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space-apples · 5 months ago

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i buried my teeth in everything good

hi chatters sorry for dying. thanking @dakedo0o @loveroped @angeart and @sunieraes for beta-ing i appreciate you <3

here it is on AO3 x

and if you want to read it here you can do that !!

He’s succeeded his task, and the wind was faintly blowing in his ear, almost sounding like laughter.

He’s succeeded his task, and the sun was just peeking over the mountains. He didn’t even realize he’d gone the whole night without a blink.

He’s succeeded his task, and the cold air was gnawing against his skin. He could hardly care anymore.

Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life.

He was drowning now, and felt the familiar sense of life being drained from him before arriving back at the Secret Keeper. He stared at it coldly (everything was cold.)

A skeleton was somewhere in the distance. It was shooting at him, but Scar couldn’t be bothered to care. The arrows buried themselves into his skin, but as he bled and whatever remaining life source once again drained out of him, Scar didn’t recognize the pain as much as he should have. All he really felt was numbness, a fucked up sense of relief. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, wishing, hoping, praying for release.

If he died now, he would be gone. He would be free.

Of course the Gods above cared too much about their entertainment to let him go. So when he opened his eyes, the arrows were gone. The only mark left that showed they were ever there were the scars. More to add to the collection, he supposed, bitterly staring up at the Secret Keeper statue.

Scar wanted to scream at it, to get TNT and blow the stupid thing to dust and rubble.

He pressed the button once more, wildly, angrily, and cursing so much that a sailor would cringe away.

Win Secret Life, it said. As always. He did win. As always.

Pressing the button over and over again wouldn’t do anything, but he did anyway, something in him snapping. Only getting more desperate and upset with each hit as it gave him more and more books. He didn’t care that his hand was getting splintered, that a nasty bruise was starting to form, that he felt it breaking. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything anymore, he couldn’t focus on caring. Scar just wanted to go home.

He didn’t even realize when he started rapidly hitting the stone instead, putting so much weight and force into his attacks that the button had broken. When he paused long enough to realize, he swore he couldn’t feel himself breathing anymore. The books were splattered around, his hand was bloodied, and his legs crumbled from underneath him.

Scar prided himself on being resilient, only crying once or twice after a Life Game. But seeing his own blood on a half beaten rock where the button should have been, feeling the cold air biting at his skin, the awareness that he was irrefutably alone, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do anything in order to go home, shattered any resolve he so wished to keep.

His hands didn’t seem like his as he laid them, shakily, gently, carefully, on pedestal once more. His whole body shook, wracked with impending doom. He was sobbing, he realized, though the tears never seemed real. None of this seemed real. He couldn’t breathe through it, and some sick part of him hoped that it would continue, that his body would finally collapse and allow him to be detached from this world.

But maybe he deserved this.

Maybe with how many people he killed, how many people he made suffer, this was his punishment. A permanent loop, a permanent limbo, forever cursed to be alone.

Maybe that was the reason for his time here; showing that his destiny, his purpose, his fate, was to be on his own. Where he grew up, it wasn’t exactly an option to talk with other people, and perhaps he got too comfortable in Hermitcraft. Last Life should have been his reminder, his push in the right direction, but he wanted the interaction. The comfort of being near someone was too tempting to turn down. Yet the bite of cold he felt constantly growing up in the apocalypse, it was the same he felt on that horrible mountain in Last Life. It was the same he felt now. He couldn’t escape it, no matter how many blankets or campfires he had, just like how he wouldn’t ever be able to be relieved of the crippling isolation that threatened to overflow and drown him.

He didn’t know when time started to blur even more, he didn’t know when he started to feel so numb that it felt like he couldn’t move his legs. He couldn’t care for it. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing just that. The sun was blaring, it might have stung to look at, yet he just kept staring upward, blankly. There wasn’t much else he could do, anyways. He broke the button. He probably broke his hand too, but he was floating too much to really register it.

He didn’t notice when his legs became anchored to the ground. The hope that the possibility of his opponents (they were friends, they were friends, they were friends) cared enough to come back, to check in on him, was of course foolish. They wouldn’t. It should have bothered him more, and maybe some part of him was uneasy. But a bigger part of him was tired.

Now, his legs didn’t just feel heavy, they felt like stone.

And that’s when he noticed he couldn’t sit up. That everything was so much colder. That he was so much more aware of the world. He could make out every grass blade being eaten by grazing animals, the fish wading through the waters, and he didn't even flinch at the desperate snarling of the Undead– the zombies. They were hungry, ravenous, and all he could really do was shift his energy away from it.

He still felt like he was being stared at, yet he couldn’t detect the stare of the Secret Keeper anymore. It bothered him in the back of his mind. In the dark corners, it felt more than simply wrong. His eyes felt sluggish, but somehow he knew he wouldn’t be able to close them. Now he had to watch, to feel more than the ground below him, the suffocating air around him. It was dark. It was bright. It was hot, but so so so cold.

All he could do was stare into the sky, watching the sun reach into his peripherals and watch it fade away into a cold night, stars tracing each speck of his vision. It should have been the only thing he saw. He didn’t know how he saw everything. But the statue wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t watching along beside him.

He tried to regard it as a good thing. That he didn’t have to feel that prying stare bear into him. But all he could think was that he was now those intrusive, intense, invading eyes. It wasn’t that it was gone, it was that he took its place. He didn’t know if shattering that stupid button was the cause, but he didn’t even mean to break it. He had just wanted to go home.

He can’t even think of how he’d do that now. He barely remembers the faces of his opponents. No, no, they were his friends. Yes, his friends. He couldn’t remember the faces of his friends. They were all muddled and blurry, just like the memories of their time together, hardly resurfacing when he tried to remember. He remembers a boat pole? Bluebells— no, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t frame it correctly, but akin to. A flower of sorts, poisonous to something. He remembers vague things about vexes, though they were just a– a mob with no real significance. He can’t quite... God, why can’t he remember. They were his friends, he said it himself, they were kind and funny and. He wished he could remember more about them other than their bloodshed, than their violence. There were pieces he was missing.

(He misses them. He needs them. He doesn’t know why he’s here, why he’s had to isolate and disconnect from everyone he knew for the sake of Watching. But it isn’t his job to question it, if he could even do such a thing. At least not anymore.)

Time passed on, he knows it’s passed on. There’s little, in this world at least, he doesn’t know at this point. But as far as the people who are gone, the people he killed, he doesn’t know where they are now. How long it’s been for them. He knows there’s not much he can do about it. There’s not much they can do to save him. He thought, he hoped, the numbness was back.

He didn’t know how much he even felt anymore, he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling. So why, why, is there so much dread in the pits of his stomach. Why is there nausea building in his body, his head throbbing with a migraine. Why did his fear come back all at once, his disquiet of being so utterly alone solitary abandoned abandoned abandoned being seemingly worse than before. It’s not like it ever left, but if it did, it came back stronger than it ever was prior. He didn’t mind being numb, really. He half-heartedly wished for it back. He vaguely realized in his mind he won’t be going home anymore. And this wasn’t at all what he wanted. To be trapped in a never ending loop of pain and pressing buttons was hardly on anyone’s bucket list. He didn't even know what he wanted now, other than to simply rest.

Though now he figured this was why he was here. Why wouldn’t they want someone already contiguous to not one soul— someone so bloodthirsty— in their grasp. Playing their sick games until he could only regurgitate futile means of escaping. Watching for them. Commanding for them. Succeeding for them. Maybe he should have felt horrified at the prospect, and maybe he did, but if it wasn’t at the forefront, he could hardly be expected to feel anything other than that flooding sense of numbness. Maybe he didn’t want to be here. Maybe he did. It didn’t matter now. He had a job to do.

He succeeded his task, and it was then he noticed the button on the stone pedestal was back. It was nicer than the old one. Engraved in markings he recognized. It was the traditional Elven designs that coiled around harsh stone, though he could already feel the connection to his identity fading away.

He succeeded his task, and yet when he tried to reach out for it, he couldn’t move his hand anymore.

He succeeded his task, and now he’d be making sure when others came along, they’d succeed too.

He could vaguely remember that he was Scar, but even that was fading from his mind. Now he was the keeper, the beholder, the Successor of the thing that was here before.

They had no idea how long they were trapped in there. They tried to glance around, and though they could technically see, they couldn’t See, not how they were used to. They didn’t wish for it back. Or perhaps they did. But the harsh transition made it difficult to look around at all.

They knew they were not envious of their replacement— though it was still hard to grasp that they could feel, really feel again. The sensations latched onto them like they'd always been there; like it was coming home— but they couldn’t remember anything to match it, or anything at all. It had been too overwhelming to have so many of them, to notice and detect sensations other than stone and that icy cold that swallowed them whole.

It had been far too long to even remember their name. They were trying awfully hard as well, to remember the identity they had left behind. Before all the buttons, before all the colored names and hopeless faces showed, before all the cravings of violence just to get a sick taste of what being angry meant. They had a life, surely.

They looked down at their new body. This one couldn’t have been their old one– Staring into the reflection they remembered the face of their Successor, eyes still red and running rampant on Red Life urges. They weren’t in that world, and yet. They wondered if the bloodshed would ever stop.

It was rather warm here, they noticed, but for some reason they could still sense that bite of cold they felt as the Keeper.

They didn’t quite know where they were, but they could hear someone approaching. They almost expected a button to be pressed, for them to make a request. Of course that didn’t happen here, and instead a voice called out.

Excited, concerned, afraid, afraid, afraid—

“Scar, oh my god.” The person, upon seeing them, ran over much faster than they had expected. And to their own surprise, they recognized their– her– voice. She was hard to forget, really, because admittedly, she was one of their favorites. The Newbie, the first to truly find the End in their domain. (Their old domain. It wasn’t theirs anymore.) One with such promise, such potential. Of course now they’re rather glad she didn’t win. “Scar, where have you been?”

They forgot they were in place of the Successor, they forgot that was even his name. They tried to open their mouth to respond, but it turns out after spending what felt like centuries with their mouth made of literal stone, it was a bit harder to get words out. They were sure it’d be raspy anyway, from the misuse.

They remembered her name now, and vague recollections of Scar’s memories came back from when they Saw him. Her name was Gem.

Gem frowned at his silence, and Scar– not Scar, they’re not Scar– tensed, worried that they’d already be found out within five seconds.

“I won’t– I won’t push you into talking, Scar,” she said, to their surprise. She surveyed them with such concern that it made them discern… something. Guilt? Embarrassment? She continued, spurred on by them remaining silent. “It’s just– you’ve been gone for almost, uh, two months now. I think.”

They didn’t have to pretend to shudder at the time frame.

It had been way longer than just two months.

Honestly, they really did try getting their mouth open to speak, to demand, but all they could manage were raspy grunts. Gem winced, yet kept her relatively calm demeanor.

“It’s okay, I don’t want to force you.” She reaches over slowly, maybe so that if they wanted to back away, they would. They didn’t. It could have been because moving was so unknown, unfamiliar. Or because they regarded Gem as more than just trustworthy; as safe.

The touch burned before it felt like a regular mortal being was actually holding them. She gently encouraged them to move forward, for them to follow her, a smile now plastered on her face.

“Come on, Scar, let’s get you home, yea?”

Home.

In their last moments before the Successor took over, they remembered his last thoughts were wistfully praying that he’d be let go. Back to wherever here was, where they could pretend his past was long gone and have fun and play— not dangerous— games. Where they could have just a little company.

The memory made them feel like something was twisting in their gut, their throat closing up with such a tightness it felt like they were forgetting how to breathe. They didn’t remember what that feeling was. But they needed to get rid of it, and Gem’s words were so warm, such a drastic change from the icy wind clawing at each part of them, threatening to freeze them over.

Gem’s offer didn’t seem to hold the same malice, but when they tried to see into it, see her intentions, they were swiftly reminded their abilities were no longer with them. The similar sensation in their gut came back, and it screamed and yelled at them to run, to get far away. Logically, though, if they were to run, Gem would most likely catch them a lot easier than they’d like to admit. They were not used to having legs that— more or less— work. And if she wanted to kill them she would have already done so.

So they nod, following her carefully after she takes her hand off their shoulder. She let go, and it still felt like it was there, still felt like it was burning, still felt like it was there to keep it burning. Gem’s touch wasn’t bad, at least they didn’t think so. They hadn’t had any contact with anyone or anything for so long, and perhaps that was why it felt so sudden. So much. They tried to trail behind her as best they could, only becoming more overwhelmed with each step.

They’re not familiar with so much of this, so many textures, so many potential people around, so many so many so many—

It wasn’t her fault, really.

She just kept leading on, adding little comments here and there. It was hard to keep paying attention to her when she wasn’t the only one making noise. Grass crunched from underneath them, water was crashing a little while away, Gem’s armor was rattling against itself with every step, there were probably people in the distance, not bothering to keep their voices down.

Their vision got blurry after a while, their legs felt like mush. They didn’t think it had been that long, though that didn’t make them feel better. They could barely make out Gem’s face, her antlers being the only thing that they could really see.

Everything was spinning around them, going too fast. Or it could have been that they were going too slow. It hurt to keep their eyes open, but the worry that if they closed them now, the worry it’ll be like before made them try so very hard to not blink.

And despite their best efforts, they felt the impact of hitting the ground before anything else.

And despite themself, they knew their eyes were rolling back into their head.

At least it wasn’t everything all at once, but now it was— once again— nothing.

They woke up, not expecting to be able to feel the softness of whatever they were laying on. They were laying down as well, a position they hadn’t been able to be in before. Though they half expected to be frozen like that, it was certainly a lot more comfortable now than it used to be. They didn’t try to move, at least not for a while, unsure they even could.

They were talking about them. Not them. Well, maybe it was them technically, but it was still about Scar. The Scar they knew.

“—Just overwhelmed, maybe,” a voice— they could recognize once more as Gem— said, most likely contributing to a conversation that had already started. “I don’t know. He’s been gone for months.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware, Gem.”

Grian. That voice belonged to Grian. They didn’t have the same excitement towards the man as maybe some of the Others did. They didn’t want to like Grian, and as much as They tried to make them favor him, they had leaned towards Gem.

They thought she’d be smart enough to figure it out. Clearly, they had thought wrong.

They still weren’t moving, afraid to even try, and instead waded through the waters of their mind, through every crevice of newfound sensations, newfound thoughts. It still felt they weren’t their own, as if they were still rifling through someone else’s head.

They couldn’t tell if they still felt like it was burning, and they were once again worried they were back there again because even with however many sensations their body may have been experiencing, it still felt so far away.

They realized they were shaking.

Which was good, they thought. Good that they could move, at least. They couldn’t think much of anything else when trying to refocus on Gem and Grian, whose voices had become slightly raised.

“That’s not what I meant,” she huffed, inhaling sharply. “I am glad he’s back, I was just— concerned.”

“We all had this after the first Death Game, Gem. Scar shouldn’t feel more violent than, you know, he usually is.”

“But his eyes— even if they weren’t red— they were so empty.”

“Winning a game can be a lot. And Scar was by himself that whole time, even before his, uh, extended hiatus. I think we both know that Scar being alone isn't his favorite thing in the world.”

“You— Okay, I can see that. I mean I think the Death Games can be a lot for anyone, just on its own. But sure.” She let out a long sigh, as if she hadn’t taken a breath throughout that entire conversation. “I care about him too, Grian. It’s not just you.”

They were both silent for a moment, and for a small second, they thought they had walked away. That was until Grian spoke.

“I know.” His voice was so soft, almost a whisper. “I know. I just— Let’s just make sure to make something fun for when he wakes up. Or at least a cup of water.”

Gem lets out a hum of agreement, and they can’t help but feel that pain in their chest. One that seems bad at first, yet seems to feel more comforting. Even as they hear the door being opened and closed, it remains.

It’s a feeling that, although they barely remembered anything, they know they craved and strived to have it. The feeling of being cared for, of knowing that you’re cared for.

It was ridiculous, especially as they weren’t even Scar. It was only a matter of time before they found out, before they kicked them right back out for very justifiable reasons. And yet it was hard to deny the temptation of staying, just to feel wanted for even a little while. To have a connection with a real person, a real being. They know it won’t last, as things usually do, but they didn’t see why they couldn't savor this.

It’s not theirs to savor, they know this. But there’s no one else to provide that connection to them anymore. Even if there was, they don’t remember. It’s frustrating how much they don’t remember, how much they remember about Scar more than they remember about themself.

They knew they should say something, but the thought of being cast aside was enough to replace the feeling in their chest with a much heavier weight.

They knew they weren’t Scar, but for now, they could pretend.

They knew they would be forced to leave eventually, but for now, just for now, they could stay.

#goodtimeswithscar #gtws #hermitcraft #spaceapples writes #successor au #trafficblr #hermitblr #gtws angst #cw dissociation #geminitay #grian mc #desert duo #elven duo #secret life smp

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kassandrasdisciple · 16 days ago

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BatFam X VtM

Time to combine another of my 2 hyperfixations of the month. I'm gonna match each Batfam member with what vsmpire the masquerade clan i think they would be and my reasonings. Some have multiple clans they could be so I've tried to narrow it down to 1 and reason why I didn't go with another. If this was an actual AU it would probably make more sense for them all to mainly be the same clan as Bruce but this menagerie of a coterie is more interesting and fits each character, so without further ado.

Bruce Wayne

Ventrue

The blue bloods, known for their honour and pride, they rule from up above, embracing CEOs and modern aristocrats alike. For the prince of Gotham, chairman of Wayne Enterprises, I don't think there's a more perfect fit. Bruce at his best and worse embodies the values the clan of kings holds. He's a ruler through lineage, ruling his subject from up high, but the clan compulsion of arrogance and belief of knowing best make him come across as stubborn and apathetic to others concerns if he's ruled on a matter already.

The only other clans I could maybe see for bruce would be Lasombra or Toreador, with the former being know for their obtenebration and the latter for their ability to play the games of socialites. However those aspects are more masks Bruce wears when playing either brucie wayne or batman, not truly who he is.

Dick grayson

Ravnos

This isn't because he's Romani in some iterations but it's a nice extra. No, Dick is a Ravnos because he's a perfect fit. The Ravnos are the daredevils of the vampire world, their blood literally compels them to tempt fate, they also can't sleep in the same place for more than a couple of nights; what clan would fit our ex-travelling circus acrobat than them?

Truly I think Ravnos is the best fit for Dick, however some versions of him are more well known for being a seducer, and have become part of his Fannon; because of that the argument could be made for Toreador.

Jason Todd

Banu Haqim

The Assamites, judged by western kindred as frothing diablerists when really they're guardians, warriors and judges of the corrupt. Really, it was when I got to Jason that I knew I had to write all these matches down. This is the perfect fit to the point that I'm sure others must've headcannoned it. Their compulsion is judgement, forcing them to punish anyone who breaks their moral code, they also chafe against their fellow vampires; falling to a bloodlist if they taste the vitae of another kindred.

If you were writing Jason with the Fannon pit madness I could see the argument for Malkavian, and if your specifically talking about when Jason was Robin I'd say he fits more closely to Brujah; being a spitfire. But as the Red Hood? Jason is a child of Haqim.

Tim drake

Tremere

Just as choosing Jason's sealed my need to write this post, trying to choose Tim's nearly made me give up. Tim is my least read character and as such it's harder to split Fannon from Cannon, so please bare with me. The Tremere are the second youngest clan, they're also know as the Usurpers. They weren't chosen by vampirism but rather they chose it. The Tremere are hated by several clans for this transgression, including the Banu Haqim, who see their blood magic as a knock-off of their own. The Tremere are perfectionists, constantly seeking new rituals and knowledge; isolating themselves in chantries until they've got their newest project just right. Is this not Tim Drake?

I do love the flavor text this creates, being the second youngest and having beef with Jason from the get go. But on a deeper level, choosing to be Robin, being a perfectionist and also being insecure in their status as a hero/vampire? I think this is a perfect match.

Other clans I could see for Tim would be Nosferatu, being secret keepers and traders alike, or another Ventrue like Bruce, since they both come from money. However I have a better fit for the Nossies and I want to avoid repeating clans if i can.

Damien Wayne-Al Ghul

Lasombra

Like the Ventrue the Lasombra are born rulers, however, unlike the bluebloods, for the Lasombra might makes right. You're embraced into the clan when you're put through a gauntlet that systematically destroys your life; if you get back up your embraced, if not? You're left to die. The night clan coat themselves in shadows, manipulating and striking from them. They have a penchant for religion, ruling over the masses, however their bane of callousness means that they have a hard time relating to humans, sometimes even other kindred, letting more and more of their humanity slip.

If this doesn't describe the heir of the demon, who grows up in a religious, assassin cult, where he has to kill or be killed then I dont know what clan will. He's literally from the league of shadows. I also think it would irk a Ventrue Bruce for his child to be more adept with shadows than himself.

I could see Damian as a Ventrue like his father, as his behavior can be read as arrogance rather than callousness, it would also be in line with his "true heir" hang up. Also, Nanda Parbat seems to just be a copy-paste of Alamut so, along with the Banu Haqim being assassins, I could also see the argument for them claiming Damien aswell, that would also feed my favorite trope of Damien and Jason having the best brotherly bond.

Barbara Gordon

Nosferatu

Second disclaimer of the post, this choice isn't due to her disability. The Nossies are the information brokers of kindred society. Living in abandoned places, yet lying in plan sight (like a massive clocktower) the clan of the hidden employ animalism to make spy's out of rat's and city birds, if there was ever a clan who embraced the modern world it's the nosferatu. Because of this The vagrants are the most tech savvy of the clans, creating Shrek net, the dark web for vampires.

Because of this I think our information queen would be at home with the Nossies. I think Barbara is the most single-clan character but maybe also Banu Haqim? They do embrace from law enforcement after all.

Stephanie Brown

Brujah

The rebels without a cause, they always want a cause to get behind, jumping from one to the other once one no longer fits. I think for Steph, who got into the vigilante game to spite her father (very much giving Troile the younger vibes), the clan of rebels would be the perfect home. She's also bounced between the most code names: spoiler, Robin, batgirl. She's always seeking the next goal. Furthermore she's not from money, she's a punk kid from Gotham who decided to fight back. Because of this Brujah is an easy choice.

If you wanted to go with the more feral™ energy she has in Fannon I could also see the argument for Gangrel, her being the wild child, but I think she's more the wild of rebellion rather than of the woods.

Cassandra Cain

Salubri

Hear me out. Not one of the 13 however I really do think it fits, the Salubri are constantly hunted, they're one of a kind and, in a society of killers, they suffer from affective empathy, making them want to resolve the hurts of others. Just kidding, I just described cass' upbringing, actually I described both. The unicorns also have access to the widest range of disciplines naturally, suiting our skilled assassin. Also the Salubri let their childe diablerize them, giving them the best headstart in life in the most bloody way possible, similar to how Lady Shiva has a very odd way of trying to make Cass stronger.

This is the one of the most out there ones. like alot of the BatFam, Cass could also be Banu Haqim but I do think her inherent character trait of renouncing her violent nature makes her a kindred (pun intended) spirit to the Salubri.

Duke Thomas

Kiasyd

Okay so this is fully a bloodline, but stay with me. The Kiasyd are a bloodline of the Lasombra with some Faery blood mixed in, this parallels Duke's metapowers causing him to stand apart from the rest of the family, just as faery blood causes the Kiasyds to stand apart from vampire society as a whole. They're also known for their magic using Mytherceria and Obtenebration, which together I think replicate Duke's meta abilities. Lastly the Kiasyd are oddballs, they act peculiar even for vampires, much like a crime-fighting vigilante being the only one to fight villains during the day.

This could be seen as a reach, but I think my justifications are valid. Really any clan that has magic could be a fair match, a fun alternative could also be Gargoyles, as they're the only clan that can naturally stay outside during the day.

And that finishes all the BatFam members I know well enough to assign clans to. If you have any ideas for Jaro, Bluebird, Kate Cane, or even the ones I covered but disagree with let me know! I'd like to have a member to cover each clan so we're missing Gangrel, Hecata/Giovanni, Malkavian, Set/Ministry, Toreador and Tzimisce. If you made it this far thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed.

#batman #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #vampire the masquerade #vampire the masquerade 13 clans #batfamily #batman x vtm #vtm

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thewisaaaaad · 2 months ago

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Hey so I was possesed by another vision.

Im so sorry. Have anemoia AU. Anemoia means "having nostalgia for a time you never experienced.

Also this one dives a little into horror, and I made an image to go with it so. be prepared for that.

my yappin below the Read More.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why had you tried to be rid of me? Had I done something wrong?

Oh. oh I must have. something horrible, and now I have done something so much worse! A fool such as myself has no business being ROYALTY! Oh no, this will not do at all! My lord, reduced to a groveling peasant!

But now you are free! Forgive your humble servant for the shoddy illusion of the cult I had left you in, I needed time to prepare your surprise! I meant no harm by it, and it was no prison. You could leave at any time!

And now you have! But oh, oh my Lord, you still look so upset! My deepest apologies and condolences, my lord!

But that foul mood will not last, if I have anything to say about it!

I know! I'll put on a show! Only the finest entertainment will do! The worst of the worst, tormented for eternity!

All for You! What a wonderful circus this will be! Such a wonderful show, indeed!

The price of admission? Oh no such thing, my lord! I would rather impale myself upon a sword or twelve! I offer a gift instead!

Your crown! Your wondrous, red crown, returned to its rightful place!

This body? oh, merely a puppet, my lord! My main body is setting up the big show. If you wish to rip it to shreds, such is your right!

But there is so much more to do, once you are done!

There are plenty of heretical souls to punish here with it, so many traitorous souls to cut down at your pleasure!

Ooh, ooh! There are refreshments, too! Fresh marrow to sup upon, and warm blood to slake your thirst!

And for the main events! Oh! Oh, how the bishops shall suffer for your amusement! Heheheh, I'm rather proud of those, myself!

First, we have Leshy! He of Havock, reduced to bird seed! I made hawks pluck at his eyehole as he remains chained to a rock! But not in the way normal birds of prey do, oh no. They pluck at the same nerve endings.

every. time.

A being who relishes in chaos such as he will surely die of BORDOM from such a fate! oh, but do not worry, my lord!

I WONT LET HIM LEAVE THAT EASILY.

Next up, we have that rotten toad, Heket! She gets the honor of standing in a river, with fruit dangling just overhead! But she never gets to taste either, oh no. The pears retreat, just beyond the reach of her grubby mits, whenever she dares to try and seize them.

And that frigid water that rushes past her legs? Why, her parched lips will never reach its surface! the spiked collar around her fragile neck will make sure of that.

SHE WILL FACE THE VERY FAMINE SHE ONCE RULED.

As for Kallamar. Well, lets just say that I was tempted to make him shove a boulder up a hill for eternity, but his weak noodle arms could barely push a small rock! It was so pitiful, I couldn't even stand it.

So I decided to play to his strengths.

A god of plague should be more than a match for his domain, right? Hehee! I thought so too, but his vomit seems to suggest otherwise! I have lined up a wonderful conga line of suffering for the cowardly squid, a beautiful set of symptoms that shall create a wonderful symphony of agony!

Ah, but I haven't left him defenseless! that would be no fun at all! I have left him a table of tools, a bouquet of medicine to try ant treat what ails him!

But every, SINGLE time he starts to recover to a mere cough...

I HAVE ANOTHER CRIPPLING ILLNESS WAITING IN THE WINGS!

And Shamura!

...ah, Shamura.

It was so hard to find a punishment that got a good reaction out of them. Every single form of torture, from boiling in oil, to being crushed under a lead cloak, they took all of it on the chin.

"Through this, I will repent" MY ASS!

But I figured out a hell that makes them squirm. Its so ingenious!

I simply employed the same punishment that they made YOU suffer through! Ehehee, with a slight twist, of course!

They get to watch their siblings SUFFER for all eternity! Hah, and they get to sit there, knowing, KNOWING that this is all their fault! AHAHAHAHAAAAA!

Oh don't look at me like that, you aren't part of their family! They forsake that honor the moment they thought to put you in chains!

...oh, and before you go enjoy the festivities, I wanted to tell you one last thing.

I will be hosting a show of my own! "The Comedy Of the Last Lamb!" oh, I have been working SO very hard on it! I do hope you enjoy it! The story will be a little... tweaked, from how it actually went. The new ending should fit your tastes MUCH better than how... It had gone.

I do hope you'll show up to see it!

You have a starring role in it, after all.

Please, enjoy yourself.

My lord.

#anemoia au #i really don't know what i'm doing #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl shamura #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #cotl heket

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rynnthefangirl · 1 year ago

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Okay, so I finally got around to watching Fall of the House of Usher, and I have so many thoughts. I especially loved all the cool ways that the deaths of the siblings play into their individual characters, and I may or may not eventually do an analysis for each of them. But for right now I want to talk about one of my favorite stories and deaths in the show, Leo's.

So with Leo, everything with the cats is symbolic of his own sins plaguing him. Specifically, like many of the Ushers, Leo expects to get what he wants without bearing any responsibility for his actions, and this is exemplified by his relationship with Jules. He clearly wants to be in a relationship with Jules, and I think he does get more out of it that just sexual pleasure. However, he only cares what HE can get from the relationship, and doesn't consider his partner's desires and feelings. Leo regularly cheats on Jules, a betrayal he knows would hurt Jules but he simply does not care as long as he gets away with it. He values drugs more than he does his partner, and ignores or shuts down any discomfort or concern Jules has with his drug abuse. He won't even properly acknowledge Jules as his partner by bringing him around to meet the family, an action that would give more seriousness to their relationship and perhaps raise the expectations for how Leo should behave.

Leo's hallucination of killing Pluto is a subconscious manifestation of his failures as a boyfriend. It parallels his infidelity: he does something horrible that would break Jules' heart (fittingly as a result of drugs), and instead of feeling remorse for what he has done, he is more preoccupied with how to avoid getting caught. Except now it's no longer a girl that he can hide out on a balcony, but an irreplaceable beloved pet. Despite this severity of the situation, Leo persists in trying to hide his sins, to prioritize his own comfort and desires over honesty and trust.

So Leo goes to the pet store to find a replacement cat, and Verna is waiting for him. And this is where his test comes in, the chance to change his fate that Verna gives all the siblings. Option 1 is to leave with another cat who needs a home, and resign himself to the consequences of his crime. Had he done that, he certainly would have found that Pluto was actually unharmed, which may perhaps (although I could be excessively optimistic here) have even served as a wake up call that the drugs are becoming a problem. He would've died regardless, but he could've died peacefully and somewhat redeemed, instead of traumatizing himself and his boyfriend. Option 2 is to take the easy way out, the way that avoids all responsibility, and use his wealth and power to get the perfect replacement kitty Verna tempts him with. Leo of course, chooses the second option.

In fitting irony, Leo's attempts to avoid consequence straps him with the biggest consequence of all. The cat is seemingly out to get him, hissing and scratching as if she's directly punishing him for his choices. Interestingly, the cat herself also seems to mirror Leo. Leo satisfies himself with drugs and women, bringing them into the home he shares with Jules with no concern for Jules' feelings; the cat satisfies herself by killing small animals, bringing their corpses to the apartment with no concern for Leo's discomfort. Considering the animals as a symbol of Leo's infidelity, it's fitting that the first one is found in their bed as Jules is performing oral sex on Leo and that the discovery of it results in them being interrupted and Jules being hurt. The cat also explicitly stares down Leo in this scene, as if in judgement for him enjoying his boyfriend while he himself is unfaithful and gives nothing in return. Verna later herself explicitly draws a connection between cats and Roderick Usher, saying that they both destroy to fulfill a deficiency in themselves. The same could be said for any of the Usher children however, Leo included.

Of course, being tormented by a manifestation of his sins (combined with the drugs) begins to drive Leo insane. We see further parallels between the cat and Leo, as both suffer eye injuries at the hands of the other. Leo eventually tries to kill the cat with a hammer, which is naturally as fruitless an endeavor as taking a hammer to the abstract idea of personal failure. All he manages to destroy in his rampage is the home he shares with Jules— yes, the cat is a literal homewrecker.

I don't think Verna's choice in which cat to bring home was actually Leo's point of no return, but simply the last moment that she herself will try to intervene and convince him down another path. Even without Verna talking him down, Leo has two moments of near clarity during his rampage, both of which center around Jules. One is early on in his delusions, when he realizes that what he's seeing is crazy and muses that maybe Jules was right about the drugs. The second is when Jules comes home, and Leo realizes first that Jules cannot see the woman and cat in the wall and then that there is no woman and cat in the wall at all. In both these moments, Jules could serve as a lifeline to Leo, but to take hold of that lifeline Leo would need to put aside himself and his obsession, to ignore the cat taunting him and instead put his focus on his boyfriend. Admit that Jules was right about the drugs, admit that Jules can see more clearly than him. But Leo cannot do this. He sees the cat on the balcony, and all thoughts of Jules are wiped from his mind. He HAS to get the cat, he HAS destroy the symbol of his sins so he can continue to live free of consequence. And that final decision, that refusal to listen to Jules and put aside his immediate selfish impulses, dooms him. He flings himself right off the building, not only killing himself but emotionally destroying his boyfriend, as he was always going to do.

#napoleon usher #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou spoilers #mike flanagan #the black cat

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warrioreowynofrohan · 7 months ago

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The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Chapter 38, “The Injured Man”

This chapter - the one where Lord Lowborough learns about Annabella and Huntingdon’s affair - is extremely interesting to me in relation to some of the things I learned in an undergrad history on Britain. (CW: Discussion of sucide.)

Starting in the 1700s, and continuing into the period when The Tenant of Wildfell Hall was written, there was a strong push among the growing middle classes for moral reform, and one of the things it targeted were vices that were specifically seen as common ones of the upper class: gambling, drunkenness, duelling, and suicide. The last one seems strange to the modern eye, but one element of its context was the image of the aristocrat who got badly into debt through the first three vices and killed themselves to escape disgrace (‘disgrace’ meaning ��behaviour considered unfitting to the upper class’, like having to do work to earn money), to which the middle class were in effect responding “what, so you think an honest day’s work is literally a fate worth than death?”) The rest of the objection to it was the same as the objection to duelling: that both treated the balue of human life lightly. This was a sharp turn away from the older upper-class culture: the idea of suicide in dire straits as a virtue went back to Ancient Rome (and earlier, but I think Ancient Rome was the big reference point), and duelling had long been considered a necessary hallmark of the honourable man.

Lord Lowborough’s part in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (which is deeply within the 1800s-British tradition of moral-didactic literature) is that of a man who has been tempted by all of these vices (as well as by drug abuse), succumbed to some, but ultimately refused all of them, and this chapter is the culmination of that. Earlier in the book Huntington laughingly tells of his friend’s earlier struggles and temptations, and how Huntington and the rest of their club urged him on in them and tempted him back whenever he attempted to quit: how Lowborough was first financially ruined by his gambling addiction, and then (in a striking example of addiction displacement) turned first to alcohol and then, as a displacement of alcohol, to laudanum to numb his unhappiness. He had ultimately managed to quit both, and married Annabella in hopes that marriage and domestic happiness could keep him on the straight and narrow. And he does actually stick with quitting them.

This chapter is the conclusion of that, and stands out for how different it is from the treatment of duelling in other (relatively) contemporary novels. In Sense and Sensibility, there’s a mention of Colonel Brandon fighting a duel with Willoughby over Willoughby’s seduction and abandoment of his ward; Elinor Dashwood does not exactly approve, but neither does she strongly object, and it narratively adds a certain romantic and dramatic gloss to Colonel Brandon. It is not treated as a vice, but as a difference between female/male and civilian/soldier values (and moderated by the fact that it waa apparently a matter of form, and Brandon was not trying to kill him, as indicated by the lack of injury):

“we met by appointment, he to defend, I to punish his conduct. We returned unwounded, and the meeting, therefore, never got abroad.”

Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a soldier, she presumed not to censure it.

In Jane Eyre, Rochester also mentions, in the past, having a duel with the man who had been sleeping with his mistress Céline Varens. As with Colonel Brandon, this isn’t regarded as praiseworthy, but it does give him a more dramatic figure.

“Next morning I had the pleasure of encountering him; left a bullet in one of his poor etiolated arms, feeble as the wing of a chicken in the pip, and thought I had done with the whole crew.”

In contrast, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall has Helen effusively praise Lowborough for refusing to fight a duel, in the teeth of his friends’ condemnation of that decision as weak and cowardly. It’s not mildly tut-tutting at duelling: it’s flipping the aristocratic script by presenting refusal to duel under circumstances that would normally prompt one as actively morally courageous.

[The first speaker is Hattersley, one of Lowborough and Huntingdon’s friends.]

“If you’ve the heart of a man, it would be the very ticket for you. It’s just this, my lad,” he continued, rather lowering his voice, but not enough to prevent me from hearing every word he said, though the half-closed door stood between us: “I think you’re an ill-used man—nay, now, don’t flare up—I don’t want to offend you: it’s only my rough way of talking. I must speak right out, you know, or else not at all; and I’m come—stop now! let me explain—I’m come to offer you my services, for though Huntingdon is my friend, he’s a devilish scamp, as we all know, and I’ll be your friend for the nonce. [This is Hattersley offering to be his second in a duel.] I know what it is you want, to make matters straight: it’s just to exchange a shot with him, and then you’ll feel yourself all right again; and if an accident happens—why, that’ll be all right too, I daresay, to a desperate fellow like you. Come now, give me your hand, and don’t look so black upon it. Name time and place, and I’ll manage the rest.”

“That,” answered the more low, deliberate voice of Lord Lowborough, “is just the remedy my own heart—or the devil within it, suggested—to meet him, and not to sever without blood. Whether I or he should fall, or both, it would be an inexpressible relief to me, if—”

“Just so! Well then—”

“No!” exclaimed his lordship, with deep, determined emphasis. “Though I hate him from my heart, and should rejoice at any calamity that could befall him—I’ll leave him to God; and though I abhor my own life, I’ll leave that, too, to Him that gave it.”

“But you see, in this case,” pleaded Hattersley—

“I’ll not hear you!” exclaimed his companion, hastily turning away. “Not another word! I’ve enough to do against the fiend within me.”

“Then you’re a white-livered fool, and I wash my hands of you,” grumbled the tempter, as he swung himself round and departed.

“Right, right, Lord Lowborough,” cried I, darting out and clasping his burning hand, as he was moving away to the stairs. “I begin to think the world is not worthy of you!”

Lowborough’s rejection of duelling is also a rejection of suicide (“and though I abhor my own life, I’ll leave that to Him that gave it”), and this rejection in spite of strong temptation is further emphasized:

I lay awake the greater part of [the night] listening to his heavy step pacing monotonously up and down his dressing-room, which was nearest my chamber. Once I heard him pause and throw something out of the window with a passionate ejaculation; and in the morning, after they were gone, a keen-bladed clasp-knife was found on the grass-plot below; a razor, likewise, was snapped in two and thrust deep into the cinders of the grate, but partially corroded by the decaying embers. So strong had been the temptation to end his miserable life, so determined his resolution to resist it.

Helen’s internal thoughts give further praise of Lowborough, and condemn the social values that make being cheated on a greater source of shame and condemnation for a man than cheating is:

"That man," I thought, "is an object of scorn to his friends and the nice-judging world. The false wife and the treacherous friend who have wronged him are not so despised and degraded as he; and his refusal to avenge his wrongs has removed him yet farther beyond the range of sympathy, and blackened his name with a deeper disgrace. He knows this; and it doubles his burden of woe. He sees the injustice of it, but he cannot bear up against it; he lacks that sustaining power of self-esteem which leads a man, exulting in his own integrity, to defy the malice of traducing foes and give them scorn for scorn—or, better still, which raises him above earth's foul and turbulent vapours, to repose in Heaven's eternal sunshine. He knows that God is just, but cannot see His justice now: he knows this life is short, and yet death seems insufferably far away; he believes there is a future state, but so absorbing is the agony of this that he cannot realize its rapturous repose. He can but bow his head to the storm, and cling, blindly, despairingly, to what he knows to be right. Like the shipwrecked mariner cleaving to a raft, blinded, deafened, bewildered, he feels the waves sweep over him, and sees no prospect of escape; and yet he knows he has no hope but this, and still, while life and sense remain, concentrates all his energies to keep it. Oh, that I had a friend's right to comfort him, and tell him that I never esteemed him so highly as I do this night!"

I feel that Anne Brontë was trying to make women’s rights - specifically, the right to 1) be treated as morally and intellectually equal to men, and not as either angels to inspire or delicate flowersto be preserved; 2) be taught the dangers of a bad marriage fully and frankly in order to avoid them; 3) leave an abusive marriage, and to have forms of abuse other than physical abuse recognized as abuse, and to keep custody of their children on leaving such a marriage; and 4) have some way of earning a respectable independent living upon leaving such a marriage - an integrated part of the wider moral reform movement, and both those threads are strongly present throughout her book. (In some respects this succeeded, at least insofar as the suffrage movement and the temperance movement were very closely tied together. It’s not always remembered enough that a huge element of the temperance movement was the right to not have your husband be drunk all the time (often leading to violence) and waste all your money.)

#the tenant of wildfell hall #wildfell weekly #anne bronte #helen graham #lord lowborough #cw suicide #tw suicide

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merp-blerp · 7 months ago

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A Gaylor interpretation of "The Prophecy" because if Taylor never sleeps why should I?

TW: I tried to keep it mostly light, but ended up veering into brief talk of self-destructive behavior and suicide near the end.

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

"Hand on the throttle / Thought I caught lightning in a bottle / Oh, but it's gone again"

I think this song is about failed coming outs and closeting. Of course, many in this community know of the Lover failed coming out, but God only knows if that was really the only attempt. I think she tried to at least subtly come out several times. But during Lover, she and many others thought she would finally make it out of the closet, a once-in-a-lifetime chance, fully ready to go and take control, but plans were foiled. If it wasn't the first or last attempt, the chance was gone again.

"And it was written / I got cursed like Eve got bitten / Oh, was it punishment?"

Taylor begins to question if her coming out plan(s?) fell short because she's cursed for being who she is. Was she cursed like Eve was for biting the forbidden fruit? Eve in some interpretations of Christianity is often seen as the blame for all the world's sins, with Mother Mary being seen as God's Eve "do-over", since Mary stayed obedient to God's wishes. Sometimes Eve is even depicted as tempting or tricking Adam into eating the fruit, it being her fault he fell, rather than his own choices ruining him. Whether or not Eve is actually to blame could be debated forever, not unlike how Christians debate similarly about whether the bible is okay with queerness or not. Taylor wonders if never being seen as who she is by the general public is a punishment for her simply being. Interestingly, Taylor changes Eve's story, saying Eve was bitten, rather than the biter, possibly by the serpent/Devil in the garden gate of Eden. Being bitten by a snake actually reminds me more of Cleopatra more than Eve, but I'll elaborate more on that later.

"Pad around when I get home / I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope / A greater woman wouldn't beg / But I looked to the sky and said / Please / I've been on my knees / Change the prophecy / Don't want money / Just someone who wants my company / Let it once be me / Who do I have to speak to / About if they can redo the prophecy?"

Somewhat self-explanatory. Taylor anxiously paces as she asks God if her fate can change. If she can just get free. She doesn't want the money that comes from the beardings and closeting any longer. She just wants to be seen for who she is. She wants someone who wants the real Taylor's company, not the showmanship Taylor. She wonders what God or entity she has to ask to be freed from the cage.

"Cards on the table / Mine play out like fools in a fable"

Taylor has used card games as imagery before, usually in situations where she feels like someone isn't being honest with her, playing her. Most significantly for this reading, in "Foolish One" she speaks about how her cards were on the table, or that she was being open and vulnerable, while that song's muse wasn't showing theirs, as they weren't being clear, leading her on. In this situation, Taylor is once again laying all her cards out for the world to see, but it's foolish because the world never sees it, whether it's from not knowing how to or not wanting to. Fables are very similar to folklore or folktales, characterized as short, clear, fictional stories, often featuring animals. Taylor is saying that while her cards are clear, her stories must be told through vague, or "fool" characters that distance her from them, fictionalized. Both Gaylors and general Swifties seem to currently agree that her album Folklore has truth in it and isn't fully fictionalized, but exactly how much is fiction, and who represents who seems to be where opinions differ. And then there's a lot of infighting between the sides of the fandoms, so Taylor stays mostly unseen and caged.

"Oh, it was sinking in (Sinking in, oh) / Slow is the quicksand / Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand / Oh, still I dream of him"

The feeling that she'll never be free sinks in, slowly over time, like sinking into quicksand is slow, or poison through your body from a small prick. She dreams of someone. One way to look at this is that she's dreaming of someone she loves, the muse of this album. I, however, for now at least, get this feeling that the dream is actually more of a nightmare. I mentioned in my makeshift theory on "The Manuscript" that I believed "The Professor/He" was a personification of the music industry or an industry boss. Taylor's said before that she's had nightmares about the crummier aspects of the industry, like unwanted photos and videos of herself. Maybe she still does (as a slight sidenote, I feel like this could be connected to Kissgate, as that was filmed without her wishes, and arguably when the closeting and bearding amped up heavily). She even mentions nightmares in "Cassandra".

"And I sound like an infant / Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen / A greater woman stays cool / But I howl like a wolf at the moon / And I look unstable / Gathered with a coven 'round a sorceress' table / A greater woman has faith / But even statues crumble if they're made to wait"

The ink pen feels like Taylor's saying that she's slowly burning out, down to the last drop in her, tired of writing letters addressed to the fire and sending signals, as she runs out of ways to say her truth just for it to fall upon deaf ears. A more stable woman wouldn't show her pain, but she's so loud about her truth like a wolf, yet soundless. She gets more desperate like a helpless child as she continues to wait, still grappling with the guilt that can come from being queer and a Christian at the same time, like she's a witch with a coven. She knows she's supposed to keep her faith by staying in the unseen shade of the closet, after all, "There's no such thing as bad thoughts / Only your actions talk (from "Guilty as Sin?")". But waiting to be free for however long is taking its toll. At the Spotify TTPD pop-up library, Taylor featured what's seemingly a bust of Artemis/Diana, the Greek/Roman goddess of the, most significant to Taylor, archery. (Yes, the name Diana is very curious for Gaylors, but—unpopular opinion—maybe—I don't think it actually means too much to the song itself) After hearing about an Artemis statue being destroyed in regards to that symbolism, when digging, I found a few stories about Artemis/Diana's statues or temples being destroyed, whether it's half of Diana of the Tower burning and the other half being lost or the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus being the victim of arson in 4th century BCE. Just like Artemis/Diana, Taylor gets destroyed unexpectedly. (I've also heard of an Artemis/Diana statue that was destroyed by time, but I can't find a source for that story that doesn't connect to the Taylor pop-up).

"I'm so afraid I sealed my fate / No sign of soulmates / I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige / Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay"

Taylor fears that her fate to never be seen is her fault, as she willingly participated in the closeting and beardings, so she's cursed to stay that way forever, never getting to mingle with other queers as one of them, like a soulmate, but an "ally", as she's too big to hang out with them. In slang, a paperweight is a useless object; Taylor probably knows that her coming out could mean a lot for queer people and the movement, but since she hasn't been able to come out, at least not in a way that is universally recognized, she feels useless compared to what she could be. Greige is a combo of grey and beige, much like the sepia aesthetic of this album. It's almost colorless, as she is forced to be grey rather than a rainbow with all of the colors due to closeting. The use of sepia or greige could symbolize that this album still has a thin coat of bearding and closeting attached to it, even though it could also be seen as a big step into the daylight. She tried to see daylight times before, "but the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light" (from "Peter"), at least for now. After her "postmortem", Taylor spends what I interpret as an obol, a coin a shade, or ghost, given to them before burial, that's paid to Charon, the underworld ferryman in Greek mythology; the fee would let a shade cross the river Styx to get to Hades. But Taylor pays only in the hopes of being comforted by someone after her "death". To be told that everything will be okay after the grey fallout. An obol would be the last thing a person would own from their time on earth, so it's her last coin. Taylor being a shade could call back to lyrics like, "Shade never made anybody less gay", in "YNTCD", having the double meaning of shade as in vitriol and the dark shade of the closet, and "Sit quiet by my side in the shade" in "Paris", where her private lover quietly sits in the closet with her. In "The Archer", Taylor mentions "And all of my heroes die all alone", interpretively due to them being queer and not getting to have a privileged life in that sense. Maybe in the afterlife, Taylor hopes to find and be comforted by one of these heroes.

I mentioned Cleopatra earlier, and while as far as I know Cleopatra wasn't queer, she is treated similarly to Eve, often blamed for the temptation of men; Cleopatra allegedly self-inflicted a snake bite to end her life, like how Taylor's Eve was bitten. Taylor has similarly been treated like Eve and Cleopatra, seen as "going through men like potato chips (a real fucking quote I found while researching for this post)" whether that's the exact case or not. Taylor's also illuded to self-inflicting harmful actions that could kill her in several songs, like "Hoax", and including on TTPD: "Love left me like this and I don't want to exist" from "Florida!!!" Even quicksand and poison mentioned in this song are ways to die. Whatever the reason behind these lines might be, I hate that she may feel that way and I worry that it's a somewhat ignored aspect of her music, brushed off as dramatic. It makes the asylum theme of TTPD much more tragic. I wish nothing but the best for Taylor. 🤍

I make a part 2 part to this

#tinkered with this instead of sleeping hope you like it ✌️#i love this album it's ruining my life #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #the prophecy #gaylor #gaylor swift #friend of dorothea #lgbetty #gaylor theory #song analysis

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hrefna-the-raven · 1 year ago

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Simril

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Notes: a little something I had in mind thinking about the holidays approaching slowly but surely ☺️

Words: 1022

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Simril was not only an annual winter festival celebrated along the Sword Coast but also the perfect opportunity to gain new clients for a certain devil. That was until you entered his life...

The sun had set and the festivities of Simril had engulfed the entire city of Baldur's Gate with a magical aura, bringing joy and cheer to the hearts of its inhabitants. It was an evening filled with laughter, merriment, and the promise of the blessing received upon finding the lucky star on the clouded sky. As the celebrations unfolded, the city became a playground of different coloured lanterns, merry tunes and enchantment. Raphael, adorned in his typical formal attire, was casually strolling through the streets during this festive day. He would wander through the bustling streets, keeping an eye out for potential clients and his so-called business opportunities. However, on this particular Simril, fate had something else in store for him.

Unbeknownst to Raphael, someone had been observing him, studying his every move. It was you, the mysterious figure lurking with in the shadows, a mischievous smile painted across your face. Since you got to know the devil, you always thought that he was way too focused on gaining souls, signing contracts, never truly embracing the tempting pleasures of his nature. So, of course, you had devised a plan, daring and audacious as you usually were according to your devil, to capture Raphael's attention and demanded a favour from one of his more noble debtors. As you caught sight of Raphael meandering along a bustling road, you couldn't resist any longer. With a swift and confident stride, you approached him, taking his arm and leading him away from the noisy crowd.

"What in the nine hells?", Raphael cursed, slightly bewildered, yet willingly complying with your guidance, captivated by your audacity.

You guided him through a myriad of hidden passages, until you arrived at a secluded courtyard adorned with exquisite decorations. The air was filled with the delightful fragrance of heated wine and the faint echoes of a minstrel's tune. In the center, a bonfire crackled, casting captivating shadows that danced around the surroundings. With a mischievous sparkle in your eyes, you presented Raphael with a cup of warm, spiced wine.

"Join me," you whispered, your voice carrying a note of invitation, "sit with me by the fire, let the music fill the night and let us enjoy ourselves."

Intrigued, Raphael complied, settling down next to you on a cushioned seat. The bard's melodies filled the air, wrapping the courtyard in a blanket of tender notes.

"If I am not mistaken, and I rarely am, this particular courtyard belongs to one of my debtors," Raphael calmly remarked, "and that bard over there recently signed his contract with me."

You delicately sipped your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. Uncertainty filled your mind as you pondered whether this could potentially mark your final day on this mortal plane, condemned to be dragged down to the depths of hell for your transgressions. Although, there remained a tiny glimmer of hope that you might escape punishment for borrowing two of his clients for your own purposes. As you drained the last remnants of your wine, the devil snapped his fingers, conjuring two handwritten notes that ominously hovered before you.

"I do believe that is your handwriting," he declared, his fingers gently finding your chin and tilting your head upward to examine the notes, "And my signature, which, if I may say so myself, appears rather convincingly authentic."

You hummed, eyes darting to Raphael's unreadable expression. Deep within you, a sense of fear began to rise as he stood up, reaching out to lift you from the bench. His strong fingers curled around your neck, his piercing gaze digging into the depths of your soul. Even in his human form, his aura exuded authority and danger, reminding you of who he truly was.

"My little mouse", Raphael sighed, unable to hide a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I can't decide whether to be angry or proud of your audacious escapades."

"I'd prefer the latter", you offered, attempting to conceal your mounting anxiety, "after all it was all in favour of you relaxing for once."

"I bet you do, little mouse", the devil laughed, his mind lingering on the last part of your statement.

As the fire flickered, casting a warm glow on your face, he suddenly was all to aware of how effortlessly you succeeded at wiggling your way into his heart. He couldn't deny that he had grown rather fond of you, for reasons that would forever elude him, you had chosen to stick by his side and help him without any contract or asking anything in return. The memories of how he huffed in sheer disbelief as you claimed that you simply liked him were still as fresh as the day they were forged. No mortal had ever demonstrated such unwavering loyalty, not to him nor, he would stake his wretched soul on it, to any other devil in the infernal realms. And yet here you were, going through all the trouble and danger to ensure he would have one evening to enjoy himself. Raphael leaned in, pressing his lips on yours in a tender kiss, muffling your surprised gasp. To hell with all that meant being a devil, his mind urged him. Under the spell of the enchanting atmosphere, Raphael allowed himself to embrace his humanity, if only for this night. He resolved that there was more to existence than the relentless pursuit of souls—at least for this fleeting moment.

A wistful smile formed on your lips as you broke the kiss, your eyes sparkling with pure happiness and Raphael couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His little mouse, a potential client who became his unlikely ally and, if he'd had any say in the matter, would become even more in the days to come. You suddenly jumped away, looking up to the sky, gasping as your hands found his, fingers intertwining with his.

"I found my lucky star", you giggled, "do devils have a lucky star?"

"No", Raphael chuckled, "but I have a suspicion that this particular one just might", he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips as he kept his eyes locked on your silhouette.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x you #fluff #Raphael fluff #simril #festivities

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crissiebaby · 1 month ago

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DiapOut: Chapter 39

DISCLAIMER: This series contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation, WAM, hypermessing, crossdressing, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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*WHISTLE!*

“Work it, girl!” shouted Lelaya, giggling at Zeke as he approached his team’s spot on the gameboard. Unlike the rest of her group, her love for big dresses and even bigger diapers was too great for her not to appreciate Zeke’s transformation.

Unfortunately, Ayaya was far from pleased with Lelaya cheering on their opponents. “Why are you happy?!” she said, jabbing her elbow against Lelaya’s side. “They’re only 5 points back now because, for whatever reason, you and Mia keep giving the worst challenges to our own team!“

“Will you give it a rest already?” chimed Mia, sitting on the floor with her legs sprawled out in a V-formation. In her eyes, it didn’t matter how well their team did. Not with Keelee and Jackson pulling the strings backstage. No doubt, they were on course for that 40-point finish line bonus, which would wipe out any mistakes made throughout the round, though it wasn’t like she could outright say that without major repercussions. Given that she was about to be stuffed into a conjoined diaper with baby-brain Misa before taking her actual turn, she had much more pressing issues on her plate than some stupid scoreboard. “Just worry about yourself and stop barking at everyone.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose harshly, Ayaya was in utter disbelief over her team’s apparent apathy. “Five-Hundred Thousand dollars is on the line here, Mia! That’s a five with five zeros behind it; more than any of us have ever seen. So, we’d better get our shit together fast unless we wanna end up as four zeros. You got it?” she said as she thumped Mia’s foot with her own while her fingers traced the edges of the medallion around her neck. She was almost half-tempted to use it on Mia’s upcoming turn just to get her sour-puss attitude out of the way with no ramifications. However, the idea of leaving her fate up to the heart of the dice felt like a massive risk. Clutching the gold disk with the shape of a binky carved into it, she may have wanted to win but not at the cost of humiliating herself more than she already had.

Zeke, meanwhile, remained unbothered by the squabbling girls, tuning them out alongside the applause and idle cackling of his new, uproarious fans. With his back straight and a pep in his step, he felt weightless as he reunited with Cade and Rupert. “Make way, peasants. The queen hath arrived,” he said jokingly, his pompous, British accent leaving a lot to be desired.

“Oh, deawy me, your highness. Whewe art my mannews?” responded Cade, playing along with Zeke as he placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head. An obnoxious *SLURP!* soon followed his statement as he struggled to keep himself from drooling over the THC-laced paci he was forced to suck on.

Sadly, Cade’s enthusiasm wasn’t shared by Rupert, his mind still lingering on Kyoko’s outburst. “Well done, dude. Takes a big man to wear a dress like that,” he said, giving Zeke his props before pivoting to his concerns. “Not to detract from the win but why was Kyoko yelling for you to turn down the punishment? Did something happen–”

“Huh? What? Nononono, everything’s fine. Better than fine, in fact,” said Zeke, his serotonin-fueled mind refusing to acknowledge the ridiculous amounts of stress his mind had been under for the past 90 minutes. He briefly shot a glance at Kyoko’s way, glimpsing at the pained sorrow painted across her face before looking toward the hem of his poofy skirt. “She and I are just…peachy…”

Sinking down into the Potty Monster’s sloppy pudding pit, Kyoko didn’t need anything more than Zeke’s cold shoulder to get the message. Whether or not he found some form of catharsis through his extreme humiliation didn’t matter; his animosity toward her wasn’t going anywhere. All of a sudden, the toilet-shaped cell she was locked in until her next turn felt more like a sanctuary than a prison.

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“EYYA! Ha! There we go!” proclaimed Keelee with renewed vigor now that the final tape of Mia and Misa’s double-seated diaper was secure. Her efforts warranted some muted claps, though most of the audience by this point had grown bored with the extended diapering process. “Okay, according to the instructions, the tapes should fully seal in a couple of minutes. We’ll be moving right into Mia’s turn next, so you two sit tight for now and try not to move too much,” she said, patting the side of the overly complicated nappy.

Shifting in place awkwardly, there was no angle Mia could sit at where her fluffy white diaper wasn't squishing up against Misa’s equally thick booty. As if diapers didn’t already make her pelvic region a swampy nightmare, now she had to contend with another person’s body heat on top of that. Building upon her dread was the distance from CassiRole’s raised platform to her space on the board. “So, like, are you really gonna make us walk back and forth?” she asked, yet to get over how sore her legs were from her previous challenge.

“Huh? Oh, right. No, I was lying,” Keelee said without an inkling of remorse. Although, her inner sadist couldn’t help but soak in Mia’s deliciously distraught expression.

The little hairs on the backs of Mia’s arms stood at attention as she viciously scowled at Keelee. Every fiber of her being wanted to rip the diaper off her body and smack that cocky look off the production manager’s face. Tragically, telling off Keelee would have to wait as a far bigger problem reared its foul-smelling head.

*PFFFFFFFT!*

“Hehehe! Whoopsie! My tum stiww feews weiwd,” said Misa as an onslaught of gassy pressure overtook her grumbly gut. Had she not been hypnotized, she would’ve sooner let her belly explode than fart in such a public space. Instead, her reaction was closer to that of an actual infant, happily kicking her feet as her strained intestines expelled the stinky pocket of air from her body.

Needless to say, Mia wasn’t thrilled with the idea of cozying up to Misa's muddy diaper even with two extra layers of protection between them. “Don’t even think about it, Misa. If you try to use this diaper, I am ripping it off. Got it?” she said sternly, giving the audience something new to chuckle about as she leaned away from Misa’s tailpipe. If it weren’t for the fact she just cost her team a mess of points, she would’ve already taken the L.

With Mia’s threat replaying in her head, Misa could feel her bratty nature trying to take over, compelling her to do the opposite of what she was told. At the same time, her regressed mind was very much enjoying the buddy system of the CrissBaby Buddies Diaper. Thus, the idea of grossing Mia out and scaring her away, while fun on paper, was something she knew would only end up sidelining her until her next turn in the rotation. “Don be such a baby! I nuh goin poopy,” she said, giving Mia the reassurance she craved whilst failing to understand why the live studio audience found her declaration so funny.

“Can we please get the game going again? Soon?” said Mia, seeking an end to Round Three as quickly as possible. She was willing to deal with whatever embarrassing scenario Cassi was about to throw at her so long as it got her out of the conjoined diaper before Misa’s tummy decided it needed to purge something more noxious than gas.

While she possessed zero pity for Mia’s plight, one thing Keelee could get 100% behind was the idea of moving this show forward. “Alright, alright. The tapes should be good by now so we can move on. Cassi, you’re back up,” she said, clearing the stage and getting herself in position to cue Cassi in. “Camera, check! Sound, check! Let’s do this like we’ve got places to be! Quiet on…set…” she announced, trailing off as she was forced to wait for Mia and Misa to shimmy into a standing position, which took an additional, patience-draining minute to complete. Not wanting to sit around until something else halted production, she held her hand up and began her countdown, “5, 4, 3…”

“Wow! That was some showing by Zeke! Give him another big hand, everyone!” said Cassi, linking the current scene up to the end of Zeke’s dress-up punishment for a seamless transition while simultaneously whipping up the energy of the crowd. “The Messers still have some work to do if they’re gonna catch their rivals, the Wetters. Too bad for them, the Baby New Year is back, and looking for some revenge! Mia, are you excited for your second turn?”

The vacancy in Mia’s gaze was quickly growing as the strength it took out of her to merely stand up in the two-person diaper made it difficult to pay attention. At least, she didn’t have to try super hard to convince the viewers she was also hypnotized. “Uh, sure. Yeah…so excited,” she mumbled, unable to feign any enthusiasm whatsoever.

“Wonderful! I’ll let you take over from here!” said Cassi, refusing to let her performance be brought down by Mia’s downtrodden attitude. Deciding to have a bit of extra fun at the expense of her mopey contestant, she offered Mia the large dice block only to bump it out of her hands at the last minute in a way that made it look entirely like Mia’s fault. The result was Mia clumsily bobbling the oversized cube before losing her grip on it entirely, landing her measly two spaces for her troubles. “Uh oh!” she said as she pressed a finger to her ear and pretended as though her director was speaking to her. “Uh-huh, got it. Sorry, Mia, the boys backstage say that counts. Luckily, that puts you smack-dab on a green space, which means it’s time for another betting mini-game! Let’s go to the board!”

Collecting herself as the digital spinner went round and round, Mia had just about had it with Cassi and Keelee’s endless cruelty. Run down and desperate for a reprieve, her ability to care about whether or not she won anymore was quickly weening. If they wanted her to suffer for their amusement, then she was done being their obedient conspirator.

The Change-Off Gauntlet.

“Oh, boy! This’ll be fun!” said Cassi, already imagining how much more chaotic Mia’s upcoming challenge was going to be with another body attached to her hip. “I hope you both have fond memories of the first round because Mia’s betting mini-game, you two are tasked with racing through each segment of The Change-Off in under two minutes!” Circling behind Mia and Misa so that she could throw her arm around each of them, she gleefully gestured to the back of the sound stage as lights once again rose on the set from Round One. “Well, Mia, you and the Wetters have the lead but it’s still anyone’s game. How many points are you willing to risk?”

Thinking back on how production had rigged the game for her up to this point, it was obvious they wanted Mia to be smart and play it safe to maintain her team's tentative lead. Unfortunately, the palpable combination of guilt and anger made her want to do something incredibly stupid. Moreover, as much as she didn’t want to be the sole reason her team crashed and burned, there was a large part of her that wanted to prove she had earned her win, and a physical challenge such as this was the perfect opportunity. Leaning into the mic that Cassi was pointing at her, she smirked directly into the camera, “Let’s put 50 points on the line and see what happens.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Wetters: 161.1 (+/-10) points Messers: 156.7 (+/-10) points

« PREVIOUS l FIRST l NEXT »

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💕 Story By CrissieBaby 💕 💙 Edited By AllySmolShork 💙 💚 Edited By AliceKChan 💚

SubscribeStar: subscribestar.adult/crissiebaby pixivFANBOX: crissiebaby.fanbox.cc All CB Links: linktr.ee/crissiebaby

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlushyBen DD JFN Nike Pansy Jason Sissikins PrincessKittenLizzi Rosie Princess SissyDina Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca Tony & Two Anonymous Investors

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mikomiproblemateke · 2 months ago

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TW: CANNIBALISM

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The forbidden fruit is said to be sweet, but only for people. For holy beings like the archangels, the forbidden fruit is more poisonous and dangerous than fire, capable at best of burning wings or driving someone crazy.

After a certain tempting serpent got into the garden of Eden, feeding the forbidden fruit to Adam and Eve, all the archangels began to be wary not only of what surrounds them, but also of each other. Not to say that there was some kind of split in their team, but as if they were not telling themselves something, and this is already felt most strongly.

"Mr. Death!" Luke's playful nicknames somehow helped to cope with the situation. "Let me treat you to these fruits."

Morningstar passes over some juicy pale red apples. They look so appetizing that even Samael had a certain feeling of hunger. The temptation was enormous, to which Volkov, to his own regret, succumbed. Although he was young, by the standards of the archangels, he should have had some kind of willpower, as he himself believed.

Luke hurriedly left, not wanting to interfere with his friend, and Samael just twirls the apple in his hands. He decided to try it, why not?

The taste of the fruit was so sweet that I didn't want anything else. It is impossible to achieve such a taste on your own – the hand of God is clearly attached to this. And only one fruit had such a taste...

The forbidden fruit had already penetrated the archangel's body, was already poisoning his mind, was already beginning to beckon with more cruel, perverted temptations. Everything seemed so pleasant and inviting that Samael himself did not notice how he had killed one of the reapers in his office.

The wings were stiff and the feathers only got stuck in the teeth. Definitely not the best part of their body, unlike their warm flesh, which only grew colder in his hands over time. Skin, veins, blood... It's so delicious that it's impossible to break away. And even when the young reaper's body did not leave any tasty parts behind, Samael began to eat the remains of his darling. Ah, their soul... The Reaper got caught with a delicious soul that gave Volkov strength. He felt something pleasant pass through his body, but it was so little. One soul is not enough. He need more, more, more! Oh, he started to go crazy, but how fucking good it is!

***

"Killing about a hundred of your own reapers, Samael..." there is disappointment and hopelessness in Uriel's once neutral voice. He expected from anyone, but not from Volkov. "Do you have any excuses?"

No, there are none. He succumbed to the influence, which caused him to lose control of both himself and his powers. With just a glance, he could kill all the angels present, so he has a bandage on his face and shackles on his hands.

"It was good for me." he answers with a smile. He didn't seem to care how many mournful, judgmental, and anxious looks were on him. He felt good at that moment. He wasn't going to give up on the pleasure.

There was silence. Cassiel doesn't know where to put herself, Gabriel is afraid, Michael is desperate, and only Luke remained neutral. Suddenly Uriel breaks the silence:

"Samael Volkov, the former archangel of death and the commander of reapers, is guilty. As punishment for your crimes, you will be banished to hell with your wings torn out. The trial is over.

After that, Uriel is removed. No one else saw him. And Samael was taken out, and then the wings were really torn out. This is a really terrible fate for an archangel, literally one of the most painful things he can experience.

Before he was exiled, he muttered.

"I'll be back for you two."

After these words, even Luke felt uneasy. Even if Samael was exiled, his words against him can be convincing at least for Cassiel, and she, in turn, is not someone who is easily befuddled even by love and sweet nothings.

It's only a matter of time before the true culprit of the forbidden fruit case reveals their face.

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#boyfriend to death #boyfriend to death 2 #samael volkov #samael #drabble #cannibal samael is my favourite now #samael and cassiel are my parents #she will die #or maybe not #i'll think about it

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redfurrycat · 2 years ago

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🐓🤠Hangster Fic Recs🤠 🐓

🐓🤠Hangster Goodies to Read! 🐓🤠

[Recs List 1]

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

List of Hangster Ao3 Authors in Recs List 1:

[Recs List 1] - [Recs List 2] - [Recs List 3] - [Recs List 4] - [Recs List 5]

the many different career paths Bradley Bradshaw could have picked by haridwar

these are standalone works based on the idea of 'what if Mav had been honest with Bradley when Carole died and he ended up following her wishes to not be a fighter pilot' and all the different ways he and Jake might then meet

1- Tattoo artist {T}; 2- Bartender {T}; 3- Influencer (-ish) {T}; 4- Doctor {T}; 5- Musician {T}; 6- Surfer & Lifeguard {M}; 7- Personal Assistant {E}; 8- Test Pilot {M}; 9- Undercover Cop {M}; 10- Grad Student & Retail Worker {T}; 11- Baker {M}; 12- Artist {T}; 13- Pilot {M}; 14- Bodyguard {T}; 15- Ranch Foreman {M}; 16- Author {T}; 17- Aviation Technician {M}; 18- Navy Seal {T}; 19- Ex-con/Bartender {M}; 20- Mechanic {T}; 21- Internal Investigator {T}; 22- Journalist {M}; 23- Hunter {T}; 24- Photographer {T};

Love Nest series by AnadoraBlack {T} {E}

Bradley Bradshaw and his son throw Jake Seresin's life upside down, but he's willing to follow them for the ride…

Love Nest Series [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics

peace was never an option by lilgreyarea {T}

Goose considers turning in his wings if it means he’ll be spared having to listen to even one more rambly, sappy monologue about Ice’s eyes.

Goose spent twenty-five years thinking that it couldn’t get worse than his best friends, and now he feels like he’s being punished for tempting fate like that.

Watching, I Keep Waiting by infinitejaust {G}

Bradley determinedly did not let himself think of the past, of that one golden summer with Jacob Seresin, younger brother of the Admiral.

Jacob Seresin would be spending any time in his older brother’s new household, Bradley did not know. At least he would be removed to Bath, and mercifully not subjected to any awkward reunions if Captain Seresin did return.

[A Persuasion retelling]

learning steps by vannral {E}

So, an instructor?”

A straight hit. Bradley shifts uncomfortably on the leather seat and clears his throat. ”… Yeah.”

In which Bradley becomes an instructor after the mission, Jake keeps showing up to his classes and his students are very curious about their dynamic.

Handle With Care by Barnes_Brain {E}

Ever since he could remember, Bradley wanted to be a pilot. When he was seventeen his dad, and Ice, pulled his papers from the Naval Academy. When he was barely 22 they did it again and pulled his wings out from underneath him. Stamped with a Do Not Fly he’d been delegated to Catapult Officer. After a particularly long deployment, and a very short fight, Bradley gets his chance at becoming a Naval Aviator as he’s always dreamed of.

Once he’s got his wings of gold he meets Jake “Hangman” Seresin, another young pilot. He’s cocky, headstrong, handsome, brash, witty, striking, and most of all oblivious to the fact that Bradley is not flight deck crew anymore, or the son of the Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. So maybe Bradley has the hots for the obnoxious pilot who looks like a Greek god. And maybe he doesn’t want to scare him off. Sue him.

Lions and Tigers and...Vultures? by ReformedTsundere {G}

As much as he can admit to himself that it's interesting, being inside the different enclosures, it's also not something that's done lightly. Still… Bradley can see the excitement poorly masked in Jake's expression, he's heard the other man talk about his cats like they're common house pets, and he wants to share that with Bradley just a little.

He already knows he's going to regret it before the 'alright' even crosses his lips. (+ Podfic)

Summer's not that bad after all... by AnadoraBlack {M}

Jake "Hangman" Seresin knows he loves Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. That doesn't mean he intends to do anything about it…

Clueless by platinumdollz {T}

Everything begins to go wrong the second Phoenix asks Rooster for a favor. One that involves flirting with a certain Hangman. One that spirals into disaster immediately following.

i’ve got a song for your playlist (i wish i could play it to you) by starryinspace {G}

"The logical step would be to call Bradley and tell him that he feels the exact same way. That the feeling is mutual. Has felt the exact same way for weeks. But calling Bradley would involve admitting that he was snooping through his phone when he shouldn’t have been. Besides, it’s just a playlist, Jake tells himself. A playlist that means absolutely nothing. Friends make secret playlists about each other all the time. Friends also definitely listen to songs about falling in love with each other at 3 am.

Right?

Right."

when jake is tasked with controlling the music in the bronco, he discovers that bradley has a secret playlist about him. but what bradley doesn’t know is that jake maybe (definitely) has a playlist of his own, too.

Flock Together Universe by LadyLanera {G} {T}

They made it home. Settled into becoming a family with Amelia and Penny. Rooster finally had that chance of his happily ever after he dreamed of. Only he was pretty certain that Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn't into him regardless of what everyone claimed otherwise. No one was that big of a dick to someone they liked…right?

his dark materials / dæmon AU by pearljamz {T}

A series of one-shots about fighter pilots and their daemons.

it's lily's world and sereshaw are just living in it by SOBERHYUCK {T}

how lillian bradshaw got two fathers, another grandpa, and a bunch of uncles and aunts + how she grew up with them

Guardian Goose by Comin2U {T}

Goose didn't mean to stick around when he died. But here he was, attached to 3 people and still yelling at Mav 30 years later.

aka Guardian Angel Goose is tied to Iceman, Maverick, and Bradley and proceeds to spend 30 years yelling at all of them for being idiots in some fashion. Though only 1 of them can see him

and they were rivals (oh my god they were rivals) by ginnydear

unsportsmanlike conduct {M}

He didn’t expect there to be highlight reels of him and Jake Seresin arguing and jawing at each other after their first game against each other. His Uncle Mav’s recorded it, saying it’s the beginning of his long, successful career - to have a rival.

Bradley thinks it’s a pain in the ass.

or - the hangster nfl au

jersey swap {M}

“I think you’re right, and I’d dare to say that’s Bradley Bradshaw next to her. He and Robert Floyd have been friends since college, if you remember that from their draft.”

The camera stays on the group for a second longer and then it switches to where Floyd is standing on the sideline, a large blue coat covering his body. He’s talking to Jake Seresin and the camera catches the moment they both look up towards the stands, Floyd waving excitedly. The screen splits in time to see Natasha waving back, as well as everyone around her.

or - a hangster nfl au slice of life

skills test {E}

“I don’t have all day, Bradshaw,” Jake yells, dribbling the ball a few times. Bradley pauses and bends his knees, bouncing the ball between his hands.

“Such impatience,” Bradley says, starting to move the other direction. Jake takes the ball in one hand and cocks his arm back, watching with glee as Bradley’s eyes widen a bit. “Take the shot then!” or - jake and bradley are selected to the pro bowl.

You Broke My Will, But What a Thrill by soisserieux {_}

Bradley shrugs. “No one there knows about us yet. We didn’t really get together until after we graduated, and I don’t know about you, but I haven’t really mentioned to anyone that I’m dating the Jake Seresin.”

“Are you trying to decide how to tell them?” Jake asks.

Bradley settles back into his chair. “Actually, I was considering what would happen if we didn’t.”

“If we didn’t tell them?”

A mischievous grin appears on Bradley’s face, and holy shit, that’s another one of Jake’s favorite expressions.

“I was thinking about challenging you to a competition.”

Jake grins. “I’m listening.”

Set it Up AU by AnadoraBlack

Don't you dare! {T}

Bradley Bradshaw is happy working as his godfather Pete Mitchell's P.A. Very happy. . Jake Seresin is less happy working as Tom Kazansky, the Iceman's P.A., but it's not that bad. Just that he wished he could spend more time with his smoking hot firefighter boyfriend. . Neither are meant to meet. But their bosses and their complicated history brings Bradley and Jake together in an unexpected way. What could go wrong with setting one's bosses up, eh? . [The Set it Up AU everyone asked for]

Global Warming {T}

[Companion piece to "Don't you dare!"]

Nearly twenty years ago, Pete Mitchell broke Tom Kazansky's heart. Now, they are doomed to work in the same city building, and to sometimes run into each other in the lobby. It'll all be fine (although not) if their P.A.s hadn't decided to set them up…

Neon Hawaiian Boardshorts by SaintClaire {T}

An IRL photo prompt, that I saw years ago, and adored.

'Dad took us to the water park. We are 26.'

...

“What in the ever-loving fuck are those, Bradshaw?” Hangman bellows from the other side of the hanger as Rooster strolls in.

To be fair, most of the rest of them look up and blink at Rooster’s garishly coloured Hawaiian board shorts.

Rooster blows him a kiss and gives a two fingered reply.

A Shift in Feelings by Fuddlewuddle {T}

Bradley Bradshaw has a secret that only one person alive--Mav--knows about. He's a shifter and can transform into a Bobcat. When they all return alive from the mission, and Bradley shifts for the first time in years, he's realises that there's one other person he wants to know his secret. Here's hoping Jake Seresin won't live up to his call sign and leave Bradley hanging out to dry when he finds out Bradley is the big cat that's spread out on top of him whilst he's slept, or when Bradley tells him his cat views Jake as his Mate.

Hang the Hangman with Love by xihe1874 {T}

Dagger Squad 🗡️✈️

[Hangman removes Rooster from the group chat]

[Hangman changes the name of group chat to “Let’s find out the lucky and unfortunate bastard ”] Hangman: Soooo

Hangman: guys

Phoenix: ?

Hangman: and gals

Fanboy: what you up to this time Hangman

Omaha: and why you kicked Rooster out

Coyote: He wants to find out who Maverick is married to

The classic "Let's find out who is Maverick's husband" bet, plus much much more shenanigans.

Hangman is feeling good, Rooster is amused, and Maverick is trying his best to drop hints. Others only have eyes for money.

He is in Love by Jeston17 {T}

“That’s the last call, I’ve gotta go, Rooster,” Jake’s voice makes it abundantly clear that ending the call is the last thing he wants to do.

Bradley can see that written across Jake’s face, “Hey, I’ll see you in less than two days.”

Jake smiles just a bit at the thought, “Yep, two days. I’ll see you then, Bradshaw. Bye.”

“Love you, bye!”

Bradley’s face instantly pales as he realizes what he’s said. Jake seems too stunned to hang up the call, his whole face blushing scarlet. A smile starts creeping over Jake’s face.

Bradley presses the hang up button so fast on his phone he’s surprised the screen doesn’t crack.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Or: Bradley tells Jake he loves him for the first time as he hangs up a FaceTime call and panics that he said it too soon

Boys Are So Dumb by mcgooglykins {G}

Bradley just needs a little push, is all.

Firefighter Calendars are a Good Idea, Roo. by dandeliondick {E}

Officer Jake 'Hangman' Seresin transferred two years ago and began his torment of firehouse 14 and specifically one Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.

Close Quarters by Sceld {T}

Hangman and Rooster in increasingly contrived situations that force them into close quarters, and finally into realising their own feelings.

’til the storm breaks loose by vannral {E}

'”Do you want to stay?” Rooster asks, willing to meet him half-way since Jake can’t get a goddamn word out.

Jake lifts his chin, his jaw clenched so hard he might crack his teeth into ground up glass.'

In which Bradley’s going into heat, Jake checks up on him and they’re faced with just how much they mean to each other.

I would like to take you down there (just to make you mine) by boobooblue {T}

He recognizes a family, though, not just for the costumes. It's the little girl that ran past him and her family, and she's in character, carrying herself just like Elsa. It is an excellent family costume, but Bradley can't tear his eyes away from one person.

Kristoff.

Hot Kristoff.

--or Bradley meets Jake thanks to his cat and invites him to a Halloween party at his house.

I’ll take my time (I’m not the forward thinker) by thegeckbros {T}

Bradley decides to pick first. He figures this way, he has a better chance of picking someone he actually knows, like Nat or Payback. He shoves his hand into the hat, mixing the slips of paper around and then clinging to one at random. For some reason, his heartbeat feels erratic as he unfolds it, as if he’s scared of the outcome. When he reads the call sign on the paper, he realizes his heart may be on to something.

Hangman, it reads, in Rooster’s own blocky script.

or Bradley gets Jake for secret Santa. Things spiral from there.

Appelle-Moi, Mon Chéri by boobooblue {E}

The guy—Bradley, sighs. "Listen, I don't really know how to do this," that makes Jake's smirk drop, a frown adorning his face instead, "I've actually never—and also hadn't called one of these lines before. You probably hear that a lot—"

One of these lines?

Oh, shit.

Is this—did Jake's number get confused with some kind of hotline?

Let it snow by AnadoraBlack {T}

Bradley should really have listened to that weather forecast. Alas, he's an idiot, so he didn't, and now, he's trapped in his appartment on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, so is his neighbour...

Being Javy Machado by Aphroditedany {M}

The hardships of being the best friend of one Jake "Hangman" Seresin...

Waking up in Vegas by ginnydear

don't be a baby (remember what you told me) {M}

In the absence of anything better to do, and the decision being made while all of them are shitfaced, they decide to go somewhere with their month off.

or - an accidental wedding in Vegas.

baby i'm ready if you're ready {G}

Jake takes bradley on their second date on their two week wedding anniversary.

I belong with you (you belong with me) by happypuppys {_}

“Deeply personal questions?” Bradley asks, raising his eyebrow, and Jake nods.

“Yes, yes.” He says. “Okay, first question: what’s your favorite color?”

or, Jake and Bradley are stuck on the top of a ferris wheel

obliterate me by fadedseas {T}

Jake Seresin comes from a long line of men that burn bright and fast, and flame out just as quickly.

He knows that Bradley Bradshaw is his soulmate. He knows that he is destined to die young. He knows that Bradley Bradshaw is going to end up killing him one day.

But Jake Seresin refuses to go quietly.

or a Cursed Soulmates AU in which all the men in Jake Seresin's family die young at the hands of their soulmates. And then Bradley's name appears on Jake's wrist.

Don't leave me, please by AnadoraBlack {M}

When Jake learns that Rooster's plane went down and he may not make it, he goes into shock. Then he decides that he WON'T let Bradley Bradshaw bail on him. No matter what he needs to do to make sure he wakes up… Don't leave me, please [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)

Pressed Sunflowers by Sceld {T}

His smug expression is the final nail in the coffin for Jake, who is doing a fucking terrible job at hiding his outright shock.

“You’re… Good at that,” he says slowly, pretending it’s not doing something for him.

or; Jake spends the night at Bradley's place and learns more than he anticipated.

do you feel the same (or was it just for fun) by burglarbilbo {E}

Jake wants to run his fingers through his beautiful hair, wants to reach out and touch him.

Instead, he says: “You were the first boy I ever liked,” without thinking. He can’t tear his eyes away from Bradley’s face. With the dim moonlight coming through the large window, his features are soft, his eyes bright.

“Seresin, you need to go to sleep,” Bradley says, not meeting his gaze.

“Back at the academy. I thought… I dunno…I think I might have loved you then.”

"Goodnight, Hangman."

- in which jake needs a date to his brother's wedding and bradley is willing. what could go wrong? plus, throw in jake's toxic ex-girlfriend, his repressed sexuality, and his and bradley's shared history.

Icy Heart (Warm Me Up) by VarjoRuusu {M}

They booked this vacation almost a year ago, and Bradley will be damned if he misses it, but when he pulls up to the remote cabin high in the Sierra's...Jake is there.

Eight months after they break up, Bradley and Jake both go to the cabin they booked together, not expecting that the other will turn up. Cue fighting, blizzards, talking, making up, near hypothermia, sharing a bed, make up sex, cute fluffy nonsense, and getting back together.

I Didn't Sign Up for This by WWISA {G}

When Phoenix was at work, she had to deal with a competitive Hangman; when she was off the clock, she had to be a relationship therapist for her friend who’s head-over-heels. It’s just she never brought up Hangman’s name, and coincidently, Rooster never thought of telling her what his boyfriend’s last name or his job was.

share the same space for a minute or two by heroic_pants {E}

He notices a guy standing against the wall of the admin building looking down at his phone, maybe waiting for someone. One of their class probably, judging by his khaki naval uniform, and the way he holds himself. He’s tall – though Bradley thinks he’d probably be taller, just by a little – and he looks like a naval Ken Doll, handsome in a real Kennedy-wealthy way, blonde hair neatly cut and combed back. He looks like a jock in a teen movie, ready to go beat up some nerds. Bradley knows the type, through high school, college, and definitely the academy. All cocky hotshots with an ego the size of the Sun.

Bradley doesn’t expect the guy to look up and meet his eyes.

The guy half-smiles, kind of a smirk but it doesn’t feel mocking, it kind of warms his whole face bringing out his dimples – and Bradley is too caught off guard to do anything but look through his Dad’s old aviators before they’ve passed him by anyway.

*** Rooster and Hangman get to Top Gun in 2008, the first time, and an intense rivalry develops into something else that echoes back when they return eight years later...

The Ink On Our Hearts by trinipedia {T}

Bradley has waited all his life to meet his soulmate, who has been there for him during the worst and the best moments, but he'd have never expected where that person was going to come from. Jake knew his soulmate was going to be worth all the heartache he had to suffer. Now, if only he could find them.

OR: When you turn eight, you get connected with your soulmate, and everything you draw on your skin appears on theirs, as long as it's not words.

Romance Is Not Dead If You Keep It Just Yours by somebodytoundress {T}

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw drops his gear bag onto the bench in the locker room the moment he sees the worst person he has ever met pulling a t-shirt over his (stupidly well-sculpted) chest. The last name Seresin is in bold letters on the back and the LAFD symbol is prominent across the left breast and Bradley can’t believe his eyes.

“Oh, this is fucking Christmas morning,” Hangman’s arrogance leaks through his voice once he gets his shirt on and can see just who is greeting him. “Good to see you, Roo, been a while. You look good.”

Or, Jake "Hangman" Seresin happens to transfer to Rooster's station years after they graduated the academy together.

darling, i ain't even worried by heir2slytherin {_}

Jake Seresin did not get jealous. He didn’t have to. He was completely secure in himself, thank you very much. He knew that he was the best there was, in every aspect. He knew that nobody could even compare to him. He knew that no matter how many dates Rooster, no matter how many drinks he accepted at the bar, they were always going to end up together. Of course, he was sure of himself, but the one true thing he knew for absolute damn sure was that he and Rooster were always going to be the ones to walk into the sunset together. He didn’t need to get jealous. That was no point.

... Or, Rooster keeps going out with people who will never be as good as Hangman, and it is most certainly not killing Hangman from the inside.

hey wouldn't you know (i'd get hooked on a guy with green diamond eyes) by tearsricochets

I was cool with hangin around (now i got plans bigger than this town) {T}

He doesn't mean to just stop mid-sentence, but really he doesn’t have any control of it. The one player he hadn’t caught the name of, Han, has just turned around. He’s mid laugh as he walks towards a huge blue cooler set up next to someone’s truck, and he’s probably the most beautiful person Bradley’s ever seen.

He’s got blonde hair that looks like it was styled when he’d first got here, but a few too many runs of the hand through it have knocked a few pieces onto his forehead. He’s wearing a simple gray colored henley under the letterman, paired with jeans that fit perfectly in all the right places and an honest-to-God pair of worn looking cowboy boots.

The smile that’s still on his face is only spurring on Bradley’s struggle. It lights up his entire face, the light of the fire making his already tan skin even more of a perfect golden.

He watches as the angel incarnate walks back to the others. Then, almost in slow motion, uses his now free hand to pick up the black cowboy hat that is hanging on the back of his chair.

Good god, that should be illegal.

OR: the summer they meet, fall in love, and have to figure out what to do with it.

let the moonshine through (kissing you like yesterday) {T}

Fuck. His heart stops.

His dreams, because he’s here. He’s here in Bradley’s immediate eyeline and reach. He’s positively radiant. Glowing. The golden sun spills in through the window and washes him in hues not unlike those of a fire ages ago. His hair is still the same golden blond Bradley remembers it as, once again a halo on his perfect head. He’s filled out much more than he was when they were teenagers. His short sleeve shirt, that reads Langwood Fire, looks sinfully tight on his biceps.

His nightmares, because he looks happy. Happy like he doesn't regret for one second leaving Bradley behind.

Bradley wants to laugh. Bradley wants to cry.

More than anything, he wants to hug him. Wants to call him Angel and have Jake smile that little smile he only does when Bradley calls him that. Wants him to kiss him like it’s nothing and they’re still who they used to be.

But they’re not, and the look on Jake’s face is enough to make him remember that forever.

OR: the one in which it's the summer they meet again.

this side of paradise by lesbiseresin {E}

“I don’t know if I should–”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Natasha asks, completely matter-of-fact. It’s like she’s already got a read on his bullshit, which is both endearing and unnerving, because Bradley isn’t really all that used to people not letting him run away from his problems. Or in this case, a perfectly good chance to spend some time with his friends. “Most of us flew that mission. We were all trained to. We’re in this together. Only reason Bob’s not coming is because his mom would kill him if he didn’t come home for his grandma’s birthday.”

Bradley runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, but eventually can’t stop himself from asking— “What about Hangman?”

(alternatively: seven thirty-something year olds holing up in a rich person’s vacation home for ten days ft. bradley trying to convince himself the crush he has on hangman is something he can easily get rid of)

restless in my mind dies out when you're right here by spiritsontheroof {T}

Jake drops his phone to his side and looks to Javy, who's gleaming at the prospect of Sarah Seresin’s cooking and a week or so on the ranch. “My mother is insisting I invite you all to Texas. Feel free to decline.”

-- Or, Jake takes the Daggers home to the family.

Love and heartbreak walk a thin line by glitterfayy {E}

Knowing you have a soulmate, a romantic soulmate, and wanting to know them were two different things, and Bradley was sure of one thing. Knowing only ended in heartache.

Mav wonders if he's always destined be left behind.

OR Soulmate AU when you turn 18 you get a compass that leads you to your soulmate. A story in 2 parts. First part covers Mav. Second Bradley and Jake.

takin' my heart out (of its zone of comfort) by tearsricochets {T}

Javy, who is still holding on to Bradley like they’re best friends, shakes his head. “Sorry, boss man, I walked all over set. This Tanner dude just isn’t here.”

Who the fuck is Tanner? He tries to convey this question to Javy with his eyes, but the actor is not paying a lick of attention to him. He’s looking at the man in front of them, who is instead looking at Bradley like the brunette is the sole cause of every problem in his life right now. “Then who the hell is this guy?”

As of finally noticing their boss was no longer pacing in front of them, or that he was suddenly getting louder in tone, Natasha and her friend look up at the new additions of their group. Bradley pretends not to notice the blonde taking an appreciative look at him, but he’s a simple man and absolutely preening under the attention.

“This is Bradley,” he gives a meek way to the man burning holes in his head. “And he’s going to fill in as my other half today.”

“Excuse me?” He’s going to what?

OR: the one in which Bradley is not an actor, but he is going to film a music video for the hot singer

You Are My Treasure by hangmanbradshaw

History's Like Gravity, It Holds You Down Away From Me {E}

“That’s too much thinking for you, obviously. You should leave that to the professionals. Don’t want to hurt yourself.”

This time Bradley let out a laugh. Jake had missed that sound.

“I don’t see any professionals around here, do you?”

“You wound me, Bradley.”

“Sorry, princess.” Bradley didn’t look sorry at all.

“Just don’t come crying to me when you get lost in the tomb and can’t read the hieroglyphics that say this way to the exit.”

“I’m not worried. I don’t plan on leaving your side, problem solved.”

“I will leave you behind.”

“You would never. Plus, someone’s gotta talk you out of leaving society for good and moving into the ancient burial grounds to live amongst your favorite mummies and old ass relics, like some modern day form of an Egyptian hobbit hole.”

Jake stopped. “You know, that’s a valid point. Weird ass way to put it, but valid.”

Bradley grinned. “What can I say, I know you.”

Jake was starting to realize just how accurate that statement was.

You Can Make My Wish Come True, If You Let Me Treasure You {E}

“Jake…you know you’re my family right? If we do this, we do it together. It’s not a Bradshaw only thing.”

The man blinked at him and then smiled softly. “Okay. You’re my family too so if you’re doing this, I’m riding shotgun.”

Bradley nodded and grinned brightly. “Think we’ll have to fight off any zombie founding fathers brought back to life?”

“I’m putting $5 on at least two. I call dibs on fighting off Franklin though.”

Or,

Or, The one where, fresh off their mummy adventure, Jake and Bradley steal the Declaration of Independence, make way too many mummy related jokes, and get married, all with a little help from their friends.

They Call Me Mr. Fantastic by Anonymous {E}

Shameless Fantastic Four au with Jake as Johnny and Bradley as Reed.

etymology of a soul by writteninwaves {T}

etymology

n. the study of the origin of words, how they got their meanings and how they change over time

a study of souls, soulmates, friends you choose, family you find & all the ways souls can feel sorrow, break, and mend themselves back again.

Bradley Bradshaw has two soulmates, one platonic and one romantic. However, it isn't that easy to find your loved ones when you have loss and grief following you everywhere.

Based on & Inspired by Comin2U's Fic "You'd Say I Love You and How Proud", where Natasha is IceMav's long lost daughter.

Draw Me Verse by BlankPapyrus

Draw Me {E}

As an engineering major, Bradley Bradshaw had no idea why he needed an art credit, but Professor Bates' Introduction to Life Drawing course had been the only one with slots available that fit into his schedule. He also didn't expect Jake Seresin to be this week's model. College/University AU.

Athletes and Mathletes {E}

Jake hasn't seen Bradley since they hooked up. He's used to getting what he wants, and Bradshaw is not good for his ego or his temper. Luckily, they're both at Reuben's birthday party. College/University AU.

Can we lay down, lay down together? by xo_em {T}

Bradley (accidentally) hires a professional cuddler for (on) Valentine’s Day.

Seven Horses Seem To Be On The Mark by themodernmerlin {T}

Hangman and the rest of the special detachment want to know more details about why exactly Rooster had such an issue with Maverick.

wish I knew how to hold you by Ravens_Words {T}

Bradley bullies Jake's flight information out of Javy, and it's much easier than he thought it would be. Probably because he doesn't want his best friend to be alone.

"Bradshaw," Javy says before he hangs up, "you- I know he doesn't make it easy, but take care of him, will you?"

He hesitates, takes a deep breath, "sure."

For the first time, he wonders if he made a mistake, bit off more than he can chew.

Jake goes back home, Bradley goes with him. It goes about as well as one can expect.

Bad Ideas! by LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade

Bad Idea! {T}

Bradley: Hey, are you and Ice around?

Well, this is slightly odd Mav thought but he replied anyway.

Yeah, why?

Bradley: We have our baby! We’ll be there in 10.

Mav almost dropped his phone at the reply. What the fuck.

Bradley Bradshaw, you better call me this instant.

Even worse idea! {T}

“Bradley, Ice just texted me to come to “hang out”, is this a threat?” “Jake you’ve known him for almost five years now, it is definitely just Ice wanting you to do some work around the house.” “Okay but-” “Baby, this exact conversation happened last week, you know Ice is so different at home than he is at work.” “But is he?” “Jake, please,” “Okay yeah, I’ll go over.”

Fully Engulfed 'verse by theinsouciantknitter

Fully Engulfed {E}

Jake has been a 911 dispatcher for six years - he's good at his job and he's good at life. He has one rule: he doesn't date responders. That all goes up in flames when new firefighter Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw arrives on scene. Jake just hopes he makes it out without getting burned.

Who Ya Gonna Call? {E}

It’s not so much that Jake lost a bet. He did lose it, spectacularly. It’s just less that he lost and more that he threw the game, because the idea that’s been planted in his head is just too sweet to ignore.

or... Jake dresses up as a cop for Halloween

I was enchanted to meet you (please don't be in love with someone else) by starryinspace {G}

“Your date bailed? On Valentine's Day?”

Jake flashes Bradley a toothy grin but there’s no warmth behind it. “Broke up with me, actually. Five minutes ago.”

“Shit.”

- or jake gets dumped on valentine's day & bradley comes to the rescue.

I still don't know how to be yours by alecjbi {T}

in which jake is drunk, bradley misreads a situation, and feelings are confessed.

Take Me Home Tonight by Jeston17 {E}

“You’re not a pilot, are you?” Jake asks.

Bradley shakes his head, “No, I’m actually an aerospace engineer, but I work for the Navy at North Island. It’s how I know Natasha.”

“I figured you weren’t a pilot,” Jake says, “I would have met you before, and I don’t think I could forget a face like that.”

Jake gives him a suggestive look, and Bradley realizes he’s flirting. His heart jumps at the idea, and he feels the blood rush to his face. “Is it because of the mustache?” Bradley asks, trying to play it cool.

“Not just,” Jake winks.

Or: AU where Bradley is an aerospace engineer who is getting back into the dating scene after a breakup. He meets Jake at a bar with Phoenix, and the sparks start flying.

love is holdin’ back by thegeckbros {T}

“Because I want to dance. And you’re my boyfriend,” Bradley adds, just to see Jake scowl.

“Not your boyfriend,” Jake grumbles.

Or a dtr conversation

Thunder in Their Hearts And Chaos in Their Bones by WWISA {G}

Jake picked up a sharpie, scribbled the words, and extended his wrist to his uncle, “I don’t think it’s that difficult. See? I came for you.” But Jake never knew the name of uncle Ted’s soulmate who never showed up. Just another lost Seresin soul, buried alone in the ground. Handing over all himself but was still left alone. He refused to have an ending like that.

Man of his own invention by trinipedia {T}

Jake is an enticing young man with blonde hair 70 feet long, who has been kept in a tower his entire life by his seemingly overprotective mother. Everything changes the day that Rooster the thief, by chance, scales the tower and stumbles upon him; Jake strikes a deal with Rooster so that the charming thief takes him to the place where the floating lights he has seen every year on his birthday come from. Jake is about to discover the world for the first time, and in the process, he might even find out who he really is...and what he really wants.

if it's right, you know by spiritsontheroof {G}

Bradley never saw himself as the kind of guy who settles down.

Not because he never wanted to, but in his line of work, it’s hard to get serious with someone he barely sees or find anyone who appreciates his love of flying and doesn’t see it as a liability.

Standing at the bar in the Hard Deck two days after the mission, he meets Elizabeth.

OR the speak now fic that nobody asked for

(Do You) Share My Affection by aprilfoolish {M}

Bradley and Jake end up on a date with each other through an anonymous dating app (because they are just a little bit idiots about each other). The date is the wakeup call they needed.

I should be scared, honey, maybe so by yourstrulytay {T}

It’s several nights into their new sleeping arrangements that Bradley jolts out of sleep, heart pounding, and for a second, he can’t figure out what’s woken him. The room is filled with silence as he looks around, trying to spot something that may be out of place. He’s confused until a sound emanates from the bunk next to his. It’s a soft keening sound and Bradley’s heart twists to hear the pain laced through the drawn-out noise. It’s the next sound that has Bradley stopping cold, head whipping around to look at the man inhabiting the other bed. It’s mumbled, but undeniable. “Rooster- Bradley, no-!”

signed, sealed, delivered (i'm yours) by yourstrulytay {T}

Jake’s shirtless but he still has his dog-tags on, and the way he’s leaning on the counter or table or whatever makes the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunch up. Bradley’s mouth goes a little dry at the miles (and miles and miles) of bare skin that are being presented to him and he bites his tongue to prevent any sound from escaping.

It had been precisely this that had made him panic and hang up before, because what the fuck?

aka, the social media au that no one asked for

If Love is Worth it (And it Always Will Be) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

Hangman…had a problem.

He might, just maybe, have been terribly in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

Trying to see if Rooster reciprocated any of those feelings, though?

Oh boy. Disasters all around. Jake would rather there be an easier and less painful way to do this.

it was only ever you by haridwar {E}

Different lives, different faces, different names and identities.

Centuries of chasing.

Those eyes, that soul, still inexplicably the same.

It was both a blessing and a curse that Jake was the one forever burdened to remember first.

or: soulmates au where they reunite once they've recovered memories from their past lives

Sliding Series by Barnes_Brain

Parts 1-6 are the original Sliding Into Home {E} {G} {T}

Part 7 is an Alternate Universe Where Bradley is a reliever and Jake is his catcher {E}

(OP Note > AKA B⁴ au/ ⚾au)

still got that old time feeling by haridwar {E}

This was where Bradley’s head had been stuck for the entirety of his trip home. Flying in to San Diego from overseas had given him ample opportunity to overthink. Not about his impromptu homecoming though, or the fact that he would be stopping by his childhood home for the first time in well over a decade, or what it would be like to retrace his steps through Top Gun again like the first time around wasn’t difficult enough. No. His mind was stuck inexplicably upon Jake goddamn Seresin, and his goddamn stupid handsome face, and the fact that he still had way too many feelings for a guy who had walked out on him without so much as a backward glance.

Or: yet another retelling of TG:M which covers some of the hangster subtext Tom Cruise neglected to include in his movie

The Best the Galaxy has to offer by AnadoraBlack {M}

To vanquish the Empire and hopefully put an end to the War, the best X-wings pilots in the Galaxy are called to the mother ship Top Gun.

Among them, Bradley Bradshaw, who has a lot to learn and a lot to face; but also a squadron of former Stormtroopers…

[Star Wars AU]

In The Next Life by Barnes_Brain {E}

In 1972, Jake Seresin, a 30 year old Blue Angel, meets 26 year old Bradley Bradshaw, only son of the Governor of California. Jake thinks he’s a stuck up rich kid. The fact he’s attractive despite that hippie moustache, and snarky personality plays absolutely no bearing on his decision to risk his career, his life, his heart on this man he just met. Absolutely none. After feelings bloom and time grows short, Bradley reveals his biggest secret.

Glioblastoma’s median survival time is 9 months from diagnosis to death. Some live longer, most live shorter, and Bradley’s known for three months. And as they fall Bradley gives Jake something he never thought he’d experience. True love.

People always say that those who die young never have enough time, but maybe it’s how you use it instead?

Hot Nerds by AnadoraBlack {T}

Jake forces Javy to attend a convention dressed as Star Wars characters. He knows it's gonna be a good day, but he had no idea how good...

Carry You by Barnes_Brain {M}

Hangman never had a chance to save Maverick and Rooster from the enemy fighter, Maverick never had the chance to become an ace, and Rooster never had the chance to fly in the back seat of an F-14. For the past three months Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw had been missing in action along with his godfather Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.

But when Jake “Hangman” Seresin is providing air cover during a mission he hears a phrase he’d only ever dreamed about. “We need medevac. We’ve found a POW Dog Tags read Bradshaw.”

This is not a story about death, but a story about life, and how to overcome the nightmare of living with trauma.

Hangman's Good Plan by xihe1874 {G}

Jake tries his best to square his shoulders under Kazansky’s sharp gaze. “I want to ask for your permission to date Rooster.”

Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Barnes_Brain

Don’t You (Forget About Me) {M}

When Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was 14 his mother passed away, leaving him an orphan in an ever changing world. With no other family, and Maverick halfway across the world, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky took over as primary guardian. Through hard work and extreme perseverance Bradley reached Top Gun at age 27, even with Maverick pulling his papers. Take that asshole.

But now that he’s at Top Gun he’s going to find if he has what it takes to be one of the best pilots in the world. That includes learning how to work with a team he doesn’t know, and doesn’t know if he can trust. Especially his obnoxious roommate who he can’t help but stare at. If only he could shut up.

The roommates AU that no one asked for? But are getting anyway.

Every Beat of My Heart {M}

When Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was 14 his mother passed away, leaving him an orphan in an ever changing world. With no other family, and Maverick halfway across the world, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky took over as primary guardian. Bradley didn’t mean to fall in love at 27 in the middle of Top Gun, but he wouldn’t change anything about it.

Now both of them have been recalled to Top Gun for a mission that sounds impossible. When Maverick shows up, Bradley’s fighting between doing everything he can to not get washed out, and the uncontrollable rage he has for his godfather, while Jake’s trying to keep his promise to Ice.

Part 2 in the Don’t You (Forget About Me) universe: AKA the sequel everyone wanted, and are getting.

I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland by hangmanbradshaw {E}

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” He said as Bradley, confusingly, looked even more devastated.

The pain washed over him again, and he started to stumble. The blood loss was definitely starting to make itself known. That spurred Bradley into motion. He seemed to snap out of whatever daze he’d been in, and he stepped forward, grabbing Jake and holding him up. “Shit. Get Halo, now!”

Jake felt himself starting to lose consciousness. As he succumbed to the blackness, he heard a soft voice saying “stay with me, Jake” and then he was out.

Or the Rival Princes AU

The Christmas Bob outdid himself by AnadoraBlack {M}

Bob organizes a Secret Santa among the squad. Jake's nervous, because he's never had to gift anyone anything before. He's even more scared when faced with the gifts he receives. He shouldn't be either of those things...

You Are the Answer by Happy_Days19 {M}

Bradley Bradshaw doesn't know what is happening, but he's never felt like this about someone before. Why is he feeling like this, and why couldn't it have happened at a better time?

Or, the Floyd Ranch is under new ownership, and Bradley has a lot on his plate as he tries to adapt to changes at work, a best friend who won't stop pestering him about the crush he totally doesn't have, and Jake, the completely infuriating son of the next door ranch's owner.

Happy Father's Day, Mav! by AnadoraBlack {T}

The squad decides to offer something to Mav for Father's Day. What Rooster hasn't anticipated is that this would turn into a game of 'whose gift is better'...

its all fair in love and chess by miraculousmultifan {T}

“Seriously, Bagman, how the fuck are you doing this? There’s no way you’re actually playing fairly.”

Hangman was practically giddy with how stumped Rooster was. His smirk widened until it was beginning to look sharp around the edges. He twirled the toothpick between his teeth before purring, “My, my, my, Bradshaw. What kind of guy do you take me for? I’ll have you know that I would never cheat at chess. I don’t even know how!”

*** Penny invests in a couple of chess sets for the bar once she sees how much the squadron love beating each other in games. How could she have known that it would turn into a nightly battle between Hangman and Rooster?

Sell It by Renai_chan {T}

There are some fights you just can't fly your way out of. Sometimes you need a wingman to help you.

When Jake gets hit on by a girl he can't turn down, Bradley comes to his rescue.

loose lips sink ships all the damn time by hangmanbradshaw {E}

“Wait, is this the Dagger?”

That stopped Rooster in his tracks. He looked over curiously from where he was unwrapping a rope. “You’ve heard of it?”

“You guys are…you’re…”

Rooster dropped the rope and walked over, a challenge clear in his eyes. “We’re what? Go ahead, say it.”

Jake breathed out, “Pirates.”

Rooster took another step followed by another. Each step was calculated. He stopped a foot or two away. Jake hated the fact that he had to look up into his eyes, not by much, but still. “We prefer the term vigilantes.”

Or The Princes & Pirates AU

Forever by Renai_chan

Is Forever Enough {T}

Jake is shot down on a mission, and Bradley keeps vigil at his bedside until Jake's family fly in from Texas to visit him. There, Bradley meets Jake's parents, his sister...

...and his daughter.

He was already half in love with his wingman. She sent him head over heels.

Forever and a Day {T}

A collection of drabbles exploring Bradley's relationship with Jake and his daughter.

To Save a Horse {E}

Jake and Bradley spend some time in Texas on the Seresin farm with Elise. They find a bit of time in the afternoon for themselves and enjoy... erm, the outdoors together.

All Around the World is Sleeping {E}

It's Christmas morning, and Bradley's feeling a bit frisky, despite Jake's firm insistence that it's five am, Bradley. Like, why?

He's My Sugar Cookie Kind of Sweetness {T}

Jake and Elise bake cookies and turn their kitchen into a huge mess. Luckily, Bradley is there to help them clean up after.

I Gave You My Heart {G}

Jake gives Bradley a present.

With Teeth and Claws (Love Drags me Deep) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

Rooster hadn’t exactly asked for Hangman to keep bugging him about his Modified form. He really hadn’t.

…He actively avoided it, if he was honest.

But now that wasn’t an option, and he was facing the consequences. On the bright side, Hangman seemed just as surprised as he had been - since he had never seen Hangman’s form, either.

Four Letter Word That I Don't Have the Guts to Say by Earthangel_44 {M}

Bradley doesn't talk much. But what he does say is never what he means.

The story of how Bradley gets tattoos and learns to love.

Four Letter Word That I Don't Have the Guts to Say [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics

The mandatory 5+1 fic by AnadoraBlack {M}

5 times Rooster thinks there might be something between him and Hangman; and 1 time he knows for sure.

The mandatory 5+1 fic [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)

Crossing the Drift by ReformedTsundere {T}

How do you rationalize that the end of the world has been canceled?

Bradley manages one breath at a time.

Live Until We Die by Renai_chan

Speak Softly, Love {E}

Jake leaves behind his crappy life in Texas and moves to California. There, he meets Bradley, a gorgeous man who works at a charity helping the homeless. They fall in love, and everything is sunshine and rainbows until he learns that Bradley is, in fact, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, heir to the empire of his godfather, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, who rules the underbelly of Los Angeles with ice-cold ruthlessness. Suddenly, Jake find himself embroiled in the dangers of the LA Mafia.

Live Until We Die: Outtakes {E}

A compilation of one-shots and drabbles of the Mafia AU.

Along the Razor's Edge {E}

Jake's father makes contact after more than a year when the family farm goes into foreclosure, and Jake is torn between helping save his childhood home and leaving his father to his fate. Bradley steps in, but his plan to help Jake isn't received well by Jake's father, and Jake finds himself caught between his new family and his own flesh and blood.

Misunderstanding by lovelybattle {E}

“Who’s Jake?” Fanboy asks, digging into his food.

Bradley stares at him, his blood running cold, he heard. Payback snickers next to him and either he’d also heard or Fanboy had told him. Bradley desperately tries to turn his brain back online. He blurts out the first thing he can think of. “My boyfriend.”

Or: Bradley finds himself in a bit of a predicament when he lies about having a boyfriend named "Jake."

#hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #hangman x rooster #hangster fic recs #hangster recs list 1 #I need a shorter version because I have way too many bookmarks on AO3 #I appreciate the work of the Hangster's fan artists and authors #Thank you for feeding the obsession of so many...myself very much included!#love and appreciation #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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