#Now I will rest because I'm tired xD

[crystalline-kai]

I wanted to see the plant twins in traditional wedding kimonos. So I had to draw them myself~ 👘🧑🏼‍❤️‍🧑🏼

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Indefinite hiatus

I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.

Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.

Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.

Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.

I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.

To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.

I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.

And that's all I've got to say for now.

[angels-fantasy]

Hii this is my first ever request so I'm so sorry if it's bad😭 But recently this has been like in the back of my head and I couldn't find any fics abt it. So basically it's Brothers best friend Bakugo... I'm low-key so embarrassed but I thought it would be cool for some angst 🤭 I love your works and I hope I'm not bothering, i hope you have a nice day!!

My Brother's Bestfriend Is The One For Me!

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details: umm little confessions at the end tee hee, nothing too crazy. reader gets in their head about some tingz, silly katsuki

Word Count: 1k

hello im sorry i replied a little late, thank you sm for your request this is an awesome idea :D i hope you have a nice day too <3 i tried my best at some angst 🥲 i hope i did your request justice! also plsss someone know what im referencing in the title lolol. its not exact but its close XD

ever since you were a kid, you had a crush on your older brother's best friend-katsuki bakugou-who was also older than you, but only by two years! so it wasn't that bad, really.

watching him grow up into the handsome man he is now was hard, especially when you were always seen as the annoying, younger sibling that just wanted to hang out with the older kids.

though something that was even harder was having to watch people throw themselves at your childhood crush, only to see them grow disappointed at his arrogant personality.

this frustrated you because you knew katsuki better than any of those losers did. you knew how to work around his rough edges, how to tell apart his real anger from his teasing words, and so many other things about him.

but if you knew him better than everyone else that was interested in him, why didn't he want you back? did he still only see you as his best friend's annoying, younger sibling? he couldn't have, right?

that exact thought lingered in your mind every time katsuki was around. there was no way you didn't have at least a small chance with him, especially considering the fact that he'd never had a serious relationship before. it wasn't that he couldn't get one, because he definitely could, but it was because he chose not to.

katsuki was ambitious, and he didn't want to let anything get in his way while he was training to become a pro-hero, and that included relationships. now maybe you were naive for this, but sometimes you really thought you were different in his eyes, and you would have a chance with him.

so here you were, sitting at the dining table in your parents house across from katsuki. your brother had invited him over, like he usually did. you forgot the reason why, all you knew was that your crush was coming over, so you were excited.

but now that you were sitting across from him, you couldn't help but squirm in your seat nervously under his gaze.

"what's up with you?" he asked, causing your family to turn their attention towards you.

your face burned. "er-nothing. i'm just tired... i didn't sleep well last night." you lied, making katsuki squint at you while your family shrugged off your excuse and went back to their conversation.

the rest of the dinner continued on, with you occasionally picking at your food and glancing up at katsuki, who had caught you looking multiple times.

once everyone was done eating, you immediately offered to wash the dishes, just trying to find any excuse to get away from your crush's intense gaze. since you were cleaning up and it was late at night, you could hear your parents go to their bedroom and your brother tell katsuki he'd be waiting in his.

as you were washing dishes you felt a presence behind you, and you knew exactly who it was.

"hey, buggy." he said, ruffling up your hair and making you groan in annoyance. 'buggy' was your childhood nickname, given to you by none other than katsuki, when he found you playing with a few bugs one day.

he hasn't let you live it down since.

"i don't even play with bugs anymore! i was like five, katsuki." you said, growling at a particular stain that wouldn't wash off very easily.

he crossed his arms, and leaned against the counter next to you, silently watching as you continued to wash the rest of the dishes.

when you were done with the last dish, you dried your hands and turned to him. "why are you here, stalking me? shouldn't you be hanging out with my brother or something?" you snarled, getting frustrated at his company. usually, you'd appreciate it, but these past few weeks he'd been oddly quiet around you - especially when you two were alone.

"maybe i just wanna hang out with you, buggy. is that a problem?"

you clenched your fists, feeling your frustration boil over. how could he act like he wasn't doing anything wrong? did he not realize that he'd been making you feel flustered and confused all the time?? these past few months he'd been behaving strangely around you, and you didn't know what to think of it.

"stop messing with me." you said in a serious tone, looking down at your feet. "you always confuse me with all the shit you say and i hate it! i don't know what to think anymore!"

a part of you felt bad for yelling at him like this, but you couldn't help yourself.

you glanced up at his face and saw his shocked expression, and you wondered what he was going to say next. probably something stupid.

he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiky hair, "'m not tryna confuse you... i just-ugh. you're actually not a shitty person to talk to." he confessed, reluctantly of course.

you shook your head at his words. "you don't have to lie, i know i'm probably more of a little sibling in your eyes anyway." you said, making your way around him to go upstairs to your bedroom until he stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

"you actually think that?" he sneered.

"well it's what you make me think!"

your words made him sigh and he put his hands on your shoulders. "shut up and listen okay? i'm not good at this crap, so just let me talk." he demanded, making you pout, but nod in agreement.

"i like your dumbass and i just don't know any other way to tell you..." he said quietly with bright red ears. you just continued to stare at him, not believing his words, which scared him.

he shook your shoulders slightly, "say something dammit!"

"sorry! i...i just don't know what to say." you said, bring your hands up to your shoulders to grab his and hold them in your own. "but, i like you too. i have liked you for a long time."

after hearing yourself admit you like him out loud, you let go of his hands and brought them to your face to cover your burning cheeks.

he laughed his loud cackle and brought you in for a bear hug, "no way, little buggy actually likes me?" he teased, "i always thought you were scared or somethin'."

"well, i was scared sometimes..." you mumbled.

the two of you continued to embrace each other for a while, silently, until katsuki spoke up. "y'know you're mine now, right buggy?"

your heart fluttered, "only if you're mine too."

"obviously."

authors note

i lowkey got lazy in the end im sorry if you can tell 😔 but i hope you enjoyed !

taglist for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8K3KxtG/

I feel like if this happened to Naoya after he let his hair go natural he’d probably be booking an appointment to the salon that day XD

Heya anon!!!

OMG HAHAHAHAHAHAH I love how we all agree that Naoya dyeing his hair black once his roots show (or just not dyeing it at all) is like a bad idea lmao. Just like the top comment said, it was the only thing keeping the family together 😂😂😂😂

Anyways, this was such a treat to write. I'm always down for domestic yn/naoya shenanigans + our adorable naomi!!!!

warnings: none. fluff. naoya regrets his life. lol.

Happy reading!!!

Naoya deciding to dye his hair completely black wasn’t one that he chose personally, it was simply… a consequence of his surroundings.

He’d been out on missions for too long, that his dye naturally began to fade out, showing his dark roots and prompting him with the idea of…

“All black?” you ask; both were on videocall when he suggested the idea—Naoya stationed in some remote village he was deployed in, still days away from returning. “I haven’t seen you wear that look since… forever I think.”

“Naomi definitely hasn’t seen me like that.” He comments, and at the revelation, you gasp.

“Oh my god, that is true!” you smile. “Do you think she’ll notice? I don’t think so, she’s still pretty young… Though I know she’ll be happy to see her handsome papa again! Black hair, or not.”

Naoya smiles.

“I can’t wait to come back home either; it’s been horrible without my two princesses.”

“Well, hurry back! We’re tired of waiting for you…”

Naoya takes it seriously when you tell him to hurry, quick to finish whatever mission he was in before catching the earliest flight back home, but not without making one last stop; he usually dyed his hair by his own at that point, was considering so too…

But he wanted to make this a special surprise. It had been quite some time since he last mentioned it, so he’s sure you’ve probably forgotten about it by now, thus setting up the perfect opportunity to carry out his plans.

To say that he was excited about this whole ordeal was an understatement. Naoya was really looking forward to this change, and all because of one simple reason: Naomi’s reaction.

Ever since his little bundle of joy was born, life had become far more enjoyable, even with the littlest, most mundane of things. All had become a thrilling adventure he couldn’t wait to share with his daughter.  

Naoya never thought he’d ever come to enjoy the wonders of being a father, always thought it to be tedious, boring. And most importantly, fated to be with someone he wouldn’t care for.

But then you happened, and with time, little Naomi, completely changing his perspective of life.

Whatever thing he did, the sight of his adorable baby girl would cross his mind, wondering what kind of reaction she’ll have for the new toy he’ll bring her after the mission, her cute babbles whenever telling her of his day, as if she knew what he was saying…

Or in this scenario, if Naomi would be able to recognize him after completely dyeing his hair black.

A part of him hopes—no, knows so, because he knows his baby girl to be very attentive, and there’s something sweet about a daughter being able to distinguish her father through all circumstances.

Luckily, he won’t have to wait much to get his answer, for as soon as his hair was done, he went straight back to the estate, not even bothering to let you know beforehand (just to add to the surprise), eventually making a beeline to you, quickly taking you in his arms before you could even muster a hello and kissing you—it’s only when he pulls away that you’re able to acknowledge him, and his new hairstyle.

“Naoya! You dyed your hair black!” you bubbled, threading your fingers into his locks to relish both its softness and nostalgic color. “And your home too!”

“I did.” He smiles, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m home.”

“Ah, I missed you so much.” You sigh, resting your head against his chest. “Please tell me you’re not leaving until much, much later.”

“2 weeks.” He says sorrowfully—it’s more than last time, but still…

“…Well, let’s not talk about that anymore—let’s focus instead on our time together, with our adorable baby who missed you so much!”

“Where is she?” Naoya asks with unparalleled enthusiasm. “Is she awake?”

“With my staff, and yes, she just woke up actually!” You say, grabbing his hand and guiding him back to your shared bedroom. “Let’s go, now—I want to see her reaction to your new hair color!”

Just as you foretold, little Naomi was happily enjoying the company of your loyal staff, Mariya, Haruko and Hitomi, who treated your adorable baby as she were their own niece, taking her wherever they could when you’d unfortunately end up caught up with duties, which Naomi didn’t mind, if anything, she was all to happy to be spoiled rotten (even more) by her aunts!

And how could she not? With all their gifts and antics, Naomi was nothing if not overjoyed to be the center of their attention!

Yet, nothing they did could ever compare t0 the happiness of seeing her father return home, the papa that you always made sure to remind her loved her very much, even through the distance that is often imposed by his job.

Once the family is reunited, your staff bids their regards to Naoya before leaving, allowing much needed privacy for the sweet moment that is to occur next. they leave to give them much needed privacy,

“Naomi!” Naoya says as soon as he laid eyes on his little bundle of joy, swooning when noticing the cute romper you’d dressed her up in, the same one he got her a few weeks ago: the yellow one with a little duck stitched in the front pocket. “My little mochi, I’m home!”

He reaches for her, extending his arms to pick her up and give her all the kisses and hugs he’s been holding onto since he left, completely forgetting about the reaction he so desperately wanted to see—

But the moment he does so, Naoya feels his baby tense up, a soft whine escaping her lips as her chubby little hands attempted to push him away, a reaction so different to her usually bubbly, welcoming personality, that his heart couldn’t help but shatter a bit in return.

“What’s wrong, dumpling?” He asks. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Nnngah!” Naomi cries as she attempts to push him away once more, but Naoya persists, that is, until a sharp wail makes him realize it was something graver.

“Naomi, why are you crying??” Naoya frets, attempting to comfort her by gently rocking her—to no avail. “Is it your diaper?? Or are you hungry??”

It takes you a few moments to understand what’s happening, but when you do, you’re not even able to laugh about it, too preoccupied instead in comforting your poor crying daughter, who was upset from innocently confusing her papa for Naobito’s son #27.

She shouldn’t be blamed—couldn’t. Naomi was still in the age where she has difficulties setting apart those that similarly look like her father, after all, like the rest of Naoya’s brothers.

Naomi was only able to calm down after you took her back into her arms, the only person she seemed to recognize at the moment, gently bouncing her until her cries eventually diminished.

But the damage was done, and as soon as your little mochi was placed back onto her crib, too tired out from crying, Naoya rushes straight to the exit, mind set on one thing:

“I’m dying my hair back blonde.”

“Naoya—It’s just a matter of her getting used to you!” you gasp, attempting to stop him. “You don’t need to do that!”

“I don’t want her to cry because of me ever again.” He insists. “I’ve already arranged the appointment; I’m heading out now. And while I’m at it, I’ll also buy Naomi more toys, hopefully she’ll be able to forgive me.”

“That won’t—” you wish to push the idea out of Naoya’s mind, tell him that perhaps he’s exaggerating, but you could see the sadness in his eyes, that notion that he genuinely believed needed this to feel better about himself.

So, you let him, giving him a kiss while asking him to not to do anything outrageous; Naoya’s spending could be quite… excessive when upset, you’d know that better than anyone. Although something tells you it might be worse now that Naomi is involved…

Nonetheless, by the time Naoya returns with his hair effectively back to blonde, Naomi is now able to identify him as her beloved papa, cheerfully reaching out for him to receive her well-deserved dosage kisses and hugs, as well as all the toys he brought along to ease his mistakes—it’s almost like that unspeakable incident never occurred! Much to Naoya’s delight.

And while upsetting at the moment, this is an anecdote you’d eventually recount with humor in the future, about the time Naomi didn’t recognize her father because of his hair dye, and how Naoya almost went to the end of the world to redeem himself.

Though both would deny it, of course. Thankfully, you have a good memory.

I'm sorry I had to call Naoya Naobito's son #27 but let's be real, they all look alike (In my hc that is) HOW COULD NAOMI NOT CONFUSE HIM? HAHAHAHAH Poor man, well, thankfully Naomi forgave him once he fixed his mistake :) you won't see Naoya with black hair anymore, though you'd come to regret not being able to "relieve the good ol days" 😳😳😳😳

Anyways, thank you sososos much for sending in this I LOVE DOMESTIC AU WITH NAOYA our redeemed little dork. Ah, I really needed this after last chapter's ordeal 😏 keep 'em coming 🤭

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[shycroissanti]

Kishin could have both Human/demon future. What if whatever turns him into a human? instead of giving him a way to shapeshift into a human. He already can shift into a bean and teach other demons. So this progression of shapeshifting skill could seamlessly turn him human -mainly just his appearance-. He can already walk in the sunlight. this form could let him eat basic human food again. and not scare normal humans. when he's in this form even demons might mistake him for one. But he could shift back into his demon appearance. the demon that tried to attack him the upper moon 2 or Irina would regret it. He would be slightly weaker in this Human form but strong enough to punch a weaker demon out. ( I love Kishin alternative future AU Upper Moon 2 and if you do make it the canonical future. I would love it. but if you want a form of "Human" Kishin this is my idea.)

I'M LOVING THESE IDEAS!!! ((o(^∇^)o))✨️💖

So, I don't know if this makes much sense with the KNY universe, because initially the idea was for Kishin to return to being fully human after the final battle🤔

But like this, Takahiro no longer makes any sense in the anime's canon story, so I'm already considering these ideas for my original story xD

In the future:

Kishin has become the upper 2, Takahiro, Yudi and Zenshin who are the biggest threats (because they are the strongest demons) are now more friendly with others and don't cause as many problems as before.

Now everything is more peaceful (of course there are still several threats and dangers in the world, but the main characters had some time to rest/train). Kishin spent some time training and meditating to improve his abilities, until he reached a point where he can kind of transform into a human again.

(This is also likely because Kishin has a completely clear conscience, as he has never attacked any human)

Now a small drawing that I made imagining his design:

(I did it digitally so it would be easier to color X3)

The marks on his body remain, so he only hides the upper moon mark.

His hair changes color with each transformation.

His eyes return to white in his human form.

So, just one additional piece of information: Takahiro can very well disguise himself as a human with ease, but in his case it is by pure luck, since he barely has any demonic appearance (like horns or claws) the only thing he is able to do is change the color of his eyes✨️

And since this is in a slightly more distant future, Irina is already in her black hole phase, so Kishin and Irina changed almost simultaneously :3

Now Kishin can change form whenever it is more convenient, I imagine this can make him a bit tired at first, that's why he spends most of his time in his new human form and transforms into a demon again when he needs to fight.

Le tags💖

@c00kietin @larz-barz @knyinfinity @demonslayerdoodles @night-mince10001 @scaredyfurry2 @pinkwisteria @giyubabe @pulim-v @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @tor-the-tortilla @zenitsustherapist @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @sunbrokenswords

[naranja-301]

I HAD NO IDEA THIS COULD HAPPEN!

So many people interacting on my twitter I feel a bit overwhelmed so...HI GUYS HOW ARE YA?? XD

So like, after doing this I think in the possibility of Fiddleford interacting with some of the other Stans of a different era so...yeah.

I'm not gonna make this a long (lier btch) thing bc 1, my brain is tired and 2 out of much ideas BUT I still want to write this idea I have.

Scenario: Fidds it's feeling tired, he was working to much, even more with the appear of all this Stanleys because of the new copy machine he and Ford made. And sure, the other Stans noticed the tiredness of the farm man, specially one with a colorfull Red and purple suit. Even with all the inner toughs that are troubling the con man, he tries to offer help…at least a bit.

Fidds is on his way to his room, his hair messy and with some eyeshadowns below his eyes, he worked for a couple of days with Ford about how they can return the efect of the machine bc this one alike the photocopy cannot erase the clones via water. Ford excused this because "any time he slipped and dropped some of his coffee on the clones he made of himself the clone dropped down" but then understood that yeah, maybe that would be more convenient than just not being able to erase them when no longer needed.

while opening the door of his room he can remenber well how Stanley make his way to him, talking in a nervious voice and trembling hands how when "looking" at the machine all these clones of himself came out one be one and he had no idea how to stop it but break it, now he was out, sended be Ford to look at replacements to fix the machine and meanwhile figure out how to return all Stanleys to their era, or just get rid of them.

He lays on his bed, leaving a tired sigh, hands on his stomac looking at the ceiling.

He was about to close his eyes and get some sleep but them he hears a knock from the door, it sounds soft, almost like if the person on the other side was doubting to do it and that coughs the attentions of Fiddleford, who with a groan stands up from his bed and walks to the door, opening it and meeting with one of the Stans, the one that tried to sell him some "rip-offs", leaning on the corner of the door and looking at his side, a bit unconfortable with his hand on the neck of his shirt.

"You...eh...you ok?"

It was kind of surprising see the man that talked to him with such a confident and even a bit cocky attitude talking with him with such a low, almost wipered voice. but sure Fiddleford noticed the unconford and tension in it and he could only think than damn, sinse many time Stan felt that inconfort to even get a bit close to anyone? to feel like he could be in danger if he made a step foard and just...show he cared?

"yeah, I'm ok, just...a bit tire' is all..."

There is an akward silence after that, none of them seemed to dare to talk, one because of the insecurity and doubt of keep talking and the other because of the fatigue he felt.

Fiddleford was about to talk again when some words that that Stankey said shutted his mouth.

"Want a massage?"

"what now?"

"that if you- agh....that if you want a massage...you are here because of me isn't it?...Can I...help a bit?"

That sure is...a proposition. A massage? at the mention of the offer Fiddleford could feel even more the pain on his back and shoulders, his body craving for relaxation and rest after so much work.

He is about to answer when his mind stops in track because the one who is asking him for it is Stanley but not his Stanley, it would be ok to allow this "stranger" aproach to him? even if it was for something so maybe odd or maybe simple thing as a massage?

"...I think...that would be nice. Thanks Stanley"

[fic-heaven]

A rabbit's wooden foot (Alex Keller x reader)

Mutual pinning/ slight angst/ first kiss/ insecurities/ brief description of Alex's stump.

🐥 I'm trying to write Alex at the best of myhabilites xd

-Your longtime crush, Alex Keller has been suffering from a limp because of a leg prosthetic he's been using. It's up to you to help him with the rash. One thing led to the other and your feelings for him come to light, but the fear of breaking his bond with Farah makes you think twice before crossing the friendship barrier with him.

.

"Shhhhhhiiiiit..... Fuck! Ah-!"

If anyone passed near Alex's tent, they'd think the worst. The American's moans and groans were loud enough that if it wasn't because it was three in the morning and everyone was sleeping, he wouldn't hear the end of it from Farah.

"Jesus, Alex. You've got a huge rash..." You scolded him as you spotted his red hot stump illuminated by his all lamp from your spot on the other corner of his tent

He looks at you with a pained grin "Yeah, 't feels like I dropped hot chilli on ma' leg." Alex exhales while he tries to accommodate himself on the makeshift bed flopping on his back. He was dressing more comfortably, wearing shorts and a plain navy blue shirt a few sizes bigger with a bunch of bleach stains here and there. His hands messily fought to undo the few straps left painfully gripping at his thigh, eager to get this hellish leg prothesis off and treat the damage it had done to his poor reddened stump. Curses were growled under his breath while you rushed to take your shoes and gear off, he was so tired he was about to give up and sleep with the demonic leg, but that was something Alex very well knew wouldn't happen, as you were so worried for his health you wouldn't allow it.

After a long patrolling day together you noticed a limp on the blonde's step. He was still adapting to his new leg, and it didn't prove sturdy enough for him on the last mission he had. It broke just when he was returning with Farah thanks to the sand and rocky terrain, and it had to be replaced immediately. Farah offered him a few days of rest, at least until they got it fixed properly or find a new one, but Alex was so stubborn he claimed that he didn't want to feel useless or drag you all down, so instead, he had it changed to some other trashy discarded prosthetic that caused his recent limp and rash making you extremely worried.

"God damn... this stupid prosthetic..." Alex cursed. His pretty eyes crinkle and his nose scrunched in irritation and pain as your hands carefully helped him free his thigh from the straps of the fake leg.

Your flicked his nose. "Good thing I'm here t' help. You wouldn't be able to tie off your own shoe if you were left alone."

Alex gave you a fake laugh fixing you a playful glare, he didn't want to give you the satisfaction of admitting such thing. But you knew he was grateful of your support despite still feeling embarrassed of his own stump.

"Is it-..." After a quick, close inspection to the leg piece now detached, you gasped horrified. "Is it made out of fucking wood!? Are you out of your mind!?"

"Wha-! No? I just wore what they gave me!" He exclaimed slumping on his cozy bedroll, hands nervously fidgeting with the rim of his shirt.

"Is it worth the pain? Fuck, if i cry over wearing high heels I can't fathom the level of pain you have been feelin' wearing this thing. I'm sure walking around with a toothpick for a leg would have hurted less." This time you moved closer to his side sitting right next to him on the floor, your hand fished the bottle of lotion Farah had given you from your bag and Alex sat up a bit already feeling better at the sight of the medicine.

"Haha, yeah... Good thing I don't get to wear high heels on duty, or a toothpick." He jokes but you don't laugh, his head tilts a bit when he spots the worry in your pretty face.

Alex then pokes your side making you giggle a bit "I dunno if you've noticed, cookie, but my job requires my full attention 24/7. I can wait one more day for the replacement," you glared at him and he explained ''I won't be wearing this old thing any longer though, I promise, I already accepted the short break Farah practically forced me t'take."

You sighed, your expression turning sour as your eyes lingered on his stump, your hand rests on his knee while the other caresses his hairy thigh comfortingly tainting his cheeks pink. Alex was looking at you entranced, visibly enamoured at the sight of you worrying so much for your battle mate.

"You should have told me... I would have taken care of everything, pay close attention to you, or... Replaced you." Alex went on to speak eager to protest but you silenced him with a stern look, your beautiful eyes looking down at him with more disappointment than he could bare. "You've got me worried sick," you whisper, your trembling hands massage his sore leg expressing your concern. "To see you groaning and limping around for God knows how long broke something in me, Alex... You may be the bravest, most strongest man I know, but you are not indestructible. Would it hurt you to lay back a bit? Can't you just rest for one minute? You already gave us all a scare by disappearing and returning with one leg..." Your chest heaves at the memory. You secretly cried for days when you saw what they did to your Alex unintentionally avoiding him while you closed yourself. That strained your friendship for a while as he thought you avoided him out of disgust and shame, but the way you begun slowly approaching Alex again and kept expressing your concerns for him made him realize that his own insecurities were playing with his mind.

He wanted to kiss your worries away, to tell you that you are his lucky charm that saved him from any demise. Instead, he gave you a very small "heh." Followed by the smallest but prettiest of smiles, his eyes showing nothing but love and endearment. "What would I do without you...?" It was a very short answer, and yet his expression told a thousand words, enough to suffice you.

Then, Alex extended his palm your way waiting for you to hand him the bottle so he'd treat his rash. You blessed him with soft smile in return followed by a short, little nod. Though, when you gave him the bottle, your other hand gripped his wrist quickly as to not let him scape quickly changing your mind.

"Can I?" You weakly asked staring deep into his vulnerable eyes.

"Y-you want to-..." The blonde stuttered realizing what you meant. "...You sure...?"

Alex felt a little self-conscious, afraid you'd be disgusted at the prospect of touching his mangled leg any further. But his worries went ignored when you took the lotion back quickly reading his discomfort, you nuzzle his cheek comfortingly with your finger for a second making him nuzzle his nose on your hand before you took it back to warm your hands and splurt some cream on your palms.

"You chose to be reckless and use a stick for a leg as if you were a fucking pirate. I can't trust you with your own rash, I'll help you however you need." You say in finality with a playful smirk.

He bashfully smiled a bit suddenly feeling frisky "However I need?" He internally asked loving the undertone of that sentence. Alex shakes his head giving up on fighting your cares, he then rises his chest a bit so that he'd sit closer to you until you suddenly push him down the bedroll with two fingers. He huffed surprised rising his hands in defeat, pretty ocean eyes widen at your stern but playful stare. He melted on the spot, aroused by the sudden dominance.

"Cookie..." Alex called your pet name lowly, just when you returned his gace from your task he composed himself. "Gosh just... Be careful, it stings like hell."

"Don't worry, I'll give you the greatest massage you have ever gotten. And if you don't cry, I might give you a lollipop when I'm done." You smiled widely.

He blinked slowly huffing a charming laugh. "This massage is already a reward. But I'm a sucker for treats, y' won't hear me complaining..." What a golden retriever of a man.

The faint light from the lamp near the bedroll created a warm atmosphere in the dark tent, and having you so willing to massage his sore leg made Alex feel as if he was dreaming. You could say the same. It all looked like one of your secret fantasies, to have Alex laying down practically underneath you with half-lid, bedroom eyes darkening his gace, his sore stump awaiting for your care now resting atop your right thigh when you sat closer on your knees. It all made a shock of arousal heat up your sex leaving a faint stain in you panties, good thing you were wearing black shorts.

Alex gasped when he felt your hands spreading the cold medicine across his rash, carefully massaging the sore spots mindful of how overly sensitive it felt for him, his hands fisted the blanket on his sides while he tried to hold back short pained groans by chewing on his inner cheek and picking on the dead skin of his lower lip confirming this fact. So you decided to keep his mind off the sensitivity.

"Why cookie?" You asked casually, hands never relenting on your soft ministrations.

"W-well..." It took him a moment to even his breathing, but eventually, he gave in in your plan to occupy his mind. Besides, he wasn't planning on getting a boner right in front of you when your hands were right on his upper thigh, sensually dragging your lubricated digits up and down across his aching severed leg. Alex sucked in a breath and sighed "You are soft n' sweet, very tiny too. I remember the first time I saw you, how you welcomed me with a cheeky grin and a wave... You didn't even know me, I was a foreigner from a totally different unit and you treated me like-" A friend? It somehow felt unsubstantial. "Like family?" That's more like it.

You giggled a bit at the memory, your cheeks heating up at how awestruck you were (and still are) at the sight of Alex's beauty and charisma. You also remember feeling very awkward. Not because of anything Alex did or say but because it weirdly felt like you were constantly competing with Farah over his attention. It sounds childish and for a long time you thought you were just making things up, until you noticed that any interaction you had with Alex always cut short when she was around, Farah was quick to intervene dragging him away from any conversation you were having with the pretense that you two were working and had no time for chitchatting even if the conversation was work-related. Hadir confirmed he also suspected you two were competing for Alex but never did a thing entertained by the drama between you and his sister. You also remember talking to Farah briefly about this, she was nonchalant about the matter but did hint she was close to him so it's only normal he'd interact with her more than he ever did with you. That conversation still stung.

The memory irked something ugly within you, your feather light touches massaged all across his thigh a little faster, unconsciously trying to get this over with. Alex was quick to pick on your turbulent mind, his big hands cupped yours on his upper thigh halting your soft but rushed ministrations. You lift your chin and face him, he's sitting up this time, his brows pinching in worry.

"Did I say something wrong?" He softly asks "Are you okay?" Alex is always so caring around you. A gentleman by nature.

You sniffed with a forced half smile cupping the back of his hands. Your eyes shot down at his stump again, it was hard to maintain eye contact when he was only a few inches away from your face, his breath mixing with yours. Alex nudged your side with his right knee gently urging you to speak.

"You- you are right. You are like family to me." You said weakly, smile wavering. Feeling put on the spot, you lift his hands and kissed his knuckles softly. Not only to comfort him but yourself. Touching Alex in any way always proved effective at lowering your racing heart but it increased his (though, you were unaware).

The blonde purred at the gesture, a warmth like no other he has ever felt overwhelmed Alex "By family you mean..." He begun under his breath, his head lowered to nudge his forehead against yours fighting his bouncing leg, a nervous tick, as he tried to bury his nerves in the comfort of your touch. "...A brother or..." God he was so bad at this. Hell, he didn't plan for his first confession to go like this at all, but he couldn't help himself getting carried away by the moment.

His intentions were clear, your eyes snapped back to his abruptly moving away from his touch. You inhale, hating the awkwardness that has buried it's ugly claws on your chest making it painful to suppress your feelings. And then reality hit you. What Alex just said, the almost nonexistent space between you, the clear feelings you both shared for one another, the arousal. You could almost picture what Farah's reaction would be. And although you were never THAT close to her, you knew her and Alex had a very special bond you did not want to break.

"But..." You lips gave out the words you were thinking, as you were too afraid of what this could bring in the future, what it would change in your friendship with Alex and his with Farah. "Farah..."

At the mention of the other woman Alex's lashes fluttered in surprise but the shock melted into a worried expression. Alex wasn't oblivious of Farah's affections, and although he tried to let her down gently during the long time he has known her, he couldn't fully expect her to catch the double meaning of every discreet rejection he has given her, nor could he expect anyone (including you) to not notice her favoritism over the American soldier and misinterpret their friendship. Oh, his poor cookie.

The way his hand cups your cheek, how his thumb slides down vertically from the tip of your nose to your bottom lip playing with it's soft texture makes you shiver entering a trance that could only be broken the same way the sleeping beauty awoke from her curse. "You really think I'd sit here drooling n' blushing like a virgin boy just by feeling your hands on me if I felt something for Farah?" Alex doesn't say it condescendingly nor teasingly. His voice came out even, stern, pointing out the obvious in a way that made your worries quiet down a bit. You hum, eyes lost on the blue sea of his irises that blinked lazily at you.

"You're my lucky charm, (Y/n)." Alex confesssed taking notice of your entranced state as it filled him with enough courage to pour his heart out. He then makes a little, almost unperceptive nod in emphasis. "Every day we leave on duty I try my hardest to keep you at eyesight. Not just because I worry for your safety, but because there's no one in the world who'd I ever trust my life with but you. I love our cause, I love our teammates and I love Farah, but I don't love 'em the same way I love you, lil' cookie." You exhaled soundly like he just robbed your breath and he cracked a chuckle at such adorable reaction.

"Y'sure know how to make a girl blush..." You paused chewing on your lower lip before you fully let go of the shame and hesitation. "I love you too, Alex... More than you know."

"Oh I know." He chuckled.

You nodded rising your brows as if to say "oh, he knows." And he nodded in return but with more enthusiasm.

"I knew you couldn't resist me~" the blonde teased running a hand through the side of his hair putting a goofy seductive face, it made you roll you eyes dramatically but then he surprised you with a deep and very sincere "I love you."

Before you could react Alex's hands went to your back tugging you closer by the rim of your shirt. You crawled on top of him where he pulled you down to lay your whole weight on his torso, strong tattooed arms wrapped around you and once you had settled comfortably over him his hands slid under your shirt to massage your back, a little payment for you worries and care. "I'll say it as many times as y'need." He hummed in your ear burring his nose in your hair. At this, you shivered with a shy smile arching you back enjoying his touch. Just like a cat, he giggled at the thought.

"Careful, Keller. You might tempt me to ask for more..." Is that your idea of a threat? You couldn't be more cute.

"You threatening me with a good time, sugar?" Alex whispered back, face seeking yours.

"We really should be sleepin'... " You sighed with an apologetic smile. Your lips were millimeters from one another, nose and brows pressed. "Unless..."

His lips spread into a big smile. He was enchanted by your charms. His arms wrapped around you firmly, hugging you so close you'd suffocate. "Mm... Nah, you're right. 'Sides. I've already planned our first kiss. And it will NOT be on my stinky tent, at three in the mornin' with my mangled leg in display."

You buried your head under his chin, his stubble scratching your nose bridge and forehead. "I'd kiss you anywhere, 'lex..." You whispered softly. Your eyes closed, the exhaustion, Alex's deodorant and his warmth were slowly clouding your conscience succumbing to sleep. He kissed your hand.

"Nighty night, (Y/n)." Alex whispered turning off the lamp and closing his eyes.

______

As promised, your first kiss did not happen on his tent. But not too far.

You woke up when you felt his stubble gracing your cheek and soft lips planting mulple gentle kisses along your face, everywhere but on the mouth. When you opened your eyes you were met by his half-lid blue eyes staring at you foldly.

"G'morning, lovie." He hummed and you lazily smiled back "y' talk in your sleep you know?"

You laughed a bit rubbing your eyes. "Hmm... Did I say something interesting?"

Alex smirked "hmmmmmm gibberish!" He was totally lying but you'll give him that. You already felt a little shy being cocooned like this with him.

"I wanna show you something. But first you gotta get up... And um... Could you help me with my leg, love?" He requested, as if you were one to deny him anything.

You two left the tent and instantly were met my the morning sky. The sun was rising behind the dunes painting the sand in a soft pink color. You were no stranger to the beauty of Urzikstan, but witnessing the sunrise with Alex after you two had confessed, made it feel like this was the very first time.

A gentle breath swayed your hair and you jumped a bit when you felt his hand push some strands behind your ear. You turned to the side a bit facing him and Alex gave you this little smirk accompanied by a lovestruck stare that told you all you needed to know.

You took a step closer and he did the same, leaning down a bit to meet your height before you cupped his jaw and gently planted your lips against his.

"This is... So fucking cool..." You huffed with a smile.

"It is, isn't it? The sun is the first witness of our union." Alex said teasingly circling your waist.

"My, you woke up feeling poetic."

"You love it, don't deny it."

"I love you."

You only hope Farah will let go of the stupid rivalry you both had when she sees you and Alex being more cuddly than usual.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Hi! I'm glad your request are open again! I'm living for your work!

Can you do an enemies to lovers , where they can't be left alone without fighting, but uthred teamed them up to do scouting or something so they are forced to be together, and then they have some hate sex after arguing xD and he gets really cocky after

Full creative control I'll love it no matter what

Thank you ❤️❤️

Note: ahhh thank you so much for your kind words!! I enjoyed writing this one! hope you will enjoy reading it :)

Warnings: smut 18+! some insults, some dominance, a lot of bickering.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: see request!

Word count: 4,4k

Masterlist

'I want you to shut up too, so shut up, Sihtric!'

****************

'Can you stop that?'

'I'm not even doing anything.'

'I can hear you!' you snarled.

'Oh, am I not allowed to breathe anymore?' Sihtric snapped.

'Preferably not, no. But if you really have to, then do it quietly!'

'Of course, I am sorry, princess,' Sihtric mocked, 'my earnest apologies, my lady, if my presence is too loud for your liking because I have to fill my lungs with air.'

'Will you shut up? You're going to scare off the animals, and then we'll have no food tonight.'

'The only thing that will scare the animals off is the sight of you,' he huffed.

You glared at him, eyes full with rage and he returned the same look.

'Another word and I will throw you in the fire tonight!'

'Gladly! Then I will be released from you!' Sihtric spat and got up.

'Where are you going? We haven't caught anything yet!'

'I'd rather starve than spend another moment with you!'

'Yeah, well, me too!'

You and Sihtric never got along. It had been months and it only seemed to get worse. Everyone was sick and tired of it. And because of that, Uhtred was to send you and Sihtric away to scout the Northern border for any activity.

'What? Why?' Sihtric frowned.

'Absolutely not,' you said curtly, 'I will not spend another second by his side.'

'You will do as I say!' Uhtred snarled, 'you will leave at first light tomorrow.'

'Yes, lord.' Sihtric muttered.

'Yes, lord,' you mocked Sihtric, who gave you a threatening look.

***************

You watched the pain the arse, who others knew as Sihtric, saddling up his horse as you already sat mounted upon your own, ready to leave. It was an early morning in the middle of summer. Tiny droplets of sweat already trickled down your back in the morning sun as you studied the man who made your blood boil. His dark hair was braided on top as well as on the sides and, in the back, he had a nice collection of curls that anyone would be jealous of. Sihtric had bathed in the river shortly before he found you, but his impressive biceps were already glistening with sweat in the early rays of light. If you didn't hate him so much, you would think he was attractive.

'If you take much longer we will have to fetch new horses.'

'Why?' Sihtric reluctantly took the bait.

'Because these horses will have died of old age!'

'Can't you just die of old age?' he snapped.

'Oh, I'd rather be doing that right now, believe me.'

Sihtric finally climbed up on his horse and immediately stormed off in a gallop, leaving you behind. You rolled your eyes and followed, at your own pace.

************

'Was that really necessary?' you huffed, dismounting your horse after trying to catch up for hours.

Sihtric simply raised an eyebrow, looking back at you over his shoulder. He had stopped at a river to rest and was crouched down next to the flowing water. The horses needed a break and so did the two of you. It was noon and the sun was way too hot to continue the journey for now.

'We should stay here a little while,' Sihtric said after splashing the cool water in his face.

'We should.'

Sihtric frowned at you. 'Did the princess just agree with me?'

You replied by flaring your nostrils and clenched your jaw, to which Sihtric smirked. It rarely happened that you had no snappy remark to return to him.

Sihtric moved to sit under a tree, in the shade. To kill some time, he took out his knife and sharpened the blade with a whetstone, knowing the sound would eventually agitate you, because he knows you hate it when he sharpens a blade slowly, instead of fast, like you do. He kept an eye on you as you laid on your back in the same shade, a few paces away from him, with your eyes closed. After a short moment of dragging the stone slowly over the blade, he saw your left eye twitch slightly with each following stroke he made. And this amused him. With a proud smirk he continued, watching the anger build up in you slowly, but noticeable enough. Until you suddenly groaned and sat up.

'Can you stop that?'

'No.'

You tried to not explode and took a few deep breaths.

'Then do my blade as well, if you wish to be annoying!' you unsheathed your own dagger and threw it in front of his feet.

'Of course, princess. I am your loyal servant, I will do as you ask,' he said insincerely and watched you, still amused. You huffed and closed your eyes again to lay back down.

'Why do you always call me princess?' you asked after a while.

Sihtric looked up from his knife and scoffed at you. 

'Because you think you're better than everyone else.'

'I do not!'

'If you say so, princess,' Sihtric mumbled. 

He smirked when he saw he had angered you once again. If you weren't such a loudmouth, Sihtric would have been smitten by you. But he simply couldn't stand your attitude. Yet, he couldn't keep his eyes off you when he started to sharpen your dagger.

'Why are you always getting on my nerves?' you hissed. You could just not let things go and you knew Sihtric was deliberately dragging the whetstone at a slow pace.

'Why are you always rude to me?' Sihtric asked in return, his voice calm.

'Because you annoy me,' you tried to be calm too.

'And you annoy me.'

'Good!

'Great!' Sihtric snarled, 'here, sharpen your own blade!'

He got up, threw your dagger in front of your own feet and walked past you, to his horse. He decided it was time to continue the journey.

'I will sharpen it myself, because with your pace it will be done when I have already died of old age, along with the horses!' you spat as you grabbed your knife.

***************

'Witch,' Sihtric mumbled as he rode his horse next to you.

'Rat,' you muttered.

'Saxon.'

'Dane.'

'Turd.'

'Pagan!'

Sihtric looked you up and down, his eyebrow raised as he sniffed, 'you're also a pagan.'

'Yes,' you ignored his hard stare at you, 'but you are a filthy pagan.'

'And you are a clean pagan?' he frowned, a small smile curled on his lips.

'Princess pagan,' you said cockily, and you also couldn't hide the faintest hint of a smile when you looked at him. 

The rest of the journey continued in silence, until night fell.

************

You had found an abandoned church near the, quiet, border and without saying a word you both figured it was a good place to camp. The church was half burned down, with no roof, and used to be part of a small village, which had entirely burned down several summers ago.

You went to hunt for food while Sihtric made a fire. You quickly came back with two hares and Sihtric was surprised by how fast you had managed to catch those, and you told him it was because he wasn't there to scare the animals off with his insanely loud breathing.

'I assume they never saw your face,' Sihtric said, referring to his insult about the sight of you yesterday. You rolled your eyes. 

You prepared the meat and cooked it above the fire. A few hours later you were both well fed and started to set up your small camp to sleep. Sihtric was setting up his tent while he kept hearing you curse and sigh behind him. He watched as you looked through everything you had taken. You had walked back and forth to your horse several times before he finally asked what your problem was.

'I…it seems I forgot my tent.'

Sihtric frowned. His expression quickly made place for a chuckle, which grew into a wide grin, and soon he was shamelessly laughing at you.

'It's not funny!' you hissed, 'the mosquitoes will eat me alive!'

'That solves my problem,' Sihtric shrugged.

You huffed and sat down near the fire, arms crossed, while Sihtric got inside his tent and took off his armour and tunic, sleeping in only his breeches, warm and snug under his furs. A few hours passed and you started to shiver. Summer nights were always chilly up North, and you cursed yourself for forgetting to pack your tent. Sihtric already had a few hours of sleep until he was woken up by the sound of your violent sneeze, which he deemed ridiculously loud. He put his tunic back on and stepped out of his tent, walking past you, out into the darkness.

'Where are you going?'

'Piss,' he sniffed, annoyed he was awake again and that you were still there.

A short moment later he came back and noticed you were trembling. He couldn't stand you near him, but he also couldn't stand the sound of your chattering teeth. Sihtric exhaled loudly, making his annoyance clear to you before he spoke.

'We can share my tent, princess.'

'No.'

'Fine by me.'

'Good!' you said, too proud to share a tent with that bastard son. 

But soon you felt a raindrop. Which quickly turned into more raindrops. And before you knew it, it was pouring down from the sky. Sihtric had listened to the rain with a sly smile, knowing you'd come begging soon.

Drenched by rain, and with embarrassment, you stepped inside Sihtric's tent. He looked up at you with his sly smile, hands behind his head, his muscular torso exposed while a fur covered everything below his waist. For a moment you wondered if he was fully naked and you grimaced, wanting to turn around and step outside again, but then you remembered you'd be sick as a dog by morning if you would sleep in the rain.

'Can I help you, princess?' Sihtric said cheekily, his head tilted slightly to the side.

'Can I sleep here?' you mumbled.

'What's that, princess?' Sihtric had heard you loud and clear.

You clenched your jaw and fought an insult.

'Can I sleep here?' you tried to ask as nicely as you could, 'please?'

'I didn't quite catch that last word, my lady.'

You wanted to refuse his earlier offer again. You wanted to poke his mismatched eyes out of his skull and you wanted to cut out his tongue. But you also wanted to be warm.

'Please,' you feigned a smile. Sihtric smiled satisfied and moved slightly to the left, making space for you on his right.

'Thank you,' you murmured as you wanted to grab a fur.

'Surely you are not thinking of soaking my furs with your wet clothes,' he said sternly.

'I will not sleep naked.'

'You will not sleep in wet clothes. You will make us both sick!'

You knew he was right, and your clothes had to dry as well. You had no other choice than to take everything off and you quickly covered yourself with one of his warm furs.

'Don't even think about looking at me,' you hissed when you saw how Sihtric was watching you with dark eyes.

'I don't even want to look at you,' he lied.

'I don't want to look at you either,' you also lied.

'I want you to shut up and go to sleep.'

'I want you to shut up too, so shut up, Sihtric!' you said, heated, as you laid down next to him and pulled another fur over your bare body.

'And I want you to stop pulling furs away from me!' Sihtric snarled as he harshly pulled back the fur you had just pulled off him, which you quickly grabbed onto, staring into his eyes. You were both filled with rage.

'I want you to stop talking to me.'

'Will that be all, princess?' Sihtric taunted as you both refused to let go of that one fur. There were more than enough furs, but you both would simply not give up this one. May the gods know why.

'Any more demands or wishes, princess?' Sihtric continued to rile you up.

'Yes,' you nearly growled, 'if you could just fuck me now we can get it over with!'

'Yeah?' Sihtric smiled, furiously.

'Yeah!' 

'I will ravage you,' he said in a low voice.

'You couldn't possibly ravage me,' you dared him.

'I will fuck you till you cry.'

'Cry? Of what? Happiness when you're finally done?' you feigned a yawn.

'You will cry because you will beg me for mercy,' Sihtric said as he stared intensely into your eyes.

'I do not beg.'

'You will beg for me.'

'I. Do. Not. Beg.' you said again, but slower.

'You will get on your knees for me,' Sihtric said, his voice low and soft as he brought his face closer to yours while you both still held onto the same fur, neither refusing to let go. 

'Fine,' you snarled, 'if that will make you shut up!' 

You got up on your knees for him, and Sihtric quickly jerked all furs off you, licking his lips as his eyes had access to your entire naked body. You huffed at him and tugged the fur off him that had kept him covered, finding out that he was, indeed, fully naked. And your eyes darkened when you saw the size of his already hard cock.

'Turn around for me,' Sihtric breathed heavily, and you did as you were told.

'Hm,' he hummed with a smile as he watched you. 

You moaned softly at the touch of his warm, rough hands, massaging your cold, wet and naked ass. Sihtric explored you slowly with his touch. Until he suddenly spanked you, hard.

'Gods!' you screamed out and gasped.

'That is for your attitude,' Sihtric snapped, and then he smacked your ass again with his flat hand, making you cry out all the same.

'That is for the way you speak to me!'

And once more, Sihtric spanked you hard, making your skin burn up. 

'And that is for all the times you got on my nerves!' 

Before you could make a cheeky remark, or throw an insult, Sihtric shoved you down onto his warm furs. He moved his naked body on top of yours while you faced the floor.

'I want to cut out your tongue for talking so much,' you said with ragged breath.

'You don't like it when I talk, princess?' Sihtric asked, teasing your wet entrance with the tip of his hard cock.

'Hm,' you hummed and closed your eyes at the feeling, pushing your hips up against him, grinding your drenched slit over the length of his long cock.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed too now, with a satisfied smile as he watched you. You were in desperate need of his cock, and he knew it.

'You like that, princess?' he asked darkly.

'Yes,' you sighed, rocking your hips against his.

'I should stuff your mouth with my cock,' Sihtric chuckled, 'that will teach you how to behave.'

'I will never behave for you!' you spat.

Sihtric grabbed your hips firmly, instantly bruising you with his strength. And after he teased you a little more, he pushed deep inside you with a low, soft moan.

'Nice and tight, princess,' Sihtric exhaled sharply through his teeth as he watched his length slide all the way inside you.

'Did you just compliment me?' you grinned, loving the way he was stretching you up right now. Sihtric answered you with another hard slap on your ass cheek.

You bit down on your fist and grabbed into the furs beneath you as he fucked you hard, deep, and fast. Tears rolled down your flustered, smiling cheeks before you knew it, enjoying the way he completely ravaged you right now, like no man had ever done before.

You moaned, hard and loud. And each thrust was heard by the sound of his skin snapping against yours. And he went on for a long while, enjoying the way he had finally made you shut up. But as you seemed to take him perfectly fine, he needed to find a way to get on your nerves again.

'Enjoying me, princess?' his breath was hard and heavy.

'Y-yeah,' you said, tired and nearly numb by now.

'Good,' Sihtric sighed, and he pulled out with a warning, causing you to moan at the loss.

'No, Sihtric! Please!' you nearly screamed, 'don't stop!'

'Are you begging?'

'Please, please,' you cried, 'don't stop.'

'More,' Sitric said sternly, 'beg for me, more.' And he again slapped your ass hard.

'I need to feel you inside me. Please,' you begged and got up on your knees, facing him, 'I need… I need to ride you. I want you ride you like a fucking animal,' you growled.

'Yeah?' Sihtric provoked as he went to lay down on his back, 'you think you can tame me, princess?'

'I will make you mine,' you hissed as you climbed on top of him, 'I will make you my pet.'

Sihtric's eyes darkened even more as he watched you sink down on his cock.

'Go ahead and try, princess,' he smirked. But Sihtric couldn't deny his half open eyes were caused by how good you felt, and how beautiful he thought you were, and how hard it made him that you wanted to take control.

You began to bounce up and down his cock, and you moaned as you threw your head back, and then you laughed.

'I fucking hate you,' you smiled before you locked eyes with him again.

'The feeling is mutual,' Sihtric grinned as he placed his hands on your hips again.

You both moaned in pleasure as you continued the heated intercourse inside his tent, while the rain outside struck down over the lands. Sihtric had a firm grip on your hips and, as he was stronger than you, brought you to a halt, and he was fast to buck his hips up into you while he pulled you down on him. You let out a scream when you felt him thrust hard, all the way inside you, and your eyes teared up again at the intense feeling. You moved your hands up in his hair and pulled hard, making him snap his hips against yours again with a violent force, causing tears of pleasure to roll down your face as your body trembled.

'What?' Sihtric chuckled mischievously, 'you can't tame me, princess?'

'Fuck you,' you murmured.

Sihtric flipped you on your back, threw your legs over his shoulder and fucked you with an insanely rough pace. All his hatred for you, he used it to make you his, as hard as he could right now.

'I hate you,' he hissed, furiously slamming into you as he held your hips in place.

'I hate you more,' you moaned, 'you Dane scum.'

'Saxon bitch,' he snarled, baring his teeth and sticking his tongue out slightly as he watched you squirm underneath him.

'Do you ever shut up?' you growled and pulled his hair hard again, making Sihtric moan and become even more relentless. You both quickly became a moaning, grunting, growling and screaming mess as you fucked each other like it would finally rid you of each other forever.

'Gods, I hate you,' Sihtric moaned. 

And he couldn't remember why or when it happened, but he found himself leaning into you, and he brought one hand up to your face, grabbing your chin firmly, forcing you to look at him.

'I hate you so much,' you moaned, looking into his half open eyes with your own heavy-lidded eyes. 

'Tell me how much you hate me, princess,' Sihtric's tone became less furious and his pace less violent.

'I hate you,' you moaned again. Your hands moved up into his hair again and you couldn't stop yourself from pulling his face closer, 'I fucking hate you… I hate you…' you almost cried out, 'I hate how you arouse me.'

'I hate how you make me so hard all the time,' Sihtric confessed, his parted lips brushing against yours with each thrust.

'I hate how… how good you feel,' you smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying all of him inside you, 'I hate how I…how I,-' your breath hitched when Sihtric leaned his forehead against yours and lowered his body further down onto you, slamming into you with an awfully pleasant, pace. 

'I…' you sighed, barely able to speak when your walls clenched his cock, and you felt his pace becoming sloppy.

'Say it! Spill it, princess,' Sihtric groaned in your ear as he came, 'spill it the way I spill myself inside you right now.'

'I … hate how I- I fuck,' you cried out and wrapped your arms around his neck, 'I hate that I fucking love how you feel, Sihtric!' you screamed as you came.

'Yes!' Sihtric growled and you heard him chuckle in your ear, 'I knew it,' he brought his face up to you as he laughed. He looked into your eyes and bit down on his lip, dragging his length out of you, so slowly, it was simply torture. 

'I knew you loved something about me,' he chuckled softly and slammed back into you, one last time, riding out his own high along with yours, which earned him one last moan and another tug at his hair, which made him hiss as he still smiled at you.

'I still hate you,' you said out of breath, cupping his cheeks for some reason you couldn't explain.

'Hm,' Sihtric smiled cheekily, not knowing why he nuzzled your nose, 'you do?'

'Yeah.' You chuckled and hated how you suddenly felt shy.

'Would you hate it if I kissed you?'

'More than anything.'

'Good,' Sihtric smirked, and captured you in a gentle, sweet and loving kiss; the complete opposite of the intense hatred you had taken out on each other just yet.

'I hate you because I love you,' you confessed after he pulled away.

'And I love you because you hate me,' Sihtric admitted, stealing your heart along with another kiss.

****************

You woke up in his tent the next morning, alone and sore, which you wouldn't tell him. You got dressed in your still damp clothes which, lucky for you, dried quickly once you were out in the sun. You found Sihtric outside, eating breakfast he had made and you didn't know how to compose yourself after last night. You sat down next to him without saying a word. Sihtric immediately put his empty bowl down, got up and walked to his tent, taking it down and pack everything after. Getting ready to travel back soon with the news that, well, there was no news, because you didn't see anyone during your journey who wasn't supposed to be near the border.

'Uhm,' you looked at his empty bowl, 'where is my breakfast?'

Sihtric frowned as he looked back at you.

'Did the princess expect me to bring a golden bowl for her?' he taunted, 'Do you expect me to feed you as well, my lady?'

'Shut up,' you huffed. You took whatever leftovers you found in the small pan above the smouldering fire, which was clearly not enough, but you'd steal a few apples somewhere later. You sat back in the shade, watching how Sihtric was packing everything up. It was early and once again incredibly warm due to summer heat. You quickly ate and packed up whatever was still laying around, and after that you found shelter in the shade again.

'Gods, you really have the worst pace with everything, don't you?' you mocked as Sihtric readied his horse slowly again, which you knew was because of the heat.

'You didn't complain about my pace last night!' Sihtric snarled as he saw you enjoying the shade, while droplets of sweat ran down his face.

'Oh, please,' you rolled your eyes.

'Yeah, that's what you said last night too.'

You decided to ignore him and mounted your horse, kicking your heels and wandering off, leaving Sihtric behind.

Soon enough he caught up with you and without another word you decided to rest at the same spot as yesterday, near the river, before continuing back home.

You sat under the same tree as the day before when Sihtric started taking off his clothes, right in front of you.

'What are you doing?!'

'I wish to bathe,' he scoffed and threw his tunic at you with a grin.

'Surely you can undress somewhere else,' you snapped as you flung the fabric back to him.

'You could also direct your eyes somewhere else if I arouse you too much.'

'Gods, I hate you!' you shouted as you jumped up and stormed past him.

'You do,' Sihtric took your hand in passing and pulled you towards him, 'but you also love me.'

'Last night was just a one time thing, Sihtric!' you said while your hands moved up his bare, toned chest.

'Was it?' he clicked his tongue, cupping your cheek.

'Yes!' you hissed as you looked up at him.

'Good!

'Fine!'

You snarled at each other before you both desperately crashed your lips together for a heated kiss. Later you would blame each other for ending up on the grass, and neither would take the blame, but regardless, it happened.

'I hate you,' Sihtric hummed in between kisses as you laid on top of him, his arms wrapped around you.

'I hate you more,' you murmured, kissing his neck.

'How much more?'

'Not enough,' you whispered as he took your face in his hands, 'because I hate the idea of not having you by my side. And you make me sick,' you chuckled lightly, pecking his lips as he looked up in your eyes.

'How sick?' Sihtric smiled softly.

'Not enough,' you repeat yourself, 'because I feel even sicker when I'm not with you.'

'I know,' Sihtric said cockily as he caressed your cheeks with his rough thumbs.

'Oh, please,' you sighed and got off him.

'Will you finally admit you want to be with me or are you going to continue to run away from me?'

'I will run!' you snarled and walked away from him.

'Sure, but don't come running to me again tonight!'

'I won't!' you lied.

'You will,' Sihtric mumbled with a smirk, watching you run away from your feelings once again. 

Sihtric had time, he would wait. He knew it wouldn't take long anymore before you finally stopped lying to yourself, and to him. But he also didn't know it would already happen later that night, back in Coccham, when you had knocked his door and said you came by just to rant about how you hated him. To which he had listened with a smile before he pulled you inside, where he made sweet love to you on his floor, and after that you just couldn't lie anymore.

****************

taglist: @clairacassidy  @finanmoghra  @uunotheangel  @hb8301  @bathedinheat  @neonhairspray  @anaeve  @bubblyabs  @travelingmypassion  @sylas-the-grim  @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us  @andakth @chompchompluke  @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world

[DM to be added to/removed from taglist! & don't be shy to like, reblog & comment!🖤]

[erithel]

Piggybacking off of your response to the previous ask, man can I just say what an utter clusterfuck the whole "gone" situation was follower-wise... i'm gonna make this about me so sorry about that, however i'm the kind of person that can't really articulate their thoughts, can't see through the layers as clearly as others and when people post a thoughtful analysis that reflects my feelings about the fic while the best thing I can come up with is something like "wow, fic good❤️" (which yeah I know is still fine but anyway) it makes me feel so much better because what is trapped in my head is articulated as I wanted to express it... that being said, seeing you explore ptsd and lance's grief like this stirred smth in me, I cried at times, so I was very excited to see people in your asks sharing their thoughts and all... And then they didn't seem to care so much about it (not all of them obvs) and at first it was like "hahah yeah.. we all want them to kiss xd lol" but then seeing you post about how people would essentially flood your asks for klance to KISS ALREADY™ plus with other general stuff... Idk if it was frustrating for me I can't even begin to imagine how it was for you, because this is like.. still a story, just in comic form, so yes it has an arc it need to complete. We could see the episode count from the beginning too if I remember correctly, so being so insistent about it was weird? Either way, it was a story and it was getting somewhere and spamming about when your ship will be canon is kind of annoying. So sorry this happened to you and so happy you pushed through! I binge it on the regular!

I feel like I could do a Ted Talk on the etiquette of commenting at this point, through my own experience, and also reading comments my friends have received on their work.

But essentially what it boils down to is two things:

Creators put a lot of work into their stories, and

They choose to write stories their way

The way that I write fan content (both fics and comics) is because these stories and these subjects are important to me. Some of them are very personal, too. And I know I am not the only creator who chooses to write this way.

Obviously the way I reacted to the "just kiss already" comments may have seemed like an overreaction from the outside (I thank you for being understanding in your ask btw).

But the message those constant comments were sending was a very clear one of:

All the thought/time/work you put into this story does not matter

Everyone who ever told you to "just get over it" was right

Grief can be a very physical and powerful thing.

Losing someone you love leaves you with this excess of love and affection that now has no where to go. You used to have a place to direct it, and when that place is suddenly gone, it takes a while to learn how to function again; to redistribute that love.

It's something that never goes away, it just gets manageable. And it's definitely not something you can "just get over."

I'm not saying I'm the greatest storyteller of all time, but I was tired of reading books and watching movies and shows where the characters never felt the aftermath of a loss. They all just moved onto the next episode or the next chapter like nothing ever happened.

And I do think it's important to tell stories like this in fanfiction. Because many readers are younger. Many readers rely on reading fanfiction because it's free. Many readers need hope and catharsis. And getting to read about their favorite characters go through terrible things but realistically come out on the other side is, to me, very important. Because the stories we read - no matter if they are free or published works - can stick with us for the rest of our lives.

This is why it was such a big deal for me. Because I was trying to tell a story that said "Please take your time to get over things. Please know that it's okay if you don't immediately snap back to the way things were. Please know that it's okay to feel whatever it is you are feeling." And getting comment after comment that said the exact opposite was honestly just crushing.

I would take a "wow, fic good" comment any day. Because it acknowledges what has been done, instead of demands things to speed up to suit someone else's needs.

And, on a slightly more petty note... it was a klance fan comic. It's not like they weren't going to kiss. They just weren't going to do it in the middle of an argument where it wouldn't have stuck!

(I do also think it's funny that there's a perfect comic example of a kiss happening too early, before communication which happened right around the same time as Gone. And for the record, she's gotten way more and way worse comments than I did, so that's something worth mentioning, too.)

The point is that some stories are very personal to the author and very important to certain members of the audience. Of course no single story will be for everyone, but just because it is not going a certain way does not mean it's okay to demand it be changed.

[factual-fantasy]

26 askss!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@milk-powrit

XD actually, Bibi never minded being the shortest. Because Jangles and I never made fun of him for it. But he's probably happy that there's now 2 people short enough to give him proper hugs 🥺

And to be honest, I haven't thought too much out about character facts :0 other than Cici is a smarty pants and can be a lil sassy at times XD But in a harmless/charming way.

Also oh yeah, Gerald loves puns. XDD Although he hasn't had any cake before.. so idk what his favorite could be. What ever is the funniest flavor I suppose XDD

@luckyglasses

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Happy holidays!! :}}

@deadly-skeleton123

Oh you're new to Tumblr? Ahhh word of advice then- If I may? It might be a good idea to change your profile picture. Tumblr has a big bot problem. And a lot of the bots have default profile pictures just like yours. A lot of people might see your account in their feed and just block/report on sight. Not fun.. also I suggest you do the same though, if someone with default profile picture, banner, no bio, no posts follows you... that's probaaaaably a bot and should be blocked--

ANYWAYS! So for the Captain Barnacles/Crab comic. I don't plan on finishing it. And the reason why I abandoned it was because the way I had written the comic had everyone acting out of character. The blood was over the top, it was too dramatic,, ugh.. I got tired of my own comic half way through making it. <XD

The comic was gonna end with the rest of the crew showing up, they take the Captain to the octopod, and Peso cries because "I was too scared to help the Captain.." Which is just stupid <XD

Peso would not cower in fear in this situation. Even if Captain Barnacles turned like that and became very scary. Peso has had an extended history of getting it together and braving through anything to help creatures in need. And if his own Captain/friend was hurt? Nothing would stop him. Nothing could scare him away.

In the perfect re-write, Peso would ace this situation. He would approach Barnacles perfectly and calm him down. He would patch the wound, guide him to the gups. Guide him into the octopod and into the med-bay. Expertly deal with the wound and clean up all the blood.

Sure maybe after everything was done he would cry a bit out of the stress of it all. But originally everyone else did everything for Peso because he was too scared to help the scARy CapTAIN OOOO!!

Nah, that dumb. Peso is way stronger than that. #justiceforpeso

I made one yeeeaaarrs ago when I was into Sonic. But it centered around a Sonic OC of mine. <XD I don't tend to do much insert OC stuff anymore..

I imagine Bonnie would just sigh and try to get through it on his own. And not go to Foxy for help.. Worse case scenario he gets overwhelmed and shuts down on stage and ruins the show. Which is fine by him. He'd think, "Serves them right for puttin me on that stage. Faz-bear entertainment deserves to have their show flop for how they've treated me.. for how they've treated us."

XDD Hey! That's Veggietales isn't it?

@elegysonnet

XD That's what I was thinkin! That, and they were basically fully fleshed out characters but their bodies just didn't exist yet. Since their future existence was so set in stone Jangles was able to connect to their minds..?? XD I guess??

Thank you so much!! :DD Also CAPTAIN BARNACALES FTWWW!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@taizarack

XD New friend indeed! Cici is technically an old friend, she's existed longer than Jangles and Gerald! XD

@manybrokenquills

JOKES ON YOU I'M ALL OF THOSE THINGS XDD

Also thank you! I'm glad you've stuck around and like what you see! :DDD

@wildwitchofthewest

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDDD

@smallangryartist

1: AAAA I'm glad it fooled you! When I drew it in I knew that anyone with a different Tumblr theme wouldn't be fooled.. but I'm glad I got at least 2 people! XDD

2: Also aww.. even if they were happy tears, sorry for making you cry! <XD

ALSO WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Also also don't worry, I'm taking a nap and drinking water at the same time as we speak! XD

(Also also also that heart shattering might come sooner than you think..👀)

Nahh, my gnome is built different. All he needs to thrive is a steady supply of pepperoni pizza and a very large 3 inch deep puddle XD

@beryl-shade

Maybe! :0 At the very least I imagine they'd get along. My Seam is soft spoken, polite, mellow.. he's probably a nice person to share a cup of tea with! :}

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

@coolkoaladeer @thesweetishfish

@boringa55binch

Its hard to say, I didn't ever like.. try to replicate an art style and draw something unrelated. Like- if I was drawing in the gravity falls art style, I was drawing gravity falls stuff. I wouldn't draw in the gravity falls art style and draw random ocs and stuff. If that makes sense-

But maybe one style was easier to draw hands in than another. So I.. might have adopted some stuff..?? I guess??

I guess that would mean my art style developed off of the different franchises I made fanart from? If that's the case it was likely Gravity Falls, Sonic x, and Steven Universe..? Mostly?? XD Sorry this answer is all over the place-

Many actually! Its just unfortunate because all of them are giant comic ideas but I'm too wiped out from my 20k celebration to really draw any of themmmm... 😩sighhhh

@funtimespringscare101

XDDD I'm glad you like them! And I can imagine that they might be shy to hug new people- but Gerald probably wouldn't mind! XD

@ayoshivader

Since that statement I have re-written the timeline.. So who's to say any of that still stuck and what her motives were/are now..? 👀

<XD I've never played the paper mario games so that's why I've never drawn them.. it sounds really cute though! :D

Taking the quilt off does nothing, the quilt doesn't bring them to life either! Remember that Bibi could talk when he was a still picture and was brought to "life" without the use of a quilt or even any glowy effects. Also Jangles had a quilt as a drawing and was "brought to life" using a pen!

The point I'm getting at is, Pen? Quilt? It doesn't matter. None of these methods actually give the characters life. I do. All these fancy ways I seem to bring them to life are just for show <XD

@housome

XD The first thing that came to mind was Freddy telling Fredbear about Gregory.

Freddy: "I'm keeping a child hidden in the basement.."

Fredbear: "...you're keeping a CHILD in the BASEMENT??"

Freddy: "LISTEN ITS TO PROTECT HIM--"

Also thank you! :DD

Naahhh he'll be fine 😉

And yay! Cici and Gerald!!! XDD

To put it simply, fanart makes me feel bad. And Comments make me feel good. So I prefer comments to fanart. 👌

To complicate it a bit, when I post artwork I'm just sitting there all giddy waiting for the first "AKSJKASAU WAAAAA 😭😭😭" comment to pop up. When I get fanart I immediately get frustrated and uncomfortable. Fanart feels like stealing and usually invokes a negative reaction from me. So if people want to show their appreciation for my work, leaving comments is 100% more effective and preferred. 👍

Also thank you! :DD

@scp-16217

XD These are great match ups!

[pyro-madder]

Maria & Gehrman for the bingo! :D

(Also I just saw your banner it's so cool and fun XD! And I just saw the freaking timeline post ghjklm going insane it's so cool! I mean I have one too somewhere & I made silly family trees hcs but yours look so nice edited like this! and it really create something cohesive! very well done! 👏)

yeah Powerup who made the banner is insane like that :'} and THANK YOU that's two days on canva babyyyyy (what am i doing with my life)

if you're ok with it i'd love to see your own timeline/family trees though !! hand it over /no pressure 🫶

now for the trouble duo, oh boy

Mary

maria maria maria... mixed feelings. don't get me wrong - i have no criticism on her character, she and her role in the story are extremely interesting and nuanced, and of course she's cool and pretty, but i have this automatic turn-off with most characters who are widely popular like she is. and then i came in the fandom and saw the poor girl surrounded by discourse and it made me So Tired without even getting into it 😂 i can't fully check off "everyone else is wrong about them" because i have few thoughts of my own about her and mostly just stick with the homies' takes, i'm in no position to really judge others'

AND GUESS WHAT said homies' takes are making me want to try to get over that initial turn-off !! i'm still thinking about your post about her love for lumenflowers ! it's !! so !!! cute !!!! and it prompted me to see beyond her boss fight's ice-cool persona - it's only a glimpse of her !! there is more !!! so, it's hopefully underway.

Gehrmy

ALMOOOOST DFGHJKLM i've mentionned him becoming a comfort which i blame on my muses (hunter and laurence) ! so yeah, again, Thoughts are underway

... i don't need to expand much on the rest, i fear you know it better than i do 8''') i'd have liked him just fine as the amazing, tragic, not-quite-mentor final boss he is, but seeing all the vitriol automatically made me like him more, especially since a lot of it is of extremely poor faith X) let him rest...

[pianostarinwonderland]

Well that ending for Playful Land was something !

Seeing the differing reactions of the ending among fans has been pretty interesting for me. Some find it to be the perfect ending, others find it a cop-out and a disappointment.

Personally, Playful Land's ending is the most interesting ending I've seen in a Twst event. I've never experienced a lot of mixed feelings for an ending till now.

On one hand, based on the event tl summaries, it did feel like a cop out to me. Fellow did win against the boys. They were going to die. And it was all ended by a call from his boss. It felt anti-climatic the first time I heard about it. Heck, it reminded me of how I felt with Endless Halloween's ending with how it was all just a prank. Admittedly, a lot of these feelings is because we had one book dedicated to 9 people fighting underworld blot monsters and saving the world, and they came out victorious xD with how Twst boys always manage to win in dire situations, it feels so weird that they were losing here.

On the other hand, I'm not mad about it. In fact, I think the "cop out" works for a few reasons.

There was indeed build up to the call, with Fellow calling his clients and boss in Episode 3 of the event. We saw how shitty the relationship is, we already see that Fellow was only in it for the money. If you researched or watched Pinocchio for this event, you would know that Honest John himself wasn't comfortable with Pleasure Island. But he still took up the job simply because it promises money. And Fellow is the same—he took up the amusement park job because there was money promised. And with his employers and clients being rich people? All the more enticing, especially since he isn't from a privileged background. Fellow has to make ends meet one way or another.

The boys were in a losing situation. Our boys may have witnessed many terrifying things like Overblot and Tartarus and came out victorious, but they're not invincible. The park was funded by influential people who have the magic and resources to make it so nobody escapes no matter what they do. They were also taken down one by one, with the SSR trio being turned to puppets by Fellow ripping their ticket, which was out of their control. And I think it may be worth keeping in mind, they're not Azul, Idia, and Malleus. They don't have the powerful magic or the ingenuity that the Glomas trio hold. They have their own strengths that do make them worthy of being the SSRs of the event (Ace's wit, Ortho's robo abilities, Kalim's kindness). But they were at an inherent disadvantage. (And on that note, it suddenly makes sense as to why the event started with the basketball team losing to RSA's—to establish that NRC isn't as strong as people would think).

It makes the situation all the more horrifying in the way that it's real. Aside from Lilia, the boys are still young people who are susceptible to crimes like human trafficking. A lot of victims don't make it out alive. NRC boys were just fortunate that they were able to talk to Fellow and have that his boss had one hell of a temper. Imagine if that boss was more patient. Imagine if they weren't able to get on Fellow's good side. Hell, the ending was hauntingly vague about the rest of the park goers. What happened to them as they blew up the amusement park? And hell, it gives not only the boys but the audience so much room for thought on the what ifs. What if that call didn't come through in time?

On the topic of being real, I also like that they really highlight Fellow being so done with his boss. It reflects a very real scenario of being tired of a toxic workplace, and you know what, rooting for you, Fellow. Get out of there.

It's so interesting how this ending works. Maybe there could have been a better ending. But as it is, it does work.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@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

[dangerousdan-dan]

i know you didnt reblog that post but im curious, top 10 characters of all time!!

Hiiii!!! I'm always happy to rant about all the characters I keep in special jars xD

(The list isn't in any specific order because I honestly don't think I could choose just ONE favorite above the rest)

1. Daud from Dishonored: he's a total piece of shit, a pathetic magic man full of death and guilt and I love him, which means I want to stab him with a fork

2. Billie Lurk from Dishonored: she's also full of guilt (most of my faves are lol). Billie is so damn cool and she can have a little murder, as a treat. Her toxic father/daughter dynamic with Daud drives me insane (she also needs to stab him with a fork, tbh)

3. Hadrian Blackwater from the Riyria series: a gentle giant with an equally giant sword. A total sweetheart (also filled with guilt... what a surprise), but also very much the most lethal man in the room.

4. Cassandra Cain from DC comics: did I mention guilt??? And redemption???? I love her so, so much. She's so important to me.

5. Damian Wayne from DC comics: I'm sure by now you're already tired of me repeating "guilt and redemption". Anyway, he's my little boy and he deserves all the pets.

6. Selina Kyle from DC comics: MY QUEEN. MY GODDESS. She could slap me and I would thank her. She could empty my wallet and I would offer my bank information as well. She could...

7. Viktor from Arcane: I can't begin to describe how I feel about Viktor. I relate to him a normal amount.

8. Éowyn from LOTR: the badass shieldmaiden or Rohan, so full of bravery and compassion and love.

9. Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit: the epitome of "yeah I'll do it but I'll complain the whole time". Every time Bilbo thinks about how much he misses his sofa and his books I mutter a little "same, dude". He's just like me fr.

10. Inej Ghafa from Six of Crows: amazing, breathtaking, wonderful, badass, the world doesn't deserve her but she deserves her own pirate ship so she can hunt down all the assholes who hurt her and others <3

11. The Uncanny X-Men: I had to mention them as a bonus, okay? I tried to pick just one character of that era of X-Men (my favorite lineup of the team), but I genuinely couldn't. I love them all so much (except you, Charles Xavier. You can go eat dirt)

[ratatatastic]

"—in Game 7 when the puck is stuck in the corner...did that last forever? Were you like, 'Fuckin' McDavid's in front! McDavid's in front by himself!'" "Oh yeah, you wanna know why it lasted forever? So I was tired, so I'm like 'Fuck, I'm gonna change.' and there's 25 seconds left, I'd been out there for a minute-ten, I'm like, 'Let's make the smart fucking choice here, let me change. Get a fresh body out.' And Mikkola changed for me instead of Montour. And whether that was by design or not, that's two lefty defencemen with the mindset, 'let me get to that left side.' Forsling's already in there, then Mikkola comes straight off the bench straight into the pile, and then McDavid's alone out front. So we're all looking—for a second we're like, 'Holy shit, what's gonna happen here... hopefully Draisaitl doesn't make one of those ridiculous plays where he pulls it out of the corner and snaps it right to McDavid's stick.' But it ended up working out." "It worked out." "I know Jamie Kompon [Florida Panthers Asst. Coach] said that too, 'We had two left-shot defencemen out there at the same time. And like nobody is defending McDavid in front of the net.' But Mikkola—he did that a couple of times though! Where he just like all of a sudden, he was able to eat the puck along the wall to close out games." "Yeah, listen I don't blame him at all! For me as a right defenceman like..."

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

"You know, think about looking up at the clock and seeing—I think it was Connor [McDavid] and one other d-man [Ekholm] in front of the net when it was getting—fighting in the corner and we had nobody in front of the net! And we're all looking on the bench, we're like, '97's in the slot all alone...what are we doing here?'" "Best player in the world!" "It's funny looking at it now. I don't know who it was—Mikkola in the corner—he's like, 'That puck was not coming out, I can tell you that! I had that glued to the wall.' But yeah, you think about it now...the rest, it doesn't matter what the series was at—we won! And we're Stanley Cup Champions." "Exactly man!"

Empty Netters | 8.26.24 (x)

*there were 2 dmen out by the net near McDavid he could either be referring to Ekholm or Bouchard in this instance but Ekholm is closer to the net

and also because i think its interesting after ekky's game 7 mikksy changing for him anecdote he talks about how he cant play on the left and refuses to do so its pretty good stuff XD

"I can tell this now! That's Sylvain Lefebvre [Florida Panthers Asst. Coach] our D-coach—called me when he got hired [2022.] So I'm on the phone with him, we're chatting and he's like, 'Would you ever play the left side?' I'm like, 'Absolutely not! That's a skillset I just don't have. I see the right side of the ice and that 200ft of rectangle on the right side of the ice. That's just kind-of where I'm comfortable.' So I'm like, 'No, please do not put me on the left side!' Yeah so..." "You can do it!" "That's the first conversation? 'Hey, listen! I've been thinking about some things, drawing some pairings out on a napkin—wanna put you on the left side.'" "'Want you to be goalie!'" "That's—No!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

[desultory-novice]

"Beast" Language in Kirby

This idea came about via a Twitter conversation about Leongar (who is actually a good character, y'all! Don't be mean to the Beast Pack!)

So, Leongar speaks "Beast" as all the members of the Beast Pack do. When Fecto Forgo decided "this is my guy" he gave Leongar the gift of "human speech." Speech he didn't give the rest of the Beast Pack, who continued to talk to each other in meows, growls, and...whatever noises armadillos make? One of the first interesting concepts to emerge from this discussion of language was, did he keep those abilities even after Fecty's loss? Does Leon ever get frustrated or tired and begin roaring Earth invectives in "human-ese?"

(Does he know the lyrics to "Welcome to the New World?" XD )

But perhaps even more interesting, just going by character popularity (XD) King Dedede worked with the Beast Pack for... a while. We don't know how long he was in the Forgotten Land but the Waddle Dees had time to set up a whole town - twice. Does this mean King Dedede can now speak fluent "Beast?" ...Or could he ALWAYS speak fluent beast? (The language of his people, long ago?)

-

Sorry, sorry! Dess loves the "baby penguin walked through a random rift one day and ended up in Dream Land" theory! >w< 

-

And Daroach! (You knew I was going to bring the rat in.) The reason I bring up Daroach is quite simply because of "the squeaks." Not The Squeaks, his band of thieves. I mean the squeaking noises he makes!

Daroach "talks" in squeaks. You can hear it by putting on his dress-up mask. It's identical in practice to Clawroline's meows! (O-Of course, if one were to follow that logic off a cliff, it would mean Adeleine talks in "Sparkle-ese" but maybe that's what "human" sounds like to Kirby and the gang without the benefit of Lab Discovera and Fecto Forgo's "automatic galactic translation" feature/abilities!)

Again, I can't help but think that Daroach has ties to the Forgotten Land. And interestingly, if he and Meta Knight get along so well in extended media :cough cough: does Meta Knight ALSO speak "beast?" Has he studied it? Enough for basic comprehension?...

His obsession with books even in game canon means knowing a few unusual languages is not beyond him. (Plus I know many latched onto the idea from the RtDL novelization that he can at least recognize written Halcandran, even if he can't speak it fluently.)

I'm going to leave whatever language Magolor speaks (since it's probably NOT Halcandran now???) and the Jamba language out of this for now, as if the Lor uses Halcandran text, we at least know it's not a one-to-one match with FL-ese as it exists in the New World.

(Speaking of, the Lor text is used in Kirby's Air Ride! Game Theory: Ancients made the Air Ride Machines?!?) And though Jambandran is spelled similar to the way FL-ese is pronounced in Neichel's song, it's not identical either. But that's probably language drift!