#this will probably be my last Long comic for now because school started again and i dont have much free time anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astermath · 1 year

Text

"So? Whatever." Pt.2

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: after closing a deal with dave to let you borrow his comics while he pretends to tutor you, he finally comes over to your house. he’s confronted with the fact that despite your reputation of being damn near perfect, you have your own insecurities and issues. you’re confronted with how much you enjoy his company, despite having your reservations about him before.

word count: 2.4K

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

notes: thank you for the likes and the reblogs, I really appreciate it! I really enjoy writing for this reader, there’s something so fun about being able to be so playfully mean. Please let me know if you’d like a part 3, and comments are greatly appreciated too!

[unknown]: hi, it’s dave! hope I typed in the right number lol

You look at your phone as it buzzed, squinting to see if you recognized the contact as you dried your hair off from the shower. You sat down on your bed and swiped up, smiling at the name. At least he didn’t forget to text. You saved his number under a new contact and started typing a reply.

[y/n]: sorry, I know a lot of daves. are you the one from the party last saturday, or the one from the football game?

[dave]: lizewski? the one who lent you the venom comic? brown hair, glasses?

You grinned to yourself, laying down on your stomach on the bed.

[y/n]: I’m just messing with ya, nerd. I remember you, how could I possibly forget?

[dave]: right

[dave]: sorry

[dave]: could you send me the address? and what type of comics you want me to bring?

You sent him your location and a couple of screenshots of your favorite franchises.

[y/n]: think you can work with that?

[dave]: yeah, totally! I’ll be there at 2 on saturday, is that ok?

[y/n]: totes, see ya then x

Dave stared down at his phone, eyes fixated on the little “x” you added to your last text. Everything from that day had already felt surreal, and now he was actually texting you. Or, well, he assumed so. This could all very well still be part of some really shitty prank, but you did seem genuine in your request. And what kind of guy would he be to just assume you were out to get him, just like all the others?

A smart one, probably.

But it was too late for second thoughts now, as he stood in front of the driveway to your house. It was huge, nothing like the houses in his neighborhood. He guessed that’s what all that lawyer money was good for. He walked up to the front door, his hand shaking a little as he reached out to ring the bell. He heard footsteps, taking a deep breath in and mentally prepared himself to be met by you as the door opened.

Instead, he was met by the eyes of an older man, slightly taller than him, who seemed less than pleased to see him at his front door. He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he looked him up and down. “Can I help you, son?”

Dave gulped, hands getting clammy inside his coat’s pockets. He was not ready to be confronted by your dad, especially because he’s the one you were primarily hiding things from. “I-I’m here to tutor—”

“My daughter?” He cut him off before he could say your name. “You the kid that’s tutoring her?”

“Y-Yes sir, that’s me.” He pulled out his hand, silently cursing himself for not wiping it on his pants before because of how sweaty it was.

Your father looked down at his hand, but before he could even shake it, your voice was heard from behind him. “Daddy, that’s for me!” You walked down the stairs, making eye contact with Dave as he tried not to melt right then and there because of what you were wearing. He usually saw you wear your cute, well put together outfits at school, but seeing you in your cute comfy shorts, with your hair put up… He only realized he was staring when your dad addressed him again.

“Alright, get inside. And shoes off.”

He obliged, quickly taking his shoes off as your dad walked back into the living room.

Not long after, he was met with the sight of your room. Shelves adorned with trophies, a vanity, a queen sized bed with a TV in front of it, a plush sofa, and a huge closet… He was pretty sure he’s seen whole apartments less nice than your room. But nevermind that, he was in a girl’s room, in your room. That was intimate no matter the scenario.

You sat down on your desk chair, legs crossed as you turned it on its wheels to face the boy scanning your room. He looked like he had landed in another dimension, eyes wide as he examined his surroundings.

“What’s so interesting?” You asked, not sure if he was looking for something or if he was just genuinely this impressed by your room.

“You have… A lot of trophies…” He fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.

You looked over to the shelf, smiling proudly. “All from cheering.” You pointed to the tiara on the shelf above it. “Besides that one.”

He remembers when you won prom queen in your junior year, though he’s not sure if he’d count that as a trophy. He’d never tell you that, though.

“So, you gonna give me my comics or are you just here to inspect my private property?”

Your comment snapped him out of his daydreaming and he quickly took off his backpack to take out a plastic bag filled with comics. “I-I didn’t know which ones you wanted specifically, so… I just took all the ones from the franchises you showed me.” He took the pile out of the bag and you got up to take them from him.

“Careful, it’s—“

Your arms almost gave out to the sheer heft of the pile before he caught them. “Jesus christ Dave!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise they weighed that much combined!” He looks panicked, hoping you didn’t hurt yourself when the weight pulled you down.

“You carried these all the way here?” You looked at him in shock. There was no way he was that strong, not without you knowing about it. “What are you, some kind of secret body builder?” You watched him put the pile down on your desk, seeing the muscles in his forearm. Maybe you were wrong, you just hadn’t been paying as much attention to Dave as you apparently should have been.

He avoided the question, simply sitting down on the carpeted floor across you with his back against the side of your bed. Frankly, he knew he’d be better off saying nothing when it came to his physique, afraid it might reveal too much relating to his vigilante activities.

You looked through the pile, finding the sequel to the previous comic you had borrowed from him and pulling it out. Dave took his own comic book out of his backpack, and when he looked back at you, something had clearly changed.

Your face was now adorned with a pair of round, thinly rimmed glasses.

He blinked a few times to make sure his own eyes weren’t deceiving him, but no, he was seeing things right.

You look up from your page and raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“You wear glasses.” He said, eyes fixated on your face. His usual aversion to eye contact seemed to have vanished all of a sudden.

“What?” You realized you hadn’t thought about it when you put them on. You didn’t usually have company over while you were reading stuff. “Oh.” Your face suddenly felt a lot warmer, embarrassment washing over you. “Yeah, I uh… I need them to read, at least. I get through the rest of my day without em just fine, they just look so… Stupid.” You paused, looking back at his face and realizing how mean that must have sounded to him. “Not that you look stupid! You look, uh… You look smart! Real smart, it’s just… They don’t suit me and I…His expression hasn’t changed one bit since you had put on your spectacles. You looked so different, in a good way. A really good way.

“Pretty.” He muttered.

“What?” You broke out of your embarrassed rambling.

“I think you look pretty. With the glasses. They suit you.” He smiled demurely, hoping that didn’t gain him some creep points.

You stared back at him. You’d been called hot before, sexy, gorgeous… But hearing him call you pretty, it was something else. There were no intentions behind it, he just needed to say it, like it felt right. You blink, trying to cope with the fact that the nerd you thought you had an upper hand on had turned your brain to mush with a single compliment.

“Yeah, uhm… Whatever…” You went back to reading. “…thanks.”

He smiled to himself as he picked up his own comic book again. You were surprisingly fun to talk to, it was almost as if he didn’t feel like he was getting judged for everything he was saying anymore.

And he could definitely get used to that.

A few hours pass as you both peruse through the pile. The silence is comfortable, only being broken if someone flipped a page or grabbed a new comic. He looked up and saw you holding the Spider-man collector’s edition he took a page out of, seemingly very immersed in the story.

“Do you like Spider-man?” He spoke up, hoping he didn’t annoy you by taking you out of the story.

“Oh, uh…” You adjusted the glasses on your face as they kept slipping down your nose a bit. “Yeah. He’s like… pretty cool I guess.” You had so much to say about him, so much you wanted to gush about, but you couldn’t help but still feel a little ashamed about your interest.

Dave looked at you expectantly. He knew that look, the same look he had whenever someone would call him any type of name at school for being a top shelf dork.

And in that moment, you realised you both had something in common. Except he lived his life unashamedly being a dork, and you were concealing it.

“Alright, so,” You got up from your chair and sat down on the floor next to him, your shoulders touching as you held the comic to your chest. The excitement nearly poured out of you as you couldn’t contain your words, going over everything you liked about him. His background, his personality, his originally handmade suit, his unique powers…

Dave watched you speak with a dreamy smile on his face, your face glowing with happiness. He never thought you’d looked more beautiful, just unapologetically being yourself in front of him. He didn’t once try to interrupt you, he wouldn’t dare to, you just looked so cute gushing about this comic book hero.

“And the fact that… He’s just some kid, right?” You looked into his eyes as he nodded along with you. “Like, he never got any special training, or fancy gear, or anything like that. He could have lived every day of his life pretending he never got bitten by that spider, and live happily ever after, but no! He took matters into his own hands, because he wanted to make a change, because he cared about the people around him.” You smiled, not realizing you had grabbed Dave’s arm and were squeezing it a little to emphasize your words.

He blushed, feeling like that description fit his own endeavors pretty well. He looked into your eyes and for a second, felt the urge to lean in. It took about as much strength as it did to carry those comics to not do so.

You let go of his arms and held your legs close your chest. “But that upside down kiss with MJ… That’s gotta be bullshit. There’s no way you can kiss someone like that.”

“I don‘t know,” Dave responded. “I feel like it would be kinda fun. It doesn’t look that hard.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know?” You turned your head to look at him and gave him a cocky grin.

His face flushed pink and he regretted saying what he said. He just gave you the perfect bait to tease the ever living hell out of him. “W-Well, I… I can imagine that… From my experience… It’s…” He stammered.

You let out a soft giggle, amused at his embarrassment. “You’ve never kissed a girl, have you?”

Dave gulped, words stuck in his throat. But you had opened up so much to him, it wouldn’t be fair to not do the same. “I, uhm… No. I haven’t.” He let out a bit of a defeated chuckle.

An idea sprung alive in your head, a dangerous but intriguing glint in your eyes as you bit your lower lip slightly.

“Would you want to?”

Dave had heard you say a lot of shocking things, but that might just take the cake. His cheeks burned hot as the blood rushed to his face, his hands staying steady on his own thighs to not show they were trembling a little. He didn’t know what to say, this was all happening so quickly.

Before he could respond, you were leaning in, eyes on his soft lips, only inches apart—

“Sweetie! Come down for dinner!”

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled back, looking at Dave before glancing over at the door. Thank god they didn’t come up to knock, that would have been the death of you. You take a deep breath and get up, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same. “You should uh… Probably head out.”

He sat there a bit longer than he should have, a million thoughts going through his head before the sound of your voice finally got through to him. “Right, sorry… Don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” He gathered his comics and went downstairs with you to put on his shoes and coat again.

You opened the door for him and he looked back at you to say goodbye. “Thanks for having me over, I had a good time. I hope you did too.” He smiled shyly, hands in his pockets.

You smiled back, reaching up to ruffle his brown curls. “Don’t mention it. And don’t die on the way back, shit’s dangerous out there these days.”

He nodded, giving you a quick wave before heading out, the feeling in his chest warming up his entire body. He felt like he could take on anything, a feeling that would absolutely come in handy later when he’d be face to face with New York’s criminals.

You went back upstairs and sat down at your desk, noticing he’d left something. It was the special collector’s edition you’d been gushing about earlier. You ran your fingers across the damaged front page, smiling to yourself.

Dave was looking in the mirror, adjusting his costume a little and checking if he had everything he needed with him. A buzz of his phone got his attention, and a giddy boyish grin spread across his face.

[y/n]: so, same time next week? xx

@nephilimsss

(lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this fic and other dave lizewski works!!)

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satoruhour · 10 months

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IDK IF U WILL SEE THIS OR ANYTHING BUT! is it ok if i request smth small and it starts off with gojo and the reader having a lil bit of banter by text, and the reader then says “satoru ur so pretty u should start a kissing booth for easy money” (as a joke ofc) and he was like “good idea” and went offline, making the reader freak out for the rest of the day until they came back to their apartment….. and found satoru set up a whole kissing booth in their living room

a/n: this is so cute!!! ty for the request anon <3 in this megumi is under satoru’s and reader’s care, tsumiki never went into a coma, and you’re married too / 1.3k

you loved satoru’s compliance. when you tell him that he should never cook again as a joke, he listens with a wide grin and a face that’s burnt on one side, sweeping the hard charcoal pieces of pancake into a pan. when you tell him you have two left feet, he simply laughs and just plops you onto his own, making you look like a fool waddling around.

a lovesick fool.

you’re left smiling into open space until a notification cuts you out of your daze, smile twisting into a questionable expression as your husband sends a picture of him posing in front of some boba tea shop, a promotional banner stating get spanked by one of our staff and get a free cup of boba tea!

[9:17am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: bet i’ll do it

[9:18am, delivered]: satoru. now. youll do it even if i dont bet you???!!?!!?!!

[9:18am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: hmm… compelling argument, i’m afraid you’re correct

a few minutes pass and you are confident it’s him asking for a spank with a blinding smile on his face, probably pointing to one of the male staff because i have a wife at home, y’know? she’s so pretty and hot-headed and hot and—

[9:20am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: photo attached

boba acquired 😈😈😈😈

[9:21am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: oh yeah, one of the staff called me pretty. was a guy btw. had to flash him one of my peace signs and i just know he swooned

the raise of your eyebrows returned, though you stifle a chuckle.

[9:21am, delivered]: he did not swoon i promise you

and another picture comes in, his face all up in the camera with a comical pout on his face and your laughter comes out more freely this time, basically hearing the looks you’re getting from the commuters in the subway, though your eyes are only focused on satoru, on the curvature of his lips and the peek of his baby blues behind the sunglasses you bought for him.

[9:22am, delivered]: joking. you’re so pretty, you know that right

years ago you would’ve told yourself that it’ll only fuel his ego, but that was long before gojo satoru had decided you were everything and more; where he values everything you say, where you’re all he worships. one compliment from you could shut him up forever.

[9:23am, delivered]: you should totally start a kissing booth for like …. $4 a kiss or something

it’ll be easy money ngl and then we can share the gains

[9:23am, the strongest and handsomest and coolest husband 🩵]: woah… good idea baby. alright then!

and gojo satoru goes offline immediately, leaving you left out in the cold, confused and perplexed when the satoru??? where the hell did you go??? texts fail to be read. it’s not often he does it, usually sending you a plethora of hearts or some stupid ugly sticker before the conversation ends. on the way to the school, you’re continually texting him, too, looking way more distracted than you would like to be in front of the students.

“sensei? any reason why you keep checking your phone?” yuji asks after lunch in the classroom, both arms tucked under his head.

“hm?” you answer but your eyes are still glued to the screen, the taunting ‘last seen at 9:23am’ taunting you endlessly and megumi looks like he has half a mind to just blurt it out, but he thinks it’s worth seeing your reaction later as he takes one more look at his adoptive father’s updates, sending picture after picture of his progress and he keeps the device tucked under to avoid any suspicion.

[14:09pm, my terrible father figure i guess]: do NOT !!!! SEND THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE . i wll literally humiliate you in training later if you do

megumi sighs.

[14:10pm delivered]: don’t you already? also stop texting me loser she’ll find out

the raven-haired boy later is left to comfort you later when you’re holding onto the phone a little too tightly, and by then you’ve already gone through every possible thought. satoru dying, satoru meeting a curse that’s higher than a special grade, satoru on a rampage to kill the higher-ups, satoru—

“you’re going to die worrying about gojo-sensei like that.” and you roll your eyes, hand fishing around in your bag for the keys to your shared home while your eyes never leave megumi. it’s been like this for as long as you can remember: you being the voice of reason, megumi taking your rambles like he always has, gojo usually just laughs.

“yeah? well? how could i not?” you fumble with your keys and pick out the right one, putting it in the keyhole easily from the many times you’ve done it and you swing open the door, “not when he’s the strongest who has to take care of so many things without any rest! what if he got distracted and took down infinity? what if he—”

and sometimes you hated gojo’s compliance (you’re lying to yourself).

upon opening the door, the living room was full of cardboard boxes and cut out shapes, paint over the floor and on his jujutsu uniform, an all-knowing, but still stunning grin that you wanted to slap off of him. the chaos of the cardboard led to one thing: a small counter completed with a tip jar, his free cup of boba tea and a large sign that said kissing booth: $4 for a smooch!

and a smaller sentence is parenthesis, ‘free for my baby.’ the statement almost, almost gets you but you manage to ask him in a monotonous voice, “what are you doing, gojo satoru?”

“hi…?” megumi smiles secretly to himself before closing the door for you, putting the keys in your outstretched hand and it’s sort of the routine the three of you fall into everyday now. alas, with tsumiki staying in her university’s dorms, it was a little lonely for megumi, but the two of you were enough entertainment for him.

“well i was just listening to you!” gojo gestured to the whole place, which will probably be a pain to clean up, “who can blame my silly little brain for wanting to do a project to make my wife happy?”

you cross your arms in retaliation, but in all honestly, you wanted nothing but to greet the sorcerer with an embrace, something you’ve been meaning to do since your worrisome attitude from the morning. reluctantly, you frown while you make your way to the makeshift counter, immediately leaning forward before satoru puts a finger on your lips with a teasing smile.

“ah! four dollars please!”

bonus

“i was really worried, y’know,” the words are muffled from the way you’re buried in his neck that night, inhaling the scent that you missed all day. it’s summer in japan at the moment, but you find yourself craving his skin more than ever, a hand going up to brush through his stark white hair.

“’m sorry, baby,” satoru pulls away from you, as with you, sending you a small smile before pecking your forehead, “i promise to tell you what i’m up to from now on.”

you lean forward to close the gap, and all the kisses you exchanged earlier were definitely not enough. softly, your arms wrap around his shoulders while a leg goes over his body, gojo sounding out a little surprised hum at your eagerness. smiling into the kiss, satoru only plants more kisses to your nose, your lids, to your eyebrows and your chin, and another gentle one to your lips.

“even if it’s arts and crafts or maybe attempting to make you some strawberry tarts.”

you slap his chest lightly, a faux shocked expression filling your features, “i thought we agreed no more strongest sorcerer in the kitchen?”

“of course, sweet girl,” satoru lands one last deep kiss to show you truly the extent of his love. but even then, he knew it wasn’t enough, so he hoped, at least his words were, “i only ever listen to your voice — none else matters.”

i love him

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dreamerdeity · 7 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀

*ೃ𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem. Reader

*ೃ𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.8k

*ೃ𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: You're at constant odds with your long-time academic rival Megumi Fushiguro. You swear up and down you hate his guts, and a lost bet on your part only further adds salt to the wound when you find out he's outranked you yet again. But when he finds you at a barren classroom after school, he offers you a different way to pay off what you owe.

*ೃ𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Hair-pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), face-fucking, mean-ish Megumi, cursing, choking, slight degrading kink. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, others, please proceed at your own risk!

*ೃ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Hi babes I'm finally back from the dead fr this time (i'm lying) and ready to finish up the kinktober series. I've been having a Megumi phase recently (i think a more accurate statement would be "jjk men phase") and just had to include him because the academic rival Megumi concept has been eating at my brain for months. Anywayssss, as always, please do not report my work! If you are uncomfortable, do not read.

⇄ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Stupid. Utterly stupid and almost comical is what this is, and a terrible way to end your last year of school at that. Especially after all the relentless hard work and sleepless nights you've put in, but you're thinking maybe, just maybe if you hadn't overplayed your hand so rashly, you wouldn't be stuck in this infuriating predicament right now, staring up at the big blue letters on the wall in silent mortification as throngs of students stride purposefully away from you, knowing not to agitate a ticking bomb during tragic times like these.

He beat you by a whisker, that damned Megumi Fushiguro, that's what you tell yourself. No, actually scratch that. He was bound to beat you and now you're reaping what you sowed, because just what were you thinking last week? Strutting over to the conceited dickhead and betting on the so called "guaranteed prospect" (your own words) of outranking him once finals season closed at last. Not so guaranteed now, it seems, as this stupid list hangs haphazardly taped onto the wall, glaring back at you like it had eyes of its own, almost like it's taunting you.

Number 4.

Your eyes dart indignantly over the chart, hoping your name would magically climb up to first and free you of an inevitable and very awkward (more likely than not, also heated) encounter with Megumi later. Megumi, who so conveniently happened to place not one, not two, but a whopping three places above you, and now it was only a matter of time before he joined the huddle of students by the wall with a chin so high and a face so smug it would make for the perfect punching bag. He'll probably clear his throat, side eye you with a stupid smirk, then proceed to finish what the list started, taunting and jibing at you some more.

Frankly, you don't even have the money you promised in the event that you lost the bet to him, because you were so certain you'd make it. I mean, you've done it before—countless times before—so why was this happening? Why did he have to—

Speak of the devil.

Much to your dismay, a familiar scent of orchid and freshly-brewed coffee faintly weaves its way into the air and saturates your surroundings out of the blue, one that preceded Megumi wherever he went, and at this point it has become almost distressing to catch a whiff of it. A scent that immediately ignited your fight-or-flight-response. You're not so sure how long you've been disassociating here, but Megumi has taken stand beside you, humming thoughtfully, not a word leaving his mouth as his eyes leisurely scan over the senior class ranking list, too leisurely almost, like he was fully expecting this. Talk about conceited.

You know he wants to break you, to silently chip at your confidence until you can't bear but say something unprovoked, because he loves, loves antagonizing you, seeing you get all worked up with a pout and a grip to his collar, though you've become progressively harder to irritate lately and he hasn't really been able to come to terms with it for some reason. Either because your ignoring him bruises his pride, or because—Actually no, that's the only reason, he thinks.

The oppressive silence on his part is almost suffocating, and you make a point of letting out a loud exasperated sigh, arms crossed, your eyes focused ahead and foot tapping against the rubber flooring, intent on standing your ground and not yielding to his patronizing stare. Megumi looks down at you from the corner of his eye, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek in an attempt to suppress the growing smirk that tugs at his lips, which fails terrifically and only further agitates you. There's a mutual and silent understanding between the two of you that the rankings on the wall spoke for themselves—as much as you hate to admit it.

"Would you fucking stop that?"

"Oh so you can see me." Asshole. He bites back as his lips finally break into the grin he's been holding in this whole time, full attention on you now that you've given him something to work with. "I didn't say anything though."

"You were eventually going to."

"I wasn't."

"Move."

This is the last thing you need at a time like this. Fuck grades, Fuck this. Fuck him. You're turning on your heel and brushing past him harshly, and had you been looking at Megumi, you'd have noticed that haughty exterior of his breaking ever so slightly, face falling, but he expertly regains his bearings in a beat, as the teasing nudges of his friends and his snickering fade behind your retreating figure. You maneuver through the crowded hallway and pray he'd have enough sense in him to leave you alone right now. Just this once. Just long enough for you to digest the bitter disappointment bubbling within you. Star student. You hated that term, and yet here you were sulking over someone else snatching the childish title away. Constantly holding yourself to such high standards that bordered on unrealistic rendered you academically insatiable, and there was only one other person who matched your fervor. Him, and fuck was it annoying, unsettling even.

"Hey, I still haven't had my fun yet. Where're you going?" Megumi trots through the students, the slight curl of his lips not faltering as he catches up to you with a little skip to his step. Of course he'd be giddy. Who wouldn't be after placing first out of the entire senior class—Placing above you?

"Fuck you, Megumi." You really, really don't need this right now, and you're spitting the words out venomously, picking up your pace and hoping to somehow out-speed him before he gets to speak his stupid mind.

He ignores your petulant front and carries on regardless, of course he does. When has he ever heeded your warnings, really? A sardonic grin is plastered across his face as he cocks his head to the side, snorting childishly at your sullen face. "Quit moping. I was gonna outrank you whether you liked it or not." The sing-songy lilt to his voice has you reaching for his collar, but he roughly swats your hand away, pretend-dusting off his shoulder as he continues in mock sympathy with slow, solemn nods to himself. "But man, I saw that calc grade of yours. A 75, was it? Must be tough."

Asshole, part two.

If passive-aggressive were a living, walking person, you're sure it would be him, lock, stock, and barrel. He's so unbothered about the whole situation too, and it's that toxic indifference that makes you feel as though you owe him some kind of response, that makes you grit your teeth in irritation, fist so ready to meet his jaw if it wasn't for your honorable reputation. You find yourself trying to come up with some bogus justification as to why you failed so miserably (in your eyes, that is), anything to save whatever face you've got left, because god knew he wasn't the only one with a massive ego around here.

"Have you got nothing better to do, huh? Always attached to my hip like you're obsessed with me or something. Get a fucking life." No justification leaves your mouth, just...whatever the hell that was, and you watch him narrowly as you lean against the doorframe of your next class, and his eye twitches. Right, he loves antagonizing you, but he just remembered how much he hates the part where you do it back.

"That's rich coming from you." Megumi gives you his signature customer service smile, the one you've come to see on him when you know he's practically seething underneath the surface. Fun.

"Ahh spike hair is mad."

"Mad about what? You're the one with a B in calc. A terrible rank too."

"You're justifying. You're mad."

"I'm not?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does it hurt your fragile ego when I point out a truth you can't deny?"

Man, he could really use a coffee right now; Caffeine-induced palpitations seem much more pleasant than these ones your big mouth with its noxious words are giving him, but he just stares down at you, silent, expression unreadable, features etched into something you can't quite understand, and you almost begin to feel small under his scrutiny, how he venomously chews you up and spits you out with his eyes alone.

A few long beats of unwavering eye contact and, "You're annoying as hell." He grunts out finally and slumps his shoulders a little, features falling back into their usual neutrality as he turns to walk away. A hypocrite, you think. I mean, he's been psychologically terrorizing you for the past four years—well, maybe that's a little too dramatic of a way to put it—but every time you bit right back at him, he'd get all sulky like some melodramatic kid who was denied ice cream. Well surprise, two can fucking play his game.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You think the day couldn't have gone any slower as you pack your belongings. You want to head back home immediately and have the longest nap of the year, but there's a distant voice in the back of your head that nags at you to do some calculus practice somewhere until the horde of departing students charging through the hallway dissipates. The crowded premises are not really why you find yourself hunching over the desk solving math problems at some empty classroom you've never been inside before though, and you know that.

Much to your chagrin, you let Megumi's passing comments get to you—for the hundredth time probably, but who's counting? There's not much you can do to fix that abomination of a grade on your calc final, but what you can do is put in work to make sure it never happens again, to make sure you beat him next time, and so you labor away. Unrelenting focus blocks out the noise of thudding backpacks and empty chatter for what doesn't feel like long at all. It takes one raise of your head toward the window for you to see that you've royally lost track of time, the amalgam of pinks and oranges swirling above the clouds and painting the classroom in soft, warm sheens of amber.

You lean your arms over the desk, burying your face in between them with a satisfied exhale, you've made progress. You can tell. Great, that's great—

Never mind, this isn't great; A muffled racket somewhere in the hallway seeps lightly through the cracked door and scatters your train of thought. Megumi and his clique have probably just left debate club, you think. The clacking of boots against rubber draws closer, and you recognize the footsteps. Is it weird that you can recognize the rhythm of his footsteps.

Definitely weird, yeah. Or maybe it's survival instincts.

"Look who it is." Megumi lightly kicks the door open, very unceremoniously, hands stuffed in his pockets as he saunters inside, absently rolling a taffy around his mouth.

Here we go again."What?"

He shrugs, "Last time I checked this was public property. Do I need permission to be within your vicinity or somethin'?" He slowly strides toward the back of the class where you're seated, eyes narrowing a little in amusement as he halts in front of your desk and leans down to your eye-level. "Besides, don't you owe me a couple hundred?"

Right, the bet...

"So you're here for the money."

"Mhm."

"Well I don't have it. I'll get it tomorrow, so you're free to leave. Also, it's kind of embarrassing of you coming in here to beg for a couple hundred yen."

"Huh..." He exhales softly, still chewing on that taffy that seems to never melt away and standing back upright. He's watching you from head to toe, silently—again. He fucking does that a lot. And you're pretty vexed at his lack of reaction toward your jab, scoffing in annoyance and rising from your seat, mirroring his eyes with a scrutinizing glare of your own.

"Yeah, you're right." He finally says, and it takes you a moment to process the impossible declaration. Did he just agree with you? Where's the silver lining? There's got to be one somewhere, right?

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know... I was thinking," Megumi trails off under his breath as he rounds the table slowly, hands still stuffed in the warmth of his tailored pockets. His gaze is searing, predatory almost, like he could pounce on you at any given moment and do to you whatever he pleased—whatever that may be—with no witnesses to lend their testament, no saviors and no teachers to reprimand him for his tactics. He doesn't elaborate on what he said yet, stepping forward once, twice, thrice, as you step back in response. Until you're practically cornered against the wall. "We could forget about the money. I've got a different prize for me in mind."

Ah, there it is. The silver lining.

His ambiguous words stir something hot within you. Dread, yes, but also something else you'd rather not think about, because this is fucking weird. It's weird how your thoughts immediately drifted there. It's weird how whatever snide remark you wished to spew at him was swallowed back in apprehension. And it's weird how your heart stuttered so bad against your chest at his proximity.

"Cat got your tongue?" Megumi tilts his head to the side. He's so close, so close you can smell the caramel on his breath, see the lone freckle dusting the bridge of his nose.

You're shaking yourself out of the momentary stupor and raising your chin in defiance. "That still doesn't explain what you mean."

"I mean..." His voice dips lower, as if afraid of breaking the tension that's weaved itself around the two of you. He doesn't finish, only plucking his hands out of his pockets and bringing one to languidly trace along your jaw, slowly, softly, out of character. You're frozen in your spot, looking up at him with quizzical features and an unbearable heat where his fingers brush against your skin.

Megumi wasn't so sure when the distant but awfully persistent voice in his head took over his reason, but what he was very sure about was what he's about to do next. His hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side and leaning dangerously close. His breath is fanning over your jaw, and he nudges it with his nose, then trailing back up until his lips are hovering over yours again, and he waits. Unmoving, lingering, and well, fuck it. Fuck this. You don't resist, you don't push him away, you let him, pressing your lips to his as roughly as he does his to yours, briefly savoring the sweet taste of taffy that seeps against your mouth.

"Mmph..." Megumi groans all muffled and almost desperate if it wasn't for the rough grip he had to the nape of your neck, forcibly slipping his tongue into your mouth with no warning, no care as to whether you want him to or not, because you were his prize after all. Not the other way around. His hands fall to roam over your body, toying with your clothed breasts and squeezing harder over them when he hears your initial yelp of surprise dissipate down to a whimper.

How perfect your lips felt against his, how pretty you looked all flushed and disoriented. Right, pretty. Why had he never taken the time to absorb your features before? Carve them into his mind like a sculptor enamored by the dents and ridges of his stone? He was stuck in a loop of competitive attitude and haughty remarks, ego so high up it clouded all else that swirled in his mind. He doesn’t voice any of these thoughts, or more so refuses to do so. He was extremely reticent about this sort of thing. About everything, really, because admitting to them out loud will make you the winner in this situation. He doesn’t want that. He never does. He’s got to stay on top, in more ways than one, come to think of it right now, so he pulls away, panting lightly, lips still hovering over yours as he hisses against them. "Get down."

...?

The brazen request hangs in the air for a moment, nothing but the faded buzzing of the air conditioner reverberating throughout the classroom.

"W-what?" You stare at him blankly, registering, an oppressive silence engulfing the two of you. You don't think you heard that right, or, put a little more accurately, you didn't want to think you heard that right. You know exactly just what he means, yet you can't help the way your eyes widen and your brow furrows at the implication of his very straightforward order, because frankly you thought he just wanted to make out, but damn it he wants more.

"'Said get down." He repeats. Simply. Like his request was the most obvious thing in the world with the way he shrugs at you so nonchalantly, eyeing you down like you were stupid to think he wasn't going to push further. So entitled, and it almost offends you. Almost.

You scoff bitterly, shaking your head at him incredulously as your eyes bore into his, neither of you faltering in the slightest as you engage in some sort of staring contest, some wordless battle of attrition to make the other yield compliantly. You stare up at him. He stares down at you for what feels like hours, quirks an eyebrow when you don't budge, and just as he's about to open his mouth and say something that'll irritate you even more, you plop down to your knees with a disgruntled sigh.

To say Megumi was surprised would be an understatement. I mean, he tried, like really tried to act unbothered by your pliant gesture, to compose himself a little better, but fuck did the sight of you on your knees for him make him hard. He can't help the pink that creeps up his cheeks when you look up at him, sniggering at the disoriented look on his face. So fucking embarrassing, he thinks, and turns away with a click of his tongue, the back of his hand lathered over the lower half of his face.

" 'Fuck are you looking at?" He snaps at you a little too defensively, hoping the faux irritation laced into his voice was convincing enough.

"Isn't this what you wanted? What else am I supposed to look at?" You cock your head with an innocent grin (malicious would be a better term, he knew you better than anybody around here after all), only adding salt to the wound.

"You're annoying as hell."

"Yeah, you've said that only like a million times but you're fucking worse." You bite back as you always do, but this time you earn a hard tug to the back of your hair from Megumi. Grip unfaltering, he yanks it upward and leans down toward your face. It startles you, the sudden change in dynamic. "Fuckin' hate when you talk back to me. Gonna shut you up."

You know better than to argue with that, folding your hands in your lap, watching him hook his thumb under the hem of his pants and glide it left to right and back again, other hand still interlaced in your hair. It's uncharacteristic of you, to let him order you around like this, you never let him order you around like this. You've always been the one to abuse your power and tug him by his collar every time he annoyed you, because despite his horrible personality, you knew he'd never raise a hand to a woman. But this? Fuck, you're almost scared to say or do the wrong thing with the way he's glaring freshly sharpened daggers at you, and he notices, he basks in the power trip, he smiles so mean, takes his sweet time unbuckling his belt above you with clanks that echo through the deafening silence of a barren school after sunset.

His belt comes undone, revealing the bulge that strains against his boxers, and at the realization of what you're inevitably about to do, your eyes flit nervously toward the door. A passing thought really, but a thought nonetheless; What if somebody were to walk in right now, to see the ever so cordial, diligent you on her knees for a man she swore up and down she hated? What if—

"You scared?" A taunting lilt to his voice, it's as though he read your mind. Megumi peeks down at you and loosens his grip on the back of your head, pushing it toward him and bringing your face closer to where he wants you most, completely relaxed with not a hint of anxiety in his demeanor.

"Like hell I am." Fuck does he think he is? No, you're not scared, not when he sucks in a breath as your hand comes up to palm at his clothed erection. You're watching him intently, unrelenting gaze scorching through him and scanning his face for even the slightest change in expression. He maintains the eye contact and waits, looks down at where your hand toys with his cock over his boxers, waits for a few long beats to see what you'll do next. You know what he wants, and yet you're not giving it to him. He's not a patient man, shouldn't you know that already? Because just as you're about to say something about making him work for it, he's scoffing loudly, swatting your hand away and retaking the reins.

"This is why I can't let you have shit your way." Megumi pulls his cock out in one swift motion, giving it a few experimental pumps right against your face, barely an inch away and so close you can feel his leaking tip haphazardly poke against your cheek a few times.

"When do you ever?" You mumble bitterly as you meet his eyes. He doesn't return your gaze, not sure if he even heard you, all hazy, pretty eyelashes fluttering down and breath going uneven already as he thumbs his tip and lathers it in precum.

"Okay, open up." He demands a little too breathlessly, and the shake of his voice betrays him as he taps the head of his cock against your lips in coaxing. You're inclined to play stubborn for at least a little while, only for him to shoot you a warning glare that has you reeling back a little, accepting your fate and opening up for him, sticking your tongue out. He pushes past your lips in one smooth motion, giving you no time to adjust to his length, to the tip that hits the back of your throat immediately, and your throat instinctively tightens around him, a muffled gasp escaping you as you claw at his thighs, choking so fucking prettily around his cock already. The sight has Megumi's heart stuttering, and he feels himself twitch in your mouth from the sound you just made alone.

"Haven't even started moving and you're already going stupid. Stay still, will you?" He reaches down to grab either side of your head and pulls out just enough for you to breathe momentarily, before slamming back into your mouth.

"F-fuck..." He grunts softly at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him in full, and he begins to move. In and out, nice and steady. His pace starts out languid almost, and you're not sure if it was out of sensibility toward you or out of his own desire to prolong this as much as possible, too afraid to cum already.

"Gonna go faster—" At least he's considerate enough to tell you, the barer minimum really, but you're too dazed to be offended, nodding your head in encouragement as your hand slides under his shirt, brushing against his stomach and feeling it faintly tense at your touch. You keep your throat relaxed, loose and ready to take him in deeper. The grip on your hair tightens and he picks up his pace to the hilt, thrusting rough and hard into your mouth, desperate, almost pistoning into you, so aggressive with it that tears begin to coat your lash line, drool and precum dribbling down your chin in strings every time he pulls out just to slam right back in.

"Not so—fuck—Not so chatty now, are you?" He grunts out through labored pants, almost sneering down at you with a twitch of his lips, emphasizing his question with a particularly forceful thrust that almost has your head hitting the wall behind you, because if he didn't do that, he knows you'll try to run your mouth all over again, so he shuts you up before you even could, braces himself with a hand on the wall to quell the stutter of his hips and glances down at your teary eyes, your tousled hair, your flushed up cheeks. You're all fucked up. All fucked up just for him, and all docile just for him. When was the last time he's seen you this compliant? Never, honestly—Not toward him, at least. Letting him use you like this to his heart's content? Well boy is he going to exploit the hell out of this newfound power he holds over you.

"Sh-shit...Look at you. What would Gojo-Sensei think if he saw you getting your mouth fucked like a slut? Huh? By me outta everyone." You want to argue, spit some venom in his direction and tell him to drop it. He's rubbing it in your face, this whole thing, and you're fucking mad, helpless. You're digging your nails into his thigh in silent retaliation, and he groans at the burning crescents you etch into his flesh, shakily cursing under his breath. The sounds spilling past his lips are strained and obscene, mingling with the squelch of his wet cock and slapping of his balls against your chin.

The blend of pain and pleasure has Megumi's mind blanking in an instant, all kinds of sensations melding into one and rushing over him like a storm. He's teetering on the edge of release, you can feel it by the way his hips begin to buck erratically into your mouth, thrusts getting sloppier, frenzied, grip on your hair taut and burning. "F-fuck—want it so bad... gonna c-cum. You're gonna take it all—"

You watch his face scrunch up in pleasure as he babbles on, cheeks a pretty, deep pink, raven bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead and grip so tense in your hair that veins bulge along his forearms in spots you've never seen them do before. To think you're the one reducing him into this shaky mess of a man.

"C-cumming—hahh" He warns in passing, and before you know it, you're coughing around him, gagging on his cock as his lashes flutter down to meet your eyes, lips parted, a string of broken whines and choked up groans escaping him, thighs trembling as his knees threaten to buckle above you. "Yes—fuckfuck...f-fuck." He's depleting all that is left of his self-control to stay upright, thrusting rough and shooting a thick, hot rope of cum down your throat, but it's so fucking much that despite doing your best to take it all, some spills past the corners of your lips.

He slows down, pulling his cock out of your mouth, eyes fixated on the string of fluids that connects your lips to his tip like a thin bridge, and you take the deepest breath of your life yet.

"Not too shabby." He quips after catching his breath for a moment.

Now he was just asking for it. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna say after busting up a torrent in like 15 minutes?"

He shakes his head and motions toward the corner of your mouth with a languid smirk, ignoring your loaded comment to save himself the embarrassment. "You got something on your mouth over there. Why don't you lick it away?"

"Don't push it."

"Please."

"No."

"Idiot." Megumi pouts a little, sighing as he turns to tuck himself back into his pants and look presentable, gesturing for you to do the same. You're kind of dazed still, but you take heed and clean yourself up before grabbing your things and making for the door, halting just short of it when you feel Megumi grab your wrist.

"It's getting a little dark. I'll walk you home?" There's a finality in the way he looks at you, your wrist still snug in his grasp.

"I thought I was an idiot."

"Don't worry. You're the smartest idiot I know."

@venusinx

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #𝕂𝔼𝕀ℝ𝔸'𝕊 𝕂𝕀ℕ𝕂𝕋𝕆𝔹𝔼ℝ

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emerxshiu · 1 month

Text

bugs when you lift up a rock

i dont know why but for some reason when i look at liminal spaces i always imagine elfilin there, he didnt have enough invadind my mind huh? now he has to be everywhere i look

but yeah i like imagining him there, i added fecto cuz fecto

also i searched liminal space and found this image, but when i searched again to see who it belonged to so i could credit, i couldnt find it anymore, so if anyone knows who the image i used belongs to, please tell me. and if i need to take the post down because i cant use the image i will take it down.

uh, i completly forgot to say this last post, but school has started like a week ago so dont worry if i suddenly dissapear without any warning, i will come back if that happens, i always come back afterall

also im working on an fanfic again, got in the mood to write yknow? and ofc its about elfilin, because if its not about fecto elfilis or forgo its abt him. lets see how long i can continue before i abandon it cuz im a dumbass and get very lazy after a while. i have the first chapter more or less done, but i also want to make a comic for every chapter too, its the same words, one just has drawings. so im probably going to take a while to upload that

imma leave a small wip here on tumbr, i didnt like it so its unfinished, but theres probably going to be a panel similar to it

i dont have a lot to say this time

Jambuhbye!

#art #fanart #kirby #kirby fanart #kirby gijinka #silly #digital art #firealpaca #liminal spaces #fecto forgo gijinka #fecto forgo #elfilin #elfilin gijinka #gijinka #gikabi #yes that was a fnaf reference its not your imagination

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skzcollision · 10 months

Text

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (7/7)

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Did I ruin you?”

Felix blinks down at you through his lashes, eyes still puffy from sleep. A long beat of silence ensues as he tries to comprehend what you just asked him.

“Ha?” He scrunches up his nose in a way you find comical.

You laugh, then shake your head, turning your face back down. “Nothing. Just– thinking out loud.”

Finally succumbing to the soreness behind your lids, you let them slide back shut.

Your rest is cut short when you feel the sheets rustling and the pillow shifting beneath your head. Felix is too intrigued now to go back to sleep.

“No, talk to me.” He raises himself on his elbow.

You open your eyes, but don’t necessarily meet his. They bounce around, tracing the lines of his cupid’s bow, then his jaw. You rack your brain for a reason as to why you had even asked that in the first place.

It seemed to have slipped out on its own accord, with your thoughts running a mile a minute as you watched your lover rise to consciousness that early morning.

Maybe that question has always been at the back of your mind.

“Like, if we hadn’t met… you’d probably still be going to church, still be living with your parents.” You lock your eyes onto his, lips pulling into a tiny smile. “You’d still be a virgin.”

Air shoots out of his nose and his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “Okay, well you know I was going to move here to the city anyway. School’s in like a week, so what difference does a few more make– and technically, we are both still virgins.” He squints his eyes. “Half virgins.”

“Mm,” you relax beneath his touch as his fingers find your hair. “You get what I’m saying though?”

He shakes his head slowly, his words coming out the same. “Not really.”

You sigh, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard. “Well you don’t really see anyone else anymore– we’re pretty much spending every waking hour together. Have been for like the past few months. And now, every sleeping hour too I guess. I drag you out here to the city, stressing you out with my family problems–“

“Woah, woah…” Felix grasps your hands in his, moving to sit up. He lowers his head to meet your eyes. “What, you think you roped me into this or something?”

“Something like that,” you nod, breathing out unhurriedly. “I doubt this is how you wanted to spend your last few weeks before school starts again.”

“Listen,” he pulls you into his arms, gently prodding your head to lay against his chest.

“I’m here with you, because I want to be. It is not because I feel sorry, or obligated. I spend every moment with you only because I want to. Even when things are tough, even when you get all snappy and bratty with me, I’m still going to want to be here. You understand?”

He lifts your chin, the purest form of sincerity in his eyes when he says, “this is fully my choice.”

You hold his gaze and nod in understanding, almost mesmerized by his words and the look on his face.

A shaky sigh slips past your lips as you muster up a response. “You think I’m bratty?”

His chest reverberates with deep laughter, the sound rolling through your ear. “Yes,” he smiles down at you in admiration. “You are… many things.”

You narrow your eyes, eventually pulling your gaze away when you feel like his is too much to handle. “I don’t know if I should feel insulted or not.”

Truly, you’re more ashamed than anything. You’ve had such a short temper lately, and he has been more than patient with you.

He chuckles, planting a lingering kiss on your hairline. “Feel like going out today?”

A gentle breeze rolls over you, ruffling your hair as you walk alongside the salty sea. The sunset paints the pale blue sky with a pinkish orange hue, warm sand sifting around your bare feet with each step.

Wanting to make the most of the remaining days of your summer, you and Felix spend all day doing touristy things around the city—something you never got the chance of doing despite living nearby all your life.

You have only been here a handful of times and even then, rarely got to do any proper sightseeing. Your parents believed that such activities were a waste of time, and only brought you to the city whenever you needed some new clothes or if you had an important appointment.

A leisure stroll at the beach is just what you need after a long day in the bustling city.

The deep timbre of Felix’s voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk about things for a while now.”

You glance to your side where the golden light hits his profile, highlighting the freckles across his pink-dusted cheeks.

“I’m glad you shared that with me this morning,” he says with a smile.

Your eyes drop to the shimmering sand. “Yeah, sorry. I’m not that good at communicating.”

“I know,” he says. “But is it okay if we keep talking like this?”

You nod, but not without the hesitation showing on your face.

“So what else has been on your mind?”

“Felix… I didn’t mean now.”

“Come on, healing time.” He skips in front of you, holding your sides. “Please? I don’t want you to keep these feelings to yourself. I can feel it stressing you out.”

You draw out a long sigh and meet his eyes, gentle but pleading. “Can we go sit in your car then?”

The walk back is a relatively long and quiet one, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you spill everything that has been weighing on you lately.

A heavy silence settles upon you as you sit side by side, watching the sun kiss the horizon. He doesn’t speak, and only reaches over the console, threading his fingers through yours.

“I guess– I thought all of my problems would be solved if I just got away from my parents, but somehow things are… worse. I just feel more lost than ever, I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know who the hell I am.”

He nods profusely, thumb sliding over the back of your hand. “Yeah, I don’t think people get to know who they are ‘til they’re like in their 40’s, maybe even later. Maybe even never– I mean, that’s not to say you never will.” Felix offers a smile. “Do you think I know what I’m doing?”

To that, you only shrug.

“No one has their life figured out at this age– and even if you make plans, nothing is guaranteed... it’s better to just enjoy and cherish every moment while you still can. Life will work itself out.”

You both fall silent once again as you let his words sink in.

It feels as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, not all at once of course, but at the very least everything that needed to be said has been said.

You have been holding back due to fear—not of being judged by him, but burdening him with your worries. Although you’re beginning to realize that your relationship has taken a hit from your reticence, and you’re grateful for the gentle push Felix has given you to express your feelings.

His hand nudges against yours. “Did I make you feel better?”

Your face eases into a smile. “Yeah, those were some pretty wise words, Lix. I’m impressed.”

He then reaches over, a wide smile of relief on his face as both hands cup your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“For what,” you laugh at the unexpected proximity.

“For trusting me enough to tell me these things.”

You shake your head, lifting one hand to run your fingers through the strands of hair that stick to his temple.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you… I just don’t like dragging you down. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad either,” he says in between kisses to your wrist.

You lean over to bring your lips to his, a soft but urgent kiss. He envelops you in his arms and you melt further into him.

Felix pulls away for a brief moment. “Hey, don’t hide from me anymore, okay?” He murmurs, breath hot against your wet mouth. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, gripping the back of his neck to connect your mouths again.

What started as an innocent kiss escalates into a whole ‘nother thing, quicker than any of you expected. Even with him pressed up against you like this, you somehow don’t feel close enough.

Much to your disappointment, he withdraws himself from you before things can advance any further.

You whine, burying your face in his neck. He laughs, breathing hard and stroking the back of your head.

“Let’s go home first.”

“No…” You protest. Your lips land on his skin, sucking lightly. “Need you now.”

There are no other cars around and his windows are tinted. No one would see you, unless they were intentionally peering inside.

He caves. You practically throw yourself into the back, Felix in tow.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

You move together in the cramped space, a feverish heat building between your bodies as you grope each other in the most unseemly places.

Your fingers trail up underneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his stomach before pulling away to admire the exposed strip of skin.

A particular memory resurfaces at the sight.

The day your father had him baptized in a lake, both of you just shy of sixteen; the drenched white fabric of his shirt sticking to his body and revealing his shredded abs. That had been the time your infatuation for him began.

And now here it is in front of you again, in an entirely different context.

Felix emits a faint laugh at your gawking then quickly shoves his shirt over his head, cocking a brow at you as if to say better?

Smothering his chest with open-mouthed kisses, your hands slowly make their descent to the button of his pants.

More clothes come off, hands shaking and moving eagerly with excitement. You have already been intimate in more ways than one, yet this is the first time you are in front of each other baring it all—stark naked in the backseat of his car.

Still, you find him so beautiful, better than anything your mind could ever conjure up. With that dark look in his eyes as they roam desirously over your body, you know he feels the same way about you.

A chorus of moans rumble against your mouth as you deftly reach a hand between you to wrap your fingers around his leaking shaft.

He rests his head against the window, practically crumbling beneath your touch. You don’t take your eyes off each other this time when your mouth slides over his cock.

“Baby…” He gently pushes on your shoulders as your tongue drags along the underside. “Baby, please…” He speaks sluggishly, his tone hushed and raspy. “I’m not going to last.”

“Why,” you lift a brow, pulling your mouth away but not ceasing the movements of your hand. “Are you saving it?”

His eyes widen in fear that he had misread the situation. “I kind of assumed that we would– I mean, o- only if you want to,” he stammers.

“M’just teasing you.” You smile, wrapping your arms around him as you sit upright. “Of course I want to.” You pepper kisses along his jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do it for so long.”

To your surprise, he suddenly drops to the floor of his car, and with a light prod of his hand, you let your thighs fall open. He guides your legs over his shoulders, his mouth so close to where you want him.

Finally, his tongue laps over your clit—and you’re giggling without even realizing it, feeling giddy and almost drunk with delight.

“What?” He raises his head, smiling lightheartedly.

“Nothing, I just...” You caress his cheek, gazing upon him with affection. “Baby has always sounded so corny to me, but I like it when you call me that.”

“Mm,” he hums before lowering his mouth back onto your cunt. “Feel good, baby?” His dark eyes glitter with amusement as his face disappears between your thighs.

You can only moan in response, fingers flying to his blond locks, writhing desperately.

Eventually his fingers join his lips, slipping into you with ease. He goes down on you tenderly, the same way he would kiss you on the mouth. Less impatience than last time, and taking his sweet time working you up.

Soon enough, you unravel on his tongue, clutching a handful of his hair tightly in your fist. Felix groans low against your cunt, licking you up, rutting against the leather seat.

“Need you inside, please…”

A look of alarm flashes across his face as you drag him over you. You lay yourself down, adjusting as well as you can with the cup holder poking uncomfortably at your back.

“Shit, I just realized– I didn’t bring anything.”

“I’ll take a pill in the morning,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Felix…”

He can’t bring himself to refuse you now; your lashes wet with tears from your previous orgasm, lips pink and swollen from kissing as you wiggle beneath him, begging for him to take you.

A quiet growl rips from him as he ravishes your mouth with an impassioned kiss, his cock gliding across your slick cunt. You moan at the familiar sensation, brought back to the last time you were both tangled up like this—doing it in a place you weren’t supposed to, just like you are now.

Pain blooms when he finally enters you.

It’s a tight fit, you’re afraid he won’t be able to go much further.

“Mmph,” he groans into your mouth, arms shaking with effort. He separates from you momentarily, concern evident on his face. “Relax for me baby, can you do that?”

You nod, trying your hardest to loosen up for him. Anything he can do to alleviate the pain, he does. His hands don’t stop touching you, softly caressing every part of your body he can reach. His mouth is everywhere, scattering kisses along your face, your neck, your collarbones.

It takes a few moments, but with his gentle touch and words of praises, telling you how you’re doing so well for him, your pain ebbs away.

Felix’s movements are a little clunky at first, but he gradually finds his rhythm, responding to your cues, and going with whatever feels right.

You begin moving as one, your bodies molding to the shape of each other, driven to give and receive pleasure.

“You’re so warm…” He whispers in between a kiss to your forehead.

“Does it feel good?” You blink innocently up at him, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He drops his head and laughs softly against your neck, bringing a sly smirk to your face.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasms to approach.

His body drapes over you, enveloping you with his affection and warmth. Hips rocking together, minds hazy from pleasure—until all you see, taste, and feel is each other.

Time seems to stand still in this moment, and god, you truly would love to be stuck here forever.

“I love you,” he sobs against your neck. “I love you so much.”

You repeat his words, and with your hands clasped next to your head, you finish together.

You have yet to figure out your place in this world; but right now, here with Felix, is where you have felt the most at home.

⭒

author's note: sorry it took me a while to get this out! i was struggling for a bit with writer’s block. thank u all so so so much for responding very kindly and interacting with my posts. it has been rly encouraging. idk if i’ll do another series in the near future but i definitely plan on writing more so if u want to be added to my permanent taglist just let me know!

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| taglist: @moasworld @acidgh0st @vixensss @yeetfellx @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @letrasalvientoblog @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @tfshouldidohere @sxurgrapes @babrieeee @fawnpeaks @skzswife |

#lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz felix #skz smut #stray kids #skz fanfic #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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littlespacereader · 2 months

Note

haii!!!!! can u do a story wher tony stark is cg an peter parker is litle on patrol ??? wifs mentions of captan amewica and or doctort strang bein othr papa(s) ??

Such a cute idea! I love me a cute fic with little and caregiver teaming up to save the world but the Cg is just worried about their little the whole time! Of course I have CG Tony Stark and to change it up I made the other CG Doctor strange! I literally love his character so much! I also based the villain off the comic book character and not the MCU version of the character. Anyway! Please enjoy this fic!! Thank you for the request!

On Patrol🕷️⚡️

Caregiver! Tony Stark, Caregiver! Stephen Strange & Little! Peter Parker

Tags - fighting (combat), passing out, tickling, cuddles, medicines, magic

Nicknames - Pete, kid, little bundle of joy, sweet one, little one, little spider, Dadee for Tony, Papa for Strange

“Mission Alert, 22nd street and 8th avenue. Reports says the Electro is making his way to the city’s power grid. Police are asking for the Avenger’s assistance.” Jarvis echoed through the Tower.

“A mission!!” Peter jumped from his bed. He threw his spider stuffie and spit his pacifier out before running into the other room.

“Jarvis! Keep me updated on the mission! I’m getting changed now.”

“Sir, do you think you’re in the right headspace to be going on this mission?”

“Of course! I’m big now. I just needed a little break and now I’m good.”

He quickly threw on his suit, grabbed his web shooters before leaving his room. Not without one extra hug to his stuffie though! If Jarvis had real eyes, he’d be rolling them.

Peter started running down the hall, then thought the doors to the balcony. With one big jump he swung into the city.

Peter began to talk to Jarvis through his suit’s technology, “Tell Da-…Tell Mister Stark-“

“Tell me what?”

Peter looked to his right to see Tony flying beside him. “Hey! I was just telling Jarvis-“

“Where do you think you’re going Pete?”

“I’m going on the mission.” Peter said, a bit unsure of himself. “You see, I just got back from school so I was just relaxing watching this old show called Gillian’s Island when Jarvis said the mission alert and since everyone else is away on the mission in Australia I thought I would cover it.” Peter said as fast as lighting. Was it all completely true…no.

“Huh? Really?” Tony didn’t sound too convinced.

“Yeah! And now that you’re here we can do this together! On patrol! Come on!” he tried to swing faster but Ironman was much faster than Peter’s swinging. Tony stopped him, the two just stood in the air, Ironman hovering and Spider-Man holding onto one of his webs.

“I think maybe you should sit this one out kid. I’ll take care of it.”

“But I can do it! He’s my villain anyway! Trust me I’ll be-.”

There was a sudden rumble with lighting flying into the air. The two looked at one another.

Tony sighed, “We don’t have time to argue. Alright, come on kid. As long as you’re not feeling Little…” Peter could hear the slight sternness to his voice.

“Nope! All good. Alright let’s goooo!” And before Tony could him question more, Peter continued to swing away.

Tony just sighed and followed after him. While Peter swung, Tony flied beside him. They were heading towards downtown near Chelsea market and the Flatiron building.

As they made their way Peter noticed all the different buildings, a new toy store, the Harry Potter store, plus there was probably a new toy stand at Chelsea market.

“Da-…Mister Stark? After we take down Electro can we go to Chelsea market? I wanna see if they’ve got a new toy stand, because the last time I was there with you and Papa I saw-“

“Kid look out!”

Tony grabbed Peter before a lighting strike could hit him. He set him down on a rooftop near by.

“Peter answer me right now. Are you feeling big or Little?” Tony asked in his angry stern voice.

“I’m fine! I’ve got this!” He shook his head and completely avoid the question entirely. Again Peter pusher past and over to Electro who was not happy to see the duo.

“The spider brought backup? It won’t matter!”

Electro began throwing lighting bolts towards Spider-Man and Ironman but the two dodge them well.

“You remember what I taught you last week?”

“The above and below trick?” Peter happily replied.

“That’s the one. Alright kid, let’s do it.” Tony flew below Electro. While he was distracted with Tony, Peter swung above, grabbing his arms in his webs perfectly restraining him.

“We got him Mister Stark! We got-.”

There was just one problem…Electro’s hand were still filled with electricity. So he shot above him. The electricity traveled up the webs and onto Peter, electrocuting him.

Peter doesn’t really remember what happened after that. He heard his Dadee call after him, then he remembers falling, then everything went dark as he passed out. Though he thought he remembered something red wrapping around him.

~~~

When Peter started to wake up he felt wrapped in a blanket. No…wait a minute.

Peter’s eyes fluttered as he started to regain consciousness. He looked down to see his whole body was wrapped in not a blanket but a cape, specifically Doctor Stranger’s cloak.

Peter’s body ached and his head was pounding but he looked around for his Dadee and his Papa too.

He realized where he was. Safe and sound in Papa’s mansion in Downtown Manhattan, the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Peter sighed and sunk into the very comfy bed. He always loved going to Papa’s house. Everything was so cool and mysterious.

Plus he always has the softest beds imaginable. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and fall back to sleep. Expect cloak started to tickle him! Peter began to giggle and giggle, the cloak was relentless.

The cloak only ceased its tickle attack when the door to the bedroom opened up. Peter looked to see Uncle Wong enter with a tray in his hands.

“How are you feeling little one?”

“I’m fine! Really!” Peter began to sit up but his pounding headache had him sink right back down. “Actually my head hurts, badly.” He whined holding his head.

Wong hummed in response, “I thought so. That’s why I brought this for you.”

Wong sat the tray down on Peter’s lap. On it, were little bottles with different colored liquids inside. Peter looked at Wong confused.

“Don’t worry it’s all medicines to help you feel better.” Wong started looking through the different bottles for the right one.

He picked up one and opened it up, black smoke started to pour out of it before he quickly plugged it shut.

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at Wong with sheer horror on his face. Wong laughed nervously, “Haha, that was the wrong one.”

“Wrong one?! What is that?!”

“Nothing you need to worry about. Let’s see here.” Wong looked through the bottles until, “Ah ha! Here it is!”

He held up a glass bottle with a blue liquid inside. Peter looked at Wong worried, “What is that?”

“It’s liquid advil. I will help you feel better soon.”

“No thank Uncle Wong I’m gonna see Papa instead.” Peter began sitting up with the help of the cloak.

“I’m telling you Peter this will help you. It’s good medicine. I’m 78% sure.”

“78% sure?! What about the other 22%?”

“Well, they’re a chance that this could turn you into a fish or cure your headache.”

“A FISH?!”

“It’s only a 22% chance! Nothing to worry about!”

Peter’s heart was in his throat. He stood up on unsteady feet but thanks to the cloak he didn’t fall. He looked at the cloak and then Wong.

“Mister cloak, take me to Papa please.”

“Peter wait-.”

The cloak lifted Peter in the air and flew him right out the door, ignoring Wong. The cloak flew through the mansion in search of Strange, all while Peter was giggling, but thankfully it didn’t need to look far.

Strange and Tony sat by the fireplace. A coffee table with tea cups sat between their big chairs.

“I should’ve checked with Jarvis the moment I caught up with him in New York. I just had a feeling he wasn’t as big as he was saying.”

“It isn’t your fault Tony. It’s hard to tell when Peter is truly regressed or somewhere in between. I’m just happy he wasn’t badly hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m a good Caregiver or I’m becoming my old man.” Tony sighed.

“Tony, Peter idolizes you. There’s really very little you could say or do to make him hate you. Don’t beat yourself up, that’s my job.” Strange smirked.

Tony rolled his eyes, “How did you even find us?”

“I was heading to Chelsea Markey to pick up something for Peter. Last time we were there I saw him looking at a toy stand and-”

The cloak carrying Peter flew into the room, knocking over the coffee table with their tea cups. The cloak deposited Peter in Strange’s lap with one plop.

Peter giggled and waved to the cloak goodbye. “Thank you cloakie!” The cloak waved back before disappearing into the mansion.

“My little bundle of joy delivered into my lap.” Strange chuckled.

Peter reach forward and hugged Strange, who recuperated wrapping his arms around Peter. “Peter, sweet one, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” Peter mumbled in the hug.

He lifted his head up but held onto Strange still, “Uncle Wong tried to poison me Papa!”

Strange raised an eye brow, “Did he now?”

“Yeah! He brought in this big tray of bottles! One of them he opened had black smoke coming out of it! And another could’ve turned me into a fish!!”

“A fish?!” Tony stood up and joined the two, “We can’t have that happen! What will we do if our little spider turned into a little fish?!” Tony said as dramatic as possible.

“No Dadee! Don’t wanna be a fish!”

“Don’t worry kiddo, you’re not going to be a fish. I’m sure Papa has some regular medicine for you around here somewhere.”

“Come on,” Strange said lifting Peter into his arms. “Let’s get you some medicine and then it’s back to bed for you.”

“Noooooo wanna play!”

“Listen to your Papa Pete, you need all the rest in the world after that shock. I’m sorry this happened to you. I should’ve seen it coming and helped you.”

“It’s okay! I’m okay! See?” Peter smiled.

Tony smiled back, “I can definitely see that. Nothing stops my little one.”

“How about a cozy resting day? Just the three of us? That way you can heal and you won’t be without your Papa and Dadee. We can watch whatever movie you want. How does that sound?” Strange offered.

Peter smiled at his two amazing Caregivers, “Yes!! Just one thing?”

“Yes?”

“Can we invite Uncle Wong too. But make him promise not to turn me into a fish…please.”

The two Caregivers laughed, “We’ll make him promise not to turn you into a fish.”

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 6 months

Text

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

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iamskadhi · 1 month

Text

Note: this is the first time I write anything in english so take it more like an idea or whatever. I have no respect for this language, but correct me when I'm wrong, please.

I had this "OC" in my mind for years but I can't recall her name, so you can imagine this is you, you're narrating this story, past tense and present might be a little all over the place, ehe.

I always imagined this like a series of mini comics because it contains some things from Dabi's past like before being Dabi the villain but after the fire that "killed him", I'm just not patient or talented enough to draw all that.

+4000 words.

Warning: it may be boring, you may read some dumb teen behaviour, soft +18 content, slow burn, and some Bella Swan vibes.

Nothing more to say, I hope somebody likes it.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*

I met Dabi when I was barely a teenager; too young, too naive, but also too mad at my parents so I took every chance to be with people I shouldn't be around and that's exactly how I met him. He had a fire quirk that harms his body so he looked like shit, he wasn’t exactly handsome but he was light-hearted.

I noticed he dyed his hair black and I started to help him with it, also helped him cure his skin when he over used his quirk. I don’t know how or when but we became closer.

There was just... something in his eyes. Never seen eyes that color blue. Anybody would think he was a bad influence but it was the other way round. Dabi was such a nice guy, always telling me to go home, go to school, helping me with anything I needed and all I needed was him —with me— all the time.

“I like you” he said, “you’re kind and pretty, also you’re rich, why do you hang around these losers?”

“I like you” I said. I could never forget the smile on his face.

He told me about his past and I thought his future was us, together. We were young, those were the days when you think you know everything but you’re just naïve, too naïve. We would lay down in the grass and tangle up, I usually bring food and beverages for everyone, he’d put his arm around my shoulders and tell everyone not to mess with me, he made me feel special, he made me feel loved and mature.

We invented a signal and we started to meet at midnight, it was easy because I had a quirk that allowed me to teleport. Wherever he strayed, I followed and I would’ve begged for him to hold my hand and never let go.

However, time passed and he and his friends got in big trouble. I knew they were thieves, and then they became murderers and had to take different paths.

“You can’t hide me alone, are you fucked in the head?!” Dabi yelled at me when we had our first big fight because of that. “We need to go and you can’t come with us, your parents will get us caught for kidnapping, this is my last word. You stay, we’ll meet again someday.”

We lost contact before I graduated; he simply disappeared and left me with a broken heart.

I cried my eyes out for a month, but a girl gotta be tough and smart and independent. I moved out of my parents house when I finished high school, thanks to my dad, he rented a whole apartment near college and that was probably the first time in a long time I was grateful to have a wealthy family.

I just had to study and work for the family business and life would be sweet, but then one day I saw him. He walked by the Coffee Shop I used to go. How could I ever forget him? He wasn't exactly my first love but definitely one true love. My heart stopped for a second and then raced like crazy, I got up and out of the place running.

"DABI" I yelled but he kept walking, "Dabi, stop!" He walked around the corner of a dark alley, so I stopped, I doubted:

Should I follow or should I let him go for good? It's been a couple of years, he probably has someone new now, I thought.

Then I heard him:

"It's been a long time" he said from the shadows of that alley, his voice changed a bit, matured, "I was convinced you forgot about me. I missed you"

A tear shed from my left eye when I saw his face, his burned skin looked worse than before.

"What an asshole" I said and ran to his arms, hugged him hard enough for him to moan, "I thought I'd never see you again."

I punched his chest.

"You dumbass, I hate you. I hate you! I should hate you but I'm just mad at you and I just wanna cry and I... I..." words escaped from my mind for a moment, "do you want a coffee or anything?"

He laughed and hugged me gently.

"I'm sorry. I missed you", he said.

For what it felt like an eternity, that was all that he could say. I was confused and happy at the same time, he walked with me to my place, looked up at the building and said something about being too far from his place, he didn't tell me where his place was or what he's been doing. We made a deal to meet at the coffee shop every Wednesday and for a few months that was okay.

“I still like you” he confessed randomly.

“I like you too”

He never told me what he does for a living, but I could imagine it. I felt like the more that he said, the less that I knew about his life and I was okay with that as long as he would stay around.

One day, he didn't show up. The next Wednesday, he came with an excuse about a job I’m sure he made up to keep me happy, to keep me safe.

"Dabi, why don't you come live with me?" I asked one time. His big blue eyes were wide open and I was sure he was gonna say no, so I insisted:

"I don't have a lot of free time lately, this is my senior year and I need to focus but I still want you around, come live with me and I'll see you every night, you don't have to worry about your job, you know you can live rent-free and..."

"No. Stop. No."

"Just come see the apartment, please.” I insisted, I didn’t want to let him go again, “It's big enough I swear and we can..."

"Please, stop. I have pride. I'm still a man."

He talked about how different we were, but I knew it wasn't true, he said maybe if I was less dependent of my parents we could work this out, but I knew that was just an excuse. It took me a couple of months but I made him come into my apartment.

"I just need to pick something real quick, come with me" I said and it wasn't all lie, I needed something it just wouldn't be quick.

He looked around the living room, I went to my bedroom to pick some books and when I walked out, he was looking out the window.

"You have a nice view", he said. I could see his blue eyes reflexing on the window’s glass.

"I know"

I walked to him and hugged him.

"I missed being this close in private.” I whispered.

“The last time we were fifteen", he concurred.

He didn't grow any taller since then, I put my head on his shoulder and felt a shiver. His hands went from my hair down to my shoulders, then down to my back until he touched my ass cheeks. I closed my eyes and left a sigh out.

"You've changed", he whispered, I looked at his face and he had that smile, I'd never forget the smile he had the first time I saw him, or the first time that we had sex.

"We were just kids back then, pretending to be adults"

"I don't regret that" he kissed me slowly.

"Me neither"

He took my clothes off clumsily and I led us to the couch, I could tell he didn't have anything with anybody else and I was so relief about it. I took his jacket off and went straight to his pants; he already had an erection like he was craving for it all this time.

"No more games" he said "let's go to your room"

I took his hand and we went to bed, I laid down and he kissed and touched me viciously, then I remembered I didn't have a condom and pushed him away.

"Do you have...?"

"No" he said, he knew what I meant.

"Damn it!" I cursed; we were already there like that. "I could go..."

"No, don't worry. You had to pick something anyway; we'll do it any other day"

My heart raced. I wanted to take him immediately when he said that, but I just kissed him and made him promise he'd come back. And he did. Over and over.

Until he was practically living there with me. I had him just where I wanted and then, one day, my mother showed up.

"You have to finish this relationship before other people find out. You can't live like this, we raised you better than that. You better not get pregnant or I'll drag you to an abortion clinic myself."

Good thing: that day Dabi wasn't around. Time passed and he was more and more time somewhere far away; I had the feeling he would disappear again, so I had to talk it out but I didn’t know how, I thought he would take it as a sign to completely disappear.

"You could leave a note, you know, or send me a text. Tell me when you're leaving, for how long... I'll graduate soon, I'm busy too but at least I tell you when I'm coming home late."

"I think I can't keep living here" he said "I've been trying to protect you from the things I do, but I think it's catching up. I can't risk you, I can't lose you"

I felt my blood pressure go low.

"So you're leaving me... again"

He did not say anything.

We both knew this day would come around. I just wanted to keep my delusional idea that we would work things out. Run away together, somewhere far from Japan. I even suggested Spanish lessons one night.

"I love you" he whispered in my ear when he hugged me "and I'll find you when I'm done"

"Done with what?"

He kissed me and walked to the door.

"Touya, done with what?!"

I only called him by his real name when I was angry and he knew. His last gaze before closing the door was so sad but I was at the edge of going mad.

"STUPID TODOROKI!"

I threw my phone across the living room. I screamed and kicked the sofa, my tears ricochet and I tried to stop them with my hands but couldn’t; and then I just went to my room and tried to retain it all back inside.

I cried, until my face was red and swollen and couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I looked like a frog whenever I cry this much so I did't get out of bed for a whole day.

I couldn't possibly imagine what he was doing; but every time there was a fire, anything related to blue flames I knew it was him and I kinda knew why. I knew everything about his family, about his father.

All Might retired, so Dabi's father was #1 Hero now. It must have messed with his brain and I wished I could have helped him, but you cannot help someone that doesn't want to be saved.

I did my best to move on. I graduated and started to work at my father's company. I realized Dabi was right about me: I was my father’s daughter and I couldn’t live without his protection; but there was nothing wrong about it, now that I was older, I realized I was lucky for it. I wished he had my luck.

Left the apartment and moved to a different city, my mom was too excited about that, she visited me the first chance she had.

"You know whose hero's agency is really near?" She asked me, "Hawks’ agency, the #2 hero!" She was suspiciously excited about it, "he's so young but so talented and handsome! You know, I could set..."

"Mother, leave"

"What?"

"You do not get to do this, you do not get to set me a blind dates, I don't want you to do that and I don't want you here. I moved so I didn't have to have you around, don't visit me unannounced anymore, please, now leave"

"You ungrateful piece of shit" she started saying something but I wasn’t gonna let her talk:

"Yeah, I know, I know, take your things now and leave"

She started an argument so I just walked to my bedroom and closed the door lock. I assumed she would get tired of talking to the door and leave. I took a sleeping pill; I loved those pills. Then the most unimaginable thing happened when I woke up, there was a chaos outside, too much noise and heat and apparently, there was two heroes fighting a monster, a nomu.

I went inside to check the news, the battle seemed lost but Endeavor managed to win. I fucking hated that guy, but damn he was strong… and so was his son.

I missed Dabi. I kept sending text messages for a while after he left me and he never replied so I stopped, but at that moment I felt the urge to try again.

“Did you watch the news?” I asked.

“What’s your new address?”

“Are you serious, you fucking dork?" I texted back.

"I'll find you, I'm pretty near" he replied. I blushed a little, I felt excited to see him again.

"You better come with a bouquet, coffee and the most dramatic apology you can think of"

“LMAO”, was his last text.

Almost a week later, a bouquet appeared at my entrance.

Holy shit, I thought. There was a note: "I miss you, I’ll be back soon"

Later, after work, I got a free coffee.

"A guy paid for it earlier, he said he knew you, I hope it's okay" said the girl at the counter.

"He had blue eyes and looked like a crispy chip?"

"Mmm, yes" she stuttered.

"It's good, thank you"

“You’re welcome, come back soon!” She sighed in relief.

Then, when I got home the door was open and it made me so angry.

"If this is the best apology you can imagine, you're the biggest asshole...!"

However, there was no one inside. I looked around the house, he wasn't there. I felt insecure so I called a friend, I stayed at her apartment that night and she tried to convince me to call the police.

I said I would, but I called him instead.

He answered.

"Today at my house, was it you?"

"What?" He sounded confuse.

"The door was open but there was no one inside"

"I sent you flowers and coffee but I didn't think of any way to apologize enough to you. I didn't go to your house and I won't go until you let me"

"Okay… I think I'll call the police then, don’t come near"

"Good. Take care."

“I…”

Silence. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t expect him to pick up the phone in the first place. He whispered my name:

“Thank you for loving me this whole time” he said and hung up.

I felt like stupid for not saying anything. I didn’t even said that I loved him, never said it but actions speak for themselves and I couldn’t deny it.

After calling the police, some heroes would walk by my house every damn day; my father visited to make sure they did, my mother was too offended to come with him.

Turned out it was just a robbery case.

“Your mom and I talked about what happened between you two and I have to keep her happy, honey”, he stated “they don’t say ‘happy wife, happy life’ for nothing, I know she hasn’t been the best to you, but she tries”

“She treats me like shit, always have”

“Don’t say that” he sighed. “Let’s make a deal: I will set you a couple of dates just to calm her down and you choose the type of man you want to go to dates with, uh?”

I smiled viciously.

“No criminals!” he immediately said “don’t put yourself in danger just to get to your mother’s nerves, think about me too. There must be some nice guys you’d like to meet.”

“What if I want to date a woman?”

“Fine by me, I like woman too”

“I don’t like woman that way, I just wanted to know if I could.”

He laughed and looked at the time.

“Your mom told me about that hero, Hawks, I met him and he’s not very heroic actually, he’s just lucky he has a useful quirk, I think you’d like him”

“You’re pushing me”

“I’m not. Let’s set this now, you’ll have two dates, one with that hero prick and one with whoever you want, some college colleague preferably”

“Okay, fine, but the second date will be a woman.”

Mother always got what she wanted.

“Excellent, my dear! Send me her profile when you pick one, I’ll set the time and date, you go wherever you want and keep me updated. I gotta go now”

I chose a friend from college my mother never seemed to approve. As soon as I made my choice, my dad did his part.

The day I met Keigo it was rainy, he asked me if I wanted to cancel but I didn’t, I liked rain when it’s calm and I wanted to finish my duty as soon as possible. We went for coffee, watched a movie and then to a nice but not too elegant restaurant for dinner.

When I told him I had no intentions to date him, he told me he had no excuse to reject this date since he took a break from his hero’s agency for personal reasons; he seemed nice, careless and turned out to be easy-going, but he wasn’t Dabi.

I swore I could go home by myself but he insisted and when we were arriving, he put his arms around me.

“Don’t be scared” he said and took fly with me. I teleported back to the ground without thinking and shouted at him:

“What the fuck were you thinking?! What were you trying to do to me, you psycho?!”

He looked down at me and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to use your quirk whenever you want, you’re not a professional hero nor a villain like me” Dabi was by my side and his eyes locked to Keigo’s. He came down with his hands exposed.

“I sensed you following me, I didn’t think you two knew each other” Keigo looked careful now.

“We’re like childhood friends” Dabi said, “I was curious why would someone like her hang around a hero like you”

“It was my mom’s idea” I said, “Dad intervened, long story short, I have to go to blind dates now, it’s none of your business” I looked at Keigo: “now I am curious why you’re not trying to catch him”

“I told you I’m off duty”

“Sure”

Something was off, I knew but I couldn’t tell. Dabi always kept me far enough and safe from his business. These two knew each other, but I couldn’t tell if Dabi was an informant or it was the other way round.

“I’ll take her home now” Dabi said.

“What kind of man would let his date go home with another man?” Keigo smiled.

I felt Dabi’s hand get warmer so I took it off my shoulder.

“I told you I could go home by myself, so I’m leaving. You two can catch up now, it seems like you have something to talk about”

“You’re wrong” Dabi said, “You and I have a lot to catch up”

I looked him in the eyes, it cut deep to know him right to the bone. He came back and he’d go away soon.

“I know that it’s over, Dabi, I don’t need your closure” I said firmly and walked away. It hurted more than I expected, I wasn’t serious, just wanted to mislead Hawks.

The rain came pouring down the closer I got home, it helped me conceal my stupid tears. That night I slept on the couch, I kinda expected Dabi to come but he did not.

Keigo, on the other hand, appeared at my door early in the morning with a nice bouquet.

“You may think I’m not serious,” he said “but I found you amusing”

He accompanied me on the way to work, behave nicely, but I suspected of his true intentions.

“Dabi was a part of a rebel phase when I was younger,” I admitted, he didn’t say anything, neither pretended he didn’t wanna know, “he comes and goes, he may think that I’m bulletproof but I’m not”

“With a quirk like yours, you could easily avoid a bullet” he tried to joke around but I didn’t let it slide.

“I’m conscious that he sees what he does to me, he knows exactly how to ruin a perfect day and I’m sick and tired of that attitude, so whatever you’re trying to do here, end it right now”

His smirk faded.

“Last night you said it was over, but I see it’s not. I won’t annoy you anymore”

His phone ringed, we said goodbye and he left me alone. I knew he just wanted to know if I was involved in anything Dabi was.

Life turned boring for a while and that was okay, but myhouse started to feel too big for me alone. I was considering to move to an apartment or bring a girl friend to live with me when I looked out the window and saw a letter outside the mailbox; when I went out to pick it, looked around but didn’t see anybody.

I knew it was his.

I knew it was a goodbye letter, I had to let him go.

“I won’t make assumptions why you moved to a different city but I think it’s cause of me. I swear I gave my blood, sweat and if I could cry I’d give my tears to protect you from the things that I do but it wasn’t enough, I could never give you peace”, he wrote.

“Deep down I hoped I would never lose you, eventually I did. I’m not your problem anymore. I can’t just show up at your front door and expect you to let me in, but I want to do it anyway.

Now that we don’t talk, I just wanted you to know I wish I was a better man for you.”

Lastly, he wrote:

“I’m sorry that I hurted you, it’s not your fault.”

I never felt so attacked by a piece of paper in my life. I knew I was better alone than needing a man like him, but the heart wants what it wants. Wishing he was a better man wasn’t an option, I loved him for being the man he was, the fact that he didn’t see it my way was painful.

All this time I thought he could see right through me, now I wonder what was he seeing this whole time.

I called him but he didn’t pick up the phone, so I started to write a text message when I heard the door ring bell and he was there standing at my door.

“This is the last time” he said, “I swear this is the last time”

He put his arms around me, he was warm and had that suspicious smell like he over used his quirk.

“You’re an asshole” I mumbled.

“I know”

“I’m tired of this”

“I know”

“I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you”

“You won’t have to”

I looked at his face, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go inside, we have a lot to talk about” he walked in.

For the first time, he opened up about everything, I listened carefully; I got worried, even cried a little. I suggested again that we could run away together but he didn’t want to, he was determined to fulfil his revenge against Endeavor even if it killed him in the process.

It made me want to die. I took a deep breath.

“You can’t come here and expect me to accept that you’re willing to die just to expose your father’s shit to everyone in Japan” he opened his mouth but I didn’t let him talk, “you have to choose right now, Touya, you leave now or you stay with me. You can’t just ask a person that loves you to sit and watch you get killed, you’ll have to kill me just the same”

Dabi hugged me gently, kissed me softly.

“Never going to happen”

My heart ached. I knew he’d leave me in the morning, but all I could think about was that I wished I could go back in time and save Touya from that fire. If anybody could go back in time and save him, knowing what I know, even if it meant we wouldn’t meet or be together… that’d be okay.

“Dabi, I’m sorry I didn’t meet you before”

He looked confused.

“I think we never stood a chance, did we? Wanna come to bed?” I asked and he smiled.

“Yeah, ready for it?”

I laughed and took his hand, led him to the bedroom, took his jacket off and appreciated his burned arms for a moment. I touched his burned lip with the tip of my finger.

“I love you” he said.

“Just not enough to stay”

“I…”

I shushed him. Nothing he could say would eased the pain I was feeling that night. I hugged him, kissed him and whispered in his ear:

“I love you too. Now show me your love with actions instead of words”

#dabi #dabi x you #fanfiction #light novel style #i like the idea that dabi would be the kinda guy that makes sure you know he likes you #cliche warning #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader

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oleander-comic · 7 months

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Something Something Burnout

DON'T LET THE TITLE OF THIS POST ALARM YOU lmao. I'm not quitting or taking a hiatus (a super long one, anyways) or anything like that. I do really really want to see the this to the end.

As most of you know, earlier this year my pacing was absolutely mental. I mean, updating every 2-4 weeks. I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep that up forever and this post was probably a long time in the making.

Recently, working on this comic has felt more like a chore than a hobby/side project, and I don't want that to get worse! The last update, which was 7 pages total, was the update that took me the longest. Now, it's been more weeks since the last update than pages I have sketched. SO as you can see, my pace has slowed.

The slowed pace is for a multitude of reasons. School is kind of kicking my ass right now, I have other free-time activities I've been doing (I started reading for fun again!!), and, most of all, I can feel burnout on my heels. And I kind of have burnt out a little?

This next chapter, Chapter 12, will be the last update of 2023. It won't be particularly long, but I'm taking my time. It'll be November or maybe even December before I'm finished because of my slowed pace. In 2024 I'm going to focus more on myself and my (rapidly declining -_- oopsies) mental health, so there definitely won't be another 13 chapters in one year lol.

In this past year, the response to this comic has been overwhelming in a positive way. This account recently reached 200 followers!!! That's such a big number to me and I want to give each and every one of you a hug.

So yeah. Sorry for the longer post (hence why I added the readmore). I just had a lot to say and wanted to make a pretty big serious post about the state of myself and the comic.

-Xebec

#info

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pastelprince18 · 8 months

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"Hello from Rayman Chibi!

"So you might be wondering why I'm submitting this here. For one thing, it's not entirely normal for me to post sketches of what I've planned out, especially considering my usual art-style, but I've been drawing this at school and I couldn't be any more prouder. However, that's only to cover up the other reason, which is to say that, yes, this contains some Rayman x Rabbid Mario (Punching Pals) content. And spoilers... I actually drew them kissing.

"Now I don't have a Nintendo Switch to play M+R:SoH's Rayman DLC, so to anyone seeing this, this contains NO SPOILERS FROM THE GAME WHATSOEVER. However, it may contain character inaccuracies (both visual-wise & personality-wise) as well as a bit of transphobia under the long 'read more' description, so here we go... Rayman in the Phantom Show but it took place in the Rayman Chibi universe:

"Click on 'read more' for context, but I have to warn you once again that this contains transphobia and a veeeery long type-out.

"Now you might be wondering, 'WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED IN THE FIRST IMAGE????' Well, allow me to explain:

"in my AU, Rayman is transfem and goes by she/her, they/them and even he/him pronouns (I'm not even joking, I'm pretty much one of the first people to outright make a more feminine Rayman and say she's trans and not genderbent), and while normally, it's not questioned or invalidated or anything since it's been pretty much normalized in my AU (since thankfully no one gave me even a slap on the wrist for that), here, this is probably the first time her gender identity was... well, questioned and invalidated.

"When the Rabbids (including Rabbid Mario & Rabbid Peach (as well as all the other playable Rabbids in Sparks of Hope & their DLCs because why not)) arrived, Tom Phan took over in writing the series and made it so that it had the drama of older arcs but better. However, Phan meant to make these events as accurate to the arcs Rayman and friends went through as possible, which yes, meant that Rayman would have to play as a guy all the time.

"However, Rayman isn't comfortable with this and gives Phan a piece of her mind, but Phan refuses to hear it and tells her that she's not supposed to be trans because he's been studying the audience and confirmed that the majority of them liked her as a man, so telling them that she's trans would risk losing a good chunk of her fans, including conservatives and people who were fawning over her. Plus he was like 'hey, femboys exist. Why can't you just be a femboy?' (Because she technically already is, dipshi-)

"This upsets Rayman, and it seems like she's the only one who's being stripped of her identity she's worked so hard on discovering, however, other characters sympathized for her and even plan on taking Phan down because of their creative differences. This is a series about Rayman characters doing dumb things, dang it! Who's to say who can do who (other than the fans)?? This led to other characters helping Rayman feel more welcome in her identity, from her usual friends assuring her that she's valid to the Rabbids not only making her feel more comfortable around them but also helping her rid her trauma to even Rabbid Peach even admitting that she too is a trans woman and even giving Rayman her wig and clothes that Peach herself made to wear for even a little while to feel the gender euphoria that she had. Rabbid Mario also helps in making Rayman feel better by whispering to her things that make her feel valid while on camera with her, and while at first he isn't used to referring her to her identity, he does learn this helps them form a more romantic relationship over time.

"However, it's by the end where Rabbid Mario decided that he's had enough of Phan's shiz, starting the first part of the sketched-out comic. After seeing Rayman protest to Phan one last time by taking off her bandanna and showing him what she's become, witnessing her being chained up and hearing Phan call her something along the lines of a 'deluded fool who doesn't even care for his fans' (interpret that however you want) Rabbid Mario ultimately defends her, saying that she's been struggling to find her identity and that that's just been happening behind closed doors. He then goes to Rayman and attempts to kiss her, but the chains pull her upwards before their lips could even touch.

"The other part happens after Rayman saved the Magician even after finding out his secrets (which I won't entirely be showing, and also Rayman calling the Magician 'Dad' isn't a spoiler; it's actually a callback to an old post I made back in 2021). Rayman asked if she could go see Rabbid Mario before he and the rest of the Rabbids go, to which the Magician obliged. Rayman comes up to Rabbid Mario and gives him a hug, thanking him and the rest of the Rabbids for helping her get the series back. Rabbid Mario takes the thank you for granted and asked if they could 'finish what they'd started' (referring to the attempted kiss in the first part)... and then... finally... they kissed.

"However, it didn't last long as Rayman still isn't used to kissing Rabbids and Rabbid Mario tasted a bit of alcohol on Rayman's lips. However, he does suggest that they do a redo when they see each other again, to which Rayman agreed. Then the Rabbids left. When will they return? Who knows..? Either way, everyone lived happily ever after. The... end..."

- Rayman Chibi _____________

HOLDS U AND HOLDS THIS FUCKING POST THIS FR MADE ME MY NIGHT AHHH!! I KID U NOT I YELLED AND SQUEAL KICKING MY FEET,,,,My god rayman being Transfem and rabbid mario comforting her and loves her for her AGHHHHH *SQUEALS* This is so beautiful chibi this is going on the fridge <33

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talenlee · 20 days

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Talen's Birthday, 2024

Somehow this one feels less of a big deal than last year. I dunno, maybe it’s because turning forty has been a big monument in my mind, turning forty-one feels just like turning forty again.

I had a fanciful idea that I could do something with the fact that 41 is a prime age; that I have turned 1, 3, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37 and now 41, and then I thought it’d be interesting to see if I ever turned a prime age in a prime year. Now, if you’re at all good at math you’d be able to point out that by being born in 1983, every year I turn an odd age, the year is even and vice versa, meaning that for roughly half the population at any time, they’re never a prime age on a prime year, since no even number is a prime.

It’s not a complicated math puzzle here.

Making a birthday post on my birthday doesn’t feel that special now. It’s not a milestone, it’s not important. Comically, because City of Heroes is burned into my brain, I do think of 41 as a level where you used to get access to your first Epic Power Pool choice (except now you get them at level 35, which is cool). It’s good though: This was a good way to fight the anxiety of the birthday. I remember when I turned 35 I had a real horrible moment thinking I was done, that I had wasted my entire life up to that point. I remember part of what made it okay was seeing Adam Savidan on Youtube, playing Magic: The Gathering and saying ‘I’m thirty five or thirty four years old and I don’t need this.’

A thing about Loading Ready Run that makes me feel a tiny bit bad is that it’s this big long project that a bunch of friends have been making and running for twenty years, as an ongoing hobby that became a job and then became an institution managing multiple people creating things. Sometimes I get sad thinking about how what got that big project to happen was, in part, two dudes with supportive parents and supportive school supplies in the late 90s were able to work on a project, together, for long enough to become very good at it.

How do you do something for twenty years?

Well, you start.

You start, and you keep working on it while you work on things.

The internet of today is poisoned. The internet of today demands you create for it, it wants you to produce Content. Your status updates, your pictures, your everyday drama, your existence, they are all things that are being fed into advertising machine to space out the ads in the name of being ‘content.’ It isn’t how it used to be. It used to be people had websites for their special interests, the interest being the primary thing. My first website I can remember was an Animorphs fanfiction space, and I remembered how when I stopped trying to host other people’s fanfiction, and instead just hosted my own, the one author I took down got sad at me. She was probably also like, fourteen like I was.

It used to be that people made things because they wanted to share them. It used to be that people were making websites and stories and web-novels and web-comics and diaries and blogs and vlogs and microgames and RPGs and they were making stuff. It was stuff. It was not for consuming in its own continual sense, it was not being part of a pipe of things that were fed to you, it was not content, it was a lot of different stuff and that difference gave everyone a reason to do things.

But now, it’s Content.

Now, your effort, your creative material, is being pushed into a single tube for four companies who suck and you know they suck and you don’t like them and yet you make things for them anyway. Because that’s where it is. That’s where the habit forms.

Arbor Day - The Lads // Arbor Day

Watch this video on YouTube

I’m fond of this song, Arbor Day by a band that can be politely described as ‘pretty good, for a Church choir.’ The song, very simply, is that hey, do you need a reason to make a change in your life? Well, today is Arbor day, that’s a good enough reason.’ It’s been an idea bubbling around in my head that yeah, Arbor Day is a nearly arbitary reason to make a big change in your life, but that may be all you need. Sometimes you just need something, anything to mark the psychological change between ‘before I tried this’ to ‘after I tried this.’

Here’s my request for you, on my birthday.

There is something you want to make. There is something you care about. There is something you are interested in trying. Today is a day to do that. Today is a day to even just describe a plan, or a hope. Do you want to write a book? Write a description of what that book is about. A series of books? Describe all of them! Do you want to make games? Start, download one of the programs you need to use today.

Don’t waste money on things for this post’s sake, but you know there are steps you can take to make things, and I want you to make them. I believe in a world where people make things because we like making things, I believe in a world of creative people playing with creativity, and I believe that the important thing of online spaces ie being able to share them.

So please, make something, and show it to me.

No matter how small it is, no matter how little progress on it you get to make. Just spend a little time today starting something, continuing something or finishing something.

I’ll be proud of you, no matter what.

I promise.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Diary #Making

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lou-iz-stat · 26 days

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Well I got to episode 5 in my IWTV S1 rewatch…

Truthfully I probably won’t say much about this episode since there is so much of it in season 2 that I think will be revisited. On top of that I am at the end of my semester at school so I probably won’t say much because of that too. Also out of all of the episodes of s1 this the episode that I have seen the least.

But we still have 3 more weeks until season 2 where I have no doubt that s1 will be tame when compared to it. I’m getting more and more nervous each week not going to lie.

Ok… here we go!

IWTV S1 E5: A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart

The episode starts with Daniel reading Claudia’s diary and how she records the last words of the people she kills.

But then Daniel is interrupted by Louis feeding on ‘Rashid’. It is pretty nasty for Louis and Armand to do this in front of Daniel. He even reads his mind to try and throw Daniel off his game. I notice that whenever Daniel tries to talk about something negatively about Claudia, Louis will always try to do something to throw Daniel off that even holds through in the ‘Paris sucks’ clip we have in s2.

It’s funny that Armand tells Daniel he would not let him anywhere near his neck. He must still be mad at Daniel for something maybe Devil’s minion related? 👀

Then we go back to 1923 where Louis thinks that she has gone on a hunger strike because of Charlie but Lestat knows that she is just escaping when they have to go feed. Since they are so similar Lestat knows that Claudia would not skip out on meals.

Also the line “I know what I’d do, but you cut my hands off.” Like!!!!! Fucked up Nikki reference. 😭

Also Lestat reading the diary and the dairy being so graphic ugh… 🤢

Everything is just such a mess… oh boy… with all the bodies coming up

And of course Tom Anderson is trying to distract Loustat since the Police chief is there in the speakeasy.

I feel so much anxiety with all the cops in their home! And Claudia is not helping! 😬

There are still some comical bits such as the “We sell… incinerators.” Louis’s little shrug at Lestat. “To various American cities.” The delivery is actually very funny.

Also what’s funny is Claudia’s acting when the cop opens her door. Her face when she drops the blanket and the closet door opens to show the rotting man.

But all the fun and games stop when the cop is homophobic.

Yes Lestat is a jerk and treats Claudia like shit and still sees Antoinette so Claudia only feels like she has to leave.

Also establishing that Claudia is unable to turn people is a great thing to set up now.

And even though it’s heartbreaking I do love that Claudia gets mad at Louis for not just taking her to a hospital but made Lestat turn her into this monster. Bailey’s acting is just so perfect here.

We go back to Dubai and Daniel is telling Louis some harsh truths about what the public could do with Claudia. Yikes

And their home turns into a ruin after they wake up from their long nap

Man…Fuck Bruce

The part where Louis makes Daniel’s Parkinson’s go out of control as always annoyed me even if Daniel was stepping out of bounce it just never sat right to me. And of course Armand is there to ‘calm Louis down’

We go back once again and we see the scene of Louis saying his final goodbye to Grace and his makes Claudia come home after everything.

Lestat is such a bitch when she comes home. I understand what he is trying to do but it’s just all wrong.

And the fight happens. We will revisit what happened during the fight in the coffin room that we don’t get to see. But as an indication by some parts of the trailer we have already seen a glimpse of it. Hopefully the writers handle it well…

Also the during the drop scene it sounds a lot like what Armand said to Lestat before pushing him off a tower in TVL so I guess we’ll see what comes of it.

Okay good got through that one. Now I can get back to some class work lol.

I cannot believe that we are now 3 weeks away from seeing the premier for season 2 and for some of you, you will be seeing it in about a week and a half. Good luck to the NYC people that get to see it early.

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feiandart · 29 days

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Posting 'em here again just to boost a bit my motivation today. I made 'em back in december, one of the first drawing I have ever made for myself only.

Will talk 'bout myself and my past from here, can skip it if you don't want my oversharing shit.

So. I used to work as a commission artist for years (5-6 if I'm not wrong), drew bit of anything you could think of and mainly sticked to NSFW art for most of my, uh, let me call that "carreer" even if it's probably the wrong term to use for it. Well, it paid my bills and rent for years, so we may stick to it anyway.

Thing is, I stopped drawing when I was eighteen. People, family first, always told me talent in art was all, practice would never have made it better and I should have kept it as a hobby rather than something to do as a job. Apart from my closest friends, no one encouraged me to practice and study and put real effort on it. I went to an art-based highschool (only because I couldn't focus on studying any subject, and art school is considered one in which you don't actually study at all here, so my parents thought it better to put me there as I wanted "so you can still graduate"), but I couldn't go ahead with art studies in professional comic schools, academies or any artistic department in university. No support on that front. Something like "be Caravaggio or be nobody" mindset was stuck into my head and I started actually believing that it was true. And since I was, and am not, Caravaggio, then what was the point? So I dropped the pencil and just forgot how to draw a fuckin' line for literal years.

Then I turned 22. I moved to another city for my studies. After completing 'em, my parents said me to come back home and I said no. They stopped paying anything for me since that moment, so I had to make things works on my own. Hopefully my rent was really low, so I could afford it with minimum effort, but had to buy groceries with coupons (not a common thing in Italy) and eat a lot less to make 'em last as much as possible. I found a job in a call-center, I cleaned houses and handed flyiers to people. And that's when I found out I cannot really be in social context for too long.

In the end I burned out, left all jobs and was stuck in bed for a month. I was barely 24, without a job, holding tight the little bit of freedom I ever got. I felt helpless and hopeless. I don't remember if my bestfriend or my housemate, but one of 'em said me to come back at drawing and givin' it a shot. What harm could that do afterall, could have been pocket money for a bit if it couldn't stick to something better.

I started from pencil. Then went to digital in a couple months. I practiced, started quite immediately taking commissions and honest to God I don't have the slightest clue of how someone whould spend money on some shit I drew without basic anathomy knowledge and after that much time without drawing. Still have no idea. So I drew. I made some quick animations, never did much there thought. Grew a little fanbase, went on with it for years. I even moved with my bestfriend, living with her alone for two years, got a cat I love that it's my actually support companion right now.

I felt happy for a bit, I believe. Imposter syndrome is always watching me afterall, that never stopped. It's just like there's another person in the room with me all day, whispering me I should do more 'cause I don't deserve any attention. Ugh.

However. I went on with that until 2023. I had to come back to my parent's house in 2022 and got stuck in here since then. Nightmare years. Still a nightmare period, but I'm managing. Thing is, past year I burned out so much I completed all my left commissions in a rush and actually dropped my tablet for months. I used it as a third screen, took away the pen and the glove and swore I would never ever be back at drawing again. Will not go into details of what triggered that burnout, but you got the point, I didn't want to draw again in my life at that time.

This is pretty much when Good Omens entered the room. It was late September, I saw a lot of videos on tiktok and since I watched S1 years ago, I decided to give it a shot to S2 too. It was an istant hyperfocus. Watched all over for weeks, both in italian, in english, in english with italian subs and english with english subs. Never done anything like that in my life before. By the end of October I came back at writing. So I started to arrange things for Up&Down, my first fic after uhm, like 15 years or so. And it felt so good! I went through 42 days of deep writing, posting a chapter a day just for myself. 'cause I wanted to write something I liked for the sole purpose of liking it. And it felt so liberating!

Then I thought: will this apply to drawing too, maybe?

Answer is YES. It did. I was inspired from the fandom, from MrGhostRat's art and Gleafer's, and started drawing again. I dug into english fanfictions, fandom artists I love, and the list just gets longer day by day. I started writing Sugar, and with it I started drawing illustrations for it.

I went from the image to the left to the one to the right in two months. Guys, I'll repeat it: TWO MONTHS. I never had such a quick improvement in years, practicing every fuckin' day, drawing my hands out of my bloody body. I drew for 5-6 years and never got to improve this much. I did now. And you know why?

'cause I started drawing for myself. I'm doing something I love. And I'm getting better at it.

And you know what? I'm quite angry now. 'cause if I didn't stop years ago, who knows where I could have been now. If I didn't listen to people saying me "be Caravaggio or be nobody", I could have done so much more by now. Maybe I could have been able to draw fuckin' furnitures by now. Maybe I would have started being able to draw the same face two times in a row years ago insted of now.

Maybe I could have been the comic artist I wanted to be. Maybe not the best in the world, but I don't fuckin' care of being the best one, I want to be one I'm proud of. I didn't get the chance 'cause out there is full of people without a dream who's only purpose in life is destroying other people hopes.

And you know what? I'm done with that. I'm done with people saying me I'm not a gifted child. I'm done with people coming at me saying I cannot do shit I love 'cause they have reason to make me do something different. People thinks to know what's good for me but I'm fuckin' 30 and I think I know it pretty well already, thank you very much.

I'm managing how to get hold of my choices and things I love now that I'm an adult, but dear Lord I keep on thinking of my young self and I want to hug that poor thing so much I can't explain. I'd love to say her everything's going to be hard, but good in some way. That things are difficult, but they will change. That people are shit, but she should be strong and fight back. 'cause I did it too late and I regret now, but she deserved better.

You deserves better. And I'm talking to anyone who's reading this. I don't know if you went all the way 'til here, but if you did: don't make my same mistakes. You know better than me. Don't let people spoil the things you love, don't give 'em power to destroy your will and put you in a closet for the time being. You don't deserve that.

Don't miss your chance 'cause people doesn't want to see you happy to be yourself. Don't do that. They don't deserve that power over you.

Love yourself more than I loved myself. I'm starting just now and it's hell. You can do better, I promise.

#good omens art #good omens #sugar #up&down #deep down fei's heart #overthinking #personal shit #motivation #motivating myself #get motivated

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petra-creat0r · 5 months

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Annual Update 2024

Alright everyone! New year, new updates for all my stuff!

Starting with ...

AtDFF and AYC

(The new signatures for my main art, AtDFF, and AYC)

As some, and by that I mean most of you have probably noticed, I rebooted AtDFF... again. I technically started a revamp all the way back in 2020 where I was redrawing the older updates to better match the current style and reformat the asks and text for better readability, but that didn't impede on the main updates (well, besides putting more onto mine and the rest of the team's work load.)

The Reboot

This past year though, I made the decision to completely reboot the comic for a few reasons. One was an attempt to renew my motivation, another was wanting to rework some of the lore, yet another was being inspired by @askfallenroyalty to remake the comic and post to ComicFury, but I think the main factor was... I wasn't all that happy with it. I think I kept comparing it to other comics, especially Fallen Royalty, which is my own issue, please don't go blaming anyone else. I knew I could do better, especially after over 5 years working on this, but now looking back, part of me feels that, rebooting it again is, in a way, diminishing those years. Even with the 2020 revamp, prior to it you could go through the updates and really look at how my art has progressed, and though true you can still scroll and find the old updates, it's just... not quite the same. Same can be said for the 2023 reboot.

Does that mean I'm going back on the reboot? No. I already have the next updates planned (I just haven't had a chance to work on them that often) and I really like the new lore of the world that I've come up with. I just think this will be the last time I ever reboot the comic. Whatever happens, happens, and I need to just roll with it. Even if what happens is our little roadtrip getting derailed into a corn field again, lol.

Comic Fury and New Comic?

With that said, what do I have in store for the new reboots of AtDFF and AYC? (yes AYC got rebooted too, I just haven't posted the first update like I did with AtDFF) Well, I mentioned a Comic Fury, which surprise. Both AtDFF and AYC have their own Comic Fury pages now! Don't worry, I still plan on posting to Tumblr as well, but now you can also find them on Comic Fury. Along with another comic I'm planning to do (eventually), Undertale-ish: The Comic. Ever wonder what Ish Frisk's journey through the Underground was like? Want to see what happened in most (not all) of their 800 runs? Want to see this child grapple with their self insecurities, perfectionism, and the responsibility of having full control over time and an entire civilization's lives in the palm of their hand? Want to see Chara as a ghost? Well that's what you'll get with Undertale-ish: The Comic! Coming I don't know since I such at scheduling and time management for these things!

Schedule

Speaking of scheduling! When are any of these comics coming out? Well... I just said I suck with schedules, and I can't promise really... anything when it comes to release but like... I know I for sure would like to release things... regularly? Even with the start of the reboot, I started it in April, and that stuff extended until at least August. Every summer I naively think "Oh! I'm gonna have so much time to work on the comic!" and then I get a summer job. Because I'm nearly 20 and going to college and even if I'm still living under my parent's roof, I can't entirely rely on my dad to pay my tuition. Only for half the year. Then during the school year, I have classes, and I feel burned out by the time I get home, and- It's a whole thing I need to find someway to work around or else nothing gets done and my brain just screams at itself. So, I think scheduling is something I'm gonna figure out throughout January, and try and get a backlog of updates ready throughout February to April or May so maybe we can start posting again in summer. Does that feel like a long wait? Even being near a year from the first update of the AtDFF reboot? Yes. But also I'm trying to over estimate and give myself the time and space I need while still attending college, and I wouldn't just be working on one comic update, but multiple. I'm trying to give myself space and some grace instead of making promises that feel hollow after a while of being unfufilled.

Lack of Motivation and How to Fix

Another thing to address, is my motivation when it comes to these series. I don't think it's accurate to say I've felt completely unmotivated to work on either comic, I mean, I was motivated for some of the beginning of last year to full on overhaul them, but I will say that, these comics have started to feel like a job. It's been something I've felt for a couple years now, where I've been having less fun with the comic as it's begun to feel like actual work. Believe me, I'm super excited for some of the later plot points of both AtDFF and AYC, and I love Undertale-ish and these characters but to get to those points or character moments, it feels like I'm slogging through what comes before it, which isn't good. This is something that sure, rebooting helped for a bit, before I got caught up in school and other stuff, but it's not a permanent solution and I've felt myself slipping back into the comic feeling like a job.

So how might I remedy this? Well, I think the solution might lie in another series I started this year, Drawing Junior Secret Squad until Chapter 3. Even if DJSSuC3 is more Deltarune focused, I've enjoyed drawing Chicago and my other fankids pretty much daily as, there's not that much pressure on it. Definitely not like there is with AtDFF or AYC. I don't have to line, or even color them since, they're just little doodles. I don't have to worry about missing a day since, I'll just do multiple the next day. They're quick, they're easy, I can just draw whatever idea I have with the characters I want, I'm having fun. Back when Ask the Dreemurr-Font Family was nothing but an ask chat on Amino, that's what I did it for. For fun. I wasn't worried with popularity or being like other creators, I just did silly little character driven roleplays for fun. I think that's been my issue with the comics. They aren't fun anymore. They're work because, I feel it's my job to tell this story rather than just... telling it because I want to. So, I think going forward, I'm gonna try to have more fun with the comics and Ish in general. For you all, that's probably gonna look like more sketches and doodles getting posted and maybe even just sharing small comics based off ideas that pop into my brain or from roleplays that happened in my server. Little things to help me regain the enjoyment I had with these comics and world.

Deltarune: Fool's Fate

I think that's all I've got to say on the Undertale based comics, so how about now we move onto something Deltarune related? As I was doing DJSSuC3, I introduced an idea called Deltarune: Fool's Fate. Aka, Chicago and Co's adventures through the Dark Worlds after Kris denied their destiny. So far, this has just been little doodles, character designs, and a roleplay I've been doing in my discord server. I've been having quite a bit of fun with that RP, we're nearly to the end of what would be the first "chapter" and have been fighting Dorothy, the secret boss of the Attic Dark World and who some of y'all might recall I made a real life doll of when my old computer finally kicked the bucket earlier this month. (I've still yet to make her dress or crown) I think roleplays have always been the thing I find the most enjoyable when it comes to character exploration as, I don't have to spend forever drawing comics and I get to sorta live through the characters. It's something I've been doing for characters from even before I was in this fandom. With the Fool's Fate roleplay too, I've also got to come up with elements that could feasibly be in an actual video game without, you know, actually coding a video game.

I don't know where Fool's Fate will go from here, while it'd be cool to have it be an actual fangame, I don't have that sort of skill. Nor the budget to pay a team. (My team for the comics is really just a bunch of friends I convinced to help me out for free.) Even with a sprite comic, it'd be too much. So, for now, it'll likely just remain a concept and roleplay. But, who knows. Maybe someday I could make it into something. I mean, after watching this year's Underevent I wanted to.

Other stuff

With all the UTDR stuff out of the way, what about some of my other stuff? (Because, surprise, Undertale and Deltarune aren't the ONLY things I do. Just the things I hyperfixate on the most.) Well, I've got my Fakemon region, Azmayca, POW-R, Dragon Riders, and Kinder Eyes which I started last summer. I don't really have any plans for them, asides from bugging people for ideas and doodling whenever I'm in the mood. However I think starting this year, I'm gonna try to post more of the doodles I make. Either ones in my sketchbook since DJSS gave me the confidence to post sketchy silly little doodles like that, or sketch doodles I draw digitally as warm ups. Though who knows. Maybe a hyperfixation swing some time during the summer will cause me to actually try to do something crazy like outline the whole Azmayca region and hypothetical game. Hopefully not something like that though. Making the evolutions of my redesigns of the starters might be nice.

Commissions

Another thing I'd like to finally do next year is update my commissions sheet. It's something I've had in the work for a while now, and was working on along side launching the comic updates. But, like the comics, school and work got in the way so... I sorta forgot about it. Regardless! I'm gonna try to post my updated sheet some time within the next few months, it's mostly just been havin to draw or find recent examples of my work. Hopefully then I'll actually get some more commissions because, um *looks at the whooping $3.94 in my checking account* I could really use the extra money. I might work during the summers and get grade payments from my dad but, that stuff is to pay my tuition and some of my lunches during the semester, and even with lunches, 500 dollars is spread thin through 17, 16 ish weeks. That's like, only $30 a week, which is maybe enough to cover buying lunch at the campus food court like, once or twice from the food court. Maybe three times if I'm lucky and conservative with my spending. Not to mention that $300 of that went to my new laptop, and even if I should be getting $300 from a paycheck I was never paid back when I worked at Arby's 3 summers ago, I still haven't gotten that gift card in the mail so... Yeah. If I was living on my own, I'd be screwed. Which is why commissions and Patreon are like, my only source of income during the school year. (I still need to look into getting an on campus job for this upcoming semester but that's its own whole big can of worms.)

Patreon

Speaking of Patreon, that's another goal I want to set. Actually posting to it again. I had a burst early last year were I was regularly posting to Patreon with early access chapters of The Puppet and the Real Boy (before I retconned that with Fool's Fate) and thanks to my only Patreon ever @kierangecko, I managed to make around $50 bucks which ended up being used to help get blanks for some of my Christmas gifts for people (thank you Gecko. I know I did stop posting after like, May, but that money really came in handy.) So for this next year, I'm gonna try to post to that again. Be it WIPs of the comic, scripts, little doodles I don't post on Tumblr or whatever, I want to make Patreon another source of income. Which involves posting to it at least monthly. And even if I don't, then you guys won't have to worry about anything since I've got it set to not charge for months I don't post anything.

Resolution Review

So, to review some of my... I guess you could call them resolutions, though I'd rather think of them as goals I don't absolutely have to hold myself too but would just like to accomplish, I'd like to...

Have more fun when with AtDFF and AYC through drawing and posting more loose, silly comics and doodles

Try figuring out a posting and work schedule for AtDFF and AYC by then end of January

Hopefully get a back log of updates for both comics ready to release by summer

Start on and release Undertale-ish: The Comic sometime this year

Keep doing Drawing Junior Secret Squad until Chapter 3 until Chapters 3 and 4 of Deltarune hopefully come out sometime this year.

Possibly design hypothetical secret boss predictions for Chapters 4 and 5 of Deltarune before the next chapters come out.

Keep working on, designing characters for, and coming up with Dark Worlds for Deltarune: Fool's Fate. Perhaps even drawing some tarot cards with the chapter bosses.

Post more about my other projects, even if they're only sketchbook drawings or warm up doodles.

Update my commissions page and hopefully take more commissions to earn some extra money/save up for college or to move out.

Post regularly to my Patreon, also to earn some extra money.

Generally have a better year than 2023 and to find more enjoyment in my art and projects.

Closing

Ho boy! That was... A lot! This has turned out to be one very long post. Hehe. Well, should be over now that I've said all I need too. Also, if I haven't said it already, I'd like to thank all of you for supporting me and my art. Be it my comics, DJSSuC3, my other projects, or anything I've posted this year. It means a lot to me that people even like what I draw and you all mean the world to me. With all of that out of the way, thank you Creative Creators and I hope you have a Happy New Year.

#happy new year #update post #long post #petra's annual update #undertale ish #ask the dreemurr-font family #ask young chara #deltarune: fool's fate #drawing jr. secret squad until chapter 3 #djssuc3 #atdff #ayc #undertale-ish: the comic #azmayca #kinder eyes #pow-r #dragon riders #petra rambles

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