#but he gets a scare and starts lashing out and becomes even more ruthless at his work. alicia leaves him

[mzannthropy]

Everyone knows I fucking hate this piece of garbage film (okay, I haven't watched it, but I read the book so that's how I know it's trash) but hey, a smiling shirtless Sam Claflin is still a smiling shirtless Sam Claflin.

[aspoonofsugar]

So, I keep seeing some takes on Em and Merc that seem to me as good victim and bad victim and I am scared this is where their story is going!

Hello anon!

I share @hamliet's thoughts on the matter, as for now. However, you give me the chance to explore some ideas that may be interesting thematically and structurally. I'll start from something hamliet said in her post:

If anything, Emercury’s story has the potential–deliberate or unintentional–to deconstruct the concepts of “good vs bad victim.”

The idea of the murder kids deconstructing good victim and bad victim is super interesting to me and - either intentionally or unintentionally - there are some elements that may suggest this is the case.

GOOD VICTIM VS BAD VICTIM

A morality trope about the often arbitrary distinctions writers make between certain sorts of victims. If a character in fiction has a problem or ailment or social situation, and the creators intend him to be sympathetic, the character will have acquired the problem in the most socially acceptable way. If the character isn't sympathetic, then he will have contracted the illness through "your own damn fault".

This definition by TV Tropes explains rather well what this trope is. It is the idea some victims are "better" because they express their victimhood in a more acceptable way compared to others. In some stories this ends up with only the good victim gaining sympathy, while the bad one is punished and condemned.

As per every trope, it can be executed well. Exploring how 2 people process their abuse and pain differently and how one may recover, while the other spirals out can be interesting. The important thing is to do so with empathy and with as little hypocrisy as possible. For example, even if it can be triggering... I like Zuko and Azula's arcs in ATLA. Zuko finds redemption, while Azula is defeated. However, Azula's arc is very interesting psychologically and I at least think it is executed with empathy. The story makes clear Azula is a victim as much as Zuko is. However, she is never able to get help or to truly face her feelings, so she has a bad ending. She is not portrayed as a monster, but as a person with glimpses of good in her that are never capitalized on. This makes her very human.

Now, RWBY plays with this trope, as well. For example, our abused heroes are all more sympathetic/likable than our abused villains. Blake and Weiss escape abuse by choosing to become huntresses, while Emerald, Mercury and Cinder lash out at the world because in pain. Despite this, I am so far rather happy of how RWBY is exploring victimhood.

For example, it is true Weiss and Blake are superficially "good victims", but they still show ugly sides specifically because of their abusers. Weiss is initially cold, entitled and racist. Blake instead is trying to find redemption from a life as a terrorist. These sides of the 2 girls are not explored much because both are already moving in the right direction by the beginning of the story. However, they are still present.

Similarly, RWBY lets its characters process trauma and abuse differently. For example, the Schnees' reactions to their family situation are contrasting. Willow and Winter both close off in opposite ways. Willow does so passively, while Winter actively. Willow stays, but is unable to help her kids, while Winter leaves, but still tries to help Weiss. Both put distance between themselves and their loved ones as a reaction to Jacques's abuse. Weiss and Whitley instead try to be like Jacques wants them to be. Initially, Weiss plays the part of the perfect Heiress, while Whitley presents himself as shallow, two-faced and ruthless. Despite this, all characters are shown empathy even if they make mistakes and have unlikable traits.

In short, so far RWBY has done a decent job when it comes to abuse (and this is true for CEM especially). Still, how do Emerald and Mercury come into this and how do they play into the good victim vs bad victim dychotomy?

BAD KID AND WORSE KID

Emerald and Mercury are both "bad victims" strictly speaking. They have gone through traumatic experiences in their childhood, but they still choose to hurt others out of love (Emerald) and fear (Mercury).

Despite this, there is a tendency in fandom (at least apparently, like... never trust internet and loud voices) to consider Emerald more likable/better/less guilty than Mercury. This tendency seems superficially supported in-universe too.

For example, the protagonists themselves are shown to prefer Emerald over Mercury while interacting at Beacon:

Ruby: That's great. Uh. Why don't we all go and get a victory food together?

Emerald: Oh, gosh, that's so nice of you, but my teammates are all kind of… (looking back at Mercury as he sniffs the inside of a boot, looking perplexed after he does so) …introverted. Really socially awkward.

Yang: Ooh, yeah, I could see that.

Similarly, there are some hints in openings:

In volume 6 the murder kids are shown looking in opposite directions (Em Hazel's, while Merc Tyrian's). What is more, Em is somber, while Merc smiles a little.

In volume 8 too Mercury is shown as a part of Salem's inner circle and he is smiling in a mean way.

However, one needs to simply look at Mercury and Emerald's interactions and actions in-series to realize that these are simply superficial red herrings, as for now.

No matter how much Mercury tells Emerald, the audience and himself he is happy where he is. It is clear as day, he is not. He is deeply scared.

Emerald's progress instead has been possible only because she has received a ton of help and has been much luckier than Mercury.

Let's explore these idea sand let's start with the way Salem has handled the 2 kids after Cinder's disappearence in volume 6.

STEALING ASSETS

It is implied Salem dislikes Cinder's tendency to collect "assets":

Salem: Hm, you certainly do enjoy collecting assets.

She clearly wants Cinder to be isolated, so that she can be under her complete control. What is more, she in general likes to abuse and completely drag into servitude everyone around her. Love, trust, personal wishes. Everything must come after her:

Salem: It's important not to lose sight of what drives us: Love, justice, reverence…But, the moment you put your desires before my own… they will be lost to you.

The same goes for the murder kids and Salem's interactions with them in volume 6 are meant to convey this. The moment Cinder is weakened and away, Salem immediately closes in on Emerald and Mercury and targets their bond with Cinder. She specifically starts with Em because she is the most fervently loyal to the Fall Maiden:

Salem: Emerald… I want you to tell me whose fault this was. Now.

Emerald: Cinder! We failed because of Cinder…

This whole interaction is a way to implement control on her subordinates. Hazel, Emerald and Mercury have failed, but their whole conversation with Salem is really not about their failure. It is a way for her to break them and bring them under her thumb even more. Hazel is not the reason they lost at Haven, but him being ready to take the blame is considered unacceptable. Either Hazel or Mercury could very easily tell Salem Cinder is the one at fault. However, Salem explicitly asks Emerald. She already knows Cinder is the one responsible, but she specifically wants Em to confirm it as a way to make her betray Cinder.

These are all abusive tactics because all of Salem's relationships are abusive. Not just Ozpin or Cinder, but all the other members of her inner circle are her victims. They need to adore her and can easily be punished for the most trivial thing if Salem feels like it.

Volume 6 is where she starts to extend her manipulative claws directly on the kids because there is no Cinder to mediate anymore. The result is that she incites different reactions into them:

Emerald: I just… Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things… But without her here, I don't know if what we're doing--

Mercury: You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Em who can't be abused through fear alone starts to have doubts. Merc instead who has been brought up by an abuser adopts his coping mechanism to become who his abuser wants him to be.

In any case, Salem has a pretty solid grip on both by this point. However, things start to change in the Atlas arc.

TAKEN AWAY

The moment Emerald and Mercury leave Monstra's belly they start different opposite journeys. On the one hand Emerald takes the path of redemption. On the other hand Mercury follows Tyrian in what is probably going to be a a horrible spiral of abuse.

What is interesting, though, is that both kids show very little agency for such pivotal moments in their stories. In a sense, rather than them making a choice, it is more like them being taken away by people on opposite sides of the conflict.

Mercury is literally dragged away by Tyrian and pushed on an airship he is not driving. In stories and dreams not driving a car or some other vehicle is symbolic of not being in control of where you are going. That is clearly the case here. Mercury has clearly zero agency in what is happening. What he does however is to fake control. This is his default coping mechanism. He discovers Salem wants to destroy the world and, before he can process the information, he is taken away and trapped more. So, he deflects the truth and moves forward on the path decided for him.

Emerald is instead encouraged to leave, protected and finally saved by Hazel. She is framed not as a heroine or as a villain making a decisive choice to gain redemption. Rather, she is presented as a child in need of understanding and protection. She is not the one taking the initiative to confront Oscar about the Lamp. She is not the one choosing they should leave. She does not take the most risky part in the operation. Finally, she makes no sacrifice. These are all actions took by Hazel, who is clearly the protagonist of the Witch Episode. Emerald is instead just a tag along.

In short, the kids are presented superficially as taking opposite paths. However, this "choice" is actually pretty much determined by others, at least partially. This is important because the authors could have made their respective decisions more resonant and poignant if they wanted to. They could have framed Mercury as in control (and not as an abused child) the moment he chooses to make a step further in his villanious path. Alternatively, they could have made Emerald more active and more pivotal in Hazel's redemption. For example, Em could have been the one freeing Oscar, they could have been confronted by Hazel and could have convinced him to interrogate the Lamp. This dynamic would have changed basically nothing on Oscar and Hazel's side of the story. Oscar would have still gone through Em and Hazel, while Hazel would have still defected and saved Em in the process. The only difference would have been to make Emerald more of an active part in her own defection.

However, this does not happen and Em and Merc seem much more like 2 abused kids that get better and spiral because of the context around them. Em is helped and saved, while Merc is trapped and isolated. This brings a series of interesting questions. For example, would have Emerald been able to escape if she were the one dragged away and trapped with Tyrian? Would have Hazel saved Merc too if he were the one on Monstra by the time he defects?

CHARACTERS, NOT PACKAGES

Obviously, I don't mean Emerald and Mercury could have been swapped and the story would have been the same. They are shown to specifically have opposite coping mechanisms and opposite reactions to the situation they are in. These behaviours bring different consequences that are independend from the context around them.

Emerald has always shown the most remorse over CEM's actions and she has always been more open about her feelings. This makes it easier for her to think about leaving the moment she realizes Cinder does not care. Mercury has instead always been more guarded and repressed, preferring to ignore his own feelings to avoid hurt. So, it is obvious that partly it is their different behaviours that make so they end on different paths.

What I wanted to highlight, however, is how much of their respective situations is also influenced by others. Emerald is scared of Tyrian and Salem, just like Mercury is. The moment Tyrian appears she cowers away in fear. Similarly, Salem touching her is enough for her losing all willingness to struggle. This is not because she is a coward, but it is the result of abuse. The same goes from Mercury, who lets himself be dragged away by Tyrian with no resistance. At the same time, both kids trust Hazel to an extent because he has been protecting both since Haven.

In short, Salem has been abusing both kids, Tyrian has been terroryzing them and Hazel has been protecting them. However, in volume 8 Emerald is taken away from Salem's clutches, while Mercury slips deeper into them. Similarly, Tyrian isolates Mercury, while Hazel sends Emerald away with her peers. At the same time, this outcome also makes sense with their respective arcs and reactions. Emerald finally sees Cinder for who she is and is rewarded. Mercury instead keeps repressing who he is and is punished.

As for now, there is a good equilibrium between showing Em progressing and Merc stagnating and making clear how she is given a lot for very little and he is given disproportionate retribution. This mix makes it difficult for me to believe they are just going for a good vicitm vs bad victim dynamic, especially when one considers the structure of their individual arcs.

EMERALD - REDEMPTION ARC OR ARC WITH REDEMPTIVE ELEMENTS?

Emerald's arc is just beginning, but some people are already criticizing it because it does not perfectly fit the classic redemption arc structure, which is described in this great post. However, I am gonna argue this is simply because Emerald's arc... is not really a redemption arc, but rather a positive change arc with some redemptive elements.

What does it mean?

Generally speaking, redemption arcs are always positive change arcs aka stories where the character has a positive transformation. However, redemption arcs are also a specific kind of positive change arc defined by well... redemption. By this I mean that a character getting redeemed is usually the very climax of the arc / a huge turning point and it usually happens close to the end of the story/ storyarc/ character story.

For example, Zuko and Catra get redeemed in the very last season of their respective shows. Moreover, for both getting redemption is a huge part of their stories. To Zuko it means overcoming his pride by giving up his royal status and leads to his relationship with Aang to change completely. To Catra it means to finally become selfless in her love for Adora, which in turn leads to the 2 of them ending up together. Notice also that for both Zuko and Catra their bond with respectively Aang and Adora is a major part of their characters. Zuko is Aang's pursuer since ep 1, while Catra is Adora's love interest.

When it comes to Emerald, this is not true. She finds redemption/is accepted into the main group at the beginning/in the first half of her story. Moreover, she has no special connection nor role in RWBYJNR's arcs and is starting just now to develop a bond (hence a narrative role) with Oscar. However, the 2 characters key to her story are not really the heroes, but rather Mercury and Cinder.

This difference has also consequences on a structural level. These are the phases of a "classic redemption arc" applied to Ilia's arc.

Initial crime - Ilia spies on Blake and stabs Sun while running away

Worsening of the crime - Ilia ruins the Belladonna's conference and takes part in a plan to kidnap Blake and kill her parents

Reckoning - Blake goes to meet Ilia and confronts her over her actions. Later on during their fight Blake keeps trying to get through to her.

Refusal of the reckoning - Ilia keeps refusing Blake's words and fights her

Suffering - Throughout the whole volume Ilia is shown doubtful, regretful, confused and in pain. This comes to a climax in her fight with Blake.

Acceptance - When Blake mentions her parents, Ilia starts becoming less assertive. Similarly, after Ghira saves her she is shown to have lost all willingness to fight.

More suffering - After the fight is over, she is desperate and starts crying.

Selfless sacrifice - She stunts the last standing man of the White Feng finishing the fight. This counts as a sacrifice because in this moment she is choosing to give up and to accept her arrest if it means the Belladonnas are safe. Later on, she is also the first one to answer to Blake's call in juxtaposition to her previous disturbance action towards Ghira.

Forgiveness - Ilia is forgiven by Blake, Sun and the Belladonnas.

Ilia's arc follows the basic structure. She has also a final redeeming moment in the Battle of Haven, where she disables the bombs and saves everyone. Let's highlight that the above structure does not go in the way of a classical positive change arc. Ilia starts the story believing a lie (Faunus can fight for equality only through hate and violence), but by the end she has learnt the truth (hate is not an answer and even if difficult one must fight to break the cycle of violence).

Emerald's arc instead does not exactly follow this structure. It seems to initially, but at one point there is a key step missing. To be specific:

Initial crime - Emerald together with Mercury helps Cinder to kill Amber

Worsening of the crime - The Fall of Beacon and all in between

Reckoning - She has 2 linked to 2 different flaws. Firstly, the famous "it is almost sad" comment. Secondly, Mercury telling her at point-blank Cinder does not care

Refusal of the reckoning - She keeps following Cinder no matter what

Suffering - All her scenes in Evernight, her crying at the battle of Haven, her crying while protecting Cinder from Penny

Acceptance - Once again she has 2. Firstly, the one on the Monstra Bridge, where she realizes Cinder treats her like Salem treats Cinder. Secondly, in Atlas underground where she sees people and children in danger because of the war

More suffering - She loses Hazel and is almost tortured by Salem

Selfless sacrifice - SHE LACKS ONE

Forgiveness - She is accepted into the main group after her attempted apology. Yes, obviously there might still be conflict (hopefully), but from what we have seen RWBYJNRO have all been pretty quick to welcome her.

Obviously, the key step which is missing is that of the selfless sacrifice. This moment is super important not just in redemption arcs, but in character arcs in general. That is because it is a climatic moment. Usually, the sacrifice is linked to the character flaw and to the want vs need. For example, Zuko sacrifices his position as Prince and his honor to do the right thing and go help Aang. Catra instead overcomes her selfishness by saving Glimmer. She helps Adora not to have something in exchange, but because she genuinely loves her and wants her to be safe and happy. Let's highlight that both Zuko and Adora are also tested again in the finale. Zuko sacrifices himself for Katara, while Catra sacrifices herself for Adora.

Emerald has so far sacrificed nothing for others. Neither has she been truly tested on her main flaw, which is her dependence on Cinder. She will probably be later on as it is possible her sacrifice will happen in the future. In this case, though, it is possible this climatic moment is not really a part of Emerald's redemption, but rather a resulf of it. Specifically, it arrives after she is forgiven and has reconciled with the main group.

This kind of structure is really nothing new for RWBY. It is actually the series "abusive survivor arc tm".

The survivor is able to escape the abuser, like Weiss and Blake in the White and Black trailers.

They find a healthy environment where they can grow stronger, like team RWBY and Beacon for Weiss and Blake.

They meet the abuser again and temporally regress, like Blake running from Adam and Weiss obediently following Jacques home.

They realize they are now stronger and can face and defeat the abuser. This happens with Blake defeating Adam and Weiss overcoming Jacques.

Emerald is now at the very first step of this journey. She has finally found the strength to leave Cinder and is now in a much healthier environment. She'll grow stronger from now on and will eventually be able to confront Cinder. This is the trajectory her story is taking and it is very similar to that of Blake and Weiss's. The theme here, much more than redemption is the breaking of the cycle of abuse. At the same time, Emerald has not only an antagonist to face (Cinder), but also a person to save (Mercury). Mercury is who Emerald might have been if she ended up stuck in Salem's inner circle instead of being saved. Just like Weiss's goal is to save her family (and not to renegade it) and Blake's to help the Faunus (and not to give up on them), Emerald's final objective should be to help Mercury out of the cycle as well.

MERCURY - AN IGNORED GOAL AND A REPRESSED WANT

Mercury's arc is a little behind Emerald's. However, there are still interesting consideration to make about it.

Firstly, if we consider it as a redemption arc in nuce, then he has gone through:

Initial crime - Same as Emerald

Worsening of the crime - Same as Emerald

Reckoning - Merc too has 2 and. Just like Em's, the first is about his personal journey, while the second is about the general conflict. Firstly, Tyrian spells out to him that he is just a scared kid. Secondly, Tyrian confirms Salem wants indeed to destroy the world. Let's highlight both times the reckoning is started by Emerald confronting Mercury, even if then it is Tyrian that drives it home

Refusal of the Reckoning - He chooses to follow Salem's orders despite Emerald's warnings

Suffering - Like Emerald, he has started this the moment he stepped in Evernight. However, it is clear his fun trip with Tyrian will drive this point home even more

Secondly, if we consider the "abusive survivor arc tm", then Mercury is clearly an inversion of it:

He kills his father, but instead of being freed, he gets trapped psychologically

He finds Emerald and Cinder and instead than a healthy environements ends up in another violent and abusive dynamic

He is now with his main abuser once again. Sure, Marcus is dead, but Tyrian is a clear step in

Basically, while Blake, Weiss and Emerald are given a chance to grow into a different environment, Mercury is negated it and keeps spiraling because of this. This arc too is not unique to him and can be called the "stuck with bad parental substitudes arc tm". It is shared by Cinder, obviously, but also by Winter (Jacques + Ironwood). Interestingly, all these characters seem to have a negative force and a positive force fighting over their souls. To Winter she must choose between Penny or Ironwood's philosophies. Cinder will have to choose between Salem and Ruby's. For Mercury, his 2 key characters are clearly set up to be Tyrian (abusive father step-in) and Emerald (who he might become and only loved one).

That said, when it comes to Mercury's story, the very interesting part comes by considering its set up. To be more specific, is Mercury's arc set up as a change arc or as a steadfast arc? Given the fact Mercury is introduced as a negative character, he can either stay steadfast (so remain negative and even spiral more) or grow and turn into a positive character.

I am gonna argue Mercury's arc is set up as a positive change arc because of this:

Mercury: And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his! "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!" He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back!

Mercury's missing semblance is a perfect character goal. A character goal is something needed in an arc. A character has a want that is represented by a physical goal. In order to reach the goal and fulfill the want, the character struggles with a flaw. Sometimes this basic structure gets complicated by the need vs want conflict. The character's want is not really what the character needs, so in the end they give up the want in order to get the need and reach true happiness.

For example, Emerald and Cinder's arcs are variations of the want vs need structure. Emerald wants to have a true family, which gets concretized in 2 conflicting goals. On the one hand what Emerald pursues is a relationship with Cinder. On the other hand what Emerald should pursue is a relationship with RWBYJNRO and Mercury. Cinder is the family she wants, but the others and Mercury especially are the family she needs. Similarly, Cinder wants to be powerful (want), but what she needs is to accept herself for who she is, so that her personhood and humanity are affirmed and recognized (need). This is all obviously linked to a want she is repressing that is her desire to be free. She tries to reach it through power, but she can only get it through choice.

When it comes to Mercury, his set up goal is to try and get his semblance back, which is clearly linked to the want to be himself instead than his father. However, what's interesting is that so far Mercury has done nothing to pursue this wish. He is not serving Salem because she has promised him he can get his semblance back, for example. Similarly, this detail of his background gets revealed only in volume 6. Think of how Emerald's desire to be loved by Cinder and Cinder's thirst for power are instead presented immediately in Beginning of the End, which is CEM's pivotal episode. This does not happen to Mercury, who tells the audience about his missing semblance only when prompted and provoked by Emerald. This is because Mercury has clearly given up on his want in favor of his need. Basically, his arc can be read as an inversion of the classical needs vs wants arc. He does what he needs to survive (he obeys Salem/Cinder/Marcus/Tyrian, kills and hurts others), but by doing so he has completely repressed what he wants. This explains why he is the most passive of CEM. Obviously he is passive, he is telling himself there is nothing he really wants! Except clearly there is or he would not have brought his semblance up with Emerald. Similarly, he would not care about Emerald so deeply if she had not come to be a part of who he is and what he wants.

It is obvious that Mercury will be at one point asked to choose between surviving (basic need) or truly being himself (his repressed want). This choice will probably be framed with him having to choose between his (fake) safety and Emerald. By choosing her, he will actually be choosing himself and living.

TWO SIDES OF A BAD VICTIM

Emerald and Mercury's arc being an exploration of good victim and bad victim played straight would be detrimental for both their stories.

Emerald's positive arc would be shallow because of how luck and help she received in juxtaposition to Mercury. They are presented as a set, are guilty of the exact same crimes and are similarly abused and victimized. It would actually also be potentially distasteful if the one saved is the girl with a powerful semblance (so abled), while the boy whose semblance is stolen (so disabled) gets left behind. Like, it is not even a secret Emerald's powerful semblance is actually one of the reasons why she is accepted so quickly into the group. Oscar comments on how useful her power is and Weiss uses it to trick Ironwood.

Mercury's negative arc would simply be a waste of set up in 90% of the cases. Why setting up an objective Mercury is not even pursuing? It would be different if by pursuing it he were to spiral, but so far Mercury has been incredibly passive in his "villanious path" (differently from Cinder, for example). Sure, things may change in future volumes, but for now he is clearly framed as a lost child rather than a cruel villain.

Finally, having 1 kid getting redemption and the other 1 spiralling and dying would not work for the greater narrative and for what Emerald and Mercury represent in it. They are clealry meant to be 2 sides of the series most relevant bad victim:

Emerald and Mercury's arcs are meant to comment Cinder's and to show what she needs to eventually do to free herself from the cycle. Her whole arc is probably gonna be a combination of Emerald and Mercury's. Because of this, both kids need to find redemption for Cinder to have hers. Sorry, but there are really not exceptions here. Cinder is the 2 kids' authority figure, who fails and abuses them. For her to get redemption, while one of her kids does not would be like Jacques getting redeemed while Whitley or Winter do not. It is not impossible to pull off (like everything in writing), but RWBY is rather direct when it comes to foiling, character hierarchies and framing. Emerald and Mercury are framed as kids more directly than Cinder is, they have killed no major character, they are not abusing people below them. Hence they are getting redeemed before Cinder herself.

[lemons3ason]

How the Vinsmoke Brothers React to Calling Out The Safe Word During Sex (Headcannons)

Warning: NSFW, dacryphilia, degradation, bdsm, size kink, overstimulation, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

~~~~~~~~~~

Ichiji Vinsmoke

-Genuinely this man has a soft spot for you, seeing the dewy teardrops sitting on your pretty lashes as you cry and beg him to stop rearranging your guts makes him so weak.

-Cold, ruthless, brutal, a monster, everything he was to others was just never a side you’d see of him, you made him human all because he loved you so dearly.

-“Come on beautiful just take it, I know you can you always do!”, he’ll growl glaring down at you with cold onyx hues.

-He has you in a mating press, his thick cock stretching your tiny pussy to the brink beneath him as he calls you his ‘tiny little pig slut’.

-It’s not until you call out his safe word that he realizes just how seriously he’s hurting you, “S-Sora!”, you had cried out making him stop everything in his tracks.

-The name alone is enough to make him go soft inside of you, he lets go of your thighs finally noticing the bruising from his rough grip on them and watched as you pulled yourself off of him and curled into a shaking ball on the bed.

-He’s unsure of what to say as you pant desperately for breath, something about his actions and word seemed different today and it scared you.

-The name Sora, his mother’s name, was a reminder for him to be kind and caring so that’s just what he did.

-He was forward and straight to the point, putting his boxers back on and pulling you by your arm until you sat up straight so he could throw one of his shirts over your naked form.

-“May I hold you?”, he’ll ask softly waiting for your response and once you nod yes he’ll lay down next to you pull you onto his chest and smother your face in kisses until you stop shaking.

-Once you’re comfortable enough he’ll adjust himself so he’s at your thighs and gently kisses the bruises he’s left on your skin, once you’re calling him up he’s pulling you back onto his chest and gently holding you and watches as you doze off in his warm arms.

-He’ll whisper soft compliments and praise to you gently rubbing circles against your back to keep you at ease while you sleep.

-The next morning you wake up horny but he’s sure to be much more careful with how he handles you, with you on your stomach and hips high in the air he enjoys your soft squeals as he fucks you from behind.

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

Niji Vinsmoke

-This man ties you up, your arms are tied behind your back allowing him to keep you up by yanking on the rope around your wrist, and your calves touch your thighs since he has them tied up allowing him full access to your pussy even if you tried to escape.

-The most brutal of all the brothers when it comes to sex, if you are very sensitive this is not the man you want to be with.

-Pounds brutally at your pussy, burying himself as deep as he can go and then some just to hear you scream, if he feels that you’re too dry he’ll let all that spit that’s accumulated in his mouth to dribble off the tip of his tongue to your hole before returning to thrusting your pussy into oblivion.

-You can normally handle it, usually your masochistic side is in pure pleasure from how he handles you but for some reason it just felt different today.

-“Hmm what’s the matter slut? Not feeling it today? You’re running dry fast today, need some more pain huh my little bitch?”, Niji growls grabbing a fist full of your (h/c) hair that sends your body into shock.

-You’re easily thrown into pure fear as memories as your days as a mistreated slave come flooding back, he had forgotten it for a brief moment but released your locks as soon as you screamed out, “Heartless!”, at the top of your lungs.

-Your devil fruit powers activated blades erupting from your skin, one scratching Niji’s cheek, and the others cutting your skin but helping you cut yourself free.

-You’ll pull away from him quickly, sitting as far from him as you can while you form yourself into a ball.

-Niji sucks at comforting people, even you. So he’ll leave and order Cosette to your room to calm you down while sitting outside your bedroom door in hopes that he’ll be let back in.

-Once you’ve fallen silent and Cosette emerges with an empty tray of plates and cups that she had provided food and beverages for you with she leaves without a word. The door is left open meaning that you are waiting for him.

-He’s silent, a obvious scowl etched over his face as he sees you asleep in fetal position on your side of the bed.

-His erection is long gone since the beginning of the incident, he won’t ask for sex for a while only if you are needy for some relief but he’ll let you do everything just to make sure you’re comfortable.

-Lays close enough to you to wrap an arm over your around balled form, buries his nose into your hair to enjoy your shampoo that he loves so much. He’s noticed that this relaxes you, eventually you unfold yourself throughout the night and you wake up with him pressed against your back and his arm around your waist.

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

Sanji Vinsmoke

-Usually...USUALLY...this man treats your body like a temple. Kisses every inch of it and praises your whole figure especially the places you’re insecure about but after a fight with Zoro he was furious and took it out on you.

-Your back is pressed against the bathroom wall of the ship, tears falling from your hazy eyes as Sanji fucks the fourth orgasm out of you.

-Your tears and whines just egging him on to fuck you more. Your fists weakly punch and push at his chiseled chest to get him off of you but he’s not listening.

-“S-S-Sanji! St-op please!”, you sobbed trying to push him off of you.

-“Stupid moss head...saying he’s better for you then I am. I’ll show him. Your pussy will only be molded to my cock no one else’s!”, the blonde growled.

-His thrusts are so rough that they make your breasts bounce every time his cock fills your wet cunt, your whole body is burning and you can’t feel your legs. You just want it to stop.

-“Prince, stop!”, you begged calling out the title that Sanji absolutely hated.

-He stopped finally taking in how weak your body was from his constant overstimulation. He returns back to his gentlemanly state and puts you down making sure to keep you leaning against him since your legs are weak.

-“I’m sorry my love, I made you so uncomfortable that you had to say that word...I-I’m so sorry.”, he’ll apologize over and over even after you’ve said that it’s okay.

-He’ll gently clean you off, making sure to be careful with your sensitive body, scrub your head with the shampoo he loves so much, before finally joining you in the warm bath and relaxing with you.

-He knows that he was the cause of the issue but he stays by your side hoping you’ll forgive him, carries you to bed once he’s thrown one of his long shirts over your sweet body, and carries you to bed.

-He cooks you your favorites so you can enjoy a nice meal before sleep and absolutely swoons over how cute you look while stuffing your cute face.

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

Yonji Vinsmoke

-This man is huge compared to you in every way, towers over you and admired you as his prey but god does he love you.

-Not as mean as Ichiji and Niji but still an insult slips out of his mouth here and there when he has you bouncing on his thick cock.

-He loves the way your ass bounces when you come down hard on his cock taking his whole member in despite how small your pussy is compared to his length.

-He smiles at the feeling of your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs as you ride him silly.

-“Yeah pretty girl that’s it. Take it all in.”, he’ll order striking the plump flesh of your ass with his heavy cold hand.

-He’s not even trying but his heavy hand leaves a mark on your tiny cheeks in seconds, the sweet cry of his name motivates him to do it again and your hip movements become long forgotten as Yonji slaps you ass.

-Each hit makes you clench around his cock, strangling it in your tight little walls. He adore the sensation but quickly becomes impatient so his hips start moving plunging his cock so deep that you feel the entrance of your cunt rub against his pelvis.

-“That’s it you like getting spanked don’t you stupid princess? Come on try harder, I’m gonna fill you up with a little heir to my name and you’re gonna take it all.”, Yonji growls smacking your thigh.

-You can’t take anymore strikes from his hand, your cervix hurts from how much he’s been thrusting into you. So you can’t do anything but cry out the word, “Monster!”, you cry out making Yonji freeze up immediately.

-As you collapse off of his member his brothers barge in like nothing informing him of the new mission they’ve been appointed, both of them staring at your shaken form as you try to cover yourself.

-Niji dares to reach out to you with a shit face grin on his face but Yonji doesn’t let his brother touch you. He throws his royal cape over your naked body and shoves his brothers out of the room to change.

-“Stay here, rest up. I should’ve realized that it was to much for you, don’t be mad at me.”, He’ll sigh, the tall green haired man will get on his knees placing his head on your thighs waiting for your forgiveness.

-You forgive him once your body has calmed down and gently play with his hair forgetting that he has to leave on a mission until Niji starts pounding at the door.

-“I’ll be back beautiful. Just wait for me and I’ll make it up to you.”, he smirks pressing a hot kiss to your plump lips.

[cinnaminsvga]

Undercover (M)

→ summary: the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them? 

the only rule? you must keep quiet at all costs.

→ pairing: vamp!jungkook x reader x siren!seokjin → genre: bodyguard!au, supernatural, smut → warnings: dom!jin, switch!kook, sub!reader, remote vibrator, rough public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, blood-drinking, hypnotization, jin is kinda sadistic, basically pwp ;_; → words: 5.4K → a/n: this is for the holiday fic exchange that was held on @btsghostiewritersnet!! my fic is dedicated to ms @jincherie​ (aka the loml and also the recipient of 1/3 of the fics i’ve written this year??) who requested this prompt. i’m not really good with poly or smut fics, but i tried my best??? it ended up being a lil more jk centric than i anticipated but HHHH IDK I JUST HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN A TEENY BIT ;o; anyway... happy holidays everyone!!

You can feel their eyes on you.

Except that isn’t much of a revelation—they are always watchful of you, after all. Your father pays a hefty enough salary that they would risk their lives to keep you safe, so it isn’t much of a surprise to know that they are lurking at the sides, keeping distant and close all at once.

This time, however, is different. You know for a fact that it is different. There is a subtle shift in the air, something tangible enough that you can almost touch it, taste it. You know that if you glance back at them, you will find two pairs of eyes, watching and waiting for… something.

That fact alone is enough to keep the goosebumps on your arms from subsiding. You feel like a canister just waiting to burst, a small disturbance enough to get you to erupt into flames and burn every last inch of propriety left in your being. Tonight, they are here to ruin you.

“Why are you acting so damn fidgety? Stand still,” your brother huffs after a while, pinching you lightly in the side. It breaks you from your reverie, causing you to jolt away with wide eyes.

“W-what?” you ask breathlessly. You wipe your clammy hands across your expensive dress, leaving wrinkles in their wake. “Sorry. I just… had a lot of coffee before coming here, is all. I needed the wake-me-up.”

He watches you for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. You can tell that he’s suspicious, but he inevitably shrugs it off, too unbothered to care. Like you, it takes a whole deal to get Yoongi excited about anything, and having a jumpy sister is far from reaching his quota. “Whatever. Just don’t cause a scene, alright? These events might be boring as hell, but dad has a bunch of important people here tonight, so you better get your shit together.”

You snort. “Right. Like when does he not invite important people to these parties?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. Just behave, alright? I’m not covering for you if you piss someone off.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of asking,” you mutter. Little does he know, you are already planning on behaving tonight, anyway. That is the name of the game, after all.

On a makeshift stage at the head of the ballroom, your father has just finished giving his opening remarks, thanking all his esteemed guests for making it to tonight’s banquet. Polite applause follows soon after, the clamor loud enough to mask the way you inhale sharply in surprise. Your back straightens imperceptibly, your body going rigid as if you had been struck by lightning. To your left, your brother is none the wiser to your panic, his attention glued to his phone.

When the clapping breaks, you nearly speak your prayers aloud when the ambush on your senses suddenly stops as well. You take one, two calming breaths, your core throbbing needily as you await the second wave to hit. Disappointed when nothing comes, you smooth your dress down, fighting the urge to look around to see if anyone was watching.

Legs slightly weaker and breath a little shakier, you walk among the throngs of people as they make their way to their seats, getting ready for dinner to be served. Instead of heading to where your family’s table would be located, you change direction halfway and walk towards the back. Yoongi does not comment, just nodding back at you and going the other way as well. This is normal etiquette for both of you, anyway—your father has always expected the two of you to wander during these parties, greeting guests and socializing with them as proper hosts should.

Except that isn’t on your agenda for tonight. Right now, you have a game to play, and you don’t intend on losing your focus to anything else.

It does not take you long to find who you are looking for. Just like he promised, Jungkook is standing close to the east entrance, standing stock still against the wall in his designer black suit. When he notices you approach, his stern demeanor softens, a small smile gracing his Adonis-like features. It is nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it is enough for a flash of something sharp to catch your eye. It disappears before you can even blink, but you know that what you had seen is far from a figment of your imagination.

To an outsider, Jungkook looks as intimidating as any regular bodyguard should be: tall and muscular, coupled with a dangerous gaze that could pierce diamond. He certainly works like one too, as your father would have never hired him if he wasn’t 100% sure that Jungkook was up to his lofty standards.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is something else that sets Jungkook apart if you just looked close enough. Even from a few feet apart, you can see the redness lining his irises, the deathly pallor of his skin, the sallowness of his cheeks. As you get closer, you notice other things too, like how his hands tremble against his sides and how his breathing has gotten shallow.

Everything about him screams vampire—a starving one, at that.

“How long has it been now?” you murmur, gently nudging your shoulder against his. You keep close to him, feeling yourself relax at the mere scent of him. Jungkook always somehow manages to smell good; you suppose that’s a given since you don’t think he’s even capable of sweating.

“Since the party started?” he asks.

“No, silly. How long has it been since you last fed?”

“Three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-one minutes, ma’am. But who’s counting?” he wheezes, offering you a strained smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really, but I know you,” you reply. A little too well, in fact. “Seokjin hasn’t even allowed you a snack? Even once?”

Jungkook coughs out a laugh, amused. “You and I both know that hyung wouldn’t be that merciful. He did say that if I behave today, then maybe…” he trails off. You don’t miss the way he stares longingly at you, thinly veiled desire rolling off him in waves.

You feel the blood rushing up to your face, turning away from him in embarrassment. You have to remind yourself not to rub your neck, lest the make-up covering your fading scar give away your dirty little secret. “I’m sorry, by the way. I kind of did this to both of us, huh?”

Jungkook chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. You shoot him a warning glare, but you both know he only dares to get comfortable with you when he’s sure no one is watching. Besides, it’s always been hard for you to get mad at the boy, not when he has always been so sweet with you.

“No, it’s fine. We all agreed to this when you proposed it. Besides, neither hyung nor I are going to risk our health when your safety is on the line. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glancing at him doubtfully. You have never seen Jungkook quite so… unhinged before, as if he’s just a step away from teetering off the edge. It scares you just as much as it arouses you, but you make sure to keep that to yourself. “I honestly didn’t think Seokjin would be this ruthless.”

Jungkook snorts. “I’ve known him for a long time, Y/N. Trust me when I say that he is definitely going easy on us, especially you.”

“If this is easy, I’m afraid to know how he’s like when he goes all out then,” you say, but the thought of Seokjin becoming even more merciless than usual sends an excited shiver down your spine.

“How about you?” Jungkook asks. “Are you doing okay with the, um, you know?” He flushes, still shy to even say it aloud even after all the things the two of you have done together.

You giggle, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You tell me, Koo. You can smell me, can’t you?” You lean closer, looking at him through your lashes. “You could probably smell from across the ballroom, especially with how hungry you are… My poor baby,” you coo. You have your chest pressed against his, your low neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. And yet, his gaze is fixed elsewhere, red eyes following the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

It’s a rhetorical question; you know he can smell you. The remote vibrator in your underwear has been on the lowest setting ever since the night started. The vibrations are persistent enough to keep you constantly aroused, but it’s never enough to give you what you really want.

And just when you think you’ve gotten used to the sensation, Seokjin will spike it up occasionally, causing your composure to crack ever so slightly. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t turned it on to the highest setting yet, but judging from how the dampness of your underwear has seeped past your thighs, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to keep your cool if he did.

“Do I smell good, Koo? I know you said my blood tastes sweetest when I’m like this, right?” you whisper, trailing a finger down his chest. He does not reply, his nostrils flaring as he struggles to control his breathing. He has a dangerous edge in his expression, a simmering darkness just begging to be released. It’s the kind of lust that sweet and lovely Jungkook hardly ever has the capability of showcasing, except during moments like these, when he is at his hungriest and most desperate.

“I’m not going to lose the game this early on,” he says, voice quiet. There is danger in still waters, you recall your mother telling you when you were younger, and you find that there is truth behind her words after all. Jungkook may sound calm, but the edge in his tone is laced with meaning.

“No fun,” you laugh.

As if on cue, your own dose of karma hits you when Seokjin decides to turn the vibrator up to its maximum setting. “Shit,” you gasp, barely holding back your moans. You nearly double over, mostly from shock, not expecting the intensity of the vibrations. You feel your legs turn to jelly, your body heating up and breaking out into a sweat. You have to lean against Jungkook for support, your grip on his biceps so tight that you’re afraid that you might have torn through the fabric. If he had been human, you might have worried that you were hurting him.

Jungkook stumbles slightly against your weight, surprising the both of you as he’s normally as sturdy as a brick wall. Your worry for Jungkook supersedes the lust addling your brain long enough to wonder if his blood fast is starting to affect him.

“S-sorry, Koo. Are you okay? Are you getting dizzy from hunger?” you ask, your words stilted and breathy as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your veins. “We can go somewhere and—fuckfuckfuck—”

You are unable to finish your sentence, having to muffle your moans by biting into his shoulder. You’re shaking and panting, the relentless assault on your clit causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down your cunt and ruin your panties even further. The coil inside of you is close to snapping, your long-awaited climax just inches away. You have half a mind to reach under your dress and chase after your high, but the sensible part of you reminds you that you are still at a public event—your father’s public event, to be exact. So instead, you wrap your arms around Jungkook to restrain yourself, looking to all the world as if you were just two lovers in an embrace.

Just as you’re about to finish, the vibrator shuts off completely, snatching away any hopes of you coming. You want to scream in frustration, a few tears threatening to fall as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Eventually, you release your death grip on Jungkook, keeping your head bowed to hide the way you’re still short for breath. When you feel less hazy, you take a shaky step away from him while muttering apologies to Jungkook.

“S-sorry about that. So much for Seokjin going easy on me, huh? I really didn’t expect him to pull a fast one on me like that—”

When Jungkook doesn’t respond, you turn back to face him. “O-oh,” you whisper lamely, your blood heating up when your gaze meets his. “Jungkook?” you call out, though you don’t think he’ll be up for much conversation right now.

You have never quite seen him like this before. His eyes have started glowing red, so much so that there’s barely a sliver of white remaining. His fangs have extended far past what should have been humanly possible, its sharp tips puncturing his bottom lip. He doesn’t even appear to be moving, not even showing any signs that he might have been breathing at all.

“Jungkook,” you repeat. You tug on his sleeve hesitantly, but he stands as still as a statue. “Jungkook, get a hold of yourself!” It takes you a few moments of coaxing and shaking before some semblance of lucidity returns to him.

He blinks a few times, but his incisors have yet to retract. “Sorry,” he grunts, bringing a hand up to his face. He rubs at his eyes, and when he reopens them, they’ve stopped glowing. His irises are still a deep shade of red. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d lose myself there. That’s never happened before.”

“You were kinda scary there for a second,” you laugh nervously. “Almost like you were going to eat me alive.”

“I honestly might have,” Jungkook admits. “If Seokjin hadn’t stopped you from coming right then, I might have just fed from you right in the open.”

You shiver. You kind of hate yourself for liking the sound of that, even if it was hypothetical. Your bodyguards wouldn’t risk your reputation like that. For a moment, it almost could have been real though, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

“You would’ve lost the game then,” you say instead.

Jungkook chuckles weakly, shaking his head. “You, Seokjin, and I already knew from the start that if anyone was going to lose, it was always going to be me.”

“Conceding defeat, then?” you ask. You press your thighs together in anticipation, catching the way he watches your movements like a predator awaiting its prey. “Is anyone watching us?”

With your back facing the party, you would never have known if anyone was close enough to hear your strangled moans back then. Ever the attentive bodyguard despite hunger and lust clouding his mind, Jungkook had still made sure that the two of you were far away enough from prying eyes. Well, with the exception of one.

“He was watching us,” Jungkook mumbles. You don’t turn to look when he points somewhere behind you. “He’s by the northwest entrance. He was watching us the whole time, but now he’s talking to your brother’s bodyguard.”

“How much do you wanna bet he won’t notice us sneaking out?” you ask, giggling when Jungkook gives you an incredulous look. “What? Didn’t you once say you could sneak me out of anywhere without my father knowing?”

“Your father and Kim Seokjin are two different people in two different leagues,” he points out. He glances at Seokjin once more, rubbing his neck nervously. “Oh, he’s definitely going to figure out what we’re doing the moment we get out of here.”

You shrug, already tugging him by the hand towards the restroom outside the ballroom. You wink at him, your giggles full of mischief. “Then it’s settled. We lose this game, and then we start another one.”

“Another one?” Jungkook echoes, following you like a dutiful pet. When you exit the ballroom, you find the reception area empty save for a few other security guards loitering by the elevators, surreptitiously on their phones. You easily make it past them and head to where the restrooms are, setting your sights on the polished wooden doors.

You push Jungkook inside the women’s restroom, locking the door once you both are settled inside. Turning to face him with an eager grin, you almost let out a laugh at the overenthusiastic gleam in his eyes. “New game plan. I call this one the ‘let’s see if we can get off before Seokjin catches us’ game.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Jungkook chuckles, but he’s already opening his arms when you walk over to him. You accept his embrace, pressing him against the marble sinks and slotting your lips together.

The kiss is fiery, all teeth and no finesse. He has one hand grabbing fistfuls of your ass and the other cupping your jaw as he holds you in place. Your own hands almost seem like they don’t know what to do, scrambling up and down his sides before finally locking around his neck as your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s incisors cut your lips accidentally, causing droplets of blood to trickle down. They don’t even make it past your chin before Jungkook’s voracious tongue is already lapping it up, his groans echoing in the vastly large room.

You barely register the pain before Jungkook is offering another distraction in the form of his lips trailing down to your jaw until he reaches your neck, his breath leaving goosebumps across your skin. “Y/N,” he rasps, his fangs dizzyingly close.

Before he can choose to do anything, you trail a finger to his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes appear glazed over, almost as if he isn’t even fully cognizant of his surroundings. But when he catches sight of the way a fresh droplet of blood is already beginning to take form on your lips, his gaze hardens immediately.

You smirk, giggling when he groans at you licking up your bloodied lip. “No marks on my neck, baby. You’re gonna have to drink from down there.”

In any other scenario, you might have been concerned at how quickly he drops to his knees. He doesn’t look too bothered, however, as he bunches up your dress to your chest and tears your pathetic excuse for underwear into shreds. The small purple vibrator falls to the ground along with it, neither of you worried about where it is rolling away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, burying his nose into your cunt. You yelp loudly, sensitive after hours of edging. You unconsciously try to trap him with your thighs, but he holds them apart with an iron grip. From your vantage point, you can only see his eyelashes grazing your stomach as he licks two long stripes across your slit, nearly causing you to fall over had he not been holding you.

“Shit.” He leans back to look at you properly, his mouth shiny with your slick. “Can I? Can I please?”

You don’t even know what exactly it is that he’s asking, but you’re already nodding anyway, eager for him to do something, anything. “Yes, yes, yes. C’mon, Koo. Give it to me,” you whine. Your voice sounds hoarse to your ears, desperate and delirious.

Not one to disobey, Jungkook does exactly that. One moment he is on the floor and the next he is lifting you with ease, placing you on the marble counter and standing between your legs to keep them spread. He returns to kneeling and hooks your legs onto his shoulders. He caresses your thighs with a gentleness that seems out of place, craning his neck sideways so he can plant a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

You whimper impatiently, nudging him with your knee. “Jungkook, this is sweet and all, but my pussy has been aching to be stuffed for hours now so I’d really appreciate it if we can just get on with the pro-o-g-gram—” you stammer, your verbal skills forgotten the moment his thumb brushes your clit. Your body jerks on instinct, his delicate touch like lightning on your skin. “Ah, fuck! Jungkook, please!”

You have your head thrown back, unable to keep still when he proceeds to push a finger into you without warning. He pumps into you slowly, the drag of his fingertips torturously slow as you incoherently beg for more.

“More? You fucking asked for it,” he grunts, adding a second finger and being rewarded with another chorus of moans from you. He fucks his fingers into you like a drill, the obscene squelch of your sopping cunt coupled with the sound of palm hitting against your clit is like music to his ears. He can sense the way your blood is rushing through you right now, pleasure thrumming through your limbs and making you intoxicatingly sweet.

“I can’t wait to taste you, darling,” he says, licking his lips in anticipation. “You must love this, don’t you? Love it when I finger you like this, even though you know hyung is going to catch us and punish us for this?”

You nod fervently, incoherent babbles dribbling from your open mouth. “W-want both of you! Want S-Seokjin to catch us and make us cry.” You gasp, your stomach clenching when he curls his fingers in just the right way to make your toes curl in pleasure. “Koo, I’m a-almost there!”

Your pussy, despite hours of being constantly aroused, still feels like a vice grip, selfishly sucking him back. He relishes your moans, drawing more sounds out of you that you had not known you were capable of producing. There is no time or space for shame as your whines grow higher in pitch, calling out his name when you sense your orgasm approach.

Jungkook feels feverish when he finally takes a bite from your skin, your blood made sweeter when you climaxed from his fingers alone. The meat of your thigh gushes crimson like a fountain upon his desert-like tongue. He is drunk on you; not even nectar can be sweeter than you.

He drinks for what feels like hours, lapping at your wound until he cannot stomach another drop. A blatant lie, of course, but he also does not wish to drink you dry. So with a heavy heart, he pulls away, leaving one last lick up your thigh to stop the bleeding. He slumps back on his knees, his head lolling drowsily as he looks at you with a satisfied smile.

You are in no better condition, your chest heaving as you struggle to regain your sanity after both the mind-blowing orgasm and blood loss. Still, you smirk sleepily back at him, your eyebrow raised as if in question.

“What?” Jungkook drawls.

Instead of a verbal response, you point at his crotch with your feet. When he looks down, his dick is completely hard, his erection straining against his slacks. He was so deeply engrossed in the flavor of you that he had not even stopped to consider his own arousal, but now that it has been so kindly pointed out by you, the need to be inside of you consumes him like a fire burning him on a stake.

A guttural sound escapes his throat, a renewed fervor pushing him to climb to his feet in an instant. Impatient, he struggles for a moment to loosen his belt, has half a mind to just tear his pants in two when—

“Jeon Jungkook, can you hear me?”

Jungkook stiffens. Unable to hear the voice coming from his earpiece, you give Jungkook a quizzical look, wondering why he’d suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Koo? What’s the matter?” you ask, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Jeon Jungkook, answer me,” Seokjin’s voice is slightly garbled by static, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable.

Jungkook swallows thickly. He lifts the small microphone attached to his lapel, bringing it closer to his lips. “H-hyung?” he stutters. Your eyes widen, realization and panic seizing you.

You both share a frantic look. Fuck!

Seokjin chuckles darkly. “Took you long enough. Did you and our little mistress have fun?”

“W-well, we—” Jungkook stammers, looking to you for help. You shrug your shoulders, equally as tongue-tied. He returns to his mic, “We were just, umm…”

“Open the door,” is all Seokjin utters before Jungkook’s earpiece goes dead. Jungkook rips the small piece of plastic from his ear, both of you turning to the door when a loud knock reverberates across the restroom.

“It’s…” Jungkook cuts off, but he doesn’t need to say anything for you to know exactly who is waiting outside the door.

“Open the door,” Seokjin repeats, but there’s a certain quality to his voice that makes both you and Jungkook immediately want to follow his command. Without another word, Jungkook stands up stiffly, his feet dragging as he unlocks the door to allow him inside.

“No fair,” you complain. You pout, crossing your arms. “You used your siren voice on us!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to use it if you two weren’t acting like a pair of brats,” Seokjin says, sickly sweet. He’s smiling, but there is darkness lingering in his expression. It doesn’t help that your lower body is still exposed, free for his gaze to roam. “Do you have any idea how much trouble the two of you are in?”

“I’m sure my father is hardly concerned,” you scoff, filled with false bravado. You smirk when his eyebrows furrow, keen to tempt his anger. After all, Seokjin is the most fun to play with when he lets go. “Besides, I pay you to look out for me, don’t I? I’d expect you to come up with an excuse on our behalf.”

“I suppose so,” Seokjin hums. He glances at Jungkook, whose prior arousal has yet to subside. In a flash, Seokjin has Jungkook backed up to a toilet cabinet, roughly grabbing his bulge. Jungkook wheezes, his eyes flashing open in surprise.

“And you?” Seokjin asks, using his free hand to force Jungkook to face him. “You understand that you left your post, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook gasps out. Seokjin’s grip tightens, and Jungkook releases a soft moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes hyung,” Jungkook emphasizes, his hips unconsciously rutting upwards. Seokjin situates his thigh in between Jungkook’s legs, letting the younger boy rock against it for a few moments before pulling back just as quickly. Jungkook whines pathetically, jaw agape.

“You both lost the game. What makes you think you deserve anything?” Seokjin asks. He directs his question to you, glancing over his shoulder. “Well? Did I interrupt something I wasn’t supposed to see?”

When you don’t reply, Seokjin frowns. “Answer me, Y/N.”

His voice is musical, and it pulls the answer out of you, unable to resist. “Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth.

“What were you going to do?”

“He was going to fuck me,” you say. You smirk when his shoulders tense. “We were going to fuck without you.”

At your admission, Seokjin considers you with an unreadable expression. The tension in the air is tangible. Jungkook has his eyes averted, but judging from the way his cock twitches in his trousers, you know he’s also aware of what’s going to happen. All you need to do is wait a little, and then Seokjin will—

He steps away from Jungkook and walks towards the chaise lounge situated near the wall of the entrance. He sits on it primly, his back straightened as though he were about to call you in for tea. “Go on then,” he says, flapping his hands flippantly. When neither of you moves, he quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “What? Don’t let me ruin your fun. Continue where you left off.”

“Um…” you say, thoroughly at a loss. This is usually the point where Seokjin decides to punish either of you, or perhaps drag the two of you back home for more adequate disciplinary action. Instead, he seems content to allow the two of you to do as you please. He has a mask of indifference on, and it’s always been a little hard for you to figure out what he was really thinking.

“But…” Jungkook gulps. “W-we wanted you to, um…”

“What? To join you? Oh please,” Seokjin laughs, a little cruelly. “No, I’d rather not stop your fun. Carry on.”

“But—”

“Carry. On.” Seokjin commands, his power trickling onto his words. At once, Jungkook straightens up, his feet carrying him towards you and spreading your legs apart. You gasp, the sudden movement surprising you.

“Seokjin, what are you..?”

“Fuck her, Jungkook,” Seokjin interrupts, ignoring your baffled stutters. “Fuck her until she can’t even stand.”

Jungkook shoves down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, kicking them off his ankles somewhere behind him. He situates his cock against you, rubbing the tip against your slit for a second before thrusting forward and splitting you open.

You both scream and moan at the sensation, your warm walls clamped around him deliciously. He begins his brutal pace immediately, both due to his desperation to meet his orgasm and also the magic imbued in the simple command given by Seokjin.

The intoxicating roll of his hips has your eyes seeing stars as he pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in. He angles himself until he hits your sweet spot with every thrust, ripping ragged whimpers from your throat. Your second orgasm is quickly building before you know it, your body tightening up as he continues to rut into you.

With a trembling moan, you gush around him, coating his cock with your arousal. Your legs are still shaking even after you finish, your entire body going limp from the exertion. Jungkook slows down, still painfully hard inside of you.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep going,” Seokjin utters quietly. He is the picture of calmness, his hands folded delicately onto his lap.

“What?” you exclaim. “I can’t, no, it’s too much—”

But when it comes to Seokjin, his word is the law. Between the two of you, Jungkook has always been more susceptible to his voice, completely powerless under Seokjin’s influence. And so, Jungkook resumes fucking into you, mindlessly obedient.

“I’m too—Jungkook, stop, I’m sensitive,” you cry out, but your pleas go unheard as he reaches between the two of you, his thumb grazing your clit and causing your entire body to jolt forward. Your walls squeeze around his cock in response and Jungkook trembles in pleasure. His ministrations on your clit, in tandem with the swiveling of his hips, are almost vicious, the sting both pleasurable and painful.

You can feel the beginnings of tears forming, the assault on your senses almost too unbearable to handle. “S-Seokjin, please! Make him stop!”

Jungkook is nearing his climax, his rhythm growing erratic and showing no signs of slowing down. He is unable to hear you past his desire, completely entranced and hypnotized.

“You want him to stop? Fine,” Seokjin says, amused. “Jungkook, stop.”

“No, please!” Jungkook lets out a tortured wail. His body freezes in place, his cock still twitching inside of you. The poor boy lets out a few stray tears, his eyes squeezed shut as his body refuses to do his bidding. He sobs, his voice cracking as he pleads, “Hyung, I was so close!”

“Not my problem,” Seokjin giggles. He gets up from his perch on the sofa, leisurely walking towards the both of you as he surveys the frozen boy with a satisfied grin. “That ought to teach you a lesson,” he says, patting Jungkook on the back.

“And you,” he says, facing you, “aren’t getting away so easily.”

You gulp, a shudder running down your spine. “B-but, the party..?”

Snorting incredulously, Seokjin taps his microphone on. “Namjoon-ssi? Yes, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. I found Miss Y/N. It seems that she is having stomach problems, so I’ll be escorting her home. Please inform Master Min about her early departure,” he says in one breath, shutting his earpiece off before the other man can reply.

“It seems like everything is already taken care of,” Seokjin says angelically, even though he is anything but. He bends down to pick up Jungkook’s discarded pants, handing them to the younger. He also finds your forgotten vibrator under one of the sinks, picking it up and placing it neatly into his pocket.

He smiles. “Get dressed, both of you. The night is still young, after all.”

[animeyanderelover]

Since I got a request including these two and I didn’t write Hc’s for them I decided to do that now.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, overprotective behavior, manipulation, guilt-tripping, stalking, bipolar behavior, mentions of kidnapping, death

Yandere Reiner and Bertholdt Hc’s

Reiner Braun

🟤Reiner is an overprotective one. I already mentioned it, but this is a basic trait for the whole cast in here and he also witnessed how Marcel died without him being able to do anything. He’s also a manipulative, strict, cruel and still desperate one. Reiner is smart and can be extremely harsh sometimes, knowing what to say to make his darling feel really humiliated, threaten them or can be even very charming and fool his darling. But he also is someone who wishes his darling to understand him. His childhood haunts him and he has serious mental issues plus the fact that he tends to have a negative perception to himself. So it shouldn’t be too much to ask for the smallest bit of love, right?

🟤Self-aware of his unhealthy feelings and even a bit ashamed of it. He is also unconsciously sometimes a violent one. He is hardly that pissed off that he would hurt you, but he has somewhat of a split personality and if triggered enough he’ll switch to a more violent side that will hurt you. And as soon as he snaps out of it he will ask panicked what happened to you. He has still a soft spot for you. Despite his personality switch and his harshness there is genuine love inside of him.

🟤We’re taking the examples for the times when he was still living inside the walls. Self-awares who are ashamed of their feelings always have the advantage that they will try to hold their jealousy under control. Reiner has, if not shifting into his other personality, a good amount of control and will let his darling interact with other people. But if someone is too flirty or touchy with them he’ll step in. Being seen as a big brother by many other cadets and being able to be very intimidating when needed normally always succeeds in making the other person step away.

🟤Reiner really tries to see the perspective from other people, but if someone overdoes it that always gives him the last straw. He has as mentioned serious mental issues and his other personality is more ruthless and ready to get rid of others in his way.

🟤His darling’s happiness is important to him, but here again, his other personality can become a problem. Normally he always tries to talk things out with his s/o, but if his buttons are pushed right, for example if his darling gets hurt badly or wants to leave him, he has no problem with locking them away. But when he left the Walls he took his darling for sure, not wanting to leave without them.

🟤Due to his two personalities Reiner is a risky one because he might do something to you and won’t even remember that he did it afterwards. His unstable character is a wild card with which you must be careful. He can be really charming and a great boyfriend if he wants too. But the moment he’ll start threatening, blackmailing or even lashing out on you is the moment you’ll realize that he has a darker side to him. After taking you with him outside the walls he did understand to some degree that you were scared, trying to see things from your point of view, but also tried to make you see things from his perspective.

Bertholdt Hoover

🧡To be honest, I love Bertholdt and I guess that’s why he’s so extremely softened up. That and I’m a fan of soft Yanderes. Bertholdt is someone who likes staying back, making him a stalker. He’s a bit too timid to approach his darling directly. Being also an obsessive one this gives him the chance to learn everything he can about his darling. He’s like everyone else in this universe a overprotective Yandere, having witnessed incredibly much brutality and violence in his young life. He’s also a delusional one, seeing his darling as the only thing actually worth living and fighting for. A divine being from heaven itself.

🧡He is a lovestruck one, a worshipper and a desperate one. Seeing his darling as a reason to hold out makes him more than just infatuated with them. He would do everything to make his darling happy and not feel so low like he often does about himself. He really wishes that his darling accepts him for who he is and just wants to talk openly about his conflicted emotions and have someone who sincerely loves and supports him.

🧡Bertholdt prefers as mentioned to be a silent protector from the distance and due to this knows very well who his s/o meets up with. And it would be a lie to say that he isn’t jealous. But he also feels like he doesn’t have the right to interrupt their interaction, especially if he can see that his darling is happy. Your happiness is his happiness.

🧡But that also means that your sadness is his sadness and his heart will break if someone makes you sad or upset. He really hates it more than anything if the only person he sees the only person worth living for upset. And that will make him jump over his shadow and teach everyone who dares to harm or make them cry a brutal lesson. Don’t underestimate him just because he’s a bit shy around his s/o. He’s ready to murder for them.

🧡Being very focused on his darling’s happiness he is to some degree aware that this would upset you greatly, making him do everything in his power to avoid this possibility. But just like Reiner he saw himself forced to take them after the scouts found out that he’s a Titan shifter. In that moment he became for the first time selfish with his darling.

🧡Bertholdt is honestly a very selfless Yandere when it comes to you. He would never hurt you and is ready to kill everyone who does. After you finding out that he’s the Colossal Titan he tried everything to make himself appear harmless because you were terrified of him. But the bad thing about him is, despite his utter devotion to you, that he’s addicted, meaning if you ever try to escape or being rescued he’ll have a short breakdown before losing all his shit and demolishing everything and everyone in his way until you’re back in his arms. In this case he’ll show a more selfish side of himself.

[number5theboy]

I wanna hear your material on why five should’ve been the one to pull the trigger!! I kinda agree but I haven’t read the comics-

Anonymous asked: Whats the rant on five pulling the trigger? I havent read the comics but i know he hes the gunman and says 'i never really liked you" or something similar 

A piece of writing that is part rant, part analysis, and part creative writing for the two of you so kind as to drop into my inbox, as well as @mysticmoondustt, @maren-emilie, @waywardd1 and @millartiste, and @poisonpam, whose marriage proposal started all this.

User @sunriseseance brought to my attention that the way I framed this sidelines Allison completely and takes away from her character arc, which was not my intention in writing it, but is something this text communicates anyway. Giving over Allison’s (aka the only black woman in the cast) important story beat over to Five (aka one of the several white boys) without making the effort of keeping Allison just as important to the story was poorly thought-out. I have thus edited and rewritten the following with that in mind.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Five’s Storyline Deserved To Be Properly Tragic or: Why Five Ultimately Causing The Apocalypse in The White Violin Would Have Rounded Out His Arc

     In this mini-essay, I go into detail as to why I think, from a story-telling perspective, Five should have been the one to ultimately cause the apocalypse by intervening with Vanya rather than Allison. The apocalypse is Five’s storyline. It’s his trauma, his pain, and what he has worked towards preventing for forty-five years, and yet, he is almost completely written out of the pivotal events in The White Violin, the Season 1 finale, and has little to no impact on why the apocalypse does happen, in the end. Making Five the one who triggers the apocalypse would make his entire storyline become the proper tragedy it is supposed to be, with him being the last domino to fall into place, his action of disrupting Vanya being what makes her fall, makes her destroy the moon, and makes Five the man who causes what he so desperately wanted to stop. The easiest way to do that would be to give Five Allison’s role of being the one to point that gun at Vanya, but as explained above, that was the original argument of this text, and one that was insensitive and should have had more effort put into. The following rewrite still sees Five firing the gun, but in a different context and with a different lead-up, one where Allison’s moment of mercy and kindness to Vanya comes before Five’s decision to fire the gun, so that Allison’s moment with Vanya and the moment that inadvertently causes the apocalypse are two separate ones rather than a single one. I just really would have loved to see Five and the apocalypse be a self-fulfilling prophecy. One still should keep in mind that this does appropriate a moment that was solely Allison’s in canon and should thus still be taken with a grain of salt. That being said, I do think that it would have made sense for Five to fire the gun that causes the apocalypse. There are so many established points in Five’s storyline that build up to him being the character most relevant and most appropriate to point that gun at the back of Vanya’s head: his ruthlessness in eliminating anyone who stands between him and preventing the apocalypse, the fact that he is the only sibling we’ve seen kill methodically in cold blood, how Five is pragmatic by nature and was ready to sacrifice a single life in exchange for saving billions, his awareness of space and how to use it to his advantage, his tendency to use other people’s weapons to his own advantage, the fact that he is the only sibling Vanya doesn’t resent for their childhood, the fact that he trusts and likes Vanya, that when faced by Luther with the choice between violence and love before, Five chose love… But Five was not the triggerman, and the following, under the cut, explores the ending of an arc that could have been.

     I’m going to start with Vanya’s demise and how the apocalypse happens in the source material. Full disclosure, I still have not read the comics, but I have seen the last few pages of the Apocalypse Suite, and even though my argument as to why Five should have been the triggerman for Vanya in the show is not based on ‘because it was him in the comics’, I still think it’s relevant for the point I’m trying to make. In the Apocalypse Suite, Klaus distracts Vanya as she is playing her violin, and Five takes that moment to go and shoot her in the head. Despite the concert coming to a bad close, it was a little too late, the moon still comes crashing toward Earth, and Five says: “You know something, Vanya…? I never liked you.”. It doesn’t quite stop there, but for the purposes of this mini-essay, that’s enough. What does matter is that the TUA showrunners have this nasty habit of taking bits of the comic and putting them into the show, but usually warped to the point of disrespect, where they simply never looked deep enough into why comic fans liked a moment, and instead just want to ~subvert their expectations~. Here, I think the subversion is not necessarily about the actions, as they are still similar (gun is fired in the vicinity of Vanya’s head, it takes her out, but not enough to prevent the apocalypse) and is instead about the identity of the triggerman. Or rather, triggerwoman.

     In the show, Allison holds that gun to the back of an oblivious Vanya’s head before shifting it to next to her ear, and then pulling the trigger. The sound of the gun going off disrupts Vanya, who faints, but the energy she had been pulling from the soundwaves had to release to somewhere, and it bundles into a beam that shoots up and destroys the moon, giant pieces of which barrel to Earth.

     And it’s a good ending for their arc. It’s the ultimate proof that even at Vanya’s lowest, in a moral sense, literally suspending their brothers in midair and hurting them, Allison still loves her, enough to not hurt her. Allison wants to do right by her, and it shows in its most extreme in this moment. The only thing that bothers me personally about this moment is that the second it showed that it was Allison holding the gun, I knew Vanya would not be harmed, I knew that Allison loved her too much, that Allison had flat-out refused to even consider Luther’s proposal that they should be prepared to stop Vanya by any means necessary. And so I started thinking about which character could make this moment more tense. Who was “with Luther on that one”? Who knows that they “can’t give her a chance to fight back”? Who have we seen to be merciless and cutthroat, who has ruthlessly killed people in cold blood because they stood between him and preventing the apocalypse? Which sibling pointing a gun at the back of Vanya’s head would have actually given the viewer pause and make them consider the possibility that one of the Hargreeves would be hard enough to shoot his own sister in the head?

     It could have gone like this, with several references to Five’s fighting skills that were established beforehand but mysteriously absent during the actual climax. It starts as it does in the show, Luther rallying his brothers to attack and Allison refusing to be part of it. But instead of trying to convince us that Five would be stupid enough to run straight on at Vanya, Five blinks away and disappears. The other three still get caught in Vanya’s energy tentacles, but Allison is not. We see Five appear next to the Commission soldiers he killed when protecting Klaus, swiping one of their guns, showcasing both his spatial awareness and his tendency to use enemy weapon to his advantage, which we saw in both the Istanbul Not Constantinople scene and in him getting the upper hand on the Handler. He blinks away again.

     Cut to Vanya on stage, holding her brothers, fixing them with a merciless and empty gaze. Then there is a small noise on the side of the stage, and Vanya looks over. It’s Allison, one hand behind her back, similar to the Luther and Vanya scene from Season 2, and we see the gun gleaming there, showing that both Allison and Five had the same tactical idea. But Allison is not pointing the gun, because she saw a glimpse of good in this violinist just moment before, when she smiled at her. I’m turn about whether or not Allison should be holding a sign in this. If she would, it’d be interesting for it to read ‘I love you’, even though that’s terribly cliché, it’s also the sentence that made Vanya lash out at Allison in the first place. I like the idea of Vanya seeing it again and the memory of her regret at her action, at the pain she caused someone who only tried to be there for her, to make amends, to support her, to love her, break the façade of the White Violin as she recognises her sister, looks at her, truly sees her. The energy tentacles release her brothers in one swoop, them falling to the floor, exhausted, as the tentacles retreat back into Vanya, but she underestimated her powers.

     There’s too much, the energy slamming back into her, and for a moment, you see Vanya through the mask of the White Violin, scared of the power she holds and doesn’t know how to control. It’s an overload, like it was when she was little, and because nobody ever took the time to teach her how to control it, she doesn’t know how. Allison’s fingers twitch around her gun behind her back, and then her gaze shifts. Five steps behind Vanya and points the gun at the back of her head. And the viewer remembers everything Five has gone through because of the Apocalypse, what he had to become to survive, how he sacrificed everything to come back and stop the end of the world. How ready he was to end the life of an innocent gardener to change the course of history. And here is where a more interesting subversion of the source material would come in. Remember comic!Five saying “You know something, Vanya…? I never liked you.”?

     Because show!Five is established to like Vanya, love her even. She was the first one he told about the apocalypse and that he wants to stop it (Five having that gun would also have made the first season come full circle in an incredibly satisfying way) , the first one he trusted, the sibling he treats with gentleness and kindness even though he is not gentle or kind. Her words brought him comfort for decades in the barren wasteland, and he is the only sibling that she canonically doesn’t resent for how she was treated in their childhood. She had bandaged up his wounds, probably the first time since he left the Academy on that fateful day without saying goodbye that someone touched him carefully, lovingly, and she told him that she hadn’t seen him in a long time and that she didn’t want to lose him again. And now he is faced with the prospect of shooting her in the head to achieve what he worked forty-five years towards.

     And here is the kicker if this would have been the version we got to see in the show: there would have been foreshadowing to this very moment, because it would not have been the first time in the show that Five pointed a gun at a sibling. As Five set to go kill the previously mentioned innocent gardener with his father’s rifle, Luther grabs Delores and dangles her out of the window, giving Five the choice between the literal embodiment of the better half of his mind, the one who thinks beyond, the one created out of love, or the bloodshed he had been trained to solve every problem with. Bluntly put, Luther put him on the spot and made him choose between love and violence.

     Five chose love.

     Over Vanya’s shoulder, Five meets Allison’s eye. And even though she’s terrified of this side of Vanya that makes her pulsate with energy, on the brink of world extinction, she still looks him in the eye, and almost imperceptibly shakes her head, a silent plea to spare Vanya. Because Allison knows what Five has done, she has easily called him a mass murderer before, she knows that he could do it. And so he grips the gun he’s pointing at Vanya just a little tighter, to keep himself from trembling. He moves his arm just a little, bringing the barrel of the gun next to Vanya’s ear, and he pulls the trigger. The gunshot goes off, Vanya’s crumbles to the floor, Allison rushes to her side to catch her. The energy bundles and shoots out, straight into the core of the moon. On stage, Five looks in disbelief at the gun in his hand. He did it. It’s over. And Vanya is still alive.

     And then Klaus’ voice pipes up. “Guys? Do you see that big moonrock coming towards us?”

     And Five looks up. And Five understands, in a second, in a moment. He pulled that trigger, and the world is doomed. His singular act of mercy brought about exactly what he had given up everything to prevent happening.

     As the song that played over Five’s arrival in the apocalypse says: this race is a prophecy. It’s just that nobody told Five that it is a self-fulfilling one.

     I just think it would have been good to give some kind of pay-off to Five’s apocalypse storyline that isn’t him running away from it at the end of the season. I think having him be the one who ultimately brings the apocalypse about through the act of shooting that gun would have rounded out his arc. As I said in the beginning, this is the revised and re-edited version of this, which involves Allison in more of the plot. Her inadvertently causing the apocalypse in the show has no real bearing on her mind or her character past the act of firing the shot, while the same action would have deeply shaken Five to the core, and so I personally think it should have been Five to actually carry out that last action. In this new and improved version, I tried my best to keep Allison’s connection to Vanya, her act of love, and just have Five be the executioner rather than the only one in the scene. It’s not perfect, but it’s an improvement on the very narrow view I had before. I just think Five being a self-fulfilling prophecy would shift the dynamics between him and the Hargreeves in Season 2 interestingly. It would be more justified how harsh and dismissive the Hargreeves are towards Five. It would make his decision to take Vanya back to do right by her even more interesting, as it would be him choosing love over violence again immediately after it failed spectacularly for him, and his and Vanya’s dynamic in Season 2 so much more tense and high-stakes. It was wrong of me to completely strip Allison of any agency in this scenario, and I hope I have done better this time around, while still keeping my conviction that Five inadvertently causing the apocalypse would have been a better culmination of his arc.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

[theclockworkmonk]

Not Just an Airbender

This is probably my favorite fic in my "Aang/Katara Missing Moments" series on AO3.

Trying to make Aang's dilemma more sympathetic and make sense of Katara's change of heart.

Kinda-sorta sequel to Intermission

Summary: Days before Sozin's Comet, Katara tries to reassure Aang about the task he now faces, and he tries to explain to her why he feels he can't go through with it.

Words: 2,460

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

********

Katara peeked her head through the doorway to the balcony again. He hadn't moved since she first checked on him an hour earlier. Still sitting cross-legged in front of the candles, facing out into the moonlit night on Ember Island.

"Is something wrong, Katara?"

His voice made her jump. It wasn't loud, or soft either. He spoke calmly and plainly. She felt foolish, of course he had noticed her, he'd be a pretty poor Avatar if a nervous girl was able to sneak up on him while meditating.

"No, nothing's wrong," Katara said stepping onto the balcony. The breeze coming in off the ocean was warm, but she instinctively shielded herself by crossing her arms anyway, "Sorry if I'm bothering you, Zuko said you needed to figure things out on your own, but I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Out here. On your own."

Aang kept his eyes closed, "You know that you could never bother me. I'm doing…..well, things are what they are."

Katara didn't know what else to say. Her first instinct, as it always was with Aang, was to comfort and reassure him, to do anything to remove the thing that was causing him an ounce of unhappiness. But this wasn't something either of them could just avoid, this was something that had to be done and was so much bigger than them. Katara knew that she understood Aang better than anyone alive, but she had absolutely no idea how to go about convincing her sweet best friend to be more ruthless. If he were capable of being talked into doing this, then he wouldn't be the boy that she understood so much.

Before she could think of a way to fill the tense silence between them, Aang opened his eyes, turned to look at her and did it for her, "I'm sorry, Katara. For snapping at you earlier. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate how much you're all counting on me."

Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Aang, we do not think that you don't appreciate the situation or realize what kind of pressure we're under. It's quite the opposite, not only are you expected to defeat the most powerful firebender in the world, but you're holding yourself to an additional impossible standard. Aang, I have seen you do so many things that I never thought possible, but at the end of the day, even the Avatar is only human. Defeating him is going to be hard enough without protecting him from yourself."

"It's not an impossible standard, Katara, it's a standard that my people have held themselves to for thousands of years. If I do this, I will lose a part of myself that I will never get back. I won't….I won't be the same person anymore."

Katara sat down beside him and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Aang, that might be true if you had any choice. But sometimes we don't. I understand that it's terrifying to consider what crossing that line might do to you, that's why I couldn't bring myself to kill the man who took my mother from me. But that was different. That was revenge against a man who was no longer a threat to anyone, it would have just been about me giving into my own hate."

She shifted even closer to him, as if maybe by touching him she could absorb the pain he was feeling, "You're not taking revenge against the Fire Lord, even though you have more reason than anyone in the world to do so. That's how I know doing this won't make you a worse person. You're always going to be the best person I've ever met. As for being a different person….well, I don't think there's any way to avoid that. You're already not the same boy that I pulled out of that iceberg last year. With each new element, I've watched you master new parts of yourself, and grow into the man you were born to be."

Without thinking about it, she playfully nudged him and winked, "You're certainly more bold now than when I first met you, I know that better than anyone."

Aang's calm demeanor cracked slightly as his cheeks turned red, and Katara could feel her own doing the same, partly out of embarrassment and partly with anger at herself. They still hadn't directly addressed Aang's previous "boldness" and she suddenly realized that right now he probably didn't need a reminder of the last time conviction backfired on him, even if it was due to her own lack of it.

Katara quickly tried to not linger and plow ahead with her point, "And maybe that's what it means for you to truly become the Avatar. Maybe that's what we've been coming to this whole time. You started your life as an airbender, but you're not just an airbender, you're the Avatar too. I don't want to be mean, Aang, but...isn't the Avatar supposed to be loyal to the whole world, not just his native nation?"

Katara had been terrified of getting to this point. It needed to be said, they had been dancing around it, but she was sure he would lash out and ask how she could possibly say something so heartless. But when Aang responded, he didn't sound angry, or even frustrated. He sounded…..tired. Tired, scared, and above all, sad. As if he were grieving a lost love.

"I think it might be different when I am my entire native nation."

He stood up, and leaned with both hands on the railing, hanging his head between his arms. Katara could see his hands trembling as he gripped the wood as if for dear life.

"You're right, Katara. I'm not just an airbender. I'm the last airbender. So if I don't hold to my people's beliefs…...then who will? My people's beliefs….they're all I have left of them."

The front he had put on since the moment she stepped outside started to crack as a sob caught in this throat, "All I have left of Gyatso, and Jinju, and Pasang, and Iio, and Tashi, and all my other friends I knew, and every man, woman, and child I didn't."

He didn't even seem to be talking directly to her at this point. He seemed far away from her, his eyes looking out across time one hundred years, "Every pair of fat, old monks playing Pai Sho, every acolyte crashing his first glider, every group of kids playing airball. As long as I stay the best airbender I can be, then maybe...maybe they're not really gone. But if I actually do this…..if I kill the Fire Lord…..then that's the moment when the Air Nation is truly dead."

He looked up at the moon, as if she might hold an answer, and Katara could see the moonlight reflecting in the tears forming in his eyes. "I'm the Avatar. I'm supposed to maintain the balance of the World. How can I claim to do that after I kill off what's left of one of the Four Nations?"

Katara followed him to the railing and they stood shoulder to shoulder, "You know Aang, sometimes I get furious with myself that I keep doing this."

He was momentarily snapped out of his despair by the amazing girl next to him saying something bad about herself, "What? Doing what? What do you have to feel sorry for?"

"I sometimes forget that you've already gone through more heartbreak than anyone can be expected to endure in a lifetime. You're such a warm and kind person that always sees the best in people that some people might mistake you for downright sheltered. But even close to a year out of the iceberg, you're still just trying to piece back together an entire world that you've lost. After we saw the ruins of the Southern Air Temple, after a few days you managed to regain your sunny disposition, I thought you had moved on already. But I quickly learned….you have to "move on" all over again every single day, don't you?"

Aang had to break his eye contact with her and look at his feet, feeling uncomfortably exposed by someone else explaining him to himself so easily.

"Aang, even after you lost everything you had to fight for, you still fight. You fight and struggle every day to bring hope to a world that, until you came along, had none."

She tilted his chin up to get him to look back into her eyes, "And that is the single bravest thing I've ever seen."

"Puh," Aang let out a sarcastic chuckle and shrugged her off, hard as it was to pass up any chance of physical touch with her, "If I were brave, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have run away, the Fire Nation wouldn't have taken over the world, and I wouldn't be here now choosing whether to be a true Avatar or a true Airbender."

"Aang, it would take a lot more than stopping one monster for you to suddenly not be a true Airbender anymore. You fight for what you believe in harder than anyone I've ever met. The Air Nation way won't just live on in you, it will live on in everyone you've touched. Because that's what you do, Aang. Everywhere you go, you inspire people to be better versions of themselves. To fight for a better world, in any way they can. You inspire me."

She found herself reaching out for his hand and grasping it in both of hers like it was the most precious thing in the world, "I'm not the same person I was a year ago either, you've changed me. If I had never met you, I'd still just be a scared girl hiding my bending at the end of the world."

His eyes softened and he cracked the faintest of smiles that looked both comforted and comforting. She hadn't really solved his problem, he couldn't bring himself to agree with her that the Air Nation way would survive what he now contemplated, but it always made things better to hear Katara say nice things about him, no matter the context.

"That's nonsense and you know it, Katara," said Aang, unharshly and with a slight chuckle, "You were ready to fight even when there was no one around to fight. It was you who inspired the prisoners on that prison ship to rise up. That was the first moment since I saw the ruins of the Southern Temple that I started to truly believe that we might be able to bring back the world that I failed. That was also when I realized that I lo-," he stopped himself, his smile vanished, he slipped his hand out of hers, took a step away and could no longer meet her gaze," when I realized how special you were."

Katara became acutely aware that she was asking him to confront a decision that went against everything central to his very identity, while she couldn't even confront how a boy felt about her, and how she felt about him. There were dozens of times since that night at the theater when she could have told him everything, and despite the fact that it would be literally nothing but positive for everyone involved, she still didn't have the courage to do this simple thing that would make both of them happy. She had been so afraid to open up that door with Aang because that would make the danger so much more real. The idea of losing her best friend terrified her enough, let alone the idea of losing someone she was in love with.

But the more she thought about it, the more she thought Zuko had been right. If, perish the thought, something happened to Aang, her keeping that door closed wouldn't shield her. It would just add the pain of everything left unsaid. And talking with Aang now, she was starting to think that some reassurance about what awaited him once this was all over was just what he needed to get him through what he faced.

She closed the gap between them again and put her hand back on his shoulder, "Aang, I can't give you a reason, but I have faith that you will see this through. And you will do it in the most good way possible, because through everything, you are good. It's as simple as that. And whether that way is by going through with this, or by pulling off yet another miracle to find another way that I can't see, the whole world will know that you did your best."

He still wasn't looking at her, he was back to gazing out into the night air, "Do you really believe that?"

Trying to muster up some courage that she could pass over to him, she closed what little space remained between them, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. The front part of his cheek, not quite on the corner of his mouth, "I know it."

Aang had at the same time about a thousand words and zero words running through his head. This wasn't, technically, a new experience, she had kissed him on the cheek before, but not since….everything happened. All he could do was blurt out the start of new sentences before he could finish them, "What…..But…You…...Do you…"

Katara just smirked, "Like I said, you're not the only one who's grown into a bolder person. We're all just figuring it out as we go along. And I know you will, before this is all over."

She gave his shoulder one last affectionate squeeze before turning around to head back inside, "Now try to get some sleep, you remember how you got the last time you stressed yourself out instead of getting rest."

Aang could still do little more than just blink. After a while, the only thing he could think of was sitting back down in front of the candles and resume meditating. He supposed if Katara had been trying to distract him from facing the Fire Lord, then it definitely worked. He found himself less paralyzed by the upcoming battle, because reconciling his core beliefs with stopping a genocidal monster seemed easy compared to mentally processing that kiss.

After remaining alone on the balcony for some time, he was joined again, this time by someone far less likely to confuse him with romantic affection.

"Hey Momo, I don't suppose you know what I should do."

The lemur's big eyes didn't offer any wisdom, about either puzzle.

"I didn't think so."

[sirensmojo]

“The Moutain With Teeth”, Ivar The Boneless x evil!Reader

Summary: For the first time of his life, Ivar finds better fighter than him, he is about to discover what it is to be under the care of a ruthless leader, just like he used to be.

Warnings: evil!reader, suspense, blood & fluff [e/c= eyes color]

A/N: HALLOWEEN TREAT, I thought I would give you some terror and blood, so why not a creepy bloody reader this time?

Word Count: 2,782

*Masterlist*

A drop crashed into a puddle, creating an echo into yours and his ears, both lift your head and meet each other’s stare. Cold, freezing, electric glares before wrinkles ensue at the corner of your eyes. Even if the rain hit the top of your head and everything around including him, you didn’t blink. What the hell was he doing here? This territory wasn’t his. “Not utterely yours either,” you thought, but the rage inside his pupils shook this idea off of your mind. He was hostile, his knitted brows, and his clenched jaw warned you about his intentions. 

You only had time to glance at his hand, before you heard a crowd yelling and thousands of warriors coming out of the vast forest encircling you. His hand movement was fast and precise, two fingers unfolding to point the sky. A breeze wrapped your face, inviting you to take in a deep breath, after which you opened your lids again, holding tight onto your sword. A flock of hair hid a part of your face, a whirlwind of dirt was dancing in between your two bodies placed only a few steps away. 

His blue eyes didn’t leave your e/c ones. The fight had already begun as soon as your souls met, several minutes prior. Even if you were alone, and he with thousands of men, he didn’t seem relieved, he knew better. A rictus took place at the corner of your lips as you balanced the weight of your body on your knee and your sword to get up. As you did so, your mane pooled down on your face, letting your creepy smile be the only thing visible of you. 

Slowly, you rose your face and soon enough your sword, that clashed against the weapon of one of the numerous enemies surrounding you. They could hear the deep spluttering of the laugh building itself inside your throat, which eventuated in some warriors to step back and glance at each other. Unfortunately for those who threw themselves at you thinking they would beat you without efforts, they encountered the sharp edge of your sword with nothing other than their throats. “A taste of your own medicine!” You screamed in your foreign language. They all stared at the dozens of bodies spread out around you before being distracted by the sound of your naked feet splashing into the pool of blood. 

The Vikings drifted to make you a path to their leader, Ivar The Boneless. The closer you got, the clearer you could hear the murmurs of the merchants you bumped into during your travel to this mountain...

“They call him Ivar The Boneless”, “it seems it’s because he is a cripple”, “no legs”

You remembered their scared faces when talking about this Viking and their quavering tone. Your smile got wider when seven or ten warriors appeared in front of you, hampering your way. Your head tilted as your grip got tighter on your sword. “Leave her” A voice exclaimed, to which the men before you grunted but obey. You intended to achieve your course as the pointy edge of your weapon lug around in the mud. “ Where is your army?” questioned the cripple when you reached his chariot. “I don’t have an army” you managed to speak in his language. When hearing your accent, his eyes squinted. “You’re lying” He dismissed thoughts clouding his mind. You rose your sword in a huff, that was the sign, he knew it. He called for a shield wall as fast as he could but that wasn’t fast enough. What were those forms vanishing behind trees to appear right behind his warriors? Ivar’s eyes wandered from places to places trying to understand what was happening as shrill screams purred in his ears.

*Ivar POV*

A black cloud had darkened the sky as an absence of oxygen made him gasp for air, his lips slightly opened. Even one of his hands desperately searched for his throat. His eyes started to get watery as darkness obfuscated his vision, his muscles refused to respond to the calls of his brain. It was harder and harder to stand still, or was he already on the ground? The Viking couldn’t tell as his face and slowly all his members were swollen. Screams were soon enough replaced by the only sound of blood spurting from human bodies. He felt death seize each and every cell of his weak body when a gushing laugh echoed near his ear? Or so he thought, all of his sense was... absent as if they fell asleep whereas his brain was still conscient and pleading. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a warm feeling filled with flagrance his dying self, electric sparkles slowly arousing different parts of his body as he was now able to identify a mass pressing against his chest. He could swear something was pressing against his lips at the same moment a lightning stroke him to life. He abruptly opened his eyes, his back curling away from the surface he was lying on as if the cold of Niflheim burned his skin. “Stay calm, don’t die, you’re mine now” you murmured only inches away from him. Your round eyes crowning by your fluffy lashes didn’t blink a bit when saying those words. He quickly steps back helped by both his hands dug into the sheets. Sheets? Ivar hassled to look down on his own self only to discover he was placed in a bed, bare chest. A dry chuckle left your mouth, his confused look amused you more than anything. He was too scandalize and lost to say anything, you tilted your head and pout “You’re not so funny anymore, I might just kill you like the others?” you questioned yourself, ignoring his presence. “Killing me?” “Hum-hum,” you nodded. He clenched his jaw and fists, eyes searching for whatever he could use to kill you quickly without making a lot of noise. For that was his plan, killing you. Your eyes drifted from his to his mouth, he was gritting his teeth. “There is no escape, and you can’t beat me, but we can fight if that’ll make you feel any better” you scoffed, proud of having so much power over him. “Where is everybody? And where on earth am I? Huh?” He started to get impatient. “Shhh, you’ll soon have all the answers you were always seeking” your palm fondled his cheek, making him step back further at first. But then he recognizes the feelings which flowed through his being, the lightning that woke him up. At some point, he thought the gods might have helped him, but he opened his eyes to a whole different scenario. Here he was, alive, but half-naked with a woman that seems dangerously sweet, was he a prisoner? Or some type of... war slave? 

He dismissed those thoughts by shaking his head. When he opened his eyes again you weren’t there anymore. He took the sheets off of his legs, his braces were still in place, only his upper body was bare and cleaned. He was trying to figure out what was going on, how did it happen, and a way out.

*Y/n POV*

You were in the hall, discussing the death of the Viking army with your majors when you heard a bunch of thuds in the next room, the room where you placed the only survivor, the one you considered as yours. You rolled your eyes and huffed as you knew exactly what he was trying to do, escape. The long braid that was hanging on your shoulder fell in your back when you got up, as the assembly went silent. All eyes lifted to you and followed as your fine movements lead you to the door, behind floral curtains. As you opened the door, you made sure to reach for one of your knives hidden in the loose sleeve of your white dress, just in case he would try something crazy, which you knew damn well was a possibility. “I will kill you!” He gritted between his teeth, his piercing eyes directly encountered yours as the door violently slams against the wall. Both his arms were firmly holding items of furniture, his back was crooked, compelling him to look at you from under which only increased his rage towards you. Then again, your head was tilted, eyes squinted, analyzing his demeanour. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop your stubborn self right now, you know that?” You spitted your venom with a head movement. “I don’t care! Get me out of here! Don’t you know who I am?” He continues screaming. “My pet. Ivar The Boneless is my pet” you raise your brows. His jaws clenched, fists squeezing the wood. “Don’t look at me that way, did you ever thought of the people you keep after a raid? It’s not like you Vikings, have a good reputation. It is known you are cruel and ruthless, even more, you, Ivar. I can’t even imagine the way your people be towards thralls or frail people that you attack” He stayed silent, swallowing as he realized he wasn’t the oppressor anymore, he was the one being oppressed. His hand let go of their grip as he falls to the ground. He crawled to your feet and with the same rage animating the flame behind his lids, he exclaimed: “I shall not become your pet, nor any type of that thing, let me go, now!” “Or what?” You solemnly replied. “You can express your anger how you want, it will not change the facts, you lost. I won. The only reason you’re alive is that I want you alive” your eyes fluttered as if you were the most innocent woman in the world. This contrast with your temper confused the remaining Viking to his core. His lips opened in a perfect “o” as he tried to figure out a way to scare you, or just to find the right words. What was happening to him? Did the gods left him? what did he do to lose their favours? So many questions were rumbling in his mind as if the vivid memories of his people dying wasn’t a burden enough. 

It’s the freezing heat of your palm on his shoulder that knocked him off this overflow of emotions going on within him. “Come eat with me, please” your suave voice soughed in his ears. Ivar’s face lifts to yours with as much uncomprehension that questioning. Having a yen for being drowned in the sweet scent of your words wasn’t making his decision any easier, “No” he simply mutters. Not quite sure of what he should do. Will you let him be if he disobeyed? “I was simply being courteous. If you refuse to come of your free will, you will be dragged at my table by species you don’t want to know, believe me.” You smiled. His brows knitted but you didn't need to be more explicit for images of what killed his warriors come back to his mind. Seeing his reluctance you scoffed and straightened up. "That's what I thought," you give him your hand that he grabs shyly. Giving the Viking a crutch to be able to walk, you lead the way to the exit.

Back in the hall, all of your majors were at the same place that you left them, it was frightening how inhuman their posture was. If you weren’t you, you would probably be scared, but the years you spend in that mountain by yourself before meeting them made you forget about what fear was and how pain tasted. “You can sit right next to me” you sing to Ivar as yourself took a sit. He didn’t look at the other around the table as he was too mesmerized by your look. As he was focused on escaping, he didn’t pay close attention to you, which he did now. Your long white dress which complimented your angelic side contrasted with the sharp weapons hanging at the tip of your braid. Pointy and sharp weapons that were also found hanging at each one of your ears as earrings. “Y/n, do you still think of letting him live?” Your advisor asked seemingly very concern about your decision. “I am” You nonchalantly answered. The man was about to retort when one of his colleagues pinched his arm as to signify to let go, the scene didn’t slip out of Ivar’s eyes, even if he didn’t understand a thing of what you were speaking he could read the face of those around him while speaking to you, which indicated to him how dangerous you were. 

His eyes fluttered between the nine people sat around the table and their robotic gestures, hesitant was the more accurate word. It was as if they were scared of what you might do next, as if themselves were forced to serve you, unable to beat whatever power you might have. 

Wrinkles appeared at the corner of his eyes when he glimpses at what was on their shoulders, bear fur. One of them even had the impressive head of a bear as a beanie. His fist clenched as he realized not a goddamn thing was reassuring since he opened his eyes, and he started doubting this was reality. It simply couldn't be. He rubbed his eyes when you displayed with one hand, a dish full of meat and appetising vegetables before him, your other one encountered his cheek in a fervent electric discharge. “You must eat, now” you reassuredly purred. 

***

“I don’t need you to do this!” Ivar vigorously asserted. “I wasn’t going to do anything to help you there, I’m here to explain,” you curtly retort, shrugging. The ex Viking king knitted his brows. You sat beside the bathtub he was about to enter. Quite obviously, he refused to take off any of his clothes, which make you swiftly deride. He eventually managed to sit as far as he could from you. “I understand you’re confused by who we are and how did we end the Viking army you once had, but you must understand I mean you no harm presently” you look up to him, round orbs gazing into his pagan soul. “This,” you deftly wave your hand to the pane, showing the heights “is my mountain, my realm, my honour. Everything I own and love was born and buried hither, everybody that puts feet in my land shall pay a fair price” you added, a smirk curling the corner of your lips. His eyes landed on the wood we could glimpse behind the thick pane of the window. He carefully cut across his stare to you, for he well decided not to lose sight of any of your move. A part of him wanted to say it was because he didn’t’ trust you. After all, he was animated by a deep longing to feel your blood splatter on his face, but that wasn't it. Even if he wanted to fight you, he couldn’t control this growing curiosity toward your persona. “Will you pardon me?” you lowly questioned, glancing aside. Ivar noticed the switch in your tone and the emotion that drew on your features, hesitation. He, that from the very start couldn’t read anything out of your face was finally allowed to see you feel. You didn’t seem like a sorceress afflicted with rabies to his eyes anymore. This new side of you made his stomach flutter. Contemplating your red cheeks, he almost sank in your poison. “You slaughtered my every warrior and have taken away from me my freedom...” he hesitated “and sanity” he bitterly confessed, his profile moving to the side. Both of you were looking at the opposite of each other, lost in an overflow of affective disturbances, but you quickly shook those: “I felt it, back on the battlefied, I felt that boundless void inside your chest. It called me there and still does. It’s like an ever-present unsettling background noise, to which you never get used to.” Your fingers encountered your hair in a subdued note. Ivar’s head turned to your side, as he was once again, wind in your web. He muttered: 

“What is the fair price we must pay?” 

As his question echoed in the room made of stone , it was as if a trap was closed behind him. He couldn't turn back now, each of his senses was dedicated to feeling you, perceive the lightest drop of your essence you would gift him. Indeed every human being that set foot on your land was destined to be yours, one way or another. It was your mountain, and she gulped every living being you’d encountered.

Ivar tag: @youbloodymadgenius​

[the-slasher-files]

DIFFERENT PREDATORS - chapter 1

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAVIERA LAH-MO

I am utterly obsessed with my oc Andrei and he just might have finally met his match after 27 years of a brutal life lived. Once I saw @horrorslashergirl oc Xaviera I knew she was going to be Andrei’s perfect battle, a clashing of a wolf and snow leopard waiting to become something more... thank you for all the Andrei support!! Hope you enjoy this paring as much as I do 🔪💕

Chapter 1 from Xaviera’s perspective linked HERE

MASTERLIST

The wolf was on the hunt again. Leading him far away from his motherland and into the Himalayas, a place unfamiliar to him. In dense woods on a mountain side, he hunted, waiting for the prey to come into the large clearing, ice blue eyes were sharp and focused, breathing slow and squeezing his rifle, patients fading. 

The customer didn’t give a reason for the wolf to kill, but he didn’t need it. Just to see the blood ooze from the wounds under the broken bones, the smell of his gunpowder to the copper of the crimson liquid coating his hands as he squeezed, feeling the life drain away between his fingers, and the look, oh the look of prey when he would meet their eyes for one last time before they were gone underneath him. That was enough for the wolf. It was always more than enough. 

The prey followed the trail into the clearing as he knew they would. The snow creaked beneath his boots as he took his spot. Removing the cigarette from his mouth, letting it melt in the snow as he pulled up his half face mask, some sort of wolf and human combination of white teeth displayed on the black background; Becoming the full ruthless wolf he was trained to be, his uncle’s voice in his head “Take the shot”. With a large inhale his grip tightened on the metal in his hands, bearing his canines under the mask as the hair seemed to stand on the back of his neck, beckoning the hunter to survey his environment, watch for other predators lurking within the tress, but the desire for blood was too strong. He was lost in it.

Breathe... Wound the prey... Be grateful for the hunt... And enjoy the thrash of the body beneath you... Breathe

In a deep exhale the wolf took the shot, wounding a man in the knee forcing him down, trailing his blood. Wanting to bask in the odor of the gunpowder and the cracking of the guns release, it was cut short. Another shot rang out from the mountain side and reverberating off the trees of the forest. The wolf perked up with keen trained ears as he ran through the dense snow in protection. Two more cracks of the gun in the winter air sounded, helping him locate the position of the other hunter, higher on the mountain side. 

The gunshots were like home. Ones he knew well. Ones he grew up around. They were from a sniper rifle. 

Could she have found me? It’s been so long... Why now?... Why here?... Amaria...      

Turning his lips into a snarl seeing his prey gone to waste. The wolf moved within the forest quietly and rapidly, chasing his new challenge. Seeing the movement from where the shots had been taken, someone climbing down the ridge, a small prey indeed. He waited in the forest, among the trees. This was a chase he desired too much for guns to get in the way, he needed to feel the pulse beneath his skilled fingers. 

As the prey came closer the wolf saw a woman. Small, blonde with rosy cheeks from the bitter cold wind. “Amaria.” He ripped off his mask, hooking it along his holster. Taking a few steps foreword, huffing and licking his canines she turned to face the beast, icy blue eyes challenging and yet holding him captured within the gaze for a moment. 

This was not his sister, but a different predator. His instincts took over, desire and lust formed a pit in his stomach, as he started the chase. A wolf chasing a rabbit. Fingers twitching at the thrill of potential, claws and teeth bared. 

She was so small... So breakable... One to take home

The prey ran straight back up the ridge, a hard angle for anyone to accomplish but she was fast and agile, perhaps he got the animal wrong; she was more like a snow leopard in these mountains, she was at home here. However, this only added more fuel to the fire of the wolfs heart, wanting to conquer and devour any one that dare challenge him. The little one lost speed and fast as he stalked her. 

Only a few feet away she challenged him again, stopping and turning to the wolf, maybe trying to bargain or pled like he loved the prey to do; but there was something more to her, making him for once, a little unsure of himself. The woman grabbed something from her jacket and spoke confidently “One more step and you’re dead. I don’t suppose you would want a dose of Russell’s Viper venom into your bloodstream. Even if you survive the venom, the effects are life-long term.”   

The man huffed at her arrogance. She didn’t know his past, his training. The wolf moved swiftly and precisely, dodging her darts with ease and grabbing her small wrists in his massive left inked palm. Pinning her against an old pine tree, she tried to struggle against him but the little thing was helpless under the wolf who towered her. She looked up at him through her thick lashes, doe eyes making him want to devour her whole where she stands. Hissing and snarling like a little kitten trying to threaten a wolf, he smirked, canines on display as he moved to stroke her cold soft cheek.   

“Easy little mouse, easy...” Andrei spoke deeply, enjoying this one a bit too much. However the prey’s eyes changed, now wide and scared. Looking up there was a wall of snow coming fast, crushing trees and anything in it’s path. Andrei pushed away trying to claw at something until the snow hit him like a freight train, tossing his large frame like a doll into trees and knocking out the solider.  

-------------------------------------------

Blinking slowly, Andrei opened his ice blue eyes, groaning at the soft light and the pain shooting through his body. Running his hand through his light brown hair he remembered the hunt, the avalanche, the prey. His adrenaline sparked again, army training engraved in his brain over riding any pain. The wolf needed to find out where he was, who saved him, if he was safe. 

Looking around he was in a cottage, warm light coming from the ceiling light. Snow was failing outside and the wind howled at the windows drafting through the old wood. The wolf was in a bed, bandaged and shirtless, weapons removed.

Eyes whipped to the door that opened in front of him, the girl walked in holding a cup of tea, white long hair flowing as she walked. The prey from before, on the mountain side. She was gorgeous and even smaller without the large winter coat weighing her down, it sparked a sense of warmth in his heart but the coldness persisted.

“Why did you save me?” he roughly questioned. The wolf did not care for who she was, he just needed to know why she helped him. What was she after.

“Would you have preferred I let you die under the ice-cold snow and bleed to death?” An American accent no doubt. She was somehow unfazed by him, most people would stare in fear at the shear size of the wolf, and cower when his canines were on display. She did not. It lit some sort of fire within Andrei, so small with no fear. Arrogance or strength, he did not know yet.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” he grumbled and she raised an eyebrow at him, her icy blue eyes matching his own predatory gaze. 

“Are you a poacher?” she asked with her arms crossed over her chest, trying to intimidate the wounded beast laying in bed. The question made him pull his crooked smirk as he rested against the headboard of the bed. 

“A poacher of sorts…you can say dat.” yeah, killing people for money was sort of like poaching. She spoke quickly back not giving him a chance to remember some of his best hunts.  

“If you touch any animal I’m gonna skin your scalp off.” she told him, with no hesitation in her voice, making him raise his scarred brow. Shaking his head a little he grabbed the hot tea from the nightstand; it was shockingly his favorite kind, a deep earl grey; not the Russian blend of course but it was good nonetheless. 

“My hunting is different, little one….Humans are the real monsters. I think that we can agree.” Andrei explained gruffly knowing his past, then sipping the tea.  

“Food is almost ready. I will bring the tray upstairs, since your ankle is twisted I don’t want you stumbling down the stairs and twist your neck too.” And with that she left the room, confidentially and beautifully, like a winter cat truly at home here.

This one was different, a new predator he had never come across before. Much like his sister but softer, and with a different edge incasing her. Fishing in the pockets he found his cigarettes and lighter, pulling them out and lighting one up. Taking a long drag he looked at the snow falling, trapping the wolf inside. 

Sighing Andrei thought ‘What have you just got yourself into wolf’               

[cakers-2000]

~Bungo Stray Dogs: What They’d be like as Boyfriends~

(NONE OF THESE GIFS BELONG TO ME!!!)

Chuuya:

There's only one way to describe your relationship with Chuuya

P R O T E C T I V E

But also very loving

First off you are, in his reality, his 'Princess'

And he is practically your 'knight in shining armor'

He protects you and keeps you safe as you aren't a part of the Port Mafia

He is a Tsundere and no one can change my mind

He had an extremely hard time picking up the courage to ask you out

And it turned out more like:

"You wanna be my girlfriend or whatever?"

You attacked him in a hug two seconds later out of joy. He called you a dumbass

To your friends and family he seems rude but you know he means well

Lord have mercy on anyone's soul who tries to flirt and or hurt you

Anyone who tries to flirt with you gets a rude awakening

He will beat a bitch

And if anyone gets too close to you or makes you uncomfortable he won't hesitate to confront and intimidate them

Even if it means pulling out his gun or knife, he'll do it

If anyone tries to hurt you though he loses complete control

He either murders whoever did it, or he's stopped by someone before he can kill them, there is no in between

He sees you as a precious baby that needs protecting

Honestly it kind of embarrasses you how much he babies you, but you know it's because he loves you

You spend a majority of your time with him as he hardly ever lets you leave his side

So at this point everyone in the Port Mafia knows you're a thing

And everyone knows not to fuck with what's Chuuya's

So most of the time his subordinates and other Executives won't even give you a glance other than to maybe say a quick 'hello' to you

Most of the other Executives will not hesitate to tease him about your relationship though

He does fire back, which has resulted in quite a few good comebacks on his end

Kajii: You've got (Y/N) with you again? Talk about needy Chuuya. You can't even leave your bedroom without your girlfriend with you? Pathetic

Chuuya: *Without even looking up from his paper* At least I have one. When was the last time you talked to a girl? Oh that's right, when that Armed Detective Agency girl kicked the shit out of you. (Okay but the fight between Kajii and Yosano is one of my favorites SHE'S SUCH A STRONG WOMAN I LOVE HER)

God you love him

You two practically share the same room

When it's just you two he's soft and likes to cuddle you as often as possible

You're always stealing his hat or coat so as a way to get back at you, while cuddling he refuses to leave your hair alone no matter how much you struggle or complain

It's now become a habit

The first time you pointed it out to him he refused any such actions but you found him doing it again while he wrote his paperwork, so you left it alone

Honestly he seems really cold on the outside

But in Chuuya's case it's all a facade

He loves you more than he thought he could love someone

You keep him sane, especially in his awful, bloody world

You're special to him and he loves you more than he could ever describe.

Akutagawa:

It's hard for him to develop any feelings towards anyone so when he started to develop some kind of feelings towards you he not only surprised himself but everyone around him

Kouyou was the one who instructed him on how to move forward with his emotions and persuaded him to ask you out.

He was very up front and didn't really ask, it was more like,

"Meet me at the front entrance of the headquarters at 8"

You were confused, but did as he said

The date was the first of many

He makes sure to take you on dates at least a few times a month

He wants you to always remember that he loves and cares about you

Akutagawa isn't afraid of anything, except for the thought of losing you

This is why he's such a try hard

He's scared to lose you because of his incapability to show emotions like love or kindness (though you know that he loves you)

He's scared of losing you to someone else

He's afraid of losing you in general

Because of this fear he hardly ever lets you do anything alone, he wants to be there to protect you

He spends almost all of his free time in your room (he sleeps there too)

100% likes to be cuddled by you (though he'd never admit that)

But when you fall asleep, and he's left alone with his thoughts he'll throw his arms around you and pull you close, a slight smile gracing his lips

He honestly doesn't know how he got lucky enough to be with you

To everyone else he seems cold, ruthless and mean. But you're the only person who gets to see his softer side, and it only makes you fall even harder for him

But yeah he loves you more than you'll ever know as he doesn't know how to tell you how much he truly loves you

Dazai:

Goofy and silly, but it's different then how he is with the agency

He's good at hiding his emotions, but when it comes to you, all of his walls fall

You gave him a reason to continue living and so he's VERY protective of you

He'll put his life before yours if it means you're safe

Doesn't show it on the outside but he can get jealous real fast

And he just kind of lets it eat away at him until you notice and reassure him

Unless of course he's suuuuuper jealous in which case he will definitely lash out at whoever he's jealous of

At home he's a teddy bear

Loves to cuddle with you/be cuddled

Sometimes he'll literally plop down on top of you to snuggle you, regardless of what you're doing

Will dramatically announce his love for you at random times, more often in public because he knows it embarrasses you

You always yell at him for it, but you love him and he knows that so he never stops

All in all he's very loving and goofy and you mean the world to him. You give him the strength and a reason to continue living through life.

Atsushi:

He's very smol and shy

Honestly Kunikida or Dazai probably had to point out your crush on him, and convince him to make a move

He was EXTREMELY nervous when he asked you out

But was very glad when you said yes

He hardly ever has the money for it but loves to spoil you

He 100% will even spend grocery money on gifts for you instead

And of course you chastise him for it

But you still appreciate it cause it shows how much he truly loves and cares about you

He is C L I N G Y

Especially if you're talking to another guy or something like that (which includes his coworkers)

His self esteem will be awful and you'll have to always reassure him that you love him

He'd protect you with his life though

Like if you're ever in danger he'll put his life on the line for yours

He loves you very much and tries to always remind you

At home he's a cuddlebug

Will get you whatever you want/need

Really just treats you like a queen

He loves you with his whole being and your entire relationship reflect those feelings

[venusxxlangdon]

Michael Langdon x reader x Roman Godfrey headcanons

warnings: polyamory, smut, double penetration, oral, edging, mentioning of blood and face fucking, cum eating, daddy kink, soft dominance 

words: 5.2k

A/N: thank you guys for 1.1k followers, here are some hcs for one of my favorite pairings. Some of y’all’s asks have been answered here as well. Honorable mention of @micheallangdons who plotted these hcs with me    

moodboard by @micheallangdons

Before Roman met Michael and Y/N his life as a newly born upir had been nothing but an endless battle with his demonic nature. Days full of self-loathing and helpless attempts to tame his hunger had gone by before he gave up and quenched his thirst for blood, much to his mother’s triumph. She was so proud of him while he felt nothing but utter disgust and a deep abyss in his heart. Her praise seemed nothing but mockery. She could dance on his bones and still preach about her good intentions.

He did not want to admit that she had won the battle. Roman felt like he was falling deeper into the dark void. Was he going to spend the rest of his life like that? Abandoned and scared of hurting everyone he knew? These questions kept him wide awake in the middle of the silver nights and made him drown his sorrows in cognac and cigarette smoke.

He felt like an addict, storming from one bar into another, looking for hookers to feed on and then sending his people to hide the victims’ bodies. Eventually, it all turned into a regular routine and he mastered the art of draining every drop of blood from humans necks without even staining his always perfectly ironed shirts. He decided that if he turned into a stone-cold machine with no feelings and the slightest idea of attachment he would feel better. Having focused on his parents' empire, the Godfrey Institute, he became a business tycoon: ambitions, cunning, manipulating. Unfortunately, it was calm before the storm. His mother always knew what buttons to push to make him snap and lose the strings of control over his ruthless guise.

It was the night when everything went downhill. Blood was hammering in his temples, fingers gripped onto the sterling weel as he was driving to a familiar location, a bar where he was a frequent visitor. A passing car flashed the headlights, illuminating Roman’s jet black eyes. The usual forest green hues with bluish spots were swallowed up by the unbearable hunger. He could feel the roof of his mouth starting to itch, his heart beating faster.

Factitious self-control wafted around his tall figure when he entered the club. He looked out of place dressed in his black dress shirt and matching tailored slacks, the look on his face intense like an upcoming thunder, electrifying in the thick air. 

Something felt different at that time. His nostrils flared, breathing in the mix of expensive alcohol and smoke. He looked around scanning through the crowd of dancing bodies. It felt like hundreds of needles were piercing through the tips of his fingers; he gulped heavily, listening to the sound of crimson blood flowing through the people’s veins. There was something else. Something he could not quite catch. It was seeping through his fingers making it difficult for him to get a hold of it. He turned around on his heels, ignoring a confused look some girl shot at him and froze to his spot. What if his hunger caused these fantom feelings? The sensation became stronger. Godfrey turned his head in the direction of the far left corner of the spacious room. Something about it drew him closer to a big leather sofa where there was someone whom Roman had met before.

“Michael Langdon,” he breathed out, a bit too surprised. It was funny how he had not recognized his vibe immediately. They had met only once but it was something Godfrey would never forget. The blonde Antichrist had the most unique, alluring aura that would suffocate you if you did not know how to handle it. Even for Roman, who was only half-human, it was quite a challenge.

Michael was splayed out on the sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Godfrey mentally rolled his eyes at the Antichrist’s outfit, ever so extravagant: a navy blue velvet dinner jacket paired with a white shirt, his neck adorned with a big burgundy bow made of the finest silk. Long, luscious locks flowed down his shoulders, curling slightly on its end. Two blue sapphires of his eyes were narrowed, studying Roman’s figure curiously. Godfrey would never admit it, but he felt very uncomfortable under Michael’s mischievous gaze. He instinctively wanted to straighten his back to look more confident, to show Langdon who was the boss. But the pretentious smirk ghosting over Michael’s lips indicated that the Antichrist could care less about the boy’s attempt to look powerful.

“Enjoying the evening, Mr. Godfrey?” He took a sip and swiped the tip of his pointed tongue over the corner of his mouth. Michael cocked his eyebrow at Roman, clearly being aware of the upir’s hunger.

“Quite a lot,” Roman sneered and moved his gaze at the girl sitting next to Langdon with her legs that were barely covered with a short dress hooked over his lap. She was looking at Roman through the thick fan of long dark lashes framing her eyes beautifully. There was something detached in the youthful beauty of her blush and a shy smile painting her lips. For some reason Godfrey found himself embarrassed and even looked away, meeting the mocking stare of Michael’s blue eyes.

“Care for a drink?” He asked, swirling the glass in his long fingers, the metal of his rings clicking against the cut. “You look...thirsty.”

Roman gritted his teeth, the sinew on his neck pulsing.

“How sweet that it’s the matter of your concern,” he muttered, still eyeing the girl from the corner of his eyes. She smiled and hid her face in the crook of Michael’s neck, her fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt. She braced one of her slender arms around his neck and brought her face to his ear.

“What was that, kitten?” Roman clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the pet name, suddenly feeling out of place. He looked around, searching for a new victim. He spotted a girl who was sitting alone at the bar and thought that she could be a nice option. Y/N’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.

“He’s the one,” she whispered in Michael’s ear, but it was audible enough for Roman’s hearing to catch it. He snapped his eyes back at her, noticing that she was looking at him again. Whatever she had meant, it was something that did not make Michael happy. He shifted in his seat and put the glass aside on the table.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he asked, the threads of concern lacing into the tone of his voice. He gently took her chin between his thumb and index finger, slightly turning it to the side. “You can have anybody...think twice, sweetheart.”

Roman felt as if he had become an unwilling witness of something he could wish to have never seen. It all felt too intimate. He coughed and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, wondering why he was still standing there. It seemed like the girl’s heavy gaze pinned him to the floor. Michael was frowning, tapping his fingers against the knee impatiently.

“Well, if you excuse me...” Godfrey started awkwardly and shoved his palms into the pockets of his slack, brushing his thumbs over the fabric. The girl was still whispering something into Michael’s ear. He looked so concentrated that for a second Roman thought that Langdon would not even notice if he left. God knew how long he had been standing there like a fool before Langdon finally spoke to him.

“Why don’t you join us, Roman?” He suddenly offered, and the girl giggled, playing with the blonde strand of Michael’s hair. Roman watched her twist the silky locks around her fingers and let them cascade down Langdon’s shoulders. He licked his lips nervously. “I believe I haven’t introduced you to the love of my love yet, and I’m dying to fix this little omission.”

The corners of Roman’s lips twitched in amusement.

“I’m a busy man, Mr. Langdon,” he shrugged, ignoring the fact that Michael had addressed him on the first-name basis. “Hence I’m afraid we won’t have time to discuss the latest gossips.” He noticed the way the girl’s face sulked and how she slightly pushed her bottom lip forward in a pitiful pout. For the reason unknown to him, his heart swelled and suddenly he wanted to do anything to erase the sad expression off her doll face. “But I’ll be more than glad to get introduced to a beautiful lady next to you.”

She smiled and extended her hand to him which he eagerly accepted, slightly squeezing her fingers. Her palm was soft, it felt like his large hands were wrapped in the finest, pearly silk. His whole body jolted up as soon as he touched her. A shiver ran down his spine, and he looked at her with wide eyes. By the devilish sparks in her eyes, he knew she had felt it too.

“Y/N,” She said, and her voice turned out to be much lower than he had expected. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He smiled back and bent forward at the waist to bring his face closer to her hand and leave a quick kiss on her delicate skin.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Roman Godfrey, a CEO of the Godfrey Institute,” he answered proudly.

It was the beginning of something bigger than him, bigger than all of them.

A quick conversation with Langdon and his little pet, that was how Roman referred to the girl in his head, had managed to distract him from his hunger only for a short time. Soon enough he found himself apologizing for having to leave so soon.

He did not waste any time when grabbing the girl he had spotted earlier by the elbow and dragging her out of the club. Luckily she was way too drunk to care. He flashed his best smile at her, and she followed him to the car, giggling every time she stumbled on her heels.

Roman did not pay any attention when she put her hands on his crotch and tried to rub him through the fabric of his slacks, his eyes focused on the road. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress the sudden tremor in his body. He was seconds away from stopping the car and sinking his teeth into the girl’s neck. She smelled like vodka and a subtle hint of her fruity perfume. He turned his head at her and she whimpered at the animalistic gaze of his now onyx eyes.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, and suddenly her face turned into sharp features of Michael Langdon. Roman almost instantly hit the brakes.

“You look thirsty,” Langdon mocked. Thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, thirsty echoed in Roman’s head, and as he pressed his head into the back of his seat, Michael’s face got distorted into a smirking grimace. What the fuck? Beads of sweat covered Godfrey’s forehead.

“Get out!” He yelled and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw a confused face of the girl who had instantly sobered up from his cry. She was looking at him with her big eyes resembling a fish, and at that moment all he wanted her to do was to leave him alone.

“What?” She asked, adjusting the straps of her dress to let him see a full view of her cleavage. He rolled his eyes.

“You heard me,” he hissed. “Get. The fuck. Out.” He did not care if she had to walk alone in the dark.

Roman drove his way home in silence, hungry and frustrated. He slammed the door of his car shut and stormed into a big mansion. Numerous thoughts were buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees. He headed straight to the shower, hoping that it could help him clear his mind.

He was too tired and tense to care about anything but the burning ache in his bones. Roman let out an inhuman cry when the streams of hot water hit his shoulder blades. He wished they could wash every cell of his disgusting being off the face of the earth. He hugged himself and dug his fingers into his skin as if he was going to rip it off. His plump bottom lip was trembling as he let his anger unwind. He didn’t want any of this, any of this life. He hit the wall with the fist and rested his forehead against the cool tile, sobbing brokenly. Fucking hell.

When he finally crawled out of the shower and reached for the towel to wrap it around his hips, he suddenly got glued to the spot. His nostrils flared. The waves of very powerful energy waged over him bringing the feeling of deja vu. His stomach did a flip at the thought that he was not alone in his mansion and what was even worse — his intuition knew the names of the intruders. Roman did not even care to dress up before he left the bathroom and made his way into his bedroom. His heart skipped a beat when he heard two low voices behind the closed door. No, it could not be true. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and turned his wrist to the left, pushing the door open with his hip.

Frankly speaking, now when he thinks about what happened that night, Roman is thankful that he did not kill Langdon and Y/N the second he saw them sitting on his bed. He remembers the shock and confusion. He thought he was hallucinating.

Langdon took his time to explain why they were in his bedroom while Roman was standing before them with his eyes wide open and his whole body unable to move. Y/N had been having the same dream over and over again: she was saving a young man from something she could not explain. The only thing she knew was that they needed to find him. Michael had never been into charity but he was ready to indulge the wish of the love of his life. Little had he known thar eventually she’d come to him and say that the stranger should have become a part of their relationship. Well, that was too much.

Michael did not understand the urge. Possessive by nature, he was not going to share her with anyone. “I’m not a fucking saint,” he shouted in her face while she was looking at him with her eyes full of tears.”And I’m definitely not a fool.” 

They had spent days fighting over that matter until she won. Langdon did not know what exactly made him change his mind: the sadnesses that flooded his lover’s mind and became unbearable for him to handle or the unknown force within himself.

“Let’s see who’s the one needing our help first,” he said through gritted teeth, secretly hoping that Y/N would drop that idea soon enough.

To find out that it was Roman Godfrey being the one in need of help was similar to being punched in the face. When he and Y/N were following the upir on his way home, Langdon tried to do his best to talk her into choosing someone else.

“He’s in pain,” she begged, turning her head at him, “don’t you feel it, Michael? I know you’re aware of how torturous his hunger is.”

“And why should I care?”

“Because I do,” she protectively crossed her arms, “and you care about me. He’s special, Michael. He needs help.”

“Fuck, remind me to ask my father why he chose a fucking angel as my eternal partner,” Langdon rolled his eyes and sped up the car.

He did not believe that any of them would ever turn this into a relationship. He was sure that Y/N would drop the idea as soon as she would see how fucked up Godfrey was. He refused to admit that at that moment jealousy was boiling in every fiber of his body.

When Roman started spitting the curses out, and the subtle hint of doubt sparked in Y/N’s eyes, Michael was celebrating his triumph. However, his content didn’t last. Y/N had this weird talent of persuading people, and eventually, both men fell victims to her charm.

Neither of them knew how to act. Michael couldn’t overcome the feeling of disdain he felt toward the younger boy and he was determined to treat him as such until he would prove that he was worthy of his respect.

On the other hand, Roman didn’t understand why she had to “win” anyone’s trust when it was Langdon and Y/N who had broken into his house and decided to make him “a proud member of their relationship”.

“You two,” he pointed his finger at them, “are fucking insane.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t done anything worse than this,” Michael scoffed, “I’m sure impregnating Letha was far less moral”

Those words nearly brought the entire venture to its end.

Roman realized that he really needed help, Langdon’s help, when the Antichrist had soothed his thirst for blood. Using his magic, Michael subsided Godfrey’s desire to kill and for the first time in what it seemed like forever, the upir could breathe.

Y/N made him believe that his kindhearted human nature was still within him. Of course, it took her months to persuade Roman, but the result was worth it. He desperately wanted to be good. All those sleepless nights he had been punishing himself for his victims were gone, and finally, he found someone who could turn him to the light. Well, technically they had found him.

Funny, how salvation came from the Antichrist and his lover. They moved from Roman treating the affair among the three of them as just sex to a deep, serious commitment.

It took Roman a lot of time to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore. The three of them took care of each other.

The turning point happened when Roman had another breakdown. He had been dealing with his hunger relatively good thanks to Michael and Y/N’s influence, but then he went on a business trip and just snapped. 

He rested his head in his hands, trying to keep breathing, but it felt like the air had suddenly got thicker. He rushed to a small fridge in his hotel room, looking for a bag of blood that he had stored in case of emergency, but the shelves were empty. He growled in frustration, his senses becoming more acute. His thirst, an obsession with blood, always put him in a weird, dizzy state where he could barely control himself. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. A white fog covered his eyes and enveloped his brain like a thick blanket. He couldn’t think straight.

“Heeeeelp!!” A loud, animalistic scream of a man he was holding in his arms, pulled him out of the trance. Godfrey opened his eyes and faced the dreadful look on the poor man’s face. He had no idea who it was and how he ended up there, in a dark alley far from anyone’s eyes. He tossed the man’s body aside like a useless puppet and looked at his hands covered in blood.

“What are you?” He snapped his head at the man who was on his hands and knees, looking terrified. Roman inhaled sharply, his body trembling as if he had a fever.

“You better fucking run,” he managed to bark. Panic rose inside of him like a tsunami, flooding his mind with a bitter aftertaste of fear and despair. He was scared of himself. He instinctively reached for the phone in the back pocket of his jeans and pressed one button of a speed dial. Please, pick up the phone, please, pick up the-

“Yes?” A familiar soothing baritone responded.

“Langdon, please...” Godfrey sobbed, feeling ashamed of his weakness. He fell to his knees against the dirty stone wall and squeezed his eyes tightly, but it didn’t prevent a couple of crystal tears from falling down his sharp cheekbones. “Help me, I’m begging you, Langdon.”

Michael did not need any explanation.

“Think of the place where you are at now,” when he spoke his voice was ringing with ice and calmness. Roman let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll come get you.”

“Okay,” he whispered and concentrated on the scenery he needed Michael to see.

Langdon was there in no time.

Something about Y/N kept Roman glued to her. Maybe this nagging feeling in his chest was aroused by the radiant warmth that surrounded her like a halo. “How does she even handle you, Langdon?” He once teased Michael.

The dynamic between her and the Antichrist was amusing as well. Roman did not like to admit it but he had been fascinated by Michael’s protectiveness over her since that time when he met them at the club. He thought that such a delicate flower as Y/N deserved nothing but the most careful guidance.

“Is she your little girl?” He asked, folding his hands over his chest and watching Y/N make her way toward Langdon and taking her seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around Michael’s shoulder.

“She’s my girl,” the blonde man answered, his palm cupping her bum and gently squeezing through a flimsy fabric of her dress, “but she’s not little. She does need me to take control when we’re intimate, but it’s never about age regression.”

Dominant by nature, Roman wanted to take care of the gorgeous girl, sitting on Michael’s lap, too. He missed the moment when he had started dreaming about her calling him daddy and letting him touch her wherever he wanted. He desired to learn every inch of her body because Michael seemed to had known where to touch, pet, and lick in order to turn her into a pliant mess.

She looked angelic in her pink and white set, her body splayed out on the expensive sheets, hair tossed around her head as Michael worked his tongue between her parted thighs (her panties were pulled aside), making her tug on his blonde locks and moan his name out loud.

“You need to earn the privilege to make her feel this good, puppy,” Langdon said, using the back of his palm to wipe Y/N’s cum off his full, glistening lips, looking extremely pleased with himself.

And Roman did. He was a bit rougher than Michael at times due to his impatience and youthful maximalism which worked perfectly in tandem with Langdon’s soft dominance. Secretly, he thrived off of bossing Roman around and telling him what to do. He loved holding the younger boy by his neck and burying his face between Y/N’s legs, making him feast on her pussy.

“Good boy,” Michael mused, letting go off of his grip. Roman was panting heavily when he pulled away from her throbbing core. He inhaled sharply and his body jolted forward back to her center when Langdon slid his hands down the younger boy’s torso, encouraging him to continue.

Godfrey found himself addicted to this romance. The obvious competition for Y/N’s attention was making his blood boil but it was different from what his hunger had been making him feel. Ardor electrified every sense in his body and made him feel alive.

She indulged his panty kink like nobody else. Y/N always wore the pretties undergarments, and to pull her panties down and off her legs with his teeth was Roman’s favorite thing to do. He loved dragging the lacy piece down while looking her in the eyes, making her watch his every move. She looked the prettiest when lying against Michael’s chest, while the blonde man was playing with her nipples, caressing them with featherlight touches.

Roman often found himself in a reverse position: blindfolded and gagged with her lacy thong. “Keep riding him, doll,” he moaned at Michael’s command and the increased pace of Y/N’s hips moving in sync with his hammering heartbeat.  

Thanks to Michael and his training, Roman became more patient and grew to enjoy edging their girl for hours. He and Michael would have her on her back, hands and legs bound to the bed and with a vibrator pressed against her clit. She looked ethereal, all desperate for his and Langdon’s cocks. The delicious stretch that both cocks made her feel was indescribable. She felt so, so full and worked up, but most importantly — she felt safe and taken care of.

Sometimes, as a part of her punishment, they would not let her cum for days. Prohibited to touch herself, she was suffering from the overwhelming arousal flooding her body. She’d try to clench her thighs, to rub herself against the armrests of Michael’s chair, to hump her pillow, but it seemed like the two men always knew what she was up to. They were always there to hush her and remind that if she continued “acting like a bratty slut” they’d have to extend the period of punishment. Godfrey and Langdon knew what buttons to push. One day when she was on her third day of edging, Roman came up to her when she was washing the dishes and slowly started peppering her neck with kisses. Being impossibly horny, she instantly leaned into his touch, hoping that her punishment was over. He fingered her until she turned into a whimpering, pleading mess, begging his to free his cock that she could feel against her ass from the confines of his slacks and fuck her right there on the kitchen counter. But the upir only laughed and pulled his hand out of her panties, leaving her on the verge of tears, wanting more.

Langdon loved eating her from behind while she was on her knees before Roman and sucking his cock, letting the mix of his precum and her saliva drip down her chin and breasts. She would cup the two mounds in her palms and smear the liquid all over her nipples, twisting and rolling them between her fingers. She could feel Michael’s hair brushing over her thighs every time he brought his mouth to her center to bury his tongue into her heat.

The men loved spoiling their girl. Her closet was full of the most beautiful designer dresses and the prettiest underwear. Roman adored when she put on a little show for them every time they’d buy something for her.

“Sit back and enjoy, daddies,” she’d tell them, and Michael and Roman would wait for her to come out of the bathroom in the new see-through set adorned with ruffles and pearls that matched her angelic personality but also showed off her spicy, devilish side. They nearly choked on their whiskey when she took a couple of elegant strides toward them and bent over to demonstrate how deliciously the sheer fabric of the panties hugged her bum, a purple jewel of a butt plug poking through the lace.

Michael’s blood ritual was something Roman always looked forward to. The first time he witnessed it, the younger boy thought he was going to lose his mind from how erotic it looked. That was when he tasted Langdon’s blood. His silver tongue glided over the Antichrist’s smooth, porcelain skin, leaving burning imprints in its wake. Michael’s chanting in Latin was mixing with the sound of Y/N’s moans and the obscene slapping of  Langdon’s flesh against her thighs. The men’s eyes were as dark as cosmos, illuminated by the light radiating from the candles that were put in a circle around their entwined bodies. There were no green and blue, only dark, deep emptiness of the supernatural creatures.

Michael know what big stress the ritual was for Y/N, thus he always made sure to take care of her afterwards, and Roman was always there to help. They’d carry her upstairs and run her a bath.

Speaking of bathing together, Godfrey loved when she rode him and Michael in the tub. The used a water-based lube, so it would not be uncomfortable for all of them. Plus, doing anal in the tub where everything was nice and clean was a lot easier. Roman adored the view of her breasts bouncing before his face as she kept moving on his length up and down, her wet hair clinging to her face.

Aftercare was the most important thing after making Y/N cum, of course. Especially if sex was rougher than usual. Sometimes the mood would strike for forceful face fucking, slaps across her tender cheeks and a cum shot all over her pretty face, but Roman and Michael always made sure to tell her how good she was for them.

“We’re so proud of you,” Langdon whispered against her cum-stained lips, and she smiled so wide, feeling happy and satisfied with how she had taken him and Roman. Every inch of her body was sore, muscles burned from overstimulation, but the pleasure that had come beforehand was worth it. She could still feel the mix of Michael’s and Roman’s cum seeping out of her, so she indulged the temptation to snake her hand between her legs to collect the pearly essence and lick it all clean.

When it was getting darker the following scene was very common for their mansion: Y/N was curled up on Roman’s lap while he was absentmindedly playing with her hair, threading his fingers through the soft strands. Michael usually worked till his eyes would get tired, so after a while, Godfrey and Y/N came up with an idea of how to get the Antichrist’s attention. Roman wouldn’t take his eyes off the tv as he slowly dragged his palm down her body and rested it on her thigh, his fingers barely swiping over the hem of her pj shorts. She looked up at him and shifted a bit, pressing her body against his torso. Roman toyed with a little bow on her waistband and slightly pulled the ribbon to untie it and slip his fingers under it, frowning when he touched the fabric of her panties. He looked down at her and mouthed “Why are you wearing them?” She shrugged and smiled, her breath was already uneven and heavy. She had to bite her knuckles to suppress a needy whimper threatening to fall from her lips. She wriggled her bum and parted her legs, letting Roman properly touch her. He cupped her pussy in his palm, outstretching the fabric of her already wet panties and shorts, starting to massaging her clit in slow, lazy circles.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Michael said in a sing-song tone, making Y/N nearly jump out of her skin. She looked at him with her eyes wide open and instinctively covered Godfrey’s hand between her thighs with her palm.

“Get back to work, Michael,” Roman mewled, ignoring Y/N’s attempts to close her legs. He smeared her arousal all over her folds, earning a loud gasp from her.

“It’s hard to concentrate when I can fucking smell her,” Michael drawled, gripping on the pen with such force that he nearly broke it.

So yeah, Roman’s plan always worked.

They loved traveling together. Eating fresh croissants in France, tasting every sort of pizza in Italy, buying the best vine in Spain, and walking down the narrow street in Monaco. Even though Roman and Michael were busy they always found time to take their girl, who looked good in white summer dresses, with her skin glowing and lips dripping with juices of ripe fruits, somewhere nice. 

tagging those who expressed their interest in this pairing: @divinelangdon @littledemondani @ms-mead @emmyrosee @mega-combusken @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @michaelsrighthand @hecohansen31 @1-800-bitchcraft @saturngirlz @desidia-1 @langdonsdemon @kaigitana @peachesandfern @livanka @lovelylangdonx

[foodfantasies]

if youre still doing these, some headcanons for blue cheese, soufflé and opera cake with a ma that really likes cuddles/is rather touchy please? need some f l u f f-

Headcanons for Blue Cheese, Soufflé and Opera Cake with a clingy/cuddly MA!

- - - - - -

Blue Cheese

Absolutely loves how clingy and affectionate you are.

Your displays of affection bring him so much happiness!

“Master Attendant, you know, when you hold on to me like this.... my heart sings.”

Will always implore you to hold on or stay close just a little bit longer.

“Just like all other things, I know moments like this can’t last forever. Please, just a little longer... I’d like continue to feel your hand in mine.”

Will reciprocate your affection in gentle ways. Taking your arm in his as you walk, placing a hand on your shoulder, laying his hand over yours.

He loves hugs. If you hug him he will wrap his arms around you and smile, holding tight - he gives amazing hugs and will be perfectly happy just holding you in an embrace for as long as you want to stay.

When he sees you being affectionate with other people or Food Souls, he’s happy if he sees you are happy too. He doesn’t get jealous easily and really just wants to see you smile. He’ll be confident that you’ll be by his side again soon.

- - - - - -

Soufflé:

Very shy and nervous, he’s not accustomed to being touched fondly or gently.

It may take a while for him to recieve your touch without flinching.

“M-Master... Surely I don’t deserve such kindness....”

If you ever lean on him or wrap your arms around him he will freeze up, his heart racing, completely at a loss for what to do.

“Master, why do you want to be close to me like this? I’m worthless, I can’t make you happy....”

Can’t stand being grabbed, or handled roughly or carelessly, so no surprising him with hugs or being too impulsive.

When he finally get used to your touch he will lean in to you very timidly when you initiate contact.

He is the most clingy when he is asleep. If he falls asleep he will snuggle up to you, hold on to your arm or waist, or nuzzle his head into your chest, the crook of your arm, etc.

His favorite thing? When he’s falling asleep and you gently stroke his hair.

When you have become very close (when pledged, for example) he will cling to you always. Will always want to hold your hand or your arm, and will hide behind you when nervous or scared. You will be his go-to for security and comfort.

When he sees you being affectionate with other people or Food Souls, he becomes melancholy and insecure. He will withdraw but watch from a distance, wishing you were with him instead, but telling himself he doesn’t deserve it. He’s very sensitive and prone to jealousy and self-deprecation.

- - - - - -

Soufflé (Dark/Mirror):

Will sometimes emerge if Soufflé starts to feel overwhelmed by your affection or if you startle him.

“Ah, so you frightened that coward away just to see me, did you? You’re really quite ruthless. You need me that much, hmm?”

Loves the attention, and loves teasing and mocking you for it even more.

“Hahaha, look at you, clinging to me like this. You can’t get enough of me, can you, Master?”

Reciprocates with coddling gestures meant to make you feel like his plaything. Petting your head, pinching your cheek, tugging at your clothes and hair, basically toying with you.

“You’re my doll, you know. You’re mine to play with as I please.”

Very likely to take the touching too far and get inappropriate, especially in public.

Might shake you off of him if you’re clinging too much. He’s prone to lashing out and you’ll have to learn to not take it personally.

“Ugh, get off, I’m done with you for now.”

He’ll be ready for your attention again pretty quickly though.

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings, Master? Come here, let’s make up... I know you’ve been missing me.”

When he sees you being affectionate with other people or Food Souls, he becomes aggressive. He will snap at you, pull you off of them and try to keep you apart. Prone to angry jealousy, very possessive and controlling.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You’re mine, doll. You should be touching me.”

Will also pick fights with whomever he saw you giving attention to.

“Get your filthy hands off my doll. You have no right to touch them.”

- - - - - -

Opera Cake:

Since he’s very reserved and detached, he’s going to be pretty stiff and cold at first.

“Master Attendant, why are you holding on to me like this? Do you need something?”

He will get flustered by physical attention in public. If you try, he will shake you off and become distant.

“Master Attendant, if you keep treating me like this people are going to start to talk....”

Hates when you touch his neck or jostle him around too much.

The more he comes to know you and trust you, the more receptive he will become to your attention, but he will probably remain more reserved than other Food Souls.

“Master Attendant, you’re always giving me attention like this... Mm, no, I don’t dislike it. I’m grateful... Thank you.”

He’ll secretly love if you doze off beside him or while leaning against him. He’ll be his most affectionate then, stroking your hair and holding your hand, even moving you to lay across his lap.

He will sometimes invite you to come close to him, it’s his way of letting you know it’s okay for you to be a little clingier than usual.

“Master Attendant, would you like to sit and read with me for a little while? Come, there’s room for you right here....”

When he sees you being affectionate with other people or Food Souls, he will feel some self-doubt. He will place a lot of emotional weight on your physical attention and if he sees you treating everyone the same as you treat him in that regard, he will feel foolish for thinking you thought he was special. He won’t ever say so, but it’ll hurt him.

[vampirrediaries]

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {11}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

——————

{10 years ago}

It was just as she said it would be.

‘The both of you are going to start something that you can never come back from’

Sophie Deveraux’s voice came in like a phantom, the memory eerily echoing in his mind of when he swiftly took her heart. She’d warned him of something exactly like this, and now it was proven. You can’t stop what’s coming.

Klaus would give almost anything to see what exactly was coming for him.

Caroline.

She was the other person, he quickly realised. His Caroline, who hadn’t a horrid bone in her body, who wouldn’t trade her humanity for all the pleasures in the world. The words seemed foreign, as if it were a cruel joke.

It just wasn’t possible. These incessant people must be lying, seeing as they never cared for her in the first place. Not like he did. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe Sophie Deveraux’s grim prediction of the future. Klaus may be ruthless, but he didn’t want hell unleashed on earth.

He only wanted to find Caroline.

“Tell me where she is.”

“Don’t you get it?” Elena stepped in front, visibly exhausted. “Caroline is gone. She left the minute after she had that outburst-”

Elena froze, knowing she had said too much of that matter as the rest of the group stared daggers into her.

It was quite stupid to disclose that to a ruthless Hybrid killer who would kill anyone who hurt his love. Like expected, Klaus immediately stood alert at the ‘outburst’.

“What outburst?” He demanded, approaching the doppelgänger in long strides. “Answer me!”

“Nothing happened that wasn’t justified” Bonnie cut in, clearly scared for Elena’s safety. “She was acting like a different person ever since you left, and that night was the tipping point.”

Damon gave the witch a look as if to say, do you want us to die?. He found it absurd as to how nobody was taking caution on what to say, and judging by Klaus’ expression, he was not wrong.

“If any of you,” He responded venomously. “had anything to do with this, i will assure you meet an end so cruel, the devil will weep.”

“We didn’t do anything!” Elena protested, slowly backing away from the seething hybrid. “We only confronted her about betraying us by being involved with you, and then she had an outburst and ran away.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Klaus spat out venomously. “Seeing as though a vampire only flips the switch when all becomes simply unbearable.”

“But it’s true,” Bonnie intervened “She was changing in a way that i’ve never seen, as if something was almost...corrupting her from the inside.”

“Oh, please” Damon rolled his eyes at Bonnie. “Caroline was only upset she got caught in her little secret. I’m surprised she lasted this long, being the neurotic little vampire she is.”

Rebekah repressed a smile, knowing all too well what was going to happen now. She didn’t care for Caroline much, but how her so-called friends treated her, made her happy with them being in the unforgiving wrath of her brother. They’d deserved this.

Klaus felt himself go completely and utterly full with hot rage.

It was because of them. Caroline’s little group of friends, whom she would die for, that she’d turned her humanity off. That she went through the pain of him leaving her, only to be bombarded with accusations of fake-loyalty and betrayal. Only because she had feelings for him.

Klaus was angry at himself as well, knowing that things would be different had he kept his vow to her. I intend to be your last.

The least he could do now, is get rid of the toxicity from her life.

It happened in a way that they didn’t see coming, in pure Klaus fashion.

He immediately went towards Elena Gilbert, the girl whom everyone loved so dearly, and grabbed ahold of her neck in a deathly grip in a flash. Pulling her hair aside with one fist, he plunged deathly daggers into her carotid artery. The sounds of pure agony and anguish made it all the more worthwhile, making the group go into hysterics as well.

Damon flashed towards them in efforts to save her life, but Klaus merely pushed him away with a free hand. Nobody else dared to go against him, not even Stefan.

Elena helplessly thrashed against the Hybrid, screaming, but he didn’t feel pity. Klaus wanted them to hurt like Caroline hurted. Killing sweet little Elena Gilbert in the most brutal way possible, ensured him of that satisfaction.

He ravenously fed on the doppelgänger until the sweet melody of her heart slowing down filled his ears. It wasn’t long now, till she would be dead. Klaus continued until her heart was merely pumping the very small quantities of blood left in her system, when he was pushed aside by a force much stronger than an oridinary vampire.

“All right, Nik” Kol Mikaelson stood next to the almost-corpse of Elena. “You’ve had your fun.”

“Will you ever mind your bloody business, Kol?” He growled, wiping the blood with the sleeve of his jacket. She lay unconscious on the grass, neck bloody. Damon immediately flashed towards her, a wrist extended. The rest quickly followed suit.

“Not in this situation, brother. Let’s focus on what we came here to do.”

Rebekah wasn’t surprised at all, eyeing her younger brother with a pointed glare. Her relationship with Kol wasn’t as hell bent, almost feeling happy to see him well.

“I’m sure you heard Elijah has already made his way to Mystic Falls,” Klaus spoke lowly. “He disappeared before we arrived.”

“I heard everything from the car,” Kol responded dryly. “We need to find Caroline before he kills her. I wish she hadn’t run off.”

“Why on earth does Elijah want to kill Caroline?” Rebekah intervened impatiently. “The amount of times i’ve bloody asked-”

“Katherine Pierce has died after Nik managed to not follow through on a demand to save her life, and now our brother wants revenge,” Kol hurriedly tried to explain.

“I followed through on that,” Klaus countered angrily. “That witch didn’t-”

Rebekah groaned, cutting him off. “Even in death, that wench manages to make our lives a living hell.”

“Let’s get back on track,” Kol makes his way towards Caroline’s door. “We need something important to her in order to do a tracking spell. Threaten the witch if you have to.”

“I have something of Caroline’s”

Stefan approached the trio in short steps, speaking lowly. He was visibly distressed. “Bonnie is willing to do a spell.”

“You might be of use to me after all, Stefan” Klaus analysed. “It’s a shame your friends aren’t as cooperative.”

“I want to find Caroline just as much as you do,” He replied dryly. “Especially since your brother has a murder plot against her.”

Klaus eyed the group behind Stefan in disgust. They surrounded Elena in worry, who was now fully healed due to Damon’s blood. This didn’t prevent her, however, giving him a terrified expression. Good. Let that memory stay in her mind.

“Right,” Rebekah made her way to Caroline’s door, breaking the lock in an effortless push. “Let’s bloody find Caroline Forbes.”

—————

“You were the last person who i thought i’d see ripping into an innocent bystander.”

Caroline chuckled humourlessly, feeding on a blood bag Katherine had so thoughtfully provided. “I might as well make the most of what no-humanity has to offer. Besides, animal blood is disgusting.”

“Like a true vampire gone rouge,” Katherine murmered from the driver’s seat. “Tell me, cupcake, what brought this on? I’d love to hear that story.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole switch thing. What could’ve possibly happened that even you couldn’t handle?”

Caroline inwardly groaned, knowing that she had to talk about the worst thing she’d ever experienced. Not that she felt anything, but it was...uncomfortable.

She guessed that there were some things that even the switch can’t fully shut off.

“I did something,” Caroline huffed as she tried putting on a cool exterior. “but after they found out about this little thing, they accused me of being un-loyal and betraying them. I lashed out and flashed away.”

“What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter, but what does matter is that I’m here. Emotionless and free to do whatever i want.”

Katherine knew perfectly well what Caroline’s little indiscretion was. She also knew that the vampire was changing, becoming darker and hostile quite like she’d told Klaus in New Orleans. She just wanted to hear the other side of the story.

“Sounds like something Elena would do,” The Petrova huffed. “Tell me, how is my beloved little doppelgänger doing? Is she still as whiny as i remember?”

“Horribly infuriating now that i think about it,” Caroline retorted. “Still playing damsel in distress as always.”

Katherine murmured an insult under her breath. She grinned. Her and Elena’s relationship was always amusing.

“How on earth did you get that freedom anyways?” Caroline questioned curiously. “After 500 years of running, and he gave it to you?”

“Hmm,” Katherine smiled wickedly. “Let’s just say i manipulated a certain Original, and made sure i was fully free from that damn family once and for all.”

“Manipulated?”

The doppelgänger gave her a mischievous side-eyed look. She decided it was best that she didn’t know what exactly Kat had done to earn her freedom. Klaus wasn’t exactly forgiving.

“So,” Caroline tried changing the subject altogether. “Mind telling me where we’re going? Or is that a secret too.”

“We’re going somewhere to unleash our rage and terror. I think we both have way too much of that in ourselves, don’t you?”

She smirked, absolutely loving that idea. “You aren’t telling me the place, are you?”

Katherine only sucked on a blood bag with a free hand, while the other was occupied at the wheel. She said nothing, but had that glint in her eye which told Caroline that wherever they were headed to, would definitely be worth their while.

——————

masterlist

[mandadoration]

hound - vii.

summary: You head to Canto Bight to gather more information about a bounty of yours when you’re ambushed and drugged. Your relationship with Mando is ever confusing.  

word count: 3, 200

pairing: mandalorian x mandalorian!reader

Warnings: non-consensual drug use, swearing, sexually suggestive content, canon-typical violence

a/n: I know I said I wouldn’t update this until next week... But are you complaining? If you follow this story on AO3, you will see that I predict that there will be 14 chapters total!

chapters: i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii  

Read this on AO3

You vaguely remember Mando saying that Canto Bight was nice this time of year, back when you were bleeding all over the floor of the Razor Crest and half delirious. As you fly in, the bright lights of the city almost make your head hurt. You’ve been here once a long time ago, you remember, for an emergency landing that had cost you an arm and a leg just so that you could leave your rented ship overnight. 

It’s a bit of a rough landing about a mile or so away from the city, landing somewhere in an unlit, grassy area, scaring some fathiers away. You head to the back to suit up, Mando trailing after you. 

“We’re looking for someone by the name of Desdre,” he informs. “He was a part of the same intergalactic gang as the bounty. He says he’ll tell us where Jahjon is in exchange for our word that we won’t turn him in.” You tilt your head. It seems suspicious that he was willing to give such precious information in return for safety. There’s no doubt the same thought has crossed his mind. 

“Will we?” you ask. Mando scoffs and slings his rifle over his shoulder and tucks ammo away. 

“We’ll see,” he says curtly, and leaves the ship. You tuck in a few more medshots into your vambrace and check the fuel for your flamethrower and follow him like a shadow. 

--

You don’t feel underdressed, exactly, but in the glitz and glamour of the glitter and expensive fabrics, you and Mando stick out like a sore thumb with your scratched up beskar and arsenal. If Mando is affected by the stares and whispers that follow you, he doesn’t show it. He goes through the alleyways and backstreets of Canto Bight, past the drugged-out spice users and teens using deathsticks, past the couples and trios and straight up orgies on the streets. You’re not quite sure where he’s going, but you stick close to him, warily watching the rooftops. Eventually, he stops at an ornate wooden door, and knocks three times. 

“Who is it?” a singsongy voice calls out. The door swings open to reveal a very scantily dressed man, gold paint rimming his dark eyes, face flushed from drinking and eyes red from spice. He pushes his curly hair up and out of his face, the bangles on his wrist jingling, eyeing you and Mando up and down hungrily. “Oh hello there,” he purrs, and practically lounges against the doorframe. “Mandalorians? What brings you here to my humble abode?” You shift your eyes away from his searching gaze to look beyond him and into the room. Moans and giggles drift into the open air. Did Mando just bring you to drug den?

“We’re looking for Desdre,” Mando answers. “Urgent business.” The man raises a carefully plucked eyebrow and squints his eyes. 

“Like what?” he questions. There are hickies and bruises lining his throat.

“None of your business, that’s for sure,” Mando says, and you think that the man is about to refuse you entry, but his face breaks into a charming smile and motions for you two to come in. 

“Be my guest,” he drawls. He doesn’t move from his position, and forces you and Mando to brush past him, and you grit your teeth as you feel hands feel you up. Judging by the sudden tense shoulders, the same has happened to Mando. The man’s voice leans in close and you do your best to try not flinch from the sudden wave of perfume and musk. His grip on your wrist is hot. “If you and your friend ever decide to come back, not on business, just ask for Pretre, hm?” he whispers, voice low and wanton. You quickly pull yourself away from him, ignoring how he laughs, and follow Mando to the back. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a Mando!” his voice calls out after you. 

The further back into the room you go, the less clothes there are, and the more blissed out the people look. Eventually, you come to an area of the room blocked off by velveteen curtains. You push through it, and wince.

You didn’t think that people wore those gold metal bikinis willingly. 

Still, it’s better than nothing, and your gaze settles on a man, sitting in the center of the pile of blankets and soft pillows, covered by a thin robe, pulling his face from the neck of an attractive Twi’lek whose hands are tangled in his dark hair, and grinning when he sees you and Mando. A few men and women peel themselves off of the floor to prowl around you. It’s hazy in here from smoke and stifling from all the bodies. The lights from outside are barely trickling in, heavy curtains on every window, and your eyes strain to adjust.

“Desdre,” Mando says. You scowl under your helmet as you grab the wrist of someone who was feeling up your leg. 

“Mando!” Desdre crows. He flourishes his arm out. “Come sit! You and your friend- please, relax.” Neither of you move, and Desdre at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Well, can I offer you something to drink? Some spice? Or a girl?” he offers, waggling his eyebrows. 

“We’re not here to waste time,” Mando says. Desdre sighs and gets up, soothing the girls that whine and ruffling the hair of a boy that kisses his calf as he moves to stand in front of you and Mando, pipe dangling in his fingers.

“Always business, Mando, and no play,” he complains in a lilting accent. “Who’s your friend?” He trails a finger up your armor before tapping it a couple of times. “Another Mandalorian?” He takes a deep drag from his pipe and blows sickly sweet smoke in your face. Although your helmet filters out most of it, the smell still makes your head ring. 

“Yes.”

“Hm, interesting,” he hums. He stares intensely at you. 

“Jahjon. You said know where he is?” Mando asks. Desdre nods, and goes back to join his harem, leaning back languidly as they crawl over him again. He teasingly smacks the rear of someone you can’t quite see.

“I do, my friend,” he says. “But remember what I asked for? My safety guaranteed for information.” At that, more people slip in the room past the dividing curtains. You count in your head. There’s seven people in here now, all looking at you like you’re their next meal. 

“You have our word,” Mando says, but Desdre clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“I need to hear it from both of you,” he orders, his piercing gaze looking straight at you. You clench your jaw, and you want to smack the smug grin from his face. “I’ve heard about you, you know? The Dog? Loyal to your master and hunting together. I’ve heard you’re ruthless in the field.” All the heads in the room have turned to look at you in unison, and you would’ve found it unsettling if there wasn’t a cold weight settling in your stomach. “Especially how that poor Gran came back in pieces, body mangled like he’d been bashed in.” He’s playing you, you know it, and you shouldn’t let it affect you, but your temper is uncharacteristically short. “Your bite really is worse than your bark, huh? I wonder what you’re like in bed. If you fuck as brutally as you kill.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Mando finally says frustratedly. He steps forward. “If you won’t help us--”

“You have my word,” you grit out, interrupting Mando. You hate this. You hate how you’ve become notorious and people have started assuming, more bold and daring, pushing your buttons and bending you, expecting you to break. You hate that people have started twisting the facts about you to make you more vicious, more blood-thirsty and unforgiving when that’s not anywhere remotely close to the truth. You don’t know how it’s come to this. You haven’t really even done anything remotely interesting. As far as you’re concerned, you’re nobody. A Mandalore without a clan who doesn’t even know why there are people so curious about you. You think the world is against you, using your moment of weakness where your nightmares have been gnawing at you to try and knock you down, degrading you down to a feral animal. You want to prove them wrong. You’ve bled for Mando to know you're human, and you really don’t want to bleed again.

“And so she speaks,” Desdre says, looking pleasantly surprised, and Mando glances at you. “Mando finally took the muzzle off you?”

But you decide to play the part of that mangy mutt, and bare your teeth.

You don't know what it is that made you do it, what possessed you to make such a rash decision, but you pull the blaster from your holster and point it at Desdre. 

“Jahjon. Where is he?” you demand, voice low and dangerous. The people flocking on either side of Desdre scramble away. 

“Dog,” Mando hisses. “Put that down.” You ignore him and stalk closer, your blaster still carefully trained. Desdre doesn’t even look fazed. He looks at you curiously. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Something’s wrong. Your limbs feel too heavy and the room is spinning. It’s too bright in here, even in low-light. 

“Answer me,” you bark. Your grip wavers, and Desdre smiles. 

“I don’t know.” 

“What?”

Mando walks up to stand close to you and tries to pull your arm back, but you wrench it out his grip, and accidentally fire into the ceiling. 

The room descends into chaos. 

Desdre stumbles back, and his little harem get up, looking alert, drawing their own weapons, and as more people flood into the room, surrounding you, you know what this is. 

Desdre never had the intentions to tell you anything. 

And this was an ambush. 

You fire your blaster a few more times, hitting Desdre in the leg and another shot going through the chest of a half-naked humanoid that you can barely make out from your blurred vision before it’s knocked out of your hand. You lash out, your fist catching the jaw of some other poor soul, sending them flying back and taking two more down with them. Your vambrace shoots out a medshot, knocking the Twi’lek he was kissing before out, and your grappling line tangles around their ankle. Yanking on it, another harem girl stumbles over them. 

A staff knocks you over the head, increasing the ringing that’s building up in your ears. You whip around to see Mando shoot them with his own blaster, their body falling limp at your feet. He’s got blood smeared on his chestplate as he fights around the small room. It’s too cramped and too risky to use his amban rifle, but overall, most of the attackers are already dead or knocked out, too drugged up and sluggish to take down two Mandalorians. A tap on your shoulder distracts you. You turn around, fists raised, but a sharp pain twinges in your neck. It’s Pretre, and the gold paint in around his eyes sparkles as you raise a hand and pull out a syringe. Your chest feels tight as you drop it. It shatters on the ground, red liquid seeping out and soaking into the carpet. 

“I forgot that your helmet filters,” he says. Pretre’s voice sounds slow and deep as the room starts to tilt. “I was wondering why it took so long for this to happen. Luckily I had this. My brother is too incompetent. Ah, well, hindsight, you know?” A smile plays on his lips, and you wonder why you hadn’t seen the resemblance before. A wave of pleasure rides over you, but then it starts dragging you down, making your eyelids heavy.

“You… what?” you ask stupidly. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and fire is dancing across your skin. “What did you…?” Everything’s muffled. He puts a hand on your chest and gives the gentlest of pushes, but it topples you over as you collapse on the ground. He stands over you, a pitying smile on his face, showing the barest of white teeth. You vaguely register Mando’s voice calling out to you, but it’s cut off and there’s more blaster fire. 

“I do hope I didn’t give you too much,” Pretre sighs. He bends down and crouches next to you, running a single finger down the length of your helmet, dragging a finger across your neck, nails digging in. “Oh dear. Maybe just a smidge too much… Just ride it out, and you’ll be fine.” He hooks a finger under your helmet, and you cry out weakly, but you’re arms are too heavy and your mind is too light to stop him. Just as he finds the button to release your helmet, something catches his attention. His head snaps up and he pulls away. “Next time,” he promises, “and my offer still stands.” He leaves you on the floor, and your vision is swimming, the ceiling and tapestries on the wall swirling together as you feel sweat dripping down your neck. Whatever Pretre put in you was making you burn up and feel sickly. You hear panting next to your ear. You turn your head--

-- and there’s a strill snarling in your face. 

You reel back, away from its dripping jowls as it pads closer to you. It bays at your sudden reaction, and more hounds appear, surrounding you as you gasp in shallow breaths and scramble away, tripping over bodies and pillows in your effort to get away. They follow you, eyes red and glowing as they bare their sharp teeth at you. Their claws are tearing up the carpet underneath them. The strills come closer and closer, but your back is already up against the wall, and your blaster is too far out of your reach. The one in the front, the biggest and angriest of the pack, goes right to your face, nose touching your helmet, and you close your eyes and curl into yourself as howling echoes in your ears. 

“Dog!” 

Your head snaps up. The hounds are gone, and Mando is hovering over you. He holds out your blaster for you to take. 

“We have to go,” he says, out of breath as he looks around. “That stupid kid who met us at the door- he took Desdre and left. We have to leave before more come.” You stare at him blankly. Where had the dogs gone? When you look, the carpet in front of you is intact and whole, and there’s no slobber. You slowly reach up to take the blaster, holding it in your hand. You pull yourself up, head swiveling as the howling picks up again. 

“Did you hear that?” you choke out. You wave the blaster wildly as you spin to try and find the source. 

“Hey, calm down--” You jerk back as his hand rests on your shoulder. His voice is loud and booming in your ears. Spots dance in your vision as Mando grabs your hand and tugs you along, through the curtains, through the now-empty room, and into the alley ways of Canto Bight. The lights are bright and sends piercing pains up your head as you stumble along. 

“Mando,” you gasp out. It’s getting harder and harder to keep your feet under you. You think you hear dogs running behind you, but every glance back comes up empty. 

“What?” he grunts, pulling you into another winding backstreet. Bile rises up in your throat with each yank. 

“Mando,” you call out again. There are phantom hands against your throat and you can’t breathe. “Mando.” He finally stops and pulls you into an alcove. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he hisses, and then he takes in you heaving shoulders, your choked out pleas, and hold your head in his hands. He calls your name, your real name, soft and pleading, and that’s when it peaks. 

You faintly register how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you collapse like a puppet with its strings cut, Mando just barely managing to catch you before you can hit your head. But his hands add on to your discomfort as it feels like there are thousands upon thousands of hand pulling, tugging, and scratching you, around your throat and holding your arms and legs down. A panic swells in you and you struggle to get away and push the hands off you. It’s smothering, the suffocation in your lungs and your head making you dizzy. It feels like they’re trying to pry your helmet off, but as you go through the streets of Canto Bight, jostling in someone’s arms, you realize it feels like they’re trying to rip your head from your shoulders and tear you limb from limb.

You think you hear screaming, and as more and more things come into focus, you realize it’s you. You shoot up from your cot, gasping and Mando shushes you and calms you down. You flail around, trying to make sense of things. 

You can breath, finally, as the recycled air of the Razor Crest buzzes over you. And you realize it’s light outside. 

“How long--”

“Just a day,” Mando answers, and he sounds exhausted. You wonder if he stayed up to make sure you were okay. “What happened?”

“Drugged,” you say. “I… I don’t know what it was.”

“You were freaking out,” he starts, “horribly. You were screaming and trying to claw your own skin off, talking about dogs and strills.” He eyes you warily, taking in your hunched stance and bouncing knees. “You wanna talk about it?”

And although you know you should, that those hallucinations are fresh and feels as real as memories, the words die in your throat as you clam up. “I can’t,” you admit. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you, I just--” Mando abruptly stands up. 

“It’s fine,” he says, but his tone is short and you can tell he’s irritated. “I’ve located the last of the bounties. We’ll be there in a few hours.” He leaves to go back up the cockpit and you tamp down the urge to bang your head against the wall. The emotional stalemate is driving you up the wall. You can’t understand why Mando is upset you can’t confide in him when he himself is the most closed off person you’ve ever met. If anything, you’ve given him more than he has. After a moment, you go meet up with him. 

You see a red liquid shimmering in a vial in his pocket. He follows your gaze to see what you’re staring at, and he pulls it out and hands it to you. “Mnemiotic drug,” he says. “Imps used it all the time. That’s what they gave you. Modified, but the base is the same. Hallucinations, raised body temperature, heightened aggression, increased sensitivity. Brain damage in extreme cases.”

“What happened to Pretre and Desdre?” you ask him. He doesn’t need to describe the effects if you’ve lived through them. 

“They got what they deserved,” he says, and leaves it at that. 

--

Hound Tag List: @knockbeforeyouspeak​​ @gothtechie​ @killtherandomness​

[kayteewritessteve]

Love and War - 13/16

Description: In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,190 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all these errors and this story, so there’s that.

“And where exactly do you three think you’re going?”

You gulp as your eyes shift slowly between your siblings before finally flicking back over, landing on the fierce redhead now standing mere feet away from you. Promptly noticing that she’s raised a questioning brow in your direction, probably thanks to your complete and utter silence in this moment.

You sigh defeatedly, knowing there is no way you’ll be able to talk her into looking the other way. She is far too loyal to the King to willing let you waltz out of here without his permission. And you know once the King learns of your little escape plan, regardless of your reasonings, he will most likely be hurt and angered by this.

You’ll be lucky if he even believes your crazy reason for sneaking away in the middle of the night. Going to check out the cave in which you were trapped, fully asleep, and then freed by two strangers now known as your siblings? Yeah, that sounds insane, at best.

You barely even believe it’s real, and you actually trust your siblings. But the King? He has no reason to trust them, nor their words, so why would be even give the farfetched sounding explanation a second thought.

No, you can bet he’d just think you were lying, that you were trying to escape him for good, and just happened to get caught before you could.

“Hmm?” Natasha hums, prompting you to answer her original question as she crosses her arms over her chest.

You give her a pleading look, “I can explain, but you have to hear me out entirely.”

She nods informing you to go on, but doesn’t actually utter a word.

You glance at your siblings, who are just standing silently beside you then take a deep breath and focus your eyes back on Natasha. “So there is a volcano just outside of Triskelion, with a hidden cave located below it.”

“Okay,” Natasha says slowly, her expression neutral and unreadable.

“Oh Gods,” you groan quietly to yourself, shaking your head. She is not going to believe a single word of what you’re about to tell her. You just know it. “Okay, so almost 2 years ago now, Wanda and Pietro were camping near the base of this volcano. Long story short, they witnessed two men—one of which was Sir Brock, entering this hidden cave at the base. So when both men finally left, they went to investigate and found me, asleep in a glass box. They took me away from the cave and spent the next 10 months trying to wake me up. Then a year ago, they finally did.” You shake your head, your words even sounding ridiculous to you in this moment, “I never knew any of this till earlier today. So I wanted to see the cave for myself, I wanted to see it first hand. Maybe,” you falter glancing down, “maybe it will help retrieve my memories. Maybe it will help me figure out who I really am. Where I truly belong,” you whisper the last part.

“Is this true?” She asks, and even though you are intently staring at the ground, you know she isn’t asking you.

“It is,” Wanda and Pietro say in unison.

“And this volcano, it’s located near Triskelion?”

“Yes,” Pietro answers.

A moment goes by in sheer silence, you side eye Wanda questioningly and she only shrugs, unsure. Then you glance up to see Natasha with that far away look and you instantly know she is mind linking someone. As for who, you obviously can’t be sure. But you’re willing to bet it’s most likely the King.

She snaps out of it a moment later, but says nothing. Her face once again unreadable, like usual.

And now you’re panicking, your heart rate picking up as your hands become clammy. You really need her to understand just how important this is to you. You need her to let you do this, you have to do this. “You see, I know I didn’t receive proper permission to leave,” you start, catching her attention as you lock pleading eyes with her once again. “But I only plan to be gone for 2 days, at most. I will come back, I just have to do this. I need to see it for myself. I can’t live not knowing who I am or where I’m from. Please just,” you sigh, “please just try to understand. I will have Wanda and Pietro with me the entire time, we will just go look at the cave then come right back. I promise.”

Natasha finally speaks, though you instantly wish she hadn’t. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly I am, but I can’t allow the 3 of you to leave like this. It isn’t safe for you to venture from the castle without guards, nor to leave the territory at all. The King would be furious if I allowed you to walk away now. If I just turned a blind eye.”

Quiet footsteps begin to echo softly around you, the sound bouncing off the walls. You glance behind you, over your shoulder in the direction they are coming from and see Sam. You furrow your brows and turn back to look at Natasha, who now has a smirk on her lips.

As Sam comes closer you sigh and turn to face him, you have a few things you need to say to him. Preferably sooner rather than later, the guilt of the last interaction you both had, now weighing heavily on your shoulders.

He comes to rest beside Natasha, the silence in the dark hallway is suffocating. He gives you a small hesitant smile, that also looks a little like a frown.

“Sam, I,” you trail off, not even sure what to say to him. A simple apology just won’t suffice here.

“I know,” he steps forward and wraps you in a big bear hug. You tense up for a second, unsure what to do as this action has caught you completely off guard. But then you hug him back, and after a moment you both release from the embrace and each take a step back.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” you sigh deeply. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should have trusted you more. I just,” you shake your head, “I didn’t know what to believe, I was so angry and hurt, and, and confused. I felt like I had been deceived, like I had been betrayed. And I just sort of snapped.” You glance down, “it wasn’t right of me to take that out on you. You weren’t the one who I was angry at, I just was so blinded by my rage that I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out at anyone who stood in my way. So,” you look back up and lock eyes with him, “I apologize to you, Sam. I’m truly sorry for my outburst. Can you—can you ever forgive me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “There is nothing to forgive, Y/N. Look, I get it. If I had been in your place, I may have acted the same way towards you. There was so much you still didn’t know, so many things we all wanted to tell you but just couldn’t. The King had a plan, he had it all worked out in his head,” the corners of his lips droop a little, creating a small frown. “He wanted to be the one to tell you everything, when he knew more, but that snake beat him to it.”

You nod, “I know now that Brock’s words weren’t entirely true. And I heard the Kings side of all of this.” You glance at your siblings beside you, they have both stayed completely silent through this all. “Wanda and Pietro informed me of where they actually found me. And I need to see it, Sam,” you turn back to him, a pleading look in your eyes again. “I can’t go on not knowing who I am.”

He nods, glancing at Natasha, who smirks back at him and then he turns back to you, “alright. Then I guess we should get going before anyone realizes we are gone.”

Your eyes widen at his words, “wha—what do you mean?” You whisper, glad he has Lycan hearing as he might not have heard your words otherwise.

He scoffs, “like we’d let you guys go alone. The King would have our heads if he knew.” But then he chuckles, “and you know how I feel about keeping my head.”

You grin at his words, as you look between the two large Lycans, “so you’re both coming with us then?”

“Yes,” Natasha nods, smirking at you, “I could use an adventure, things have been rather boring here as of late.”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff playfully, getting chuckles out of the two Generals. “This week has been the craziest one of my life so far.” You shake your head, “well, at least out of the parts I can actually remember—“

You are cut off by the sounds of footsteps down near the end of the hall, Natasha and Sam instantly begin ushering the 3 of you towards the, still open, hidden door.

“Time to go,” Natasha whispers quickly, “we might be okay with this plan, but not everyone will see it our way.”

You nod and then the 5 of you promptly head into the tunnels. Sam pulling the wall panel back into place once you are all in, as the soft sound of the locking mechanism clicking into place is heard in the silent space. Then you all slowly begin to make your way through the dark tunnels, glad to have the two Generals with you in this moment, as they both know the way to the iron doors. Saving you the possibility of getting all of you lost along the way.

You find yourself trudging through the dark forest at a reasonable pace. Pietro, Wanda and Sam deep in conversation, as Natasha and yourself stay silent. Walking slightly ahead of the three others, Natasha appears to be extra vigilant, intently listening to your surroundings, possibly trying to hear for anyone nearby. You assume it’s so she can locate them and help you all avoid them, long before they even know you 5 were near.

When you all had reached the iron doors, still inside the tunnels, Sam and Natasha had attempted to brainstorm a way to get by the guards unnoticed. But before they could give that anymore thought, Wanda did the same thing she had the first time. Closed her eyes, focused her mind and a moment later she began to push the doors open, you and Pietro helping as you both knew the drill.

Sam and Natasha had instantly tried to stop you all, but quickly noticed the guards were now in fact gone. No longer standing at their posts by the doors. They both looked slightly taken aback by this development, but said nothing. And once you all had exited the tunnels, shut the doors behind you again, and then ventured into the woods, Sam spoke up.

He’d asked what happened back there, and you just smirked and pointed to Wanda. The latter giggling quietly before she finally explained how she’d done it both times. She’d used her powers to move a few rocks and debris nearby, just enough to catch the guards attention. One would head off to investigate, and once she had led them out of eye shot, she’d move more things in the other direction. Effectively catching the second guards attention and after a moment, he’d also leave to check out the noise. And once they were both out of eye shot, you’d all make your escape.

It was genius really, no one was harmed, but you all got the outcome you needed. And once again, you are slightly jealous of all the amazing things Wanda can do. Whilst instantly reminded how mediocre you truly are. But you are also fully aware just how blessed you truly are to have Wanda by your side. Her and her powers, if it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d still be very much asleep in a cave.

You glance over your shoulder when you hear the quiet laughs of the 3 people you care the most about. Well, 2 you did, though Sam was slowly rising in the ranks of your heart, Natasha as well if you’re being honest. You turn your head to look at the aforementioned and a question burns in your mind.

You can’t decide if you should ask or not, but your curiosity is slowly winning out. However before you can even open your mouth she speaks, “just ask.”

“I’m sorry?” You frown, slightly confused.

“I can hear the wheels in your head turning,” she grins, glancing at you momentarily before focusing on the darkness ahead of you again. “If you want to ask me something, feel free.”

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly correct them, keeping up with her long strides. “Can you actually hear me thinking?” You whisper, before even giving it a second thought. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask originally, but you’re still learning about what Lycans can and can’t do. And the King had said almost the exact same thing to you once before, so maybe they actually can hear your thinking.

She laughs softly, “no, I can’t actually hear it. But I can smell your curiosity. That emotion gives off a very distinct aroma.”

You furrow your brows, “what? You can smell my curiosity? How is that—what does it,” you trail off. Unsure what you’re even asking at the moment. How can they smell that?

“All emotions give off a different smell. They aren’t bad smells, they are just your normal scent heightened in different ways.” She shrugs, “just depends on what emotion you are feeling. And our ability to read the differences.”

“So not all Lycans can smell the changes?”

She shakes her head, “no, it takes years of practise. But comes in handy during interrogations, so most of us,” she pauses for a second then continues, “Generals, have been trained to distinguish the differences. We can also tell when someone is lying, their heart rate picks up and our eyes can notice even the smallest of changes in their demeanour and perspiration.”

You nod slowly, “wow. I had no idea. But yet, now some of the things the King has said to me, make far more sense.”

She laughs softly again, “yes, he is the best, out of all of us, at reading people. Mainly because he’s had extensive training and years of honing the skill and perfecting it. But also because he’s an Alpha, that title heightens his senses immensely.” She glances quickly at you, “he’s actually the one who taught most of us how to properly do it.”

“His title heightens his sense?”

“Yes,” she nods. “When a Lycan fully takes on an Alpha title, it’s like a child becoming an adult overnight. The title causes both them and their wolf to grow larger, stronger, faster, smarter. It’s so they can protect their pack, their people. It helps an Alpha maintain control, and distinguishes them from others. It’s how they can defend their title, their land, and continue to remain in power. Their title demands respect and loyalty, it gives them the power of Will.”

You nod, you knew all about Will but didn’t want to mention that currently. You’d promised Sam to keep your knowledge of that to yourself.

“I’m aware you know about Will,” she smirks at you. “Just between us girls, after your little talk with the King, he called us all into his office and requested he be informed on everything you had been told so far.” She snickers, “Sam obviously had the most to confess to. The King wasn’t too pleased that he’d continued to fill you in, even after he’d been told not to, but it was too late to change that now.”

“Oh no,” you frown, “please tell me he didn’t get into trouble again?”

Natasha shakes her head, “no, the King has always had a soft spot for Sam. He could never actually be mad at him. But Sam did get a light scolding for it, though he didn’t seem all that phased by it after.” She chuckles, “Sam plays innocent, but he knows exactly what he can and can’t get away with. And he happily treads that line as close as he possibly can, though he never actually crosses it. He’s a smart shit,” she laughs quietly.

You giggle, “that sounds like Sam.”

She nods, but then you both fall into a silence again. Though it doesn’t last long, “I know that wasn’t what you’d originally wanted to ask.”

You almost smack your hand to your forehead, having completely forgotten about your original question. “You’re right, it wasn’t. I’d completely forgotten. Basically I just wanted to ask why,” you clear your throat, “why you chose to help me. I mean, you could have told the King of my plans to escape, but you didn’t. And now here we are. I just,” you shake your head, “I just don’t understand why you’re helping me. Isn’t going behind your Alpha’s back unacceptable and punishable in some sort of way?”

She hums in conformation, “it is. But he’d be more angry if Sam and I didn’t join you. If we had sent you back to your rooms, you would have just attempted this again another night, yes?” She glances at you with a quirked brow.

You sigh, nodding your head as you climb over a fallen tree. “Yeah, you have a point.”

She shrugs, “so I just figured it would be a smarter idea to just accompany you guys this time. That way you can get this out of your head and move on from it.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, honestly so thankful she is here, helping you accomplish this.

She just nods and then another silence falls over you both like a blanket. It’s a peaceful quiet though, just hearing the crickets, owls and night time creatures going about their lives around you. The moon is slowly rising, casting a little light on the dark forest floor. You glance around, taking in how truly beautiful this realm is, even in the darkness of night.

“But I’m also here because I’m rather fond of you, and I have this strange urge to help you,” she pipes up quietly, breaking the silence again. “It’s this need to make sure you are happy and feel at home here. And to make sure you have everything you need to do that.”

You snap your head to her, her words catching you completely off guard, “really?”

She chuckles, probably at your shocked voice and wide eyes, “yes, really. I can’t explain it, I know I may not come off as the friendliest person, and usually I’m not. But for some reason I have always had this need to protect you, to make sure you are safe—” She halts both her words and her steps, as her eyes snap forward. She takes a gentle hold of your arm to stop your movements as well, then glances back at the others over her shoulder.

You turn to look back, seeing Sam also on high alert now, while holding your siblings at a stand still. The feeling of being turned around, forcefully yet gently, brings your attention back to Natasha. She locks eyes with you, raising her index finger up in front of her lips as she nods her head towards Sam. You get the message, loud and clear, nodding your head to her then slowly and quietly making your way towards the 3 others.

Once you reach Sam, you turn back to see Natasha is now gone. You hadn’t even heard her leave, she was always like a ghost. You’d never know she was there until she let you know. And the same was clear for your departures, obviously.

The 4 of you stand there in utter silence, Sam having released your siblings arms now. So the 4 of you just quietly watched, waiting for any noise or movement to indicate that Natasha had returned.

And after a few moments, you see her reemerge from the darkness. She looks to someone behind you, you assume Sam, and then she nods. Sam’s light chuckle behind you causes you to realize whatever just happened, was now done. You could all talk again, whatever threat they had noticed had now been handled.

And then you all continue on, picking up where your conversations had left off and heading towards the border to the Kings land, towards Triskelion, and towards the cave that once imprisoned you for Gods knows how long.

You finally arrive at the base of the volcano, the trek here was gruelling at best. Your legs feel as if they are no longer attached to your body, as if you’d left them back in the woods somewhere along the way, and were now just dragging your body limply along the ground.

The walk had been smooth after that near run in with the two Royal Guardsmen. Natasha had informed you that’s what she’d vanished to deal with. They were close to stumbling upon the 5 of you, but being that she is the third in command, she was able to make up an excuse as to why she was out there and send them off in a completely different direction.

You’d all reached the border still hidden under the blanket of night. Which made crossing it surprisingly simple, that and also Wanda and Pietro had been right, the way they’d taken the first time was not guarded at all. And was very much hidden away from view. Sam had made a comment about it, saying, ‘this really needs to be addressed. It shouldn’t be this easy to escape.’ And Natasha had agreed with him, saying she’d talk to Thor about it when you all returned to the castle.

The walk had taken much longer than you’d expected though, as the Generals both thought it best to completely avoid Triskelion. So you had to walk around the entire village, instead of through it like you’d originally planned. Keeping yourselves in the shadows of the outlying forest which surrounded the small town.

You’d all stopped a few times here and there, to rest and eat. But none of you had slept a wink, you aren��t sure why no one else was able to sleep, but you knew you weren’t because you were too nervous, your mind was running in circles about all of this. It couldn’t shut off, you were just too anxious about what laid ahead of you. What you were going to see once you reached the cave, what you were going to remember when you did.

So now you've all finally reached the volcano's base, and it was a little after mid day. Or at least that’s what the others claimed, obviously you still hadn’t learned to Sun Track yet. And you probably never would to be honest.

Pietro point towards the hidden cave entrance, and Natasha told you all to stay put while she checked it out. She wanted to make sure it was safe before any of you entered, so she slipped in between the small opening and a few moments later she reemerged.

Then it was finally time for you all to enter, Natasha went first, followed by Pietro and Wanda, then you and Sam last. You all walked through the dark tunnels for a while, until the tunnel abruptly opened up and you found yourself in a small room, of sorts. It was a cave, but almost looked like it had been chiseled out from the rock. Like it had been built to be a tiny room, a small holding cell. You instantly almost gasp when the realization hits you, no, it had been built to be crypt. Your crypt. The final resting place for you. Or at least that’s what your captors had probably thought.

Your eyes drift around the room slowly and then land on a glass box in the middle. No, a glass coffin, and instantly you froze. It was true, oh Gods, it was true. Yes, you believed Wanda and Pietro, of course you did. But that little voice in the back of your head still doubted this whole thing, still doubted that you’d actually find this place. That it actually existed.

So seeing first hand the glass tomb from which you’d been trapped in, for Gods knows how long, was both eye opening and nerve wracking. Why were you here? Who brought you here, who trapped you here? How did you get here?

You take hesitant steps towards the glass coffin, the 4 others not moving a muscle, not making a sound. They are all just allowing you to experience this moment in utter silence.

You finally reach the edge of the glass coffin, and cautiously reach a hand out to touch it, to feel it, to truly be sure it’s real and not just a figment of your imagination.

Your fingertips hesitantly make contact with its edge, gently grazing the surface of the glass top and your breath hitches, a sharp intake of air directly after that.

It’s real. It’s all real.

But before you can put anyone thought into this moment, into this realization, a darkness rapidly consumes your vision and instantly, your whole world goes black.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@caps-lockdown @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @saturngirlz @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @sister-of-stars @pinkleopardss