaegar offers a polite nod, though his expression remains distant. “Lady Cersei. It is always a pleasure to see you.”

Cersei steps closer, her green eyes gleaming with a mixture of ambition and something else—something deeper, more personal. “I heard the most delightful rumor today,” she says, her voice smooth and honeyed. “They say that you may soon be betrothed. To your sister, Y/N. How... traditional.”

Rhaegar inclines his head slightly. “Rumors often carry more weight than truth within the walls of the Red Keep,” he replies, his tone noncommittal.

Cersei’s smile widens, though there is a hint of steel beneath the sweetness. “Perhaps. But some rumors hold the promise of great alliances. The smallfolk are not the only ones interested in your future, my prince. There are many who believe a strong union could secure the stability of the realm—especially in these troubled times.”

She moves even closer, her voice lowering so that only Rhaegar can hear her next words. “House Lannister, for instance, has always stood ready to support the crown. We are the wealthiest house in Westeros, and our influence could be invaluable to your father... and to you, when the time comes.”

Rhaegar meets her gaze, recognizing the offer for what it is: a calculated move to entwine her family’s power with his own. Cersei’s ambition is as bright as her beauty, and while he understands the allure of such a match, his heart remains steadfast in its devotion. Not to her, but to you, and to the dangerous game he must now play to protect you.

“I appreciate the loyalty of House Lannister,” he replies, keeping his tone neutral. “The realm benefits greatly from your family’s wealth and influence.”

Cersei’s smile falters for just a fraction of a second, a flicker of frustration crossing her features before she recovers. “And it could benefit even more from a closer alliance,” she presses. “Together, our houses could usher in a new era of prosperity and peace. A union between us would be celebrated across the Seven Kingdoms.”

But Rhaegar’s mind is elsewhere, replaying Varys’s warnings, the weight of his responsibility to you, the unspoken truth that lies between you and Ser Arthur Dayne. He cannot allow himself to be swayed by Cersei’s words, no matter how tempting the prospect of a secure and powerful future might be.

“My duty is to the realm, Lady Cersei,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “And I must consider what is best for it. The future is uncertain, but I will always act in the interest of peace and stability.”

Cersei’s expression tightens, the charm slipping away to reveal a flash of cold determination. “Of course, my prince,” she replies, though the sweetness in her voice has turned brittle. “But remember, peace and stability often require strong alliances. And some alliances are stronger than others.”

Rhaegar nods, signaling the end of their conversation. “I thank you for your counsel, Lady Cersei. I will give it the consideration it deserves.”

She offers him one last smile, though it no longer reaches her eyes. “I hope you do, my prince. For all our sakes.”

With that, she turns and sweeps away, her Lannister entourage following in her wake like a pack of gilded lions. Rhaegar watches her go, a sense of unease settling over him. He knows Cersei will not give up easily, but his heart is resolute. His duty to the realm, to his sister, and to the truth is clear.

Ser Barristan, who has remained silent throughout the exchange, steps closer. “She is not one to be underestimated, my prince.”

“I know,” Rhaegar replies, his gaze distant. “But my path is already set. Whatever the cost, I must protect my sister, and ensure that our house survives the storm to come.”

Barristan nods, his respect for the prince evident in his eyes. “Then we shall be ready, whatever may come.”

Rhaegar resumes his walk through the city, though his thoughts remain troubled. The weight of the crown feels heavier with each passing day, and the future looms uncertain and dark. But he knows that, for now, his course is clear. He must guard the secrets that could destroy his family, even if it means walking a perilous line between duty and desire.

And above all, he must ensure that when the time comes, he is ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead—with or without the support of the lions of Lannister.

The wind whips through your hair as you stand on the balcony of your chambers, the salt air of the Narrow Sea filling your lungs. Below, the waves crash against the rocky shores of Dragonstone, their rhythm a constant reminder of the power and isolation of this ancient seat of your ancestors. The sky is overcast, but the clouds part just enough to allow slivers of sunlight to dance on the waters, turning the sea into a shimmering expanse of silver and gray.

Far in the distance, soaring above the waves, is Terrax. His black scales glisten in the weak sunlight, and his wings beat with a powerful grace that makes your heart swell with a mixture of pride and fear. No longer the size of a hound, Terrax has grown in the past months, now large enough to be mistaken for a small horse. He has claimed the fiery caverns of Dragonmont as his lair, where the heat of the volcano suits his nature. The dragon is fed a steady supply of cattle, and though he still has much growing to do, his presence has already brought a renewed sense of awe and reverence to this ancient fortress.

Yet despite the majesty of the dragon, a shadow hangs over your thoughts. The voices in your nightmares have returned, whispering dark and twisted things that leave you shaken and fearful. You clutch the stone balustrade of the balcony, trying to draw strength from the solidness of the ancient castle, but the whispers are persistent, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

A soft sound from behind you draws your attention, and you turn to see Ser Arthur Dayne stepping out onto the balcony. His presence is a balm to your troubled mind, and for a moment, the tension in your shoulders eases. Here on Dragonstone, away from the prying eyes of the court, you can afford a small measure of relaxation in each other’s presence. But even here, you must remain vigilant; the risk of discovery is always lurking in the back of your mind.

Arthur’s expression softens as he approaches, his lilac-gray eyes searching your face. "You’ve been out here for a while," he says quietly, his voice filled with concern. "Is everything all right?"

You offer him a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. "I find the sea calming," you reply, turning your gaze back to the horizon where Terrax is now a distant silhouette against the sky. "But even here, it’s hard to escape... the nightmares."

Arthur steps closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. The touch is gentle, comforting, and you lean into it, grateful for the warmth of his presence. "The nightmares are back?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. "Yes. The same voices, whispering in my ear. I... I fear I’m going mad, Arthur. Just like him." You don’t need to say your father’s name; the fear of Aerys’s madness running through your veins is a constant shadow that you’ve never been able to shake.

Arthur’s brow furrows, and he gently turns you to face him, his hands resting on your shoulders. "You are not going mad, Y/N," he says firmly, his voice grounding you in the moment. "You’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure, but you are strong. You’ve always been strong."

You shake your head, frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. "But these dreams, these voices... they feel so real. They say things that make my skin crawl, that make me doubt everything I know. Sometimes I think I can hear them even when I’m awake."

Arthur’s hands tighten slightly on your shoulders, a silent offer of support. "You are not your father, Y/N," he insists, his gaze never leaving yours. "Whatever these voices are, they do not define you. They do not control you."

"But what if they do?" you whisper, your voice trembling. "What if I’m losing myself, just like he did? What if Terrax is more than just a dragon to me? What if... what if he’s part of this madness?"

Arthur’s expression hardens, and he cups your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Listen to me," he says, his voice low and intense. "Terrax is not a curse. He is a part of you, yes, but he does not dictate who you are. You have a bond with him, a bond that is forged in something deeper than the madness of your father. It is your strength, not your weakness."

You search his eyes, finding only sincerity and the unshakable belief he has in you. The warmth of his hands against your skin anchors you, and slowly, the cold knot of fear in your chest begins to loosen.

"You’re not alone in this," Arthur continues, his voice softer now. "I’m here, and I will do whatever it takes to help you through this. We will find a way to silence these voices, to banish these nightmares."

A tear escapes the corner of your eye, and you lean into his touch, drawing comfort from the man who has been your steadfast protector, your secret love, in the midst of all the chaos. "Thank you, Arthur," you murmur, your voice barely more than a breath.

He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture that is both tender and filled with unspoken promises. "Always," he replies.

For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and simply breathe, the sound of the sea and the distant cry of Terrax filling your senses. Here, with Arthur by your side, the voices seem further away, their power over you diminished. You can still feel them at the edges of your mind, but they are no longer overwhelming. 

When you finally open your eyes, the fear is still there, but it is tempered by the knowledge that you are not facing this alone. You have Arthur, you have Terrax, and you have your own strength—strength that you will need to draw on in the days and months to come.

"We should go back inside," Arthur says softly, though there is a reluctance in his voice. "It wouldn’t do for someone to see us out here alone for too long."

You nod, though you linger for a moment longer, casting one last glance at Terrax, who is now circling back toward the island, his powerful wings cutting through the air with ease. There is something majestic, something undeniable about the dragon, and despite your fears, you can’t help but feel a deep connection to him, one that transcends the nightmares and the whispers.

With a final sigh, you allow Arthur to lead you back inside, where the warmth of the castle wraps around you like a comforting embrace. The darkness of your fears may still lurk, but here, within these ancient walls, you have found something to hold onto—hope. 

[flrboyd]

All this Taylor and Travis content have me feeling for a hangman x pop singer reader ff who shows up at a longhorns game with him and they spend time in the readers studio together.

[stray-kaz]

Out of Bounds : a Jake Seresin x reader FF : I

Summary: Jake comes across something he can never pass up: a prize he’s been told he cannot win.

A/N: I did not plan on having this be longer than a oneshot, but the idea got more fleshed out as I thought it over, so it’s likely to be three to five chapters long instead.

Please let me know what you think so far!

Warning: A smidge of saucy language.

“Who’s the pretty little thing over there with Bob?” Jake asked Natasha, drinking you in from afar.

She raised her perfect dark eyebrows at him and shook her head.

“Nuh uh, Bagman, no way. She is majorly out of your jurisdiction.”

Jake looked away from you to stare at Natasha instead, taken aback.

“Why?” he demanded. “Is she his girlfriend? If you say she is, I’m not going to believe you.”

Natasha shook her head again and patted him with faux sympathy on the shoulder.

“Worse, much worse for you, sky cowboy. She’s his little sister.”

Bob clocked the direction of Jake’s burning gaze and moved to physically block his view, but you had already noticed.

“Who’s the golden boy keeping an eye on me?” you asked, intrigued.

“That’s Jake” your brother answered grudgingly. “He’s one of the best pilots here.”

“Huh” you muttered. “Men like him don’t usually look twice at me. Interesting.”

Bob scoffed. 

“No” he started to argue. “Not interesting. Count yourself lucky men like him don’t usually look twice at you. Stay away from him.”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Man, you must really hate him to warn me off. You’ve never done that before.”

Bob sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding his glasses down a bit.

“I don’t hate him” he said, almost growling. “I’ve never had to warn you off before because no one ever turned your head.”

You smiled warmly and kissed Bob’s cheek, patting his shoulder lightly.

“Big brother, my head has been turned once or twice, you just never saw it.”

He groaned and slung an arm over your shoulders, knocking his head gently against yours.

“I still don’t need to see it, little sister. Eyes up and hands off the golden boy.”

You started to head off in the exact direction Bob didn’t want you to go, and he reached out to snatch at your wrist, loosely caging it with his fingers. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Just to say hi to Phoenix” you replied, and pulled free.

Natasha looked up at your approach and cast a quick glance at Jake, who was eyeing you as you stepped closer and closer. Finally, you reached them and hugged Natasha, propping your chin on her shoulder to meet Jake’s gaze.

“So, my brother has warned me off you” you said, arching your eyebrows at him. “Anyone know why that is?”

Natasha snorted and stepped back, briefly squeezing your hands.

“Well, for one, we call him Bagman because he always leaves us high and dry” she told you, grinning up at the man in question.

You watched Jake closely, his green eyes narrowing on you when your gaze didn’t drop, his perfect spun gold hair threatening to fall over his forehead but not quite managing.

“Well, I’d say he leaves a woman or two high, but I doubt he’s ever left one dry” you murmured wryly.

Natasha choked and Jake’s eyes widened in surprise before a well practiced smirk curled the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I sure didn’t expect that attitude from Bob’s sister” he told you, something lighting behind his eyes. “I thought you’d be quiet, like him.”

“Oh, I am, but not when it counts” you replied, flushing under his stare.

“Is that so? You can get loud, darlin’?” Jake pressed on, drawing out the teasing.

Natasha covered her ears with her hands and walked away, pulling a face. She could see Bob watching you and Jake flirting, his jaw set sharply and his eyebrows drawn together in a furious frown. She stopped in front of him with her arms folded.

“I feel for you, I really do” she said somberly. 

Bob blinked at her, puzzled.

“What?” he asked, a little blank.

“There’s no stopping that runaway train, my friend. Hangman is gonna reel that girl in like a fish and he is never gonna throw her back” she answered. 

Bob sighed heavily and nodded.

“I was worried about that” he muttered. “What is he saying to her?”

Natasha glanced back over at where you and Jake were standing, and winced. He had stepped closer to you, his hands in his pockets, leaning in towards you slightly. Your arms were crossed over your chest, but your head was tipped back and your hips were slanted toward Jake.

She looked back at Bob.

“They are having a conversation with their body language and you don’t want to hear it.”

He groaned and turned his back, walked away a half dozen feet, and then changed direction, stormed over to stand so close to Jake they were almost touching. Your eyes widened as you stared up at your big brother, and Jake turned to meet Bob’s gaze head on with the barest flinch.

“Can I help you?” he asked pointedly.

Bob nodded abruptly and jabbed a finger in your direction.

“If you hurt her, they’ll never find your body” he promised, and left them standing there in shock.

No pressure tag : @withahappyrefrain​

[pixiedust-poppers]

Okay so after you reblogged my post about jatnp I’ve been stalking your blog and I didn’t realize there was a fandom for this show?!?

Anyways while I was looking down your blog I kept getting more questions so I figured I’d do it all in one ask.

Do you think all the Disney neverland stuff exists in the same universe (the Disney verse or just specifically the neverland stuff) and if you do what’s your explanation for the discrepancies. Ex the missing lost boys in jatnp and then the lost boys showing up in Peter pan 2 or Captain Hook not knowing how to use pixie dust in jatnp but he flies well in the pirate fairy etc? I have some of my own theories that I’ve been adding to my notes app of Disney timeline from Covid but I’d love to hear someone who is clearly a strong fan, since you definitely would be more knowledgeable than me.

And if you don’t think that it’s the same universe, like athena p (ooh name twins), that YouTuber who made a video on jatnp (thank you for posting that on your blog, it was a very enjoyable watch - she has a stf video?!?! That show was my Covid) or do you have a different theory on why / how it’s not the same timeline.

Also going off of athena p’s video what’s your thoughts on the time loop / fairy’s controlling everything theory that athena p mentions?

And then what are your ships? By what I’m seeing for your posts and reblogs that Izzy is basically shipable with anyone. Anyways I’d love to hear your favourites.

And then I’ve seen you mention fanfiction, have you written any on ao3 or Wattpad? I’d love to read it.

Along with that if you have any ff recommendations with either grown up / aged up crew or darker themes, that’s something I’d read.

And then this is my half baked theory but how do you think the doubloons come from? Because it’s like green pixie dust do you think it’s another form of fairy alchemy zarina created that’s like transportation? Idk if that’s a popular fanon theory or if it’s a stupid idea that is easily disproved.

Along with that what do you think the origins of the crew are? (Because I’ve seen some mentions of izzy being adopted by fairies which is very interesting)

Ok that’s all you don’t have to answer everything, I’m not sure if one big ask is preferable to a whole bunch or smaller asks, but what’s done is done.

Well well. this took a few days to craft. Its a bit of a long one so buckle up, I decided to do this all in one go, because it makes more sense than breaking it up even though it would be faster. So enjoy this long-ass ask…

cracks knuckles Ok Let’s break this down 

Yes! Yes hello! We are very small, but we are here!

To start off, I don’t think it's in the same universe as the regular Disney neverland, or well they could be but you would have to cut out certain episodes to make it work. Also JATNP’s neverland would mess with the Original Peter Pan movie/Neverland universe, timeline + world the movies have set. So Jatnp is just in another version of Neverland that’s a mix of the Disney property and some elements from the original book. Because in Peter pan remember they don’t like Pirates so why would Peter have a pirate team in this movie? The boys would be lost boys and Izzy wouldn’t be here. But Peter Pan obviously happened (in Jake’s universe), but he never told either group about one another for some reason, like Jake and his crew didn’t know about Wendy till literally that night when Peter asked them to go get her. But Wendy + the brothers did meet the lost boys as she lead them to The Hangman’s tree, where hammocks and Peter’s bear throne was set up as well as some of the brother’s things were there (no Jake and his crew didn’t know where this was, implying that he ALSO never told them about this or the Lost Boys) Speaking of lost boy’s where are they? It’s obvious why the Native Americans are not mentioned but The Lost Boys, I can only assume that they weren’t in Jatnp because of money reasons or that the animators didn’t want to animate six more kids? For show reasons, you could theorize that the lost boys left once they realize they all missed having mothers and are now out in London with their adopted families, and Peter never told Jake and his crew about Wendy, or the lost boys was because he didn’t want them getting the idea of leaving. After all he DID bring them to neverland to protect it and they can’t do that if you present them with the idea of how the others left lol

But judging by the pitch bible, these guys (minus izzy) were supposed to be the lost boys Jake was originally named Slightly and Nibs... well Nibs, and Cubby while not exactly like Curly there is some semblance, or maybe they were place holder names until they could finalize things. I mean if you’re a showrunner trying to pitch to your boss that “hey we should re-visit that Peter Pan property again, but this time make it preschool show and more pirate!” you are going to have to sell them that certain characters could totes work and once it gets approve either rework them or drop them once you realize they don’t work. 

*Quick Peter interlude- He also couldn’t be the same movie Peter because he’s just. Too nice, less childish and older brother-y in the series, to be considered his movie counterpart. But he seems lowkey negligent of them considering whenever he comes these kids are willing to do just about anything for his undivided attention.

As For Captain Hook, you’re just going to have to take Zarina out of your mind for this show’s canon. I’m sure the other Disney fairies do exist but for Jatnp, his history with that woman just does not exist and I don’t think they ever intended to make it so. He’s ‘supposed’ to be Hook from the original movie not from the Disney fairies’ movies. The Pirate fairy didn’t debut till 2014 and by that point the show was already on for 4 years why they never did a ‘crossover’ or have a pr marketing thing to promote the movie is beyond me, especially since she’s a pirate and all. I guess they thought girl related pirate things and fairies wouldn’t sell??? … then again Pixie hollow online did shut down in 2013..I guess Disney didn’t think fairy anything was worth heavily promoting? Dunno.

But back to the show’s canon, you could put Zarina in there (like the rest of the fairies) and Hook either distantly remembers her or doesn’t remember her period since that was a long time ago, and who knows how long it’s been since he’s aged? (Continued below)

Speaking of aging let’s go into that Time loop. But before that my thoughts on the video, I’ll admit... It wasn’t my favorite. I feel like she skimmed over alot about the series and the certain things within it for example, time does pass in neverland as they do have holidays and seasons (well ... just winter apparently). And the idea of Sharky and Bones being the ultimate gods behind the scenes of things, I just no, if I wanted to really care about pirate men in a more meaningful way, I would watch Pirates of Caribbean or Our Flags Mean Death. And I wished she focused on the kids more because they are their own little individuals and there some points you can bring about their dynamic that are like ‘wtf?’ for example, Jake never leaves his friends with a sword or his previous ones to protect themselves when he gets a new one. Or when he does give over his sword, he always gives it to cubby for some reason despite Izzy being his first mate. Then Izzy, she clowned on my girl so badly that she didn’t bring up the point that Izzy from beginning to end the only useful thing she got from peter or neverland is the pixie dust, while the boys got more (i.e. Jake… everything and Cubby a map, a compass, learning magic with Beardini) meanwhile she’s also pushed to side in favor of letting the boys shine, she does get her episodes don’t get me wrong . (Also, it’s interesting because the series tries to show that girls and women can be the lead, be captains and princess without being tied to men… but it fails because Red Jessica, Molly, and Winger were clearly made to be love interest. Misty, the PP, Queen Caroline, and Marina fades from recurring to basically non-existent. The only woman to make to the S3 final was Beatrice and then poof she is gone. Leaving Izzy, who slowly loses her usefulness + main identity as the less they go on adventures together and the more Jake just solves the issues with his sword and they give her NOTHING ELSE to focus on or anything, despite her being close with the mermaids, knowing a lot about neverland + its items, and she’s willing to adventure by herself if the boys don’t give a shit about what interest her. Not counting Wendy + Tinkerbell they’re special characters.) Which I find both sad but also a bit ??? considering if you look in her gallery on the Fandom wiki under merchandise has her own ship and they also give her a sword with one of her minifigures, so they could have given her more things but they just never did. But I will say her line at 1:12:14 (“And Izzy turns invisible, just like every other girl in this series”) did get a laugh out me and unfortunately, she is telling the truth. BUT I also know that Athena was Busy with important IRL things and JATNP is ALOT especially when you factor in the other Neverland universe so it can get overwhelming and she was already stressed about the video so while I’m still happy we got the video, I think that some things could be improved. 

But ANWAY BACK TO TIMELOOP. I think its an interesting theory that could explain why Hook or the others don’t emotionally mature and there’s something that is just devastating about that, because he can be shown to change but because of this time loop he is unable to and in the end no matter what lesson he learns will be fruitless because the loop just resets and he's back to square one. It’s honestly sad if you think about it because if you think about it with the Kids, he could learn to be a better person (sort of) and eventually realize that it's time to move on. He can’t chase Peter forever. But Neverland will always need a villain and even with all the threats they continue to introduce no has come as close to matching the Icon that is Captain hook, plus Peter doesn’t give a shit about them lmao, who’s going to be his biggest hater other than hook. 

But I do not think that the fairies are doing all this, I think it’s neverland itself. I was told by @/perciouslittletoonette that the neverland in the book can apparently physically stop and hold you in place you from entering it if it doesn’t want you there. Also, that it’s always moving?? (towards Peter) AND can also look into your mind and see if you want to go somewhere and if it does not want you there it can fuck with its own geography and make something that takes usually 30 min to get to a 2-day trip. Which is so terrifying that I have to make neverland responsible for all the mindfuck things that can possibly happen and considering that this island geography changes almost daily for these kids I can’t fathom other horrifying shit this sentient island can do. Also, since it can also make you forget about your past life and according to Battle for the book, Neverland itself entirely if wendy’s book is away from them for a long period of time…Yeeeeeeeeah this island is fucked, why did Peter leave these kids in the vicinity of this place.

The doubloons? I have no idea where those things come from, hell the island probably just teleports them from other various hidden treasures around Neverland when the kids survive or do sometimes it deem as morally good as both a reward and motivation but also as compensation. Because I’m not sure how the fairies would know of all the kids happen without them noticing the fairies at least ONCE. so, this is probably the island’s magic again. But I do think it would be funny if the doubloons just came from the bottom of their team treasure because their chest is so full that they don’t even notice them missing. 

Now onto origins! Jake + Cubby are obviously from the Mainland, because they recognize a lot of sport and modern objects that show up on pirate island. Hook doesn’t, which is why he often takes their things and then doesn’t know what to do with them which then brings up the question “Hey if it's 1906 in London…where did Peter get these kids from?” In which my only thought is that when he was traveling in the lands beyond the neversea after the lost boys left, he went through a different star and landed in a new era of the mainland and on a different continent each time. For example, I think he got Jake from Britain (so he’s British), Cubby from Scandinavia (Sweden; I headcanon him as German/Swedish, yes, he can still speak both.). Izzy is Latina/French (she would be from the US, specifically Miami) if she’s from the mainland.

 I say “If” because I’m not sure Izzy is from the mainland. Listen, this girl knows too much shit about this island, and the artifacts + legends within it at 7 years old. Which brings up this theory that I saw in a fic and really liked it, and it’s that Izzy is from the mainland, but she has already been in Neverland for DECADES before she ever met Jake and Cubby (in case you're wondering how long she has been missing in the fic she has apparently been missing since 1907, she was born in 1900. Jake was born in 1935, cubby in 1941. And she doesn’t meet them until 1944 and 1948 with the forever quest taking place in 1950.) I could not imagine being stuck in this place for 43 goddamn YEARS, I do not know how she did not go insane by 1917 (well she did later... But like for different reasons) Remember this is someone else’s interpretation but I really do like this as an explanation on why she knows too much shit about neverland. My theory that does not involve the mainland is simply the island quite literally created her. Peter was Gone, maybe the lost boys followed him and the island was lonely and with some help of the natives and fairies, boom made herself a child so it wouldn’t be lonely. Yes, I do think a sentient island can do this, this thing is like an eldritch cosmic being to me. And to make a long story short; Izzy was created (no infant-toddler period; she was just born a child) by the island to replace Peter + Lost boys, then it lured her to the dense part of the jungle once they returned and basically trapped her there via endless jungle loop. This side of the jungle also just so happens to hold the fairies and Pixie Hollow and they eventually take izzy in as their own. ….I’m still trying to think about the rest of this but this is the general idea and I KNOW this would be easily debunked by watching Pirates sitting pirates but whateverrrrr, headcanons rule. Now for the fun stuff. Ships* and Fics

*I should note that like my other fandom, if a ship doesn’t involve my favorite character, then I’m either neutral or I don’t care. Unless I vehemently hate it for reasons.

Jake/Izzy - From a shipper to anti-jizzy to once again liking it, the essay I could write about these two and how despite my early love for it, the fandom basically made me fall out of love with them, because no one ever went anything beyond surface level and no one ever did anything new - it was crush -> love -> marriage -> shitton kids -> that’s it, nothing interesting with it. OR when someone did, it was once again the most surface level shit (Abuse and SA, no they did not explore the complex trauma that comes with Izzy being Abused by Jake, someone she has trusted for years, Also no Jake faced no consequences.) and became “oh it was just a ‘’’mistake’’’, we’re still besties”, and in the end they got married and kids anyway. So it was the same method but with unnecessary steps that doesn’t affect their dynamic in a scenario where it def should. Also, I’m not saying that traditional fluff and love between them can’t be done but when you see it over 1000 times and can predict the end result each time, it got boring.  

But to me now (going to overanalyze the hell out them for a moment excuse me), Jake x Izzy could be the interesting case of “We’ve known each other for DECADES, I’ve seen you at your highest and I’ve seen your absolute worst, yet I will still be by your side till the end. I know I won’t find someone like you again.” They’re so familiar with one another that trying to do the same with someone else from a different planet (earth) would take alot of time so why bother? I also think they ground each other in a way that they both do need, Jake for example sometimes need to be told No and that he’s being reckless, and Izzy is going to do that in a really blunt manner. Or sometimes Jake will have to be the one to calm her down and not be so hotheaded and not let the first things that slip out her mouth be something that is hurtful or rude, but to more empathetic and be nicer. I know it’s not their original personalities. But please bear with me I’m trying to make them less as a unit and more individual-

John Darling/izzy - Nerd x nerd come on. His gentleman Bri ish swag won her over, and they’re very cute when they interact. I think that if Izzy were to leave neverland and stay with him I think they would be okay, though that depends if he survives WW1 if he doesn’t then I think that she would go back to Neverland or maybe emigrate to America or something... That got dark fast uh anyways-. 

Marina/Izzy - You said something about tragic sapphic relationship? I’m here for it. Now you could do this cute thing, where after they realize it’s pointless to have beef over liking the same boy, he’s probably not interested anyway so what’s the point of being enemies? And their relationship begins to heal, and they become close friends again and then realize “holy shit... I like her.” and boom love. They are now in a relationship yay!

Now let's think about this tragedy, come walk with me a bit- Who do you think is willing to sacrifice their livelihood for the other? After all, Marina is a mermaid and Izzy is a human Pirate with legs. The question is “Do you love me enough to become a mermaid forever or have legs forever?” Because while I’m sure both options have their pros they most certainly have their cons. Cons for Marina being - her family is down there, her livelihood and things she holds dear, the ocean and its creatures are important to her and who says the potion that makes her human is reversible and what will you have to sacrifice for said potion? Such a spell doesn’t come for free you know. Then there’s Izzy, she’s a pirate, I know she’s pushed to the background, but she enjoys her life going on adventures and the fairies still trust her with pixie dust. Not saying there isn’t adventure in the ocean as well but one might go insane with how much blue and ocean there is, not to mention that most of her friends would still be on the surface so who will she communicate with? Who is willing to constantly go out on adventures with her that farther and farther out of the mermaid's comfort zone?

I could see Marina being worried whenever Izzy goes off with Jake on more dangerous and dangerous adventures, and don’t let them be adventures where they go beyond the neversea. She wants to sail alongside them to make sure Izzy will be safe but at the same time, she doesn’t want to venture far because she knows if she’s captured out there then she’ll be mermaid meat. Each time Izzy comes back there is a new scar from battle and she wonders one day if Jake will bring back her corpse. Izzy knows there are no reassuring words she can give Marina that will relieve her worry. You can consider their relationship a constant worry “What if you never return?” and the other trying to downplay the very real possibility that she CAN die.

✨crossover👑

Sofia (yes the first) x Izzy - Pirate x princess girl edition boom. A very sweet relationship and Izzy would probably tell sofia to sit the hell down every once in a while. 

Amber x Izzy - Pirate x Princess enemies to lovers’ girl edition. I’m pretty sure Izzy and Amber would buttheads more often than not. But I do think they can encourage and bring out different sides of one another for the better... Or for worse!

Fics!

Oh gooood do I! 

One of my favorite fics of all time is this one from ficbook

Часть 1, Тонущий корабль — фанфик по фэндому «Джейк и пираты Нетландии» (ficbook.net) (Sinking ship) - Oh my god. The concept that Izzy was supposed to be the new Peter Pan and Jake was supposed to be the new Captain Hook. But Jake being selfish and wanting to be Peter pan himself because he thinks he’s worthy of it. He basically spits on the crew’s friendship and changes his destiny. Leaving Izzy to go to Captain Hook and tells him to train her to be like him. (Cubby stayed with her, she couldn’t bear to leave him to someone like Jake, who already abandoned him). And in the end, she fills his role both figuratively and literally. Girl. She fucking WILLINGLY feeds her hand to tick tock croc to LITERALLY fill his role, took his hook and everything. That is so fucking metal of her, and I love her for it. It’s a good read, I really recommend it. Sad ending tho :(

Часть 1, Потерянные детки — фанфик по фэндому «Джейк и пираты Нетландии» (ficbook.net) (Lost Kids) - BITTERSWEET. The trio just trying to do their best to stay sane on an island they so desperately want to leave but can’t. It's mostly from the third Povs of Jake and izzy but still I can’t help but feel for these guys. It does make you wonder, what if these kids want to leave someday, once they get tired of being pirates will the island or Peter let them leave? If not, then why? How many times have they tried to get out? It makes you think.

I am the Psycho Pirate Chapter 1: What Happened?, a jake and the never land pirates fanfic | FanFiction Jake gets back from traveling with Peter from the lands beyond the neversea and the weird thing? He has grown up to the age of 15 AND neverland is quiet AND half of pirate island is burned down, Cubby is acting strange yet bitter toward him. Skully is nowhere to be seen and Izzy is as well. Yet there are rumors going around about this Psycho Pirate… who is this psycho pirate and why is everyone being so weird about it. The abuse Izzy and cubby suffer through in flashbacks will get dark, particularly for Izzy so uh content warning for physical abuse and sexual assault. The sequel is currently still in progress! So, after you read this and maybe the prequel if you can stomach it, check it out!

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 1 - Seerless - Jake and the Never Land Pirates [Archive of Our Own] It's unfinished but it's basically about the crew breaking apart and going their separate ways and what they go through during this period away. But they’re going to reunite in the end dw. So far only Izzy and Cubby’s chapters are out but they’re still a good read. The Hand is Gone - TheBackyardigirl - Jake and the Never Land Pirates [Archive of Our Own] Evil Peter hours! And he gives Jake the hook treatment! and it's very well written and a bit gory too. But Jake stumbles around as he loses blood all the while trying to comprehend why Peter did this to him, leaving an ambiguous ending. I really hope the author comes back and does a part 2 :[

[Content warning for physical abuse and some sexual abuse for these next to fics, I’m so serious if you are uncomfortable with stuff like that don’t read these]

Peter's Wrath Chapter 1: The abuse begins, a jake and the never land pirates fanfic | FanFiction We got evil Peter hours again hellll yeah! Not on purpose this time, however, though it might seem that way. This is purely Peter verbally and physically abusing them the fic and them trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with him. It can get brutal but does get ridiculous towards the end especially when they figure out what's wrong with him. If you think he’s going to jail after this you will be disappointed. 

The Wrath's Revenge Chapter 1: Prologue, a jake and the never land pirates fanfic | FanFiction

Sequel to Peter’s Wrath, my Roman fucking empire. This is from Izzy’s pov and if you thought Izzy had suffered enough under Peter, Jake is about to show you he needs to be locked up immediately. This is Izzy just being domestically abused and she’s only 11. You're going to question why she didn’t just run or try to blind him with pixie dust at points. Also shit will get very brutal and bordering on Sexual assault towards the end. However, it's the ending that makes me lose my fucking mind, the WAY that Izzy gets Jake back to normal is the Stupidest fucking idea I’ve seen simply because if you were to try to apply it to a real-life situation, it absolutely wouldn’t fucking work and the assaulter would just laugh in your face and probably think you want it more. And then he faces NO consequences for his actions, and Izzy somehow isn’t weary, or nervous or doesn’t feel any negative emotions or feeling from this simply because he was “possessed” MY ASS. That being said, this fic for me is important because when I read it when I was young, it was something that was new and violent and it involved Jizzy no less, so while it might not be the greatest thing in the world, it’s a nostalgia read. 

Now to end this, I do have an ao3! It's MaggotsMeat. If you’ve looked on there and Saw a work named “Clarity” that’s my writing!^^ I have a lot more WIPs in my google docs lol that I can barely focus on but I do hope to crank them out soon and write more… eventually!

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve

Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Talks of death, Lots of anxiety, Reader has a mental breakdown kind of, Abandonment issues surface hardcore, Talk of curses, Talk of magic, Major angst, Sea shanty, Feelings of hopelessness, Davy Jones reveal! I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4.2k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The port of St. Augustine was much like any other port you had found yourself in. The marketplace bustled with activity, the sellers promoting their wears as others scurried about to and fro on the streets. The sun beat down, casting a fog of humidity that threatened to choke the air from your lungs.

It had been two weeks since the serpent’s attack, and the crew of the Hangman had been stranded in the large port, sequestering themselves to one of the local pubs until repairs to the broken mast were finished.

Jake had been in a foul mood since the encounter, the looming deadline heavy on his mind, and on more than one occasion you had woken up to the sound of his distressed murmurs as he slept beside you. He had flat out refused to leave your side for longer than a few minutes since the attack, anxiety and distress coloring his features every time you looked at him. You knew he feared losing you, you could feel it in the way he held you these days, the end drawing nearer with each passing of the sun across the horizon. But wasn’t it you who should be afraid of losing him? You weren’t the one in danger of falling victim to a curse.

A bothersome fly pulled you from your thoughts, the whining of its movement sparking irritation in your chest. It was too damn hot for the pesky thing to be bothering you. You pulled your hand out from under your chin, swatting at the insect as it flew just out of your reach. It zoomed back towards you, wings fluttering in your face as if to taunt you. An exasperated exhale escaped your lips as you glared daggers at the offending beast.

“You look miserable.”

You turned to see Nat approaching you slowly, a wry smile on her lips as you gave her a tight-lipped smile—an attempt you were sure came out as more of a grimace than an actual smile. You wiped the sweat drenched strand of hair out of your face, offering her a shrug as you turned your attention back to the street outside. She sighed, coming up to sit at the sill beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the different groups of people as they flitted about the street. The silence grew more tense as the time dragged on, and you could tell that Natasha wanted to say something to you. Glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you saw her chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

“How’s Mickey today?” You asked her. His screams of agony were still fresh in your mind, the scarlet on his clothes vivid in your mind as he writhed on the decks of the ship. Javy had been the one to stop the blood flow, securing the bandage around Mickey’s thigh tight enough to put a temporary fix to the problem without causing more damage. You watched as Javy and Reuben picked Mickey up on either end, carrying him towards the cabins. Mickey had already passed out, a layer of sweat coating his pallid skin. Nausea roiled in your stomach, your breathing coming out in quick spurts.

You jumped as Jake came up behind you, brushing your hand with his fingertips. Your eyes darted towards him, unease settled deep in your bones.

“Is he going to be okay?” You whispered, looking at the captain for any kind of answer. Jake sucked in a breath, and it occurred to you that you had never seen him look so at a loss.

“I don’t know,” he answered, hanging his head. His hands flexed at his side before balling them into tight fists. You looked from him back towards the sea. The serpent and the British ship were already out of sight as the Hangman limped towards shore. You were sure the men on the other ship were all dead, the serpent’s hunger sated until the next unsuspecting ship made its way into the waters.

“Those men,” you continued, brow furrowing in thought. “The one’s the serpent-”

You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, pressing your lips into a thin line as Jake glanced at you, waiting.

“Are they dead?” You asked, looking back at him. You didn’t know how the curse worked in cases like this. Yes, they could be hurt. You knew that much. But would something like what had just occurred be enough to kill them?

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he dared to look back towards the water.

“I hope so.”

You had reached the port of St. Augustine early the next morning, the cold light of dawn at your backs as each crew member heaved a weary sigh. Reuben had departed the ship as soon as the gangway was in place, running to find a doctor to see after Mickey. The rest of the crew waited around anxiously, some busying themselves with tasks around the ship as everyone waited for news on Mickey’s condition.

“He’s doing a lot better today,” Nat told you, a tired grunt leaving her lips as she settled further back against the wall. You nodded, closing your eyes in a bid to ignore the heat that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still look miserable,” she prodded, earning a less than enthused grunt from you. You sighed, leaning up and stretching out your shoulders.

“I suppose I could be doing better,” you admitted, finally turning your full attention to her. She pressed her lips together, humming in agreement.

“The deadline is only a few days away,” she said, and your heart jumped at the reminder before curling in on itself. Her words were the exact reason you had been keeping to yourself the past week, dread filling you down to your very soul as the days loomed and the dreaded deadline approached faster and faster. The anxiety kept you awake well into the night, clawing at your mind until it was all you could think about. You hadn’t known sleep in days.

“Jake’s been awfully tense,” she pressed. “Rightfully so, I guess. Javy won’t show it, but I know he’s worried too. I can see it in the way he holds his shoulders. He fidgets more than usual too when he’s nervous. I do my best to soothe his worries, and I think he forgets for a little while, but…”

Her voice drifts off to silence, an air of uncertainty surrounding her. You understood what she was feeling. The moments of sleep Jake could get were spent in fitful movements as even his unconscious mind was unable to find peace amongst the chaos. You would curl up closer to him in those moments, resting your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. Fingers would glide up and down his arm, and your presence seemed to calm him enough that he would still, if only for a little while. You asked him early on what he dreamed of in those moments, but his eyes would glaze over as his lips pressed firm, a faraway look in his eyes before he would shake his head and walk away, shoulders hunched as if in defeat.

Bradley didn’t fare much better when you tried talking to him. The usually playful, happy-go-lucky man you knew and loved had all but disappeared. All that was left was a shell of a man who looked and sounded like your brother, but seemed to be a complete stranger to you now in these past days. You had tried talking to him, to get a sense of where his head was at, but much like your captain, no words would leave his lips. He would only stare at you, almost looking through you before turning and walking away.

You felt like you would lose your mind, like the concern and anxiety was building up so completely within you. It reminded you of how your mother once was when your father would leave for his voyages.

She’d pace around the house, busying herself with as many tasks as she could—sometimes repeating them two or three times in a bid to keep her hands busy and mind from drifting towards thoughts of the unimaginable. On more than one occasion, you’d come home to find her staring out towards the water, a faraway look in her eye. You always wondered what she was thinking about in those moments, but now you were sure you knew.

“I don’t think it’s possible to forget the ocean’s secrets,” you replied, focusing once more on the busy street outside. “The ocean will always remind you why it’s not to be crossed.”

Natasha didn’t respond, only looked at you. You didn’t acknowledge her, letting your mind wander to thoughts of what would happen if you all were to fail. Would the curse turn them into mindless monsters? Would the change be immediate? Or would you lose those you hold most dear slowly as their unslaked desire coursed through their veins for eternity?

Your friend heaved a heavy sigh before standing. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it before turning on her heels and walking away. You wished you could provide her with some kind of comfort, some certainty that things would be okay. But, you could hardly convince yourself of it, let alone another.

The afternoon passed slowly, your vigil by the window continuing on even as the pub filled with sailors and your own crew. Mickey had managed to heal enough to walk, though his usually golden skin still seemed somewhat dull after his experience. The crew drank as if there were no tomorrow, and you supposed there might not be. Locals took up space by the piano, different jigs and tunes ringing out amongst the crowd as several people joined in with lyrics. You wished you could join in the merriment, bring yourself to forget for just one moment that a mere guess wouldn’t decide your fate.

Jake, Bradley, and the rest of your friends sat hunched around one of the tables across from where you sat, none of them able to meet your gaze, and a mixture of anger and loneliness filled you. Is this what your days would look like? Would they go off and leave you behind to face a life of solitude? Would they expect you to forget them?

For another moment, you were reminded once again of your mother, only this time you remembered her as she waited for that last voyage. You could tell that something was different that time, the air more tense as she paced around your home. The song she would hum under her breath the only sound she would make for days. You thought of that song, how lonely and full of despair the words sounded. You thought of how sad your mother always sounded every time she would sing it, and before you even realized, the words were leaving your lips quietly, slowly building to be heard above the hum of conversation filling the room.

“I thought I heard the Old Man say: ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her.’ Tomorrow you will get your pay, and it's time for us to leave her.”

Several heads turned towards you as you sang, your voice clear as you felt the emotion you had worked so hard to keep tamped down swirl within you.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation died down now, and you supposed you would feel self conscious under normal circumstances, but something within you longed to break free and be heard. You had long stayed quiet in fear of upsetting those around you with your own feelings. Of course, you had had your few moments where you couldn’t keep the worries and feelings within you, your fears bursting forth and out of you over the past few months on sea.

“Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ She shipped it green and none went by. And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation had stopped completely at this point, but you were only vaguely aware of your audience. The words themselves haunted you, and you knew how your mother had felt all those years ago. You wondered if she felt the exact moment she had lost your father to the sea.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

Had your father been scared in his final moments? Did the waves tower over him life in the song you now sang? Had he faced the towering waves head on in the way he faced everything in life? Or had looking death in the face been too much for him? Did he think of you? Your mother? Bradley? Or did he lament the things he hadn’t done, the things he had failed to do?

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ No grog allowed and rotten grub. And it's time for us to leave her.”

Several people within the pub now joined in your singing, voices ringing out in unison. For the first time since you started, you dared a look over at the table where the others sat. Remorse colored both Jake and Bradley’s faces, the whisper of tears in their eyes as they watched you. Your heart squeezed so tight, you wondered for a moment if it would burst. You hadn’t meant for the tears to flow, and you were shocked when a cool, night breeze blew in from outside, cooling the trickle that streamed down your cheeks.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You choked on the words, unable to continue as those around you continued on. Your world would change in a few days, and there was nothing you could do about it. For the first time, hope seemed too far out of reach, slipping through your grasp as the realization that you would truly be alone for the first time gripped you tightly, refusing to let go.

“We swear by rote for want of more. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ But now we're through so we'll go on shore. And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You let out a quiet sob as you pushed off from your seat, practically running out of the pub. The door banged against the wall with a loud crack, the echo of laughter and conversation chasing after you into the dark street. Another tune started up, a jollier shanty than the one you had led everyone in, but the joy and merriment found in the pub did not reach you in that moment, despair digging its claws into you as you stalked down the street with no mind to where you were heading.

The world swam around you, blurred by your tears. Your chest and head hurt from how hard you sobbed, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt keep yourself together, to keep yourself whole.

You staggered, coming to a stop next to building, leaning your weight against the sturdy structure as you fought to gain back your composure. A hand landed on your shoulder, ripping you out of your breakdown. You looked up with wet, wide eyes to meet a sea of concerned green.

Jake didn’t hesitate to try and pull you close, moving to wrap his arms around you in a soothing gesture, but you shook your head, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him away. His brow furrowed in confusion, thumb reaching up absentmindedly to wipe away your tears. You jerked away from him, shaking your head more vigorously.

“No,” you croaked, another sob wracking through you.

“Guppy,” he started, taking a step closer to you, but you shoved at him this time.

“No,” you stated more firmly, shooting him an angry, wild look that had him balking. “I don’t want your pity, or your comfort, or anything else you’re trying to bestow upon me. Not when it’ll all be for nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” He sighed out, an edge to his tone. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand as you attempted to stand tall.

“I can’t keep relying on you,” you uttered. “Not when this time in only four days, I won’t have you anymore. I’ll be alone. I’ll have no one except maybe Nat, but even that’s not a guarantee. In a few days' time, you’ll face Davy Jones, and not knowing how that will end, terrifies me.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there and watched you with an indiscernible expression. Finally, he set his jaw and stepped close, pulling you into his arms. A large hand cradled your face, pulling your face up towards his.

“I’m not leaving you, sweet girl,” he said, thumb stroking across your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut as a new wave of tears threatened to spill over.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered in return.

“I do though,” he retorted. “I know everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Even if I’m doomed to live a cursed life, a life where I will never know peace or satisfaction again, it would be a far worse fate to not have you by my side.”

You couldn’t stop the sob that shook you, choosing instead to hide your face against his chest. Jake let out a low hum, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he rocked you gently until the sobs died down once more.

“Trust me, Guppy,” he murmured, moving his hand to dig something out of his coat. “This will buy us our freedom.”

You turned your head to see him holding up the Soul of Polaris, the gem seeming to glow in the moonlight. You swallowed thickly, watching as it rotated slowly in his hold.

“What does it show you?” You asked quietly, gripping his shirt a little harder in your hands.

“What?” Jake asked, sounding perplexed.

“When I first saw it,” you explained, “the man who had it said that it guided a person to what it was they needed most.”

You turned your head to gaze up at him. “So, what is it that it shows you?”

Jake looked at you for a moment, eyes wide in surprise before he shifted his focus towards the gem. His brow furrowed once more as he pressed his lips together, pondering what he should say.

“We should head back,” he said finally, pocketing the gem once more as he guided you back down the street.

Four days later, the newly repaired Hangman rocked in the ocean waves as it headed up the coast towards North Carolina. The air aboard the ship had grown thick with mounting tension and anxiety, the air so thick you swore you could cut it with one of Bob’s kitchen knives.

The fog that surrounded the waters didn’t help matters, setting a decidedly somber mood as the crew waited for their fates to be decided. Sunset was approaching, something you could tell despite the blanket of fog that hid the sun from view. Jake hadn’t stopped pacing the length of the deck for two hours, and just watching him had you on edge. He had already snapped at three crew members for, admittedly, small infractions, and you were starting to wonder if he’d keep his sanity long enough to see Davy Jones at this point.

“Captain,” Javy called from the helm, face tight with his own anxiety, though his tells were less obvious compared to everyone else’s. Jake’s head snapped up to look at him, back rigid as he paused mid-step.

“We’re here,” Javy announced, dipping his head at his best friend. Jake sucked in a breath, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he blew out, nodding his head as he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, nodding more determinedly. “Yeah, alright. Bradshaw, Guppy. You’re with me. Everyone else, stay put until I get back.”

You were shocked that he picked you and Bradley, certain he would have chosen Javy or Natasha. You didn’t say anything as you followed him and Bradley towards one of the lifeboats. Natasha already stood by the railing, waiting for the captain to approach.

“You’re leaving me behind?” She challenged as you all approached, Javy descending the stairs at the same time. Jake raised his chin at her, a grimace pulling on his lips.

“I trust you and Javy to look after the ship while I’m away,” he explained. “But, I still need people I can trust with me—people I can depend on if this goes south. Bradshaw will act as my muscle, and we’ve seen how things react around Guppy.”

Natasha mulled over his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Be careful out there,” she implored. “We’ve already had one crew member mangled by something magical.”

Jake shot her a grateful look before turning his attention to Javy who had saddled up behind her. The two shared a silent exchange before clasping their forearms and pulling each other in for a one-armed hug. The two pulled away at the same time, and Javy offered the captain a nod.

“Good luck,” he said. Jake nodded back at him before turning back towards the lifeboat. He let out a long, weary sigh before stepping forward with you and Bradley not far behind.

The fog clung to your skin, giving you the feeling of walking through water as the sand shifted beneath your feet. Jake and Bradley had hauled the boat up out of the water and further onto the beach before the three of you set out to find the spot where Davy Jones would be waiting.

The wind whipped around you, ruffling your clothes and sending a chill down your spine. You ignored it, knowing what lay ahead of you already had a frigid feeling coursing through your veins as the sky began to grow darker. Jake’s pace began to increase as the clock counted down, his hands clenching and unclenching as the three of you continued on.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Bradley asked, peering at the captain from the corner of his eye. Jake’s frown deepened as he shot the brunette a sharp look.

“Yes,” he snapped, stopping suddenly. “This is the place.”

You looked around, noting the cliffs that hung just above your head, the grass swaying in the wind as the waves crashed against the rocky shore. Bradley looked around as Jake stared down at his feet. You perched atop one of the rocks, bringing your knees up to your chin as your attention flickered between the two men.

“Did we miss him?” Bradley prodded, hands in his pockets as he walked around in a circle. “Shouldn’t he be here already?”

“I don’t know Bradshaw,” Jake snapped once more, an irritated glint in his eye. “We didn’t exactly exchange letters on what time to meet.”

A familiar hum prickled at the back of your neck, your back straightening as a knowing feeling overcame you. You twisted your neck to the right, looking down the beach towards the opposite way you came. In the growing shadows and through the fog, a tall figure began to emerge, their coat billowing behind them.

“Look!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet as you pointed a finger at the figure. Jake and Bradley turned to where you gestured, postures alert and on guard as they spotted the figure too. The humming grew in intensity as the figure drew closer, but there was no sense of danger that accompanied it like there had been with Thetis, the sirens, and the serpent. No, in place of danger, there was only the sense of familiarity, and confusion tickled at the back of your mind.

The fog and shadows obscured the figure as it stopped by some rocks a few yards away. You squinted, trying to make out any discernable features, but you couldn’t help but feel you knew the person who stood in front of you. A soft scratch sounded as the figure struck a match, the small flame illuminating his face as he lit the pipe that hung at his lips. Shock coursed through you as you recognized the blue eyes and weathered face that stared back at your group, the embers of tobacco letting out a puff of smoke as he exhaled.

You blinked, not quite believing what you were seeing, and you knew Bradley’s expression must have mirrored your own in that moment.

“Tom?”

A/N: Wooooooooow! I can't believe it's finally here, y'all! What do we think? How are we feeling? What on earth is going to happen next???

It feels so good to finally get this one off my chest, I've been sitting on it for sooooooo long! Like...the amount of times I almost slipped up and told y'all everything is embarrassing, quite frankly.

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[missxwrites]

fix you too - jake seresin ; ch 2

(loosely based on 'fix you too' - megan moroney ft. kameron marlowe)

Summary: Jake had a summer fling the year he graduated from Top Gun, but what he doesn't know is that she's still in Miramar with more than just a fleeting memory of the green eyed pilot. (multi-part series!!) Word count: 1,100+ Warnings: no use of y/n, some assumption about size, reader is gendered afab (but I promise I'm trying to get better at the neutral tone!), mentions of pregnancy/single parenting A/N: This is the first reader fic I've posted in almost 10 (!!!) years, please be gentle. (I'm rusty as F*CK) anyways, I'm head over heels for the top gun universe and my husband makes fun of me for it, so this is my creative release (: pls enjoy A/N part two: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST 😭 and I know it's not very long but I'm currently writing chapter 4 already!! I've just been so absorbed in my externship that I haven't had time to share. the next few chapters will be much longer once May is over! previous chapter. next chapter.

Three years earlier…

Jake cradled the side of her face as a distant look crossed his, green eyes wandering across her features as he took a moment of pause. How the hell was he supposed to tell her that he just got an assignment for 6 months, the same length of time they've been seeing each other, and he ships off tomorrow… “I'm leaving…” His voice was low and raspy, as if he had a hard time getting the words out. His thumb grazed her cheek bone.  Never had it been so hard for the lieutenant to break away from one of his flings.

She just blinked at him, her mouth falling open and closed in an attempt to make words, but nothing came. She could almost feel her heart shattering inside her chest as it began rabbiting against her ribcage. Her eyes frantically searched his face for anything else to go off of before she muttered a very reserved, “Okay.” Jake winced at how that one word felt heavier than the world, “Sweetheart, I'm so sorry.” The ocean lapping at their ankles became increasingly colder as he could feel her withdrawing. His voice wavered before he took a deep breath to continue, “It's a six month deployment, I just don't want to keep you waiting.” She bit her lips anxiously and said, "I-It’s okay, Jake. I get it.” Her hand reached up to pull his hand away from her face, her fingers lingering around his wrist for a second as she looked up at him. A chaste kiss was pressed to his cheek and she turned to walk out of the water, making her way to her SUV in the parking lot instead of gracing the bar again. Silent tears streamed down her face as she ignored Jake calling out to her from the beach, not noticing the tears also streaking his face as the one person he thought he could love forever just walked away from him…

Jake had only been ashore for a couple days now, his new assignment coming down the pipeline while he was still aboard the ship. Top Gun, special detachment, no further detail until the day of. This was just the kind of mission Jake lived for.

He smiled as he pulled into the familiar setting, parking his truck in the back forty of the lot because he didn't want to take up too much room for other patrons. The California coastal air hugged him as he pushed open the truck door. There was just something different about the sunsets on North Island that always made him feel welcomed. 

Though that warm feeling quickly faltered when he looked up, and was met with the sight of an eerily familiar silver SUV parked closer to the docks. Jake shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to erase the image from his mind because he was surely dreaming right now… There's no way she's still here all these years later, right?

Jake swallowed thickly as he closed the door to his black Silverado, replacing the frown on his face with his typical cocky smile as he saw Javy wave him down from the doors of the Hard Deck. His fellow pilot had two beers in hand and was beckoning him to the dartboard. 

Jake was determined not to dwell on those thoughts as the two men reminisced for a while. Even though Javy tried many times to beat the Texan pilot, even going so far to block his view… Bullseye. Every time. Jake conceded and offered to buy Coyote a beer to sooth his sore losing streak.

With a sly smile laced on his lips, Jake shook his head with a laugh and pushed through the doors of the Hard Deck so he could retrieve his wallet from his truck. Once he looked up, the air inside his lungs seized as he recognized the sight before him.

He would've known that laugh anywhere, the way the curve of her silhouette cast a shadow along the silver SUV as she busied herself in the backseat. There was no denying now that the suspicious vehicle belonged to someone he had only dreamed of seeing again. The sight made the smile vanish from his lips as he debated approaching her or just heading to his truck, the latter would've been the safest bet but he cursed internally as his feet carried him towards her.

He paused hesitantly in his pursuit when she closed the back door of her car and rounded the back side to close the hatch too. His reflection in the tinted glass caused the woman in front of him to freeze completely, the confidence in her posture quickly shrinking as she spun around and braced herself against the vehicle. 

Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out before she closed it quickly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she blinked back at him. Her inability to say something to him made the heartbeat in his ears unbearably loud as he took a hesitant step towards her. His eyes trailed up and down her for a moment before he said anything. 

“As I live and breathe… Is that really you?” Jake asked quietly, his southern drawl was thick as he willed his voice not to crack. His heart raced and all the hairs on his body stood at attention under her panicked stare. 

Her voice wavered slightly as the only word she managed to get out was his name, her expression was almost scared and it only served to make Jake's brows furrow further. She glanced nervously into the back of the SUV again, internally cursing herself and hoping that he hadn't seen her with the child, but it was in vain as his seafoam green eyes followed hers immediately.

He shifted his weight onto one foot when he returned his eyes to her face, the smallest genuine smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You look fantastic,” He drawled slightly, taking another step forward so that he was standing just a couple feet away from her. “The kiddo belong to a friend?” Jake asked softly, seeing more of the situation than she had hoped.

She laughed nervously as one of her arms snaked around her exposed mid-section, an anxiety induced habit from suddenly feeling too exposed in this swimsuit. Her other hand braced itself against the back of her vehicle, drawing absent-mindedly in the sandy bumper. “Uh, no… She's mine, actually.” Her eyes met his, her mind racing as she resisted the urge to say ‘and yours’ inside her brain. 

[beezelarts]

Thank you, ricciardosdaniel (they wrote "imagine being loved by me") for introducing me to Greta Van Fleet. It's my new favorite band I loveal of their songs which is rare.

I really recommend checking them out!

Also, I couldn't find ricciardosdaniel on tumblr so if anyone knows their username (if they're even on this platform) please tag them so that I can express my DEEPEST gratitude <3

[ddejavvu]

nothing is more painful than obsessing over a character and then they have almost no ff 💔

Indiana jones and Han Solo (almost no recent ff), ANY of the characters from top gun that aren’t rooster and hangman, etc etc etc the list goes on and I am sad

[the-ace-with-spades]

Charlie's Top Gun & Top Gun: Maverick Master List

Tags:

#Top Gun: Maverick, #Top Gun (1986), #Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw, #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, #Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, #Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace, #Javy 'Coyote' Machado, #Robert 'Bob' Floyd, #Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia, #Reuben 'Payback' Fitch, #Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw, #Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, #slooserole, #Ron 'Slider' Kerner, #Carole Bradshaw, #hangster, #icemav, #bobnix, #fanback, #MavDad, #Polish Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, #Italian Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, #Dagger Squad, #Trans Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw, #Ace Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Fics:

AO3:

ignition [hangster, firefighter!Bradley AU, 5+1, humour]

#ignition tag

(sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot [trans Bradley, transition-related, icemav as dads, hangster, getting back together]

#(sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot tag

slow down (you're doing fine) [Bradley-centric, icemav as dads, hangster, getting back together]

#slow down (you're doing fine) tag

just hold my hand [Mav's POV, the mission if hangster never broke up, mpreg and Mav/Ice as grandpas]

#just hold my hand tag

This hellsite only:

mini fics:

Family of Seven (Bradley and Jake accidentally adopt five kids) #Family of Seven tag

Angsty Baby Bradley series (Bradley POV, WIP snippets, Slider POV, IceMav POV, Adult Bradley POV) [hangster, icemav raised Bradley, Uncle Slider]

fic ideas/drabbles/prompts :

Mav is declared KIA and Ice finds out he's in his will as Bradley's guardian

Mav stays with Charlie until he becomes Bradley's guardian, Ice starts helping with raising him before they even get together

Carole and Mav get married after Goose dies and Ice and Slider pine

Ice is in denial about his feelings for Mav and Slider takes things into his own hands [fwb Slimav, pre-Icemav] Part 1 (Slider POV), Part 2 (Mav POV)

Polish!Ice and Italian!Mav headcanons

Ice and Mav wear matching clothes - Jake and Bradley mimic it years later

Post on Bradley calling Mav dad

Carole and Ice are Catholics and attend Polish Church together

4+1 'Ice checking on Bradley during the night' ficlet [icemav raising Bradley, hangster allusions]

Ice passes away in his sleep and what is left [Jake POV; ice and mav getting older, icemav as bradley's parents, icemav, hangster]

hangster starts here >>

Mav finds out Bradley who he hasn't talked to in over 10 years (and Jake) have a whole load of kids [mavdad angst, hangster, mpreg?? idea]

Jake realizing how much of Bradley's hot mannierism is inherited from Mav (and Ice)

Firefighters AU - legacy ff! Bradley, bat chief! Mav and baby ff! Jake training under new captain Bradshaw [hangster as cap/probie]

Jake and Bradley becoming flight instructors and becoming a good and bad cop in the eyes of their students [older and 'secretly' married hangster]

Bradley wants to organize a wedding (vow renewal) that Mav and Ice never had - he is terrible at it and needs help from someone who isn't - Jake [hangster, rom com vibes, getting back together]

Bradley learns to pick locks (and people's hearts) [hangster, icemav raised Bradley]

Humour fic AU idea where Bradley's papers haven't been pulled and he does land in USNA but he's doing everything and anything not to be labeled as the nepo baby [icemav as bradley's parents, hangster]

Bradley can't cut onions [hangster, mavdad]

High school AU with Bradley and Jake in secret relationship because Mav disapproves

High school AU hangster being nominated for 'most likely to get married' despite not being a couple (Part 1, Part 2)

Bradley gets Jake small thoughtful gifts (and continues to buy them after they break up)

Jake and Bradley still find their most attractive features to be the ones they had from the beginning [soft hangster headcanon about physical attraction]

Ace!Rooster is avoiding Hangman's advances

Hangster A/B/O with O! Bradley and A! Jake [mpreg & angst, set during TGM and after]

Jake didn't go to USNA AU and met struggling Bradley at college

Hospital AU with nurse!Bradley and doctor!Jake [hangster enemies to lovers, ER coworkers, surgeons icemav] #hangster hospital AU

Actor!Bradley AU where he's filming an ala TOPGUN movie with Jake as his assigned by the Navy aviator, Mav is Jake's CO [hangster, enemies to lovers, mavdad drama]

Jake's dad adores Bradley - or Bradley keeps collecting dads [icemav raised Bradley, hangster]

Hangman and Rooster as a pilot-WSO pair AU

Before Bradley takes the hit on the mission, he says goodbye ala Steve Rogers

10 Things I Hate About You hangster AU idea

Happiest Season AU, Jake takes Bradley for Christmas home

Jake being jealous of Nat (pre-canon)

#Pacific Rim AU - dossier files, idea

Actor tags:

#Glen Powell, #Miles Teller, #Monica Barbaro, #Lewis Pullman, #Tom Cruise, #Val Kilmer, #Jay Ellis, #Greg Tarzan Davis, #Danny Ramirez, #Top Gun: Maverick cast (containing more than one of the crew)

[green-socks]

RULES: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner got

Oooh I've never made a poll before! Thanks @a-reader-and-a-writer 😘 I think I'll try to write for every wip and not just the winner.

I apologize for the lazy naming of docs and exclusivity to the top gun fandom.

Tagging anyone who hasn't done this yet!! Because I've seen a lot of people already do this, but if you haven't, here's your tag!