#ANGST FUCK DAMN

[m1d-45]

the scottish play

summary: some things are better left unknown.

word count: ~3.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue story quest, reader dies (again). blood mention. zhongli probably cries off camera

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @atsukawolfcat || @thehoneymushroomhealer || @imyme20 || @bittersweetorpheus || @vampirecatsw || @willburzone || @some-mildly-happy-human || @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy || @inmyprinceerafr || @depressed-bitchy-demon || @kithewanderingme

<< first part || < masterlist >

you should have known better than to trust liyue.

a rock hits your shoulder, kicked down from the ledge behind you, and the abyss mage in front of you shouts a cry lost amidst the hilichurls’-

“YA!“

clubs are grabbed and shields are raised, the electro shooter taking your wrist roughly and pulling you away. you hear human voices behind you, calls to get them! and that’s the missing artifact! nearly drowned under your heartbeat in your ears. the electro hilichurl pushes you behind the grenadier before grabbing its crossbow, hastily beginning to load it. in the camp, you can see an archer up on the stone ledge—the same one you entered from—as well as four other millelith guards in the camp itself. an electro-infused bolt skims the cheek of one, a spear narrowly blocking the swing of a club, two have to ditch their weapons and roll to dodge to mitachurl’s charge-

the grenadier’s calloused hands pull you out of the way of an arrow, one that lands in the sand and quivers with force. the hilichurl pushes you away, waving its hands for you to run.

if you’d have paid more attention to the fight, you’d have noticed the hilichurls were fighting defensively to give you time.

you turn on worn, hole-ridden shoes, doing your best to take in air as you run down the path. this area of liyue is sparse, with no weaving pathways to hide in or trees to cover you. there’s nothing for the earth to shelter you with, and other than bringing more dust into the air around the archer, it’s just as helpless as you are.

there’s a building set besides a crack in the huge wall besides the path, a fork approaching quicker than you’d like. the path continues forward, toward trees, but it’s a long way to the small forest..

you turn. an arrow bounces off the stone just behind you as you do.

immediately you recognize your mistake, spotting first spiked walls, then rippling red banners, then the archer towers they’re attached to and the guards climbing down the ladders on them.

the crack you saw seems to open into a larger area, with trees you’ve never seen before, so you take the risk that the millelith can’t climb all that quickly with their armor and keep running. it’s not like you would have survived turning back anyways; they’re the ones with the archer towers.

a guard makes it to the ground just as you pass, throwing aside his spear and running after you. an arm loops around your waist, then another over your arms as you fall.

the weight of the guard on top of you knocks out the air from your lungs, leaving you dazed. he quickly gets off and pulls at the arm with the ring on it as you desperately try not to breathe in dirt.

you fuss, trying first to close your hand into a fist then hitting at his with your other. it works, the ring falling to the dirt, and though you try to follow it with your eyes you quickly lose it in the light of the sun.

the guard starts to wipe desperately at the dirt and you take the opportunity to run into the crack, pulling a random bundle of things you hope are medical supplies off a nearby cart as you do. the guards shout at you, but you keep running, taking a set of confusing turns before coming across a small campsite. there are tents and rudimentary walls, but you decide to shove yourself into the space between a stack of crates and a wall, holding your breath.

footsteps thunder by, slowing to a stop not too far from where you’re hidden. you clutch at and attempt to cover the white in your arms, turning it towards the wall as far as you can without moving the crates. you don’t dare move to peek between the boxes, simply sitting in your little corner and hoping beyond reason that they won’t think to search in the most obvious area.

“what?”

“where’d they go?”

“find them!”

your heart thuds in your chest and you have to fight to keep your breathing quiet, pressing yourself further against the wall as the guards search the small camp.

the floor tips and spins beneath you, the world blurry and hazed from dehydration and exhaustion, but you stay hidden as boots stomp by again, listening to the irritated words from one of the guards as they pass.

“we must report this to the qixing.”

zhongli walks through liyue harbor, one hand holding a folder and the other one clenched in a fist. he can feel the stares of people as he passes, the new whispers on their tongues, and he sets his jaw, picking up the pace.

he’s used to the stares. people pointed him out as odd, eccentric, the funeral consultant that everybody knew yet didn’t know why, or where he was from. the stranger that somehow knew alarming amounts of liyuen history, the new worker at the parlor who puts up with the director, the one with a vision from liyue yet seems adept at using it nonetheless.

stares are regular, until they’re not.

the empty space on his lower back where his faux-vision once was affects him more than it should. maybe because it feels like a real one, now, since he hasn’t been able to manipulate geo ever since it turned against him. the lack of pressure, the missing weight of glass and gold, no matter how papery the front it put up, bothered him. it wasn’t real in any sense, it was utterly worthless, it didn’t glow or have any connection at all, and yet.. it still refused to obey him. touching it felt like he was cutting his palm open over and over despite the lack of physical injuries, and when he tried to have hu tao reattach it to (a new) chain, it only stabbed at him through his clothes.

it was fake. it shouldn’t be possible.

but he couldn’t tell anybody of his plight.

nodding a greeting at the blacksmith, he continued his journey across the harbor.

“-consultant for-?”

“-where’s his-?“

“-did his vision-?”

questions flew in the space between people, gossip lighting the way between lampposts. he knew they were watching. he didn’t know why it unnerved him so much.

zhongli kept walking.

two millelith guards are standing duty near the bridge, and he listens in on their conversation as he passes.

“-hear any updates on the situation?”

“no, only that they’ve gotten to the chasm. it’s to dangerous for the qixing to send-..”

hm..

he files the information away.

zhongli openes the door to the parlor, nodding in greeting at ferrylady. perhaps he should pay the chasm a visit on the chance that the guards were speaking of what he hoped they were.

you wouldn’t be too much of a challenge—he is still, after all, morax, the god of war and contracts. he’d signed on the dotted line when he took his first breath, signed to be the warrior of his god and to stand by their side for as long as he lived. it was a deal he could easily uphold, and one he’s not going to fail.

he’s served his god all his life, and he refuses to allow such disgrace to befall their name.

perhaps if he’s lucky, he’ll be the one allowed to slay you…

he shakes the thoughts of bloodshed from his mind, knocking twice on a door marked ‘director’. when he hears permission to enter, he wastes no time in pushing it open.

hu tao’s eyes brighten when she see’s it’s him, the pen in her hand twirling around her fingers in her excitement. “zhongli! you’re back quickly.”

he nods, stepping forward to hand her the folder. “the negotiations went easier than anticipated.”

her eyes suddenly narrow, hee hand retracting from the folder. “did you say what i told you to?”

“yes, director, i kept the price within the range you specified. i was simply commenting on the simplicity of the transaction; who knew it was so easy to-“

the air shifts, a presence materializing from a cloud of black and teal smoke at zhongli’s side. hu tao yelps, her chair skidding backward.

xiao catches the pen she throws at him with ease.

zhongli pulls it from his hand, the director having finally registered what happened.

“wha- who- you? y- you can’t just appear in my office like that!”

xiao paid her no mind, turning to zhongli and bowing, the latter easily dismissing the action.

“what news do you have?”

“i have scoured all of liyue and have yet to find a trace. in addition, b-… venti has not felt their presence upon the wind, and considering the tightening of security around the harbor thanks to the millelith, i can only assume they have either gone to sumeru through nantianmen or lumberpick valley, or they are in the chasm.”

the words of the millelith from earlier echoed in zhongli’s mind, a plan swiftly forming.

“i see. thank you, xiao. i will leave at once.”

with a nod, the adeptus vanishes back into a cloud of smoke.

“zhongli? who was that? and where are you going? who were you talking about?”

zhongli set the folder on her desk, the pen placed on top. “all in due time, ms. hu. until then, i’m afraid i must depart.”

“you can’t-“

“i promise that appropriate compensation for my leaving early will be arranged, and we may speak on the topic when i return.”

“‘li-“

“goodbye, director.”

black and gold fabric twisted around him as he turned, the empty chain across his back glinting in the light of the office. while he had some regret about leaving so harshly—he’d surely receive a rant about reliance when he returned—it was quickly drowned under his determination.

his god was calling, and all he’d ever wished for was to answer.

you stumble into a tunnel next to a blue waypoint, walking in as far as you can manage before crumbling to the floor. you have to go. to hide. you don’t know how many ‘lives’ you have left, and you’re not keen on finding out, not with the qixing on your tail.

you drag yourself next to a shining chunk of cor lapis, gritting your teeth at the pain.

how did it come to this?

to running from the millelith, hiding in the chasm of all places?

you breathe heavily as you sit against the wall, the sudden shift from relaxation to running for your life taking a toll. you put your hands on the floor to shuffle further against the wall only to wince, moving your palm to see what sharp rock you’d landed on.

except it wasn’t a rock. the ring, the one the dendro slime gave you, is sitting peacefully on top of the dirt like it belongs there. still clean, still shining, the gem without a scratch you can see as you lift it up. the tunnel is only lit by sun streaming in from around the corner, and though it makes it hard to see imperfections on the gold, the light only highlights the wear on your figure. your clothes are tattered and worn, reduced to scraps, that ring the only thing of passable quality. how ironic, that the thing in best condition was the one you never should have taken—where would hilichurls even get them? did you think about it at all?—and the one that almost got you killed.

again.

you couldn’t hold it against the millelith, really. you didn’t know where it came from or why. it didn’t look ancient to you, the gold still glimmering in the faint light, and the gem wasn’t large enough to be of any importance, but maybe it was. maybe it was some artifact that was really rare or highly sought after. maybe it was the dropped ring of some important ruler. maybe it was the wedding band of one of the workers here.

maybe you were just making excuses because you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them.

..wow, this is kinda pathetic.

you do your best to wrap your wounds with the bandages you swiped, mumbling a quick thank you that they were bandages, no matter how covered in dust from your journey. between your shaky hands and the severity of the wounds, though, you don’t know if you’re actually doing anything of benefit. not to mention you’re still lying on the floor, in a dusty tunnel in the chasm.

dirt and rocks dig into your skin and wounds, scabs breaking as you curl up further, too caught up in your pain to hear the footsteps approaching you.

or maybe you do hear them, and simply don’t care.

you never had the highest level of self-preservation.

zhongli has lived for eons.

he’s seen it all.

nothing surprises him anymore.

….nothing should.

but as he approaches the tunnel the millelith had told him of, as he walks and hears hitched breathing and choked words….

his knuckles are white around his polearm.

he turns the corner, stepping around a wooden support. dust stains the air as if trying to hide you from his view, but can still see. torn clothes, your hands wrapped in dirty bandages that are more likely to get them infected than protect, and you’re… you’re crying.

as he watches, you look up, matted hair falling into your face. you’re sitting next to a chunk of cor lapis, the ore looking like it’s glowing brighter than normal. in the golden light, he sees the tear tracks streak through the dirt on your face, and something like pity twinges in his chest.

something like a laugh leaves your cracked lips.

“morax…”

you knew?

you knew him?

how?

his posture tensed, but you only sat up straighter, leaning on the wall behind you. it was hard to tell if that was blood on the floor or just shadows cast by the ore nearby, but you were obviously weak.

you licked your lips. why hadn���t he moved yet?

“i don’t mind dying, you know. not if it’s you.”

you sounded weak, voice hoarse and painful, like your throat was lined with glass.

and yet… him?

why?

how did you even know him?

surely… surely you weren’t the same person as before, in wuwang hill, right? you weren’t the one who looked up at him with eyes that glittered not with tears but with admiration, your gaze sweeping over his face with such emotion. you weren’t the one that, even as he pointed his spear at your heart, dared to whisper a compliment?

…what did it matter? you… you deserved to be slain. he couldn’t be swayed simply because you looked like his god.

his hand almost didn’t want to obey as he leveled his polearm at your neck, noting the exhaustion with which you relaxed further into the stone. your eyes fluttered shut, your hand landing closer to the light of the ore. he could see a ring on one of your fingers: gold, archaic, likely stolen from a ruin nearby. how pitiful that an artifact would be ruined by you.

the golden point of his blade leveled against your skin, seeming to buzz with excitement in his hand.

he should make it quick.

in his hesitance, you spoke. “you want last words?”

to ask somebody on death row for the worst of crimes for last words would probably be itself a crime elsewhere. giving you the opportunity to take advantage of him while he was vulnerable—though he doubted you had the strength for that…

a small smile crossed your face.

he swallowed. his hand wavered.

“if you wish.”

why did you seem so familiar?

he was starting to shake.

it didn’t matter that you looked like his god. you were the imposter, you were the fake, but being here with you…

why was he hesitating?

this was a sin against his god, to allow such a devil to walk his nation. and to dare to feel sympathy for such a-

“i don’t mind if i die.”

but your voice-

you spoke so softly with his weapon pointed at your throat, every bob of your skin threatening to tear itself across its edge. and yet, you continued, leaving him no choice but to believe your statement.

“i don’t know why you want to kill me, but i don’t. really.”

in the golden light of the lapis and whatever extra was coming around the corner, your skin broke.

what were you saying?

why couldn’t he listen?

he was entranced by the bead of blood, almost shimmering in the light, rolling down your neck.

he had to kill you.

he had to.

why didn’t he want to?

“it’s a good day to die.”

that was a lie, the skies were gray and threatened rain, the earth itself irritated and rumbling with an anger you couldn’t sense. the only reason you said that was because you didn’t know.

he found himself believing it anyway.

“kill me, morax.” the way you said his name- “i’m… i’m sure your god would be proud.”

what did you know of his god?

in the instant anger overcame him, he pressed vortex vanquisher forward, pushing until he hit stone. you flinched, blood rolling down his weapon and falling into your lap in waves. to his surprise, it didn’t stain the blade dark with crimson, instead…

no.

he told himself it was the light.

no.

your eyes fluttered, struggling, and he compared the shade of the ring on your finger to the one on his weapon. even in the tinted lighting, they looked the same.

no.

it was impossible.

even as he tore his weapon away, a futile attempt to undo his actions, he knew it was impossible.

“kill me, morax.”

and he had, he had, and now he wanted nothing more than to take it back, dirt staining his knees as gloved hands fluttered over the wound as if it would magically stick back together.

“i’m sure your god would be proud.”

#shout out to the theat(re/er) kids that caught The Reference. i’m midas i think i’m cooler than i am and i’m new in town #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #sagau impostor au #sagau zhongli #sagau hu tao #zhongli #hu tao #i put. way too much symbolism and foreshadowing into my GENSHIN IMPACT FANFICTION #me staring at the subtle intricacies of my word choices: damn that’s good. i am proud of this and strive to forever improve. #me realizing nobody gives a fuck about the difference between ‘useless’ and ‘worthless’: oh no #aakidcnwkrkr FUCK i need better hobbies #sagau xiao #xiao #angst #zhongli angst

[ryuubff]

lesson 14 omnb spoilers (press read more to continue reading)

first of all. YAYYYY AFTER HOW MANY COMICS OF SLOW BURN AND DENIAL SOL FINALLY SAID I LOVE YOU AND THEY FINALLY KISSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (party poppers going off) (cheering) (screaming)

second. i made sol cry alot in this comic OJGAWOJGIFDH SORRY WELL i like to see my man be emotioanlly vunerable espeically after the lore drop teehee idek if the comic actually makes any sense now that i think about i t.

ANYWAY. i feel as though its impiled that solomon's friend dies/something horrible happens to them that causes sol to makle that promise to them and start having that ambition to protect humanity ... and so rather than in canon of how mc is a descendant of lilith, for peri they're more like. a reincarnation/reconstruction of his friend i guess it leans more into reincarnation since sol doesn't recognize peri or sees them as that person long ago but has that... sort of feeling ? the . i feel as though i miss you more than i can remember type of way . im fainlkly starting to build more on peri lore i rly need a reference sheet for them too but if anyoen want the mc lore just... drop an ask.............

this fucking monster of a comic is finally finished that took 3 days in total because this week has been so busy for me i had a headache that consumed an entire day heelpp im not goign to be drawing comics for a good while....................... its almost 5 am again . GOODNIGHT

#obey me spoilers #obey me #om! #solperi #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #obey me mc #obey me fanart #i draw skrunkly #THE ANGST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOING INSANE #also peri said i love you back off screen #LITERALLY BUSTED MY ASS DRAWING THIS FUCKING COMIC #ITS 12 PAGES LONG I SPENT TOO MCUH TIME REDNERING ON SOME PAGES. #LITEALLY DYING NO COMICS FOR ME FOR 23098352 YEARS #Thats a lie #i love solomon sooo much he deserves the whole entire world #cant believe he got locked up DAMN #maybe this comic doesnt make sense idk #i just wanted to darw solperi lol #Y SLRINKL;Y #MYYY SSRKRNUNKYL #whatever i cant spell im going to sleep

[specialgrades]

BRO,,,,, THE TRAILER FOR SHIBUYA ARC I,,,,, NANAMI'S BIG, VEINY HANDS,,,,,, I NEED HIM TO CHOKE ME OUT

HIS HANDS LOOK BIG ENOUGH THAT HE COULD LIKE GRAB ME AND PICK ME UP BY MY FACE WITH A SINGLE HAND OH MY GOD I NEED HIS FINGERS IN MY HOLES OH MY GOD

so nice of mappa to give us such pretty necklaces right??? cause got DAMN man puts thoughts in my head...

hate fuck with nanami. he finds you so annoying and so fucking pretty, it scrambles his brain every time he sees you. worst part? feeling's mutual. you fuck with him constantly, and half the time you're flirting with him which he acts like it annoys him. it doesn't. it riles him up and he has to bite back with a slight hitch in his voice.

it's one particular argument that it all boils over with. neither of you remember what it was about, now when nanami has you pinned to a wall by your throat. to anyone passing by he looks pissed, but they can't see the way his pupils are blown and how they can't stop flicking to your lips.

those big hands gripping yours behind your back while he absolutely ruins you from behind, calling you the most obscene names and calling you his. "my little slut, yeah? no comeback, hm? did i fuck the words right out of your filthy mouth?"

#💌 ; asks. #❤️‍🔥 ; fwends #he gags you with his tie OUGH #also choso looks SO good in the trailer... god damn. fuck. #kenjaku i hate you but god... geto... #mahito... god fuck. i've been neck deep in satosugu angst i completely forgot abt everyone else #i need all of them. at once? maybe. will i die? probably. die happy #anyway i'm not ready for this arc at all emotionally! but still YIPEE MORE JJK #kento nanami x male reader #🧋 ; thirsts. #❤️‍🔥 ; fwends : teyvat-writer.

[fandom-geek]

my god, people weren't joking when they said gortash is desperate to convince durge to ally with him. i genuinely think that cutscene was at least twice as long as it was compared to my tav playthrough.

also "make our pact anew" is fascinating. i wouldn't have thought divine oaths stop applying simply because one participant loses their memory, so i wonder how durge got away with killing ketheric. unless myrkul's intervention, in a durge run, is because of that?

#bg3 spoilers #enver gortash #the dark urge #baldur's gate #it's also genuinely agonising how immediately he dismisses karlach to hyperfocus on the durge #it's got very 'the adults are talking' vibes #big spoilers in the tags after this so ignore if you haven't played durge yet #my durge had heavily suspected they'd known him even before finding their old note at moonrise #but i don't think they would've mentioned it out of hopes that they were completely and utterly wrong #to the extent they went with the 'wait you knew us both' bc it would've been fucking damning to admit they had suspected it #and karlach's reaction afterwards to durge... my poor fucking heart #and now i'm tempted to go full masochist and do a durge run romancing her just for the extra angst

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

i'm a little sad at how sparse steddyhands and stizzy art and writing is on here now after the finale (thankfully, i am still digging through the couple thousand fics up on ao3 so i'm not totally bereft)

because during the airing of the season there was new stuff in the tags every day, sometimes even every few hours, but i think the finale really punched all of us in the face

there's lots of good stuff from before s2 to go digging through of course, and ao3 and twitter still have some new art and fic and memes if you go looking for it, but the difference from before and now seems a bit stark

don't misunderstand me, this isn't me being defeatist, just being a bit melancholy (and mad at the s2 finale tbh lol) about it. shout out to the regulars i see in the tags still making stuff and posting jokes, ya'll are doing the most and i wish you all the passion and motivation and time to create in the world <3

#obviously in this day and age ppl seem to drop fandom right away after the media in question is done so it's not totally unexpected #but the stark difference between so much new art being shared during airing vs the sudden quiet after the finale was. damn. #the izzy tag and regular fandom tags are still pretty active but i have a very specific love lol and it is #stizzy #steddyhands #gentlehands #even the ed and izzy tags are a little more active tho that's mostly because of the meta and angst enjoyers (mood) #anyway as soon as i'm done with finals and have some free time during the break i am going to draw so much old man yaoi #and maybe finally do more of and share my steddyhands mermaid au lol #also one more thing #if i'm sad about how much less steddyhands and stizzy stuff is happening #i am sending so many thoughts and prayers ™ to the frenchie and izzy and lucius and izzy shippers bc goddamn #they also got fucked over this season #we all thought we were winning and then suddenly we all got smacked in the face about it adfgfkj

[mirick-vn]

well fuck. what did i eat that day to make this fucking comment.

#no cause fr tho #what the fuck #i dont even remember making this comment and then i am reminded of its existence when someone liked it #damn #idk if its even accurate to their characters 😭😭😭 #yknow what #it is what it is #make of this what you will #vanitas no carte #vnc #vanoé #noé archiviste #vanitas #vanoé angst #does this count as angst?? #idk #also happy new year #im alive

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Considering your lights out au how would Howdy feel seeing Barnaby's detached arm.

honestly it would be something along the lines of Howdy freaking tf out, but Poppy & Frank are just like:

#wally: thats my best friend <3 #howdy: .... #howdy: thats PART of your best friend. you understand that right? PART of him. #wally: best friend <3<3 #howdy: there's something wrong with you #cut to a few months later #howdy: *holding the arm* OUR best friend <3 #its the group's emotional support plushie. howdy is not immune to this #damn when eddie wakes up he's not even gonna get to address it #he'll look at it and open his mouth and everyone is gonna be all WE FUCKING KNOW. GET OVER IT #rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #i was gonna scribble for this but i couldn't quite figure out how to portray it.... #ill have to think More on howdy's reactions and what happens when he wakes! #it'll just have to go in the au angst doodle post i'm slowly compiling.

[dollypopup]

i can't wait to see Penelope being in love on main w/ Colin at any and every given moment in S3

-coming to him with her concerns to hear his opinions. listening to him when he comes to her. all the razor sharp, witty banter they share

-encouraging and hyping up his writing and his interests. asking to read more of his work. just going full gush fest

-standing up for her bb boi when someone tries to make a rude comment about him (yes, including his family)

-all the squee scenes when he's being a total babe (he's a babe all the time, perpetual levels of squee)

-recognizing that her fantasy of Colin is nothing on the reality of him and telling him as much. she loves his imperfect self so much

-reaching for him whenever she wants so she can hold his hand or rub his back or go in for a snuggly hug

-telling him she's happiest when she's with him and that she likes him as a person (the 'i like you' 'i like you, too' convo is too near and dear to my heart)

-aaaaaaall the love language validations. extra touchy all the time. finding (and making up) excuses to spend more time with him. offering to edit his journals. remembering his favorite foods. telling him what she loves about him. bringing him snippets of her writing for him to read.

-i just need to see Pen love up on Colin, he deserves it

#polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #i've had it #just let her love him #it's enough with the angst #give me more fluff and romance #he's so damn loveable ALL the time how can she NOT love him openly and without hesitation? #especially after having done sweet fuck all over the course of 2 years in that regard other than look at him #she's BEEN wanted to love up on him on main just LET HER #S3 pen is in her 'was evil but just wanna be loved now' era and i admire the hell out of her for it

[kelin-is-writing]

some reverse comfort before i fall asleep lol

dabi has a lot of nightmares and he's terrified of you finding out so he avoids sleeping at your place for a very long time

once you manage to convince him tho he'll try so hard to stay awake all night long and in case he does fall asleep and have a nightmare he'll try his hardest to not wake you up and he might even move to the couch if it was a rly bad one :')

you find out at some point ofc and dabi feels so weak and childish for being so affected by his dreams. he's very caught off guard when you don't judge him but proceed to comfort him instead.

the way you hold him after he wakes up with bloody tears slowly rolling down his cheeks once again quickly becomes his favourite thing 🥺

he would never admit it but he kinda looks forward to having nightmares now bc it means you'll hold him for the rest of the night and run your fingers through his hair while mumbling reassuring words and reminding him of how much you love him :3

- 🥛

NO NO NO BECAUSE— imagine dabi nodding off but then jumps awake cursing himself for nearly falling asleep with you beside him, he pinches the bridge of his nose shaking his head while reminding himself to stay awake.

the last thing he wants is to show you an uncool and weak side of him, this boy wants you to know only the badass side of him.

at some point though you did find out about this little detail and while it would be just fair to accept him not wanting to open up with you yet, it made you sad that he had to restrain himself out of fear that you would be bothered by his awful past that still haunts him.

“you know, if you want to sleep go ahead, i don’t mind.”, you tell him testing the waters to see what his answer will be and how you’re gonna proceed then “i’m not that sleepy, i want to spend more time with you princess.”, liar. he has been yawning since he came an half hour ago, it’s so obvious he’s tired and you were happy dabi wanted to spend time with you, but his health was way more important right now.

which is why sighing heavily you surrounded his neck with one arm, then resting an hand on its side you pulled him down to place his head onto your lap “we’ll spend plenty of time together when you'll wake up, now sleep.”, he widened his eyes blinking a few times before trying to lift himself up, but you forced him down once again glaring at him with pursed lip. dabi knows you wanted to look menacing, but he couldn’t help finding you adorable instead.

the villain was truly so thankful you wanted to help him, but this wasn’t bound to end well and shit– despite him trying so hard not to fall asleep, he felt so damn comfortable and relaxed with his head on your legs while you pet him so gently, like he’s made of glass.

after he fell asleep, twenty minutes later, you felt dabi start shiver while gritting teethes suddenly; your eyes looked away from the book you were reading to glance down at him “t-the flames... i can’t– i can’t stop them...!”, you heard dabi mumble in his sleep as he started to tremble so much it seemed like an electric shock went through his whole body, what made you even more worried were the tears of blood streaming down his cheek as he was holding back from screaming at what he was dreaming.

whatever it was though you could see it wasn’t a nightmare like every other one, dabi is too deep into it to the point his body was almost convulsing as his pants became gasps, like he was struggling to breath and that simply broke your heart.

but as of now it was better to wake him up, leaving down the book, you gently rested one hand on his shoulder leaning down to his ear “dabi, baby...”, you said softly while caressing his upper arm tenderly, feeling relief wash all over you as his eyelashes fluttered briefly against your legs before he slowly opened his eyes still dazed.

after a second dabi noticed right away the blood stains on your shorts, he raised right away from his laid position, a bitter scowl on “fuck! sorry y/n, i–”, the villain got cut off by your sudden hug that left him speechless “it’s fine.” “princess–” “it’s okay to cry in front of me, don’t keep everything inside...”, he snorts closing his arms around your waist holding you tightly while burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply your scent that always managed to relax him whenever he had an hard time, just like your presence did “i’m fucking uncool though, and also tainting your shirt with blood...” “i can wash it, you know?! besides... you ain’t uncool just because you’re crying, you’ve suffered dabi and your feelings matter, more than anything else.”, his heart fluttered at hearing your words, just like that more blood started to stream long his cheeks as a broken sob left his lips, you felt tears build up in your eyeline blurring your sight as you started to slowly caress the back of his head “will you stop love me after this?”, he dared to ask with hoarse voice, never pulling back, too embarrassed to look at you and you noticed, that’s way you were the one to pull back, looking into his eyes “if anything, i’ll start love you even more now.”, you answered while cupping his cheeks and running your thumb across his cheekbone, scrunching your nose teasingly at your boyfriend who was left, once more, speechless by your honesty and genuine love for him.

dabi rested an hand on the back of your head, getting a confused look from you, before pulling you onto his chest and hugging you again; eyes wide staring in front of him as his cheeks slowly turned red and heart started hammer hard inside his ribcage.

maybe crying and having nightmares wasn’t as bad as he thought as long as you are by his side, cuddling him.

#kelin responds #answered #🥛 #bnha angst #mha angst #dabi angst #touya todoroki angst #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #guys... when i tell you i've cried while writing this i'm fucking serious #just... like... listen– if dabi was ever to break out sobbing while i hug i wouldn't be able to refrain myself from sobbing too #it broke my heart only writing this because hear me out– he deserves the universe fr... #i love this man so fucking much i need him to always be happy or i'll be so damn upset 😭

[lovestruck-butterfly]

I am in the mood to listen to the whole DAMN crew storyline. Like restart season 1 and just experience them becoming friends and then family. I know eventually it'll lead me to Inversion but I'm willing to go through that pain again...I think.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted fluff #redacted #redacted audio #redacted angst #redacted lore #redacted gav #redacted gavin #redactedaudio #redacted huxley #redacted damn #redacted damn crew #redacted damien #redacted lasko #redacted freelancer #fuck off Kody

[anabetel35]

If you like Kuwei, whatever you do, just don’t think about how he probably grew up isolated from his peers because of his father’s status. How he probably took to reading because no one around him could spare a single second for him. How, when he and his father had to flee the country and were captured by the Fjerdans, he probably realized that what happened to him was a perfect backstory for a main character of some epic story. How, when he had to watch his father try to create a drug that could enslave and kill nearly all Grisha in the world, people just like the two of them, his biggest comfort came from the silly belief that at the end of his story, he too would have everything that he wanted — a family, a lover, a friend, just anyone who would finally care about him. Recognition. Joy. Love.

How, when his father died and he was left alone, a small, delusional, cruel part of him was almost sure that it was necessary for him to then be loved. How, when the Crows came for him, deep down, he fully expected them to be his new family. How, even when everyone was cold to him on the ship, he still tired to convince himself that it was because one of theirs was on the brink of death. How he dumbly tried to tell himself that they won’t actually turn him over to the merchant that wants him because they’re reasonable people. How he spent his days and nights in a cold tomb, pushing down the memories of his now dead father and his grim future, all alone, curled up in a corner.

How he had developed a crush on Jesper, bright, kind, warm Jesper, as if he could do anything else, and then had to watch helplessly as that ray of sunshine ignored him, as he got closer to the boy that had his face. How his skills and efforts were ignored just because what he might know seemed far more important to the people around him. How, not more than two days before the auction where his death would be faked, he got kissed by the man he began to adore and then was disliked for it by the only member of the team that actually tried to befriend him for a while.

How he had to stand tall in front of all the people, all those merchants, the royalty, the warriors, the guards, the farmers, the children, everyone, all the people who came to the Church of barter just to see who he’d be sold to. How he had to trust the six teens who only had qualms about killing him because he was worth a whole lot of money, with his life as different governments called out numbers that could feed the whole world for an entire lifetime. How the last thing that he could’ve seen before he died if the bullet that hit his chest missed his button even by a single hair, was the chaos ‘Brekker and his Crows’ started.

How, when he woke up, he barely had any time to calm down because one of the teens, the Drüskelle, was dead. How he now had to mourn him now, too, along with all that he lost. How, when he was laying down on the ship to pretend he’s dead, he realized that the people he saw as his saviors less than two months ago, and as the thing that he wanted more than life, didn’t care for him at all anymore. That they might even be happier if he died. How, as he neared the sea, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d let his one chance at happiness higher along the canal and that he was now destined for a life of despair.

How, when he arrived to the Little Palace, he wasn’t met with kindness or friendly faces. How he had to hide the fact that the thing he worked on day and night was the cure to a drug that his father had created, a drug that could’ve destroyed Grisha all around the world. How he was their only hope in the war against Fjerda. How he spent his nights awake dreaming of being a part of the family that the Crows clearly were. How he couldn’t seem to fit in anywhere he went.

Most importantly of all, don’t think about the fact that he’d been alone all his life.

#since no one else seems to be rambling about him I had to do it myself #but seriously why do we as the entirety of TWO fandoms sleep on this man so fucking much??? #he’s an amazing character we just didn’t get to see him a whole lot #but Zoya’s description of him (as snobbish as he is talented) should be enough to make us go feral about him #like yes he’s a little shit but 1) we love him for it and 2) so is Kaz and we love him too #and there is so much possible angst we can put him through??? #and the relationships he’s have with the other characters??? we’re robbing ourselves of the duo that would be Zoya and Kuwei #or Wylan and Kuwei or Nina and Kuwei or Inej and Kuwei or Tamar and Kuwei or— #also he’s one of the most lonely characters in the damn Grishaverse and yet we haven’t done anything with that #(I’m here if anyone else wants to scream about this fifteen years old traumatized inferno (possibly) orphan) #kuwei yul bo #kuwei my beloved #six of crows #grishaverse #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #wesper #soc #ck #rule of wolves #king of scars #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias helvar #inferni #the grisha trilogy #grisha

[horseshoegirl]

Way Down We Go

(Bradley Bradshaw OneShot from Damn Those Dog Tags)

💛 AN: Just a little bonus chapter; you do not have to read it if you do not want to. I hope you do, though, cause I did a thing I had not planned on doing with this (Not the smut). Liz is not written in the second person, as this can be read separately from Damn Those Dog Tags.

Special thank you to @desert-fern and @startrekfangirl2233 for checking this over while I was sick!

THIS IS PURE FILTH. SO WHEN I SAY STAY OUT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, I MEAN IT!

❗18+ (Minors DNI!!), Strong language, Smut (Oral, Unprotected Sex), Original Female Character, Divorced Female Character, Mentions of Original child character, Bradley working through childhood trauma and the events of Part 13 of DTDT, mentions of name calling.

#8.7 K

📜 Rooster knows he fucked up. Badly. If it wasn't for Sadie kicking him out, the entire team standing with Jake was surely it. With nowhere else to go, Bradley finds himself knocking on the front door of the one person he knows he could confide in. Even if she tells him what he doesn't want to hear.

Sadie's teary-eyed face haunted Bradley the second he pulled out of Liz's driveway.

He couldn't escape it. No matter how much he stomped on the gas pedal or how loud he turned up the radio to blast 80s music, nothing could remove the sheer devasted look on her face as she told him to get out.

He knew he wasn't paying attention as he drove. Cars honked. Yellow stop lights went ignored. He forgot to turn his blinker on as he changed lanes or turned corners without so much as stopping.

It was a miracle no roadside police or highway patrol pulled him over. But Sadie, forgoing calling him her uncle or even by his callsign, hurt him badly. He couldn't have cared less if he obeyed the rules of the road.

It wasn't until he came to a stop sign at a four-way intersection Bradley suddenly slammed his brakes hard, the tires of his Bronco skidding to a halt. He hit his hands off the steering wheel, letting out a guttural roar of pure frustration.

Liz had lied. And the whole team had taken Hangman's side. Did they not get it? Did they not understand that Hangman would leave them out to dry the second he got what he wanted?

He had a tally. And Rooster could only remember the nights he watched every single one of the bartenders before Liz quit because Hangman broke their hearts.

It was only a matter of time before Liz was next. Before Sadie was next.

A broken heart over whatever her relationship was with him would be better than the alternative.

But he couldn't deny he was hurt. Was he angry at them? At Liz? Sadie, concussed and still sassing the hell out of him, because even a ten-year-old saw through his bullshit? Or was he angry at himself? Cause maybe deep down, Sadie doing exactly that made Bradley realize just how badly he had fucked up.

Staying at the intersection for a little while, Bradley rested his head against the top of the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing and fight the ache in his chest. Until he gathered the strength to lift his head and stare out at the roads in front of him, realizing the choice he needed to make.

He could turn back around, even if he shouldn't. He could turn left and go to Maverick. But Mav would call him out on what he said, and Bradley didn't want to relive the same look of utter disappointment that wrecked Sadie's face on Pete's.

Seeing it on one person he cared about was enough.

He could go straight and go home to be alone with his thoughts, with nothing but misery for company.

But looking right, Bradley realized he had a third option, despite only seeing her within the context of Liz and Sadie. An address stood out in the back of his mind. He had dropped Sadie off there enough times to remember the route without having to look it up, and he wasn't sure why he suddenly had the urge to seek her out now. 

Maybe he knew she would listen to him when no one else would. And right now, the last thing Bradley wanted was to be alone.

The impulse was too strong. He decided to turn right.

Bradley found himself on auto-pilot as he drove, maybe a little more numb or spaced out than the road rage he had before. It wasn't until he pulled into the driveway of the little white-panelled house did his emotions suddenly seem to quiet down.

The wind had slightly picked up, rustling the red, white, and blue flag hanging off one of the support beams on the front porch. Bradley fixed his eyes on it as he climbed out of his Bronco and up the walkway, pausing at the first step.

She had a way of making him feel welcome since the first day he came to pick Sadie up from school. She made him laugh as she called him out on his shit or teased him for flirting with the other school moms as the pair waited for Will and Sadie. 

The thought hurt, knowing Liz would probably follow through with her long-standing threat of revoking his Sadie privileges, not that she really needed to.

Sadie had made it clear enough. He was clearly unwanted. 

But New Year’s Eve stood out in Bradley’s mind, the night he found himself thinking about repeatedly. If it wasn’t the quick celebratory pluck on the lips the two of them shared, it was the time they spent together simply talking in the hours afterwards. About everything and anything, no judgment whatsoever. 

Bradley sometimes wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips again.

Properly this time.

The memory of that conversation led him to step up onto her porch and knock his knuckles against the door. But in waiting for her to open the door, he bit his bottom lip hard. What were the chances Liz had called her over the past hour, telling her everything he had done? Everything he had said? There was a good chance she wouldn’t even come to the door.

Pacing back and forth, he started questioning why he had decided to come here, wondering if he had enough time to leave without being caught. Once she found out what he said, there was no question she'd want to add her name to the growing list of people who never wanted to see him again.

But it was too late for him to turn around. Just as he went to take that first step toward the walkway, the door opened.

Alyssa, wrapped in a silky white robe, was shocked to see Bradley standing on the other side of her door. Not that she minded; she had been crushing hard on the piano-playing aviator since he started picking Sadie up from school. But outside of Sadie and Liz, Rooster didn't have very many reasons to seek her out.

The first thing she noticed about him was the pure look of devastation permanently etched across his face as he turned to face her. His eyes were rimmed red, and his hair was a mess like he had raked his fingers through the strains multiple times. Even the confidence she always found to radiate off him was absent, and she wouldn't be surprised to learn he had paced across the deck multiple times before deciding to knock.

It was that one look that told her everything she needed to know.

"What did you fuck up?"

Bradley reared back. "That obvious?"

"You show up on my doorstep close to nine at night with your tail between your legs. You wouldn't be coming to me, of all people, had you not done something to piss off your entire team. Liz included."

He looked past her and into her front hallway. "Where's Will?"

"At his father's," she said unamused, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at him pointedly.

Taking one look at her, Bradley suddenly felt small. Alyssa was Liz’s friend. She would no doubt side with her.

"I can leave," he said, his voice full of resignation. With his hands raised, he stepped backwards, proceeding down the two steps of her front porch.

Alyssa frowned. "I asked you a question, Bradley. That's not me kicking you off my front porch."

Bradley froze, his face crumbling at her words. It made Alyssa pause, wondering if she had been a little too harsh. Whatever happened, it was clear Bradley had nobody else.

He wouldn’t have come to her otherwise.

Without taking her eyes off him, she stepped backwards, leaving her front door open and walked towards her kitchen. "I've got tea on the stove," she called out, voice carrying out the front door. "Or I have something stronger if that suits you better."

Bradley hesitated, watching her retreat back inside. Something about that open door was calling to him, beckoning him to take her up on her offer. He knew he'd have to explain what happened to her, and at one point on his drive over, he knew it was possible she'd react exactly the same way Sadie did.

But instead, she was here, willing to listen.

It was enough.

Stepping back up those front two steps, Bradley found himself walking through her open door, quietly shutting it behind him. Rounding the corner of her hallway, Alyssa had her back to him, taking a bright red kettle off the stove. She reached up to a cupboard above her head, opening the door to pull out a white mug before turning around to greet him.

"Pick your poison."

He eyed her mug. "So long as it's not tea. I can't handle something that weak."

Alyssa scoffed, turning back around to pour the hot water into the mug. She was methodical as she worked, adding her tea bag and unscrewing a jar of honey, taking a spoon through the gooey liquid before adding it to her tea.

"Who said I take this weak?" she remarked, walking over and reaching for the bottle of whiskey she had tucked away in the back corner. "Clearly, you've never had a hot toddy before."

She unscrewed the cap as she walked, pouring a good amount into her drink. If Bradley showed up at her door wanting to talk, she was clearly going to need some liquid courage to help her through whatever problems he brought with him.

Alyssa poured Bradley his own glass, approaching him with her arm outstretched and placing it into his hand.

"Spill Bradshaw," She remarked, picking up her mug and cradling it in between her hands, leaning over her island next to him. "We got all night."

Bradley looked down, sloshing the liquid around in the glass before bringing it up to his lips. He tilted his head back, allowing himself to relish in the burn down the back of his throat.

He told her what happened—all of it. 

The booth on New Year's Eve. Why Hangman was at the Hard Deck on a Friday afternoon when the rest of the Squad was elsewhere. At the hospital. How he hesitated to leave Sadie's hospital room, turning back around only to see Hangman with his arms wrapped tightly around Liz in an intimate manner.  

Alyssa listened the best she could, as much as she wanted to pick up one of her cookbooks and whack him over the head at his stupidity. She, instead, stared down at her tea, biting her lip as she resisted the urge to butt in. It was clear Bradley had nobody to talk to about how he felt about all this.

He had bottled this up for far too long, and she knew if she did anything to make him stop, he'd never come to her or trust her again.

But Alyssa didn't know if it was out of pity or a reaction to his sheer idiocy when she poured him a second drink when he got to the fight—being invited to dinner. Hangman interacting with Liz. Sadie curled so tightly into his side as she slept. It didn't make sense how he suddenly fit in with the two of them. So when Sadie asked to be excused, he saw his opportunity to get the answers he so desperately wanted. He had followed her inside, wanting to find out what she knew.

Only he never made it.

Because the door to Liz's bedroom was left wide open, and the presence of a bag lying open next to the bed was enough. He had seen that bag enough times on deployments to know it was Jake's.

Bradley saw red; its presence confirmed every single lie Liz had told him, every aversion or subject change when answering his questions. She had lied to him, and he felt betrayed. Storming out of her hallway, he saw Jake talking with Nat, Liz's name on his lips. 

Nothing else mattered when he stormed down her hallway, Bradley shouting in Jake's face. Jake had pushed him back. Nat got between the two of them. Then Liz appeared, and her concern for Sadie was more important than the reason why he might be yelling. 

Bradley couldn't stop rambling, recounting each yell, each shout, that echoed in Liz’s front hallway. It was like someone turned on a tap and broke the handle, Bradley hardly stopping to breathe. The whole team had known and defended the relationship. It would have been one thing for Liz to have lied and slept with him; it was another to find Jake’s bag in her room and verbal confirmation it was more than just a tumble in the sheets.

And Liz, so furious, ripping into him. How she backed him into an imaginary corner, opened him up piece by piece, and got him on the edge of admitting his friction with Jake, with his involvement with her, was more than an extension of their professional rivalry. 

Bringing up his father. His mother. 

He couldn't even look Alyssa in the eye when he told her what he said to Liz. The gasp was enough, reminding him of the damage he wrought. And Sadie, who had been watching, who stepped out from behind Bob while clearly in pain, gripping Hangman’s leg and demanding he leave. 

Alyssa couldn't help but smile into her mug when Bradley told her Sadie had kicked him out. By the time he had finished his story, Bradley was out of breath, tipping back the rest of his whiskey in one angry gulp.

"Well, that's fucked up."

"That she choose Hangman?"

"Not her, you, you fucking idiot!" Reaching over her island, she pushed him hard on his shoulder. "Liz isn't like that!

Bradley gripped his glass precariously by the tips of his fingers, dangling it back and forth while staring into the empty glass, preparing himself for the verbal punishment he knew he deserved.

"Seriously, why the hell would you say something like that, Bradley? Heaven forbid we need to change your last name to Bradshit."

He rolled his eyes. "Nice."

"You deserve it! God, you're worse than most of the kids in Will's class!"

"His bag was right there!"

"Because fucking Tyler!" She shouted. "I didn't hear you offering to stay with them! Liz feels the safest when she's with people, you damn well know this!"

He did know it. Liz wouldn’t have survived if he and Nat had not volunteered to go with her when Ridley passed away.

Alyssa was angry at him. Rightly so, in her opinion. She couldn't even look him in the face, turning to walk away and place her mug in her kitchen sink when she spat, "I know you and Jake don't see eye to eye on things, but you're not Liz's keeper. If she wants to date him, let alone fuck him, then stay the hell out of her way."

It’s unusual for Bradley to be this silent, especially when he was the one being discussed, always willing to pitch in and be a storyteller. Or when there was a large crowd, especially at the hard deck, he’d find a way or sit at the piano, turning everyone's heads to be the centre of their attention.

Alyssa thought maybe he was contemplating the consequences of his actions when she added, “Liz might be shit at handling her emotions, but she’d never put Sadie at risk. Why the hell would you compare her to your mom?”

She knows she’s rambling. Raging even. And yet, Bradley hasn’t said a word. She sighs, knowing Bradley would continue with the silent treatment if she continued yelling at him like this.

Turning around, Bradley had his back to her, head hanging low as he leaned against the counter. Then the first jolt racked his body, and Alyssa realized he was crying. 

"Bradley..." she cooed softly. Leaving her mug on the counter, she slid her hand along the cool surface as she walked, settling herself next to Bradley by leaning upon the granite and balancing herself against her hands.

 Standing beside him, she realized just how much bigger he was than her, towering over her with broad shoulders and biceps almost the size of her head. And looking down at both of their hands, side by side, she knew without a doubt his entire hand would engulf hers. However, she's never felt small in her life standing next to a man, let alone next to a complicated one such as Bradley.

"I'm going to tell you something. Something Liz would kill me for, but you need to know."

Bradley turns his head at her voice, still keeping it low, hoping she couldn't see his tears. Alyssa sighs once before admitting, "Liz is a virgin, Bradley. She hasn't slept with anyone. And Jake knows this."

It doesn't come as a surprise to Bradley that she knew. But he still shakes his head. He really was the last to know everything.

"You knew. Like everyone else."

"I'm her friend, Bradley," she rolled her eyes. "Of course, I knew."

She saw it coming a mile away. If it wasn't the night at the Hard Deck, it was Jake picking up Sadie from school. And Sadie's attempts at matchmaking, but Bradley didn't need to know that.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" he asks, voice cumbersome.

"Because you've only seen what you've wanted to see."

“What I’m seeing now after hearing that is Liz being heartbroken when she gives him her first time and he leaves her.”

"Why are you so caught up on the idea that Jake is going to leave her?" she asks heatedly, ignoring his comment. "Don't you think he would have run for the fucking hills by this point, given everything that has happened?"

Her line of questioning was logical, and it only made it worse for Bradley. Because he couldn't come up with any response to counter her that wouldn’t sound childish. Yet, he still couldn't help but recite the words, "He's not good for them."

"And you aren't?" she scoffed. "Cause it's sure as hell not looking that way. Not if Sadie has to kick you out."

Clearly, that had been the wrong thing to say. He sniffled, biting his lip as a fresh wave of tears made their way down his face at the memory. This time, Alyssa does see his face and is suddenly filled with guilt for being so harsh.

"Bradley," she said his name softly, taking him into her arms. He folded into her, glass clinking on the countertop as he turned, letting it go to bracket his arms across her upper back and burying his head into the corner of her neck.

Alyssa slowly rubbed up and down his spine, shushing him similarly to how she'd comforted Will after a nightmare. Bradley's hot tears were trailing under the hem of her rob as he whimpered quietly, and she couldn't help but place a comforting kiss on his cheek.

He had clearly reached his breaking point.

"You can tell me what's wrong," she whispered gently into his ear. "You don't have to go through whatever this is alone, Roo."

His grip on her lessened, but he didn't let her go. Lifting his head, he shuttered out a breath, hand sliding down her back until it rested against her hip. She felt the warm air caressing her face, finding herself tilting her head just a little, her nose rubbing alongside his.

His moustache tickled her upper lip as Bradley opened his mouth slightly as she slid her hand across his side and up to his chest, flat against his pec. The air was thick and hot, and she wasn't sure whether it was tension or anticipation flooding her stomach.

But then Bradley pressed his lips to hers ever so delicately, a light graze of skin upon skin, and Alyssa froze. Her brain was still trying to register the touch of his lips upon hers when he started to deepen the kiss, moving his mouth more firmly against hers. Then it became a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, Bradley gripping her tighter as if she'd float away. 

But as soon as she whimpered in the kiss, he pulled back with a harsh pant, shocked at his actions. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice low and hoarse, letting her go. "I shouldn't have."

His back hits the edge of the island as he steps away from her, forcing himself to grip the edge so he doesn’t reach out and touch her. It's not enough distance for Alyssa to lose her grip on his shirt, holding it tight to balance herself.

Yes, maybe he shouldn't have kissed her while he was so strung up on his emotions. But she also knew if Bradley didn't admit to himself what was really bothering him soon, it might be too late the next time something happened like this.

Because if there was one thing she absolutely knew about Bradley, it was that he never understood the weight of his actions, nor did he acknowledge the consequences until it was too late, blinded by the anger and the hurt of his own feelings.

He needed to calm down, and he needed to now. And if that kiss was any indication, she knew just how to do it.

Alyssa slowly let her hand fall from Bradley's chest as she sauntered away, walking toward her bedroom. She had left the door open, intending to return with her cup of tea after her shower and a good book before he had shown up. Bradley's eyes followed her curiously but with worry, thinking she was horrified at his actions.

But she stopped halfway inside her room.

And let her robe drop to the floor.

His breath hitched. She had been wearing absolutely nothing underneath, and Bradley's knuckles whitened on the counter as he took in the curve of her naked back.

Alyssa slyly looked over her shoulder, eyes inciting him to join her. Bradley's never left her as he pushed himself away from the island, each step slow and steady. She watched him stalk forward out of the corner of her eye, anticipation and pure want starting to build in the pit of her stomach.

Calloused hands lightly grabbed her hips, fingers sliding across her stomach. Alyssa hummed as Bradley's breath warmed her neck, smelling the remnants of his whisky as her hand gently held his wrist.

He breathed against the shell of her ear hotly. "Can I fuck you?"

She leaned back against him, head turning to rasp against his mouth, "Why the hell did I drop my robe for you?"

Bradley is on her instantly, desperately moulding his lips to hers, moaning against her mouth. His hand tightened across her stomach as Alyssa reached behind his head, carting her fingers through his hair. She's still gripping his wrist, nails biting into his skin as he starts sliding his hand downwards, cupping her core.

He tastes whiskey and honey on his tongue, tracing it along the inside of her mouth. Alyssa moans against his lips when Bradley’s fingers slide down and spread her open, clit burning with the exposure to the cool air. She pulls away but hover’s her mouth over his, harsh pants echoing in the space between them. 

There’s some quick retort forming in her mind, ready to egg him on into following through. But it dies before she even manages to voice it.

His pointer finger is rubbing tight, firm circles against her clit, and she gasps, mouth falling away from Bradley’s as she wobbles, legs on the verge of giving out. He doesn’t stop, encouraged by her reaction to keep going, even sliding down to gather some of her wetness on the pad of his finger before returning to his previous task. 

Suddenly, his other hand slides up from her hip and across her torso to grip one of her breasts. His hold is tight, almost rough, as he pulls her against his front.

She feels like she is on display this way, Bradley caressing and groping her body as if she was being made into one of those marble Greek statues featured at a museum. An artist watching how each flick of his hand and accompanying pant twisted her body, or how a particular twist of his hand caused her hips to clash backwards into his.

It was too much. In a second, Alyssa turned in Bradley's tight hold, reaching up to hold either side of his neck to press a desperate kiss to his lips. Bradley matches her with the same intensity, working his tongue into her mouth as he takes hold of the skin at her hip.

His chest is being racked with harsh pants as he walks her backwards, a single hand on her neck. Her knees hit the edge of her bed, and she falters. Bradley tilts them both forward, making them fall into the bed. Alyssa lands with a single bounce, Bradley slotting his thigh between her legs with the movement and catching himself above her with each hand on either side of her head.

Staring up at him, she can see the pure want in his eyes. The desperation as he takes her in lying underneath him. Slowly, he lowers himself down, grinding his denim-covered thigh purposely into her bare cunt. Panting at the feeling, she slid her hands across his abs under his shirt, feeling the sculpted muscles ripple under her touch before she felt him press his forehead to hers, hot breath filling the space between their mouths.

He doesn't kiss her. Bradley purposely avoids her lips, his hot breath warming her skin as he makes his way down her body, deliberately pausing whenever he exhales. Each is long, heavy, and lewd - at the curve of her neck, above her breast, around her nipple. The further down he went, the greater Alyssa tugged at her comforter, both hands gripping the fabric as if she'd float away.

And then he pauses when he reaches her cunt, grasping the bend of her knees and pushing them open. She parts her legs willingly, slightly unsure of his intentions but hoping to god it involved an orgasm or two.

When his fingers move to part her folds, Alyssa's eyes widen. Holding her open, Bradley dove in, licking firm strips up her folds before his mouth enclosed her clit, hands holding her hips still and keeping her against his mouth as he sucked.

He's relentless, moaning into her with deep rumbles that vibrate against her clit, a wanton cry of his name crawling deep from within her chest at the sensations it caused. Bradley lets her go with a wet sound, only to hook two fingers and ease them into her, his tongue following in kind.

Alyssa tightens around his fingers and whimpers at the roughness of his tongue and how he's frantically lapping at her. Like he was in a desert, and she was the only source of water.

She can’t help but slide her hand into his hair, gripping the short strands in a vice grip to tug him closer. But instead, he manages to pull back a few inches only to breathe out, “You taste so fucking sweet.”

Her body jolts at the praise, Bradley back to licking at her with long broad strokes, tongue darting up every so often to nudge at her clit. His fingers press hard against her g-spot while the other brackets across her stomach, holding her hips down as she buckles them into his mouth. Till she feels the tightening in her stomach, and she knows she’s close.

“Fuck Bradley, I’m so close,’ she sobs.

“Cum for me,” he snarls in one breath. “Prove how much you want me.”

Alyssa never knew she needed to know the answer to the question of whether or not someone could orgasm from hearing someone’s voice. If it hadn’t been for how he was working her, she was damn sure he would have confirmed it by saying those words to her alone. 

Because she was shaking, sparks flying across her body and her legs clamping down around Bradley’s head as she reached her peak. His fingers eased in their rhythm, working her through the aftermath as he took her in. 

Back arched. Head gasping into her pillow and her hands gripping the sheets. Chest heaving. All because of him. And it caused desperation to grow within his chest as he sat back, placing his hand on her thigh in silent comfort. 

When her pleasure finally levelled out, Alyssa looked down at Bradley between her thighs, his eyes blown wide and desperate, staring up at her.

It’s the tiniest of nods from Alyssa that makes him move. He stands, the sound of a zipper and a buckle being undone, of heavy fabric hitting the floor, and a rhythmic clink of his dog tags as he removes his shirt. Then he's crawling on the bed over her, pressing kisses up her stomach, sucking her breast into his mouth and licking a path up from the centre of her chest to her collarbone.

There’s a quick brush of his hand against the inside of her thigh before he’s reaching for his cock, rubbing the tip against her entrance. She tilts her head back into her pillow, moaning at the feeling. Bradley follows her, panting as he seeks out her mouth.

"Do you want this?" he gasps around her lips. "Do you want me?"

She smiles. "Me letting you eat me out wasn't enough consent for you?"

Bradley doesn't laugh at her quip. Instead, he presses forward just a bit, the head of his cock just barely slipping inside. She whimpers, fingernails digging into his back.

"I said," he grunts out a little more firmly. "Do you want me?"

She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her give in. Turning her head, she gasps into his mouth, "Just shut up and fuck me, Brad-shit."

In two seconds, Bradley growls, pushing his cock the rest of the way in, making Alyssa mewl.

He's big. Bigger than anything she's ever had before, and it takes her a moment to adjust. She's grateful Bradley is giving her that chance. He looks unhinged, holding himself above her, his face red, an angry vein protruding from his forehead.

Yet, despite the wrecked look on his face, he starts thrusting slowly when she grips his shoulder, small shifts of his hips that have her whimpering at the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her.

She cannot help but think he is going too slow.

“More,” she whines, wriggling underneath him.  

“More?” he asked through a rough gasp. “More of what?”

Bowing his head, Bradley kisses a path down between her breasts, hand bunching one in his grasp before taking the nipple into his mouth. He sucks, tongue darting around the peak before letting it go with a loud pop.

“More of this?” he accentuates with a hard thrust that has her gasping into his mouth, and he cannot help but kiss her once. Twice.

"More of my lips on yours?" he uttered throatily, trailing his lips down the outline of her jaw to the soft skin behind her ear. "More of my teeth marking you up?"

All of that, she thinks to herself as the fire builds in her stomach and the sounds of wet slaps fill the room.

"No," he grunts thickly. "It's not any of those things. It's me, isn't it?"

Bradley doesn't give her the option of replying, suddenly sitting back on his haunches and seizing her hips. She fell further down the bed as he tugged, arms dropping beside her head as he started to pick up the pace.

"It's me you want," he growls. "Me thrusting into you. Me making you feel this way. Me making you feel wanted. Me fucking you. Isn't it?"

She doesn't answer him, too enthralled by the feeling of him to manage to voice a single word. So he stops, letting go of one hip to lean forward on the bed and roar, "Isn't it!?"

“Yes, you,” she whimpers, finally allowing herself to give in to him. “All of you. I want all of you, Bradley.”

A growl escapes Bradley’s body, his eyes turning feral. His thrusts lose any semblance of rhythm as he begins to rock into her with wild abandon.

There is nothing slow or gentle to Bradley's movements, dragging out each reaction he could from her. He's gripping her tightly as he sets his pace with harsh, fast strokes, her breath catching in her throat. She's sure she is going on a hunt for several interestingly shaped bruises across her body in the morning. But she didn't care.

Not when Bradley was pounding into her like it was his last night alive.

Not when he was holding her wrists down on to the bed.

Not when he was suddenly over her, biting up her neck, only to take her ear lobe into his mouth and suck, when his hands were grabbing at her skin, and his cock was hitting all the right places.

Where?" he grunts, the sound vibrating in her ear. It's then she realizes the two of them were so caught up in the pleasure that neither one of them stopped to consider protection. It doesn't change her answer, though.

"Inside," she turns to gasp into his mouth. "Safe."

Her words trigger something in Bradley's mind. His pace increases in a desperate need to finish. His hand lets go of her wrist in favour of sliding down between their bodies, going straight for her clit and drawing figure eights as he thrusts, and Alssya digs her nails into his back at the added pleasure. 

Bradley collapses, shuttering out a chat of fucks and digging his head into her collarbone as he drops his entire weight onto her. Alyssa curled her legs up, locking them around his waist, hands digging into his shoulder blades as she wailed at the intensity.

Then, he's cumming, hands gripping the underside of her shoulders, pulling her even further onto his length as he fills her with a groan, mouth hanging open by the side of her neck. Alyssa squeals, the sound muffled by her teeth biting down on his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as she follows him over the edge, clamping down on him hard and milking him for all he's worth.

It's quiet in her bedroom, save for their shared gasps of breath and her wall clock ticking away the seconds. There’s a haze filling the room, making everything and anything impossible. Bradley hasn't let her go, sagging his weight down into her, keeping her pinned to the bed.

She should feel suffocated. Maybe even a little gross. The both of them are covered in slick, and sweat, and she’s sure both of their releases are smearing the insides of her thighs, leaking onto her sheets as she uncurls them from around his waist.

But it's in the haze she finally sees her chance. Bradley’s mind would be calm enough now, maybe less resistant to finally admitting the reason he was so upset. Because while Jake, Liz and Sadie were at the root of the issue, they were only the scapegoat for something much deeper.

"She had every right to kick you out, Bradley," she panted, stroking the back of his head. "Sadie was right. You were being a bully."

Bradley rolls off of her as soon as she finishes her sentence, Alyssa hissing as he pulls out. She’s sore, her core aching at the absence of his cock, but it doesn’t stop her from following him, laying a hand on his chest as he rests on his back.

She was done with the harsh remarks over glasses of whiskey. Bradley needed nothing but the truth.

"I know Liz hurt your feelings, Bradley, but there's more to this than not liking the fact Liz is dating Hangman."

He went to get out of bed, but Alyssa managed to swing her leg over, trapping him under. Groaning with the ache in her cunt, she placed her hands firmly on his chest. "Nope. You're not running from this."

"Lyssa..." he protests, halting at her weight, hands gripping the sheets on either side of her bare legs. A part of him realizes she did this on purpose, making him fall into bed with her so he'd be more compliant, more vulnerable. But another part wants to give in to her, a smaller part desperately crying out to be heard.

It's why he stops, his back collapsing into her headboard as she settles herself on top of him. Because right now, he's at the center of her attention, and she's fighting for him to stay.

“Hush,” she chimes back.

"Hangman is not a good guy. He's arrogant, selfish, and reckless... He's.."

"None of those things to Liz and Sadie," she interrupted him. "Would you call what he did for Sadie leaving her out to dry? How he listened to Liz, handcuffed to the floor, telling him to leave her?" 

Bradley knows she's right. But it doesn't stop him from biting his lip and avoiding her eyes. It makes Alyssa grab the side of his face, pulling his head up. Bradley lets her but closes his eyes, not ready for the words he knows she's about to say. 

"Look at me, Bradley." 

He makes a noise of protest, his face scrunching up in a last-ditch attempt at refusal. But Alyssa's grip on his face remains firm, gentle and absolute. 

"Roo, look at me," she tries again, this time softer.  “What is the real reason you are upset?”

He opens his eyes, confusion written across his face. "I told you."

She shook her head. "You told me the what and the how. You didn't tell me the why."

Bradley didn't say anything, choosing to stare at the clock behind her head. It encouraged her to continue with her point. "Jake hangs people out to dry. Liz is too good-hearted. Sadie and her will be hurt. We know all this. But it's more than that with you, Roo."

She knows Bradley has given up on escaping when he lets her gently stroke her fingers across his brow in a comforting manner. “I think this has less to do with Liz dating or sleeping with Jake and more about Sadie. But not in the way you've been making us believe.”

As her fingers slid down the side of his face, she pressed on. "I also think Liz was right when she said this has to do with your mom."

Her acknowledgement of his mom is softer than Liz's outburst. And unlike that time, it doesn't hurt as much when she brings it up. But it doesn't stop him from flexing his grip on her bare legs, subconsciously knowing she's getting closer and closer to uncovering the truth.

"Because if it were any other person who Liz decided to date, you wouldn't be reacting as hard as you are right now. Because with every reason you've given me for being upset, they all have one thing in common, "She pauses, a pensive look on her face, before she asks," What is it about the Navy that's making you act this way?"

Bradley knows he's finally been caught.

Whether he wanted to or not, Alyssa wasn’t going to let this go. He could easily get up, push her off, and walk out the door. Continue to bury the weight of the fear that's haunted him all of his life.

But he doesn't want to.

Alyssa looks at him in a way that tells him nothing he would say would change her opinion of him. That, for every fault and bad decision he's ever made, his fear wouldn't make her run away. And unlike the Daggers, who stood with Hangman in the aftermath of his outburst, he gets the feeling Alyssa would be the one to stand with him, even if she disagreed with his actions.

So for the first time since Jake was invited to that first Saturday Night, Bradley decides to be honest.

Maybe even to himself.

Sighing once, Bradley reaches for the Dog Tags lying in the middle of his chest. Hooking his thumb around the balled chain, he slid it down till the three thin pieces of metal sat in the palm of his hand. He’s staring down at them, and Alyssa follows his gaze. 

It takes her a second, but she realizes he added the third tag. She’s seen enough of the military men gracing the beach, let alone divorcing one, to know there were only supposed to be two. 

“Do you know why they give us dog tags?” he asks her without looking up. Alyssa nods with a sallow, cupping the underside of Bradley’s hand holding the precious metal. “If something happens, they can identify you.”

“Do you know why they give us two?” 

She does—two dog tags, one to take and one to leave. 

And suddenly, everything about Bradley’s reaction to his fight with Liz makes sense. Bradley was protecting Sadie from the circumstances of Jake's very possible someday. Protecting Liz from suffering through the grief of losing another person she loved dearly.

Because there’s no question whose name graced that third tag hanging around Bradley’s neck. 

She reaches with her free hand, picking up the tag not connected to the others. The metal is old, withered and roughed up. But she can still make out the name imprinted on one side as she flips it over.  

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw. 

Bradley’s father.  

“Mav was flying when my dad hit the canopy of their plane. They didn’t need to identify him but took the tag anyway,” he sniffed, tears making their way down his face. “Mav didn’t give two shits about rules back then when he swiped it. Still doesn’t.” 

Unhooking his thumb from the chain, Bradley twisted his hand, gently taking hold of Alyssa’s wrist as she held his father’s tag. “It’s all we have left when we burn in. All that remains.”

He lets her wrist go in favour of grasping the tag, Alyssa delicately letting it go when she realizes he wants to hold it. Holding the tag between his two fingers, he held it up in front of his face.

"I grew up watching my mom cry over this dog tag, whether it was around her neck or hanging on the mirror of her vanity. And I tried to help her. But her grief was just too much."

He lets the tag fall back to his chest, watching it go, keeping his gaze downward.

"When Liz's sister passed away, she shut down. Sadie knew it too," his eyes glaze over as he remembers finding Sadie pulling at strains of grass. "I found her in Liz's backyard a few weeks after we brought her home. She was trying to hide away because she didn't want Liz to know she was struggling to accept her mom was gone - because Liz had been trying her damn hardest not to cave, and Sadie knew, so she felt she had to do the same."

He shakes his head, trying to remove the memory from his head. Alyssa reached up to stroke along his shoulder and up and down his arm, hoping he would find the strength to continue.

"Jake flies like he has nothing to lose," he states through a harsh pant. "He's reckless and doesn't think about anyone else but himself. And in our line of work?" he scoffs. "He doesn't realize he has everything to lose now. At first, it was about trying to protect Liz and Sadie from him. From his reputation and cause, well, he's an asshole."

Bradley chuckles to himself softly, thinking back to the day on the soccer field. "Liz had no idea what was coming for her when Hangman returned from Texas. He went through every single female bartender Penny hired, and within a week, they were gone. I wasn't going to see Liz fall to the same fate. Even though she said she could handle it, I needed to be there for her."

Alyssa sees her chance to speak amongst his reminiscing, stating something she desperately knows to be true. "Because she cares. More than any average person."

Bradley closes his eyes and smiles softly, nodding once.

And Sadie?" he laughed. "I wasn't expecting her to invite him to own of our Saturday nights, to her hike, which none of unless had the privilege of. And it dawned on me it wasn't just Liz who needed I needed to protect."

His tears are back, tracking down the outside of his face, and Alssya doesn't resist the urge to wipe them away, cradling his cheek.

"I see so much of myself in her, Lyssa," he whimpers. "She has the whole world on her shoulders." He still has his eyes closed, tilting his head back to her ceiling, knocking his head against the headboard.

"But being in the Navy? It's a fucking death sentence. A promise." Bradley opens his eyes but doesn't look at her face, fixating on the tattoo on her collarbone, the small cursive font spelling out her Son's name. "When I say I'm mad at Liz, Mad at the fact they are together, I'm scared for the future Sade will have to bare. Because one day, it will be Sadie trying to pick Liz up from the bathroom floor, dealing with her own grief, wondering if she is enough."

Alyssa cannot help her silent tears hearing Bradley's story. She cannot imagine the weight he had to carry growing up or how fast he had to grow up. She's not surprised he would be drawing comparisons between himself and Sadie, both of them being dealt almost the same shitty hand in life.

She often thought about Will and what he might go through should Bradley's description of a possible someday happen to her ex-husband.

But in projecting his own emotional trauma, Bradley is missing something. He usually always does, too caught up in his initial hurt to see the bigger picture. Because never once in his explanation did he mention where he fits into all this.

She has a good idea why.

There are no scathing remarks, unkind words or judgments when Bradley finally decides to look at her. Instead, Alyssa looks sad, biting her lip as she gently reaches out to stroke his brow.

"Whose to say Sadie won't mourn you too?"

Her question guts him. So much so that Bradley breaks, his chin dropping to his chest as the first sob worked its way up his throat. Because the image is being painted so vividly in his mind.

It's not Ridley Sadie's crying over in that backyard, and it's not his hand she's holding while standing over her mother's grave. He can see her looking down at him, trembling lip as she grips Liz's hand.

It's not Ridley's death she's grieving. Or even Hangman's.

It's his.

"It's too late for that now," he manages to say through tears. "What I said, what I implied..."

Alssya smiles sadly, brushing away some of his tears, knowing Bradley would still harbour feelings of hatred towards Jake. "The both of them are going to forgive you. They just need time."

"Who is to say they won't?"

He says it so dejectedly that Alyssa feels she can't do anything else but take his face between her hands and place her forehead to his.

"Sadie doesn't pick favourites. She loves everyone equally," she explained, and Bradley knew she meant he was never a risk of losing Sadie's love. "And Liz... Well, you're family, Bradley. They are always going to need you."

Bradley shook his head, urging Alyssa to say something that cracked and glued his heart back together within the same sentence.

"You're never going to be unwanted, Bradley Bradshaw."

A weight, buried so deep, lifted from Bradley's chest. A burden he knew he'd been carrying since childhood but hadn't acknowledged until the aftermath of Mav pulling his papers. Because Maverick was one of the very few people Bradley had in his life supporting him when his mother passed away. And in one second, his support system was gone.

Once Bradley did get into the Navy, he spent the better half of his Naval career burying his feelings under the hatred he felt for Pete. He avoided every instance or mention of the man if he could help it. Then he was called back to Top Gun. Forced to confront every single thing he had spent years ignoring.

The aftermath of the Urainium mission brought back his support system. It brought him Liz, who showed up at the bar one day with a friendly smile and an interest in hearing everyone's stories as she poured them a drink from behind Penny's bar, never once treating them any differently because they were in the Navy, flirting with death each time they went up in the air.

Bradley couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him like that. He was worth her time; he was worth being her friend.

It also brought him Sadie, who took one look within seconds of meeting him and decided he was someone she wanted in her life. Her struggle with grief led him to believe that maybe everything he went through could be used to help this ten-year-old girl and her aunt get through it. It gave him purpose.

And his burden lessened.

Then Hangman returned from Texas, waltzing in months after Liz's sister passed away and Sadie had firmly cemented herself into all their lives. Suddenly, the progress he had made meant nothing.

Because Sadie inviting Hangman to that Saturday night triggered Bradley in ways he didn't know he could be, bringing him back to the days and nights, he'd sit with his mom as she tried to process her grief, wondering if he could help her. If he was doing enough or if his presence only reminded her of his father.

But Bradley cannot deny the truth behind Alyssa's words. He was so caught up in worrying, projecting his fears onto Liz and Sadie, he had failed to recognize it for what it was.

When the day came that Hangman did leave them out to dry or his someday came where he burned in, Bradley swore he would try to be there for them. In the way he was there when Liz's Sister passed away. 

Because Bradley was no longer haunted by the ghosts of his past, wondering if he had done enough. If he tried hard enough.

Alyssa reminded him that he was wanted.

Worth it.

And in some ways, even loved.

Reaching up, he grasped one of her wrists gently, turning his head to place a soft kiss on her skin. "I should have come to you sooner, Lyssa."

"Yeah, well, when you have to compete against Urusula on the blacktop for your attention," she shrugged, playing off the hidden meaning behind her words. But Bradley caught on, smirking as he rolled them over, trapping Alyssa underneath him and going straight for her neck.

"She's got nothing on you," he murmured, kissing the soft spot below her ear. Alyssa smiled coyly, stroking her free hand up the bare skin of his arm. "Oh really? Your tendency to gravitate towards her whenever you pick Sadie up says otherwise, full of Brad-shit."

"Have you seen those nails?" he remarked, grazing his moschate up the side of her neck. Alyssa threw her head back, nails scratching down his back. 

"A fighter pilot, risking his life and daring greatly in the face of danger, brought to his knees by the head of the P.T.A. and her manicured nails," she laughed, feeling the bristles tickle her skin. "How terrifying."

"Terrified," he remarked, pressing kiss after kiss down her neck. "Utterly terrifying."

Trailing down to her chest, Bradley took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard and letting it go with a pop before whispering huskily, "But you? I think I'll take my chances."

Wrapping her legs around Bradley's waist, Alyssa pressed herself up against his hardening length, lifting her mouth to his ear to remark teasingly, "Why don't you prove it, Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

He did.

Many times over that night.

Are you all going to be mad at me because Rooster got some after what he did? 😬👀 It's not all sunshine and rainbows about his opinion regarding Jake, though.

Part 14 of DTDT might be a little bit longer. I've been battling a really bad stomach bug, and the weather where I live has been great for producing migraines. So that's the reason for the delay.

Hopefully, soon!

Wickett ;)

Tag List for DTDT:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @seitmai

For those who found this and are interested in checking out the story this one shot is based on, check out the below:

Masterlist For Damn Those Dog Tags

#horseshoegirlwrites #damnthosedogtags #controlled chaos squad #damn those dog tags #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #Spotify #top gun fanfic #top gun one shot #fuck you bradshit #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw oneshot #damn those dog tags spin off #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster angst #rooster smut #rooster top gun #tgm #top gun rooster #top gun maverick #top gun fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #spin off #Bradley Bradshaw Oneshot

[im--never--happy]

I really fundamentally cannot understand how and why the avatar fandom has been sleeping on Mako. Especially with all the Zuko love. People love an angsty sad boi who just wants to do the right thing. And by god if that is not Mako I don’t know what is. Like. Mako as a character is soooo fucking angstable. So much angst potential right there. But fandom just collectively ignores him (or else hates on him for no fucking reason). Is he perfect? Of course not, but Zuko is so insanely far from perfect and all of Zuko’s wrongdoings so far surpass any of Mako’s. Yet fandom easily forgives Zuko, resident sad boi, for his actual fucking crimes (kyoshi village didn’t burn itself down, Song’s ostrich horse didn’t steal itself, Sparky Sparky Boom—I mean Combustion Man didn’t hire himself—lmao) in favor of focusing on his trauma and angst (don’t get me wrong I am an absolute slut for angst and complex nuanced discussions of trauma in fictional characters, and Zuko is such an amazing vessel for my insatiable thirst for angst. But. SO!! IS!!! MAKO!!!!!). But Mako doesn’t get that treatment. He’s vilified for his significantly less bad mistakes. And it makes no actual fucking sense. Because he is so primed for angst and he has insane amounts of trauma. And he’s so sweet. He just loves the people in his circle so fucking much, he just wants to do right by them, he just wants to protect them and keep them safe, and also fucking save the goddamn world. Jfc. He’s sooo GOOD. And the crazy thing is that he’d actually be a better fit for a lot of the specific angst and character traits people want to project onto Zuko that actually aren’t in line with Zuko’s character. Like when people write how Zuko is so humble and doesn’t think he deserves anything and is so intrinsically kind and patient and gentle. And that’s just… not canon Zuko at all. Canon Zuko is impatient and loud and shouts and so insanely fucking proud. He was raised a prince thinking he deserved everything because he was royalty. And yes yes so much abuse and lack of self worth and trauma. Yes obviously. But Zuko expects (or at least expected) people to give him things or do things for him because he was royalty. At least at one point. He doesn’t know how to cook or take care of himself or other people, because he’s always had people doing that for him, at least to a certain degree (I’m not saying the ship banishment was luxury but he still absolutely had a crew that did a lot of shit, like cooking and day to day grunt work for him). Whereas Mako IS humble and soft spoken and quiet and gentle. He never raises his voice with bolin and never lashes out in anger. Bolin and Korra say hurtful unfair and unkind shit to him, and he just fucking takes it. He doesn’t shout or throw insults back. He just accepts their anger and criticims and still fights to help and protect them. He is self reliant and raised his younger brother alone since they were both homeless orphans. He can cook. He also doesn’t think he deserves better when people treat him like shit, because he’s always been treated like shit. (Hello self worth self-loathing angst potential galore!!) Mako is everything that a lot of fandom want Zuko to be and he has endless potential for sad boi trauma angsting. But he gets hated for no fucking reason while Zuko gets idolized. And it makes no fucking sense and drives me absolutely fucking nuts

#Wow that was a long rant #Avatar #legend of korra #atla #lok #mako #zuko #atla meta #lok meta #mako meta #Zuko meta #Damn I had a lot of thoughts and feelings on this #Lmao #mako angst #Zuko angst #can someone please just fucking write some goddamn Mako angst #That’s really all I’m asking for #I don’t want to have to write my own fics lmao #Mako lok

[guardian-angle22]

TK/Carlos + Touch

↳ 1.03 Texas Proud

#911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tk/carlos + touch #is this the Most Iconic™ tarlos scene?? might be controversial to say but i think it might be #this was The Moment when you realize oh these two have a fucking connection #the EYE CONTACT #hot damn #also i heard people wanted angst today so I figured this was the perfect set to post for today #tw: blood #my gifs #episode: s01e03 texas proud

[crybaby-bkg]

I went to a wedding like a month ago and started a wip about a wedding meet cute with Bakugou that was supposed to be like 2-3k words but never finished it and I’m so mad bc it should be easy but school was so hard and UGH

but!!!!! it made me think about being friends with benefits with Bakugou and having just finished sleeping with him, rolling off of his chest as you both lay beside each other trying to catch your breaths. and you ask him if he’d like to go to to your friends wedding with you next weekend? that he doesn’t have to come, but you’d like to have some arm candy with you?

and at first, he doesn’t answer. gets kind of fidgety, scratches at his chest, murmurs under his breath that he’s not sure, he might have a shift, he’ll have to check later. and how can you not take that as a rejection? as a show of only being good enough for private time spent together, but unable to be seen together, publicly, as his date?

so you gather your things, quickly and embarrassed, stutter out that you were just joking, just fucking around and playing. you’re scurrying out of his apartment before he can stop you despite his pleading to hear him out.

and do you ignore him the entire weekend of the wedding? how couldn’t you, when you show up, dateless, with the memory of only being filled sexually but never emotionally? and does Bakugou regret it the entire time? how couldn’t he, when he was only tongue tied and nervous because he couldn’t believe the person he’s been in love with for months wanted to do more than just lie underneath him?

#is this angst? #possibly…… #I’m so frikin sleepy I can’t this took me like half an hour to write bc I kept closing my eyes #I also feel poopy bc I think I have ANOTHER fucking ear infection UGH!!!!!!! #everything sucks #anyway I’m gonna finish that damn wedding meet cute if it’s the last thing I do #I’ve been thinking about posting long fics on here and like making banners n stuff for it #but for EVERY fic???? omg that’s so much work #okay bye I wanna read a little before I crash #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬

[ghost-likes-drawing]

Tallulah can't rely on any of her dads can she? God damn

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp philza #qsmp tallulah angst #qsmp tallulah #like I know missa likes her and hasn't hurt her #but he's unreliable to be there even for Chay even though he wants to be there #she hasn't seen Wilbur in almost a year #and now Philza has screamed at her and tried to hurt her #this poor fucking egg #god damn #Chayanne should have threatened to kill Phil tbh #'if you hit her again #I'll kill you' #but he is a kid #and that is his dad #so toning it down is fair #Chayanne being more loyal to tallulah then anyone is really important to me #love these eggs