#cw: homophobic insult

[emilythezeldafan]

Is It Meant To Be Torture?

CW: Sacrifice. Demon shit. Some pretty gothic horror imagery because I'm in one of my inexplicable moods.

Characters: Edwin Payne, mentioned Estelle Payne (OC), mentioned Eveline Payne (OC of @greysonalexander), Minor Simon (whatever the fuck his last name is)

Edwardian Slang Dictionary: A Glossary of Slang – Edwardian Promenade

Edwin Payne was a strange boy. Anyone would have told you that, except for perhaps his sister, who was even stranger. Younger sister, that was (Hoyden was the word used by most, though she didn't actually know what it meant.). His older sister was estranged, married to a man who tragically did not love her. But wasn't that all women were raised to be for? Sometimes he felt entirely wrong for no reason at all. "I assure you, Estelle, I am perfectly well. You should go to bed." Yes, of course, because a lot of things constituted as 'well', did they not? "You need rest."

"And you do not, I suppose?" the 13 year old huffed, arms crossed in a way that suggested she was attempting to be angry, but couldn't quite accomplish it. The sigh couldn't quite be helped, sometimes it was a wonder she knew him as well as she did. "...I'll read to you." It was a spur of the moment comment, one that simply showcased how well the two knew each other. "Edwin, I am thirteen years old, not a- ...Alice In Wonderland?"

The older boy of three years chuckled, of course she wanted Alice again. "Of course." Huff. She had relented, for now, with the promise that he would read to her. "You are going to find yourself completely off your onion one of these days."

"If that happens, you may gloat."

"Oh, What do you think I am, White Rabbit?"

Now it was the turn of the elder boy to huff, tilting his head in a manner Estelle had only ever witnessed him doing. "I do not see why you insist on that particular moniker." A laugh. A beautiful sound, one only his sister seemed to be capable of making. The two were everything to each other, practically joined at the hip. (She was the only one who ever knew that he...liked boys. He had not even told her, couldn't bring himself to, she simply seemed to know.)

"It simply suits you, dear brother."

That night, the wrong feeling that had persevered the whole day simply grew in strength, as if it knew something the siblings did not. Estelle would have lied if she spoke of it not effecting her. Though, she would later blame herself entirely. "Oh, you can't help that," said the cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." Edwin glanced at his sister, witnessing her to be entirely asleep. A brief smile crossed his features. "Oh, Alice, will your curious mind ever be sated?"

It was late at night when sleep finally overtook the boy. He may have been dreaming, though it became hard to tell. No. Something was wrong. Someone was in the room who should not be there. Hands. Who was touching him? Oh, he could not speak. There was a rag in his mouth, as he discovered undesirably when he made an attempt to shout for the unknown assailant to let him go.

He was being dragged somewhere.

Laid on a rather uncomfortable surface, pinned by many hands so he could not move to free himself, though he tried...Oh, how he tried. Tried to scream. At least do something. Simon's face was lit by the dim torch light, the only source of brightness in the room, it seemed. The terrified boy barely registered the words being spoken. "We offer up..."

"To The Demon Sa'al as a sacrifice."

"What's this book?" Another boy questioned, one standing close to Simon. "I stole it from my brother. Give this little prat a proper scare." Sacrifice? If it were not for the rag obstructing his mouth, he may have emptied his stomach. Still, he struggled and tried to scream. No sound came. Powerless.

You Are Powerless To Stop This.

There were those cruel words again.

He knew what they meant.

Knew. What. They. Meant.

And they were laughing at him.

He wanted to scream, to do anything to stop them, but he was as his mind had so kindly reminded him, powerless. "LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE, LET ME GO!" Was what he wanted to scream, attempted, had his voice not been forcefully stopped from coming out. Curse this feeling. A low growl. God, what possessed the ability to cause such a guttural noise? "What was that!?"

"Did anyone else see that?!!"

The basement had descended into anarchy. The rag had disappeared without disappearing, and in front of him...Oh God, he was going to die. "No. No, Please! Leave me alone, Please!"

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

Edwin Payne had always been a strange boy, but Estelle Payne knew he would not simply disappear without a trace. And without telling her! It was her fault, she was entirely to blame. She had fallen asleep that night. There had been no body, no trace Edwin had ever existed. Her parents informed her his spontaneous disappearance had been ruled an Act Of God. Sickening!

"Something must have occurred...He would not abandon me." She would often speak, refusing to clarify on the matter when the subject of how she was came up in conversation. She wished to speak of being forced to live without the other half of your soul, the one person who simply understood you, though perished the thought as the entire boarding school would have deemed her even more barmy than she already was considered.

"Edwin Payne, where are you?"

Perhaps she would never know.

Perhaps it was for the best.

[graham--folger]

.

[rodolfoparras]

cw: 18+. use of f slur, feminization, top male reader, dom male reader, hate sex, homophobia

Hate sex with a homophobic dude bro who’ll talk big or make a whole scene out of two dudes showing affection for each other yet he’ll be down on his knees pretty puffy lips wrapped around your tip, eyes fluttered shut, moaning around your cock, practically slobbering all over it, but threatening to bite it off whenever you tell him he seems to be enjoying it

Hate sex with a homophobic dude bro who you will have down on all four ass in the air head burried in the pillow practically skewed onto your cock. Despite his wails and whines and the way he’s continuously clenching down on your cock, he’ll refuse to admit how good this feels, hurling insults telling you how disgusting this is how he’s not a faggot, telling you how he doesn’t even know why he’s here since you can’t even fuck him properly purposely riling you up so you’ll fuck him harder

Hate sex with a homophobic dude bro who will have his cock weeping between his thighs, pretty little hole clenching around nothing , eager for you to fuck him yet he’ll refuse to do any work since he is not a faggot like you, so you’ll have to fuck him back on your cock fingers digging into his hips or cheeks and working him up and down your dick

Hate sex with a homophobic dude bro who pretends to hate even the thought of you but can’t get off without thinking about you having him down on all four, calling him princess and complimenting his pretty hole, or thoughts of you telling him how this pussy is all yours, how much he needs your cock

[pastelclovds]

cw: f slur (i blame @rodolfoparras)

thinking about a homophobic misogynist man who just can’t get off like how he used to before he met you. no matter how times he fists his cock, is balls deep into some random women; none of it mattered. it was never enough, he was never satisfied. but when he thinks about his last “session” with you… he’s throbbing and rock hard within seconds (aww is that pre cum on the tip?) he tries to brush it off as nothing more than a little meeting between guys, he’s not a fag and he’ll never will be. his actions speak other wise but he’s way too narcissistic and delusional to see his contradiction.

he’s in too deep in his fantasy to hear himself whining and moaning like a bitch as he fucks into the tight hole of his hand. his eyes brimmed with tears as he recalled you holding his legs against his chest as your fat cock drilled into his sore hole, your pelvis slapping lewdly against his ass. he called you every insult in the book, but you didn’t care. in fact, his bitching made you pound into him harder.

he spat on his pointer and middle finger and slid a shaky hand down to his hole. it twitched and clenched around nothing, he felt so empty. he forces his two fingers inside him to the knuckle, if there was a heaven, he just saw it. as the fantasy continued, he only got more desperate. he bucked into his fist like a mutt in heat as his fingers thrust in and out of his tight heat. his pillows are drowning in drool at this point.

you call him your pretty princess, whose pussy was made to take your dick. your digits wrapped themselves around his throat, his adam’s apple bopping under your palm. taking in as much air as he could before you took it with the thunderous pace of your hips.

he never wished for a third arm more in his life. before long, he let out a pathetic, little, tiny sigh of “daddy” as he came all over his hand and belly. he lays on his soaked sheets absolutely exhausted. his first good nut in ages. he thinks about you again, and remembers he has a huge cucumber in his fridge he was about to blend into his work out smoothie.

his cock is leaking pre instantly.

[yanderefarm]

yandere mad king introduction

same kinda vibe as before!! just letting you know more about him before I make part two!! i also have another request in my inbox for him. and yes he does have a boob window. and no I can't draw boobs

cw; violence, violence towards animals, nsft, yandere tendencies, manipulation, rough sex

Emil is called the mad king because he claimed the throne by killing his father and all his supporters. It wasn't out of malice but duty to his people but he doesn't mind people thinking poorly of him if it means they don't bother him.

He decided to marry your sister because of growing concern for the movements of your neighboring kingdom. He didn't actually care about her until she started to reject him so firmly.

He just likes things that are interesting. It was interesting that she was willing to let everyone die rather than be with him but its more interesting that you're willing to kill to keep them all safe.

He's bisexual, doesn't actually care if it's a man or woman he marries as long as they don't bore him. Of course the noblemen of his empire have more to say about this topic.

He'll probably kill them if they start acting homophobic towards you. His love for you is one thing but he also doesn't want anyone who's going to insult his decisions.

Once you get more comfortable with him he'll try to avoid you seeing any bloodshed or pain. Even if he had to execute his whole court he'd never let you witness it.

He's willing to be kind if you ask him cutely. He'd feel such a rush if you clung to him and begged for someone's life. That doesn't necessarily grant them mercy but it might give them a little more time.

If you're bigger than him and you act cute and pathetic its even more exciting. He loves the feeling of your larger body holding him and acting like he's your shield from anything you don't like.

If you're smaller than him it's cute too. He likes you sitting in his lap, head hidden in his chest too afraid to look.

If you're not scared, if you get a taste for the bloodshed that's interesting too. He'd love to guide your hands on his sword doing his dirty work.

If you show your stubborn side like your sister's he finds it fun. He likes to push you as far as he can. What can he do to get you to snap again? How far is too far?

Don't be stubborn until you're sure your family is safe though. Really don't want him to get his guillotine out again.

Speaking of!! Your family is/was made of 8 people. Your father is Elio and your mother is Estelle. Your eldest brother is Philip who is about 5 years older than you, then your sister Eliza who is only about 2 years older than you, then you, then after you is Isabella who is 15, your youngest brother is Anthony and he's 12, and finally the youngest child is Maria at 6.

If you're not like all into the fantasy of an entire royal family who isn't your actual real world family feel free to imagine it in an isekai way. I almost wrote it that way but decided it was a little too much. (Also if you don't mention where I got some of the names you get a cookie.)

Back to Emil. He will threaten your family up to and including the day of your wedding. He doesn't want you to back out last minute so until he slides that ring on your finger the knife is at their throats.

After your marriage is official he'll follow you around the castle sometimes. He'll watch you in the garden or stalk you through the halls. He ignores his work just to watch you read in the library.

He'll also adorn you with gifts if you want. You do have to give him the idea first. Either just asking him for something you like or slipping the hint to one of his close assistants.

It's not hard to guess he didn't have the happiest childhood so he doesn't really understand the idea of gifts or romance. He's just as likely to gift you a dead rat as he is a gold necklace if simply given the instructions to give something.

So yeah he's also not romantic. He's sweet don't get it twisted, he'd be kind and loving to you. He would adore you. But he's never been on a date and doesn't know how romance works.

You might never know how he attempted to court your sister but it might have been the reason for her stubbornness.

Still once he gets the hang of it he'll show his truest yandere tendency. Being a massive simp. Gifts, dates, touching, anything you tell him you like you'll get ten fold.

Honestly even if you didn't personally teach him what to do he'd probably just do disturbing versions of romance towards you. Dead rat gifts, poisoning your maids, chocolates full of razorblades, giving you your dead sister's head, messed up things.

He doesn't like being in pain but once he's in deep all you have to do is tell him to suffer and he would. You'd probably have to wait a few years into your marriage for that though. Butter him up first before you ask him to eat glass.

nsfw time!!

Just like romance he is a bit clueless about sex. If god (aka me) ever let him top he would cum first and then roll over and go to bed leaving you unsatisfied.

On your wedding night the maids will dress you both up in intimate garments and leave you to it. You don't have to sleep together then but if you decide to because he looks so pretty he'll let you use him however you want.

He'll be overly accommodating the first time you do it regardless of when. He needs to know what exactly you're doing before he starts to get more freaky with it.

The first time is so mind blowing for him. He didn't realize he could feel that good, he gets hearts in his eyes as he begs for more.

His favorite position is cowgirl or a mating press. He loves riding you and he's a total power bottom but his breeding kink trumps all.

His breeding kink is intense. It doesn't matter if you bring up breeding him first or not because his body knows it needs to be bred. He knows sex is for procreation and that's all he wants.

He begs for your babies, he begs to be a daddy. He doesn't like for you to waste a single drop of cum outside of his body. How could you waste it when he wants you to get him pregnant so badly?

If you jerk off alone, cum early during foreplay, or just try not to cum inside of him it doesn't matter. He'll scoop up any cum and either push it inside of him or suck it off his fingers.

He'll sneak into your room and steal your dirty underwear or dirty tissues to smell and lick clean. He knows it's a bit gross but he loves your smell and taste.

He could be ftm or cis it doesn't really matter because his behavior is the same.

He'd be down to get kinky too. Like previously stated he doesn't like pain but he would absolutely love it if you tried to hurt him during sex.

You can spit on him, choke him, slap him, scratch him, anything you want. He might pretend he'll fight back but he won't.

If you try to hurt him without proper warning he'd probably actually fight back at least a little bit. At a certain point he'd just trust you not to hurt him but it takes a while.

His absolute favorite is your dick buried balls deep inside of him and your hands tight around your neck. If you mating pressed him while you choked him he'd be putty in your hands. Tell him he can breathe when you cum and he'll cum so hard.

He doesn't hate soft vanilla sex either. Sometimes its really nice to be treated gently and adored. Run your hands over his scars and tell him he's pretty.

Call him your pretty princess and rub his stomach. Say he'd be a good daddy or mommy it doesn't matter which.

He'd probably cry if you did nothing but adore him. Overstimulate him for hours telling him how good he is and how he's so pretty and he'll sob.

Hell he'd probably start apologizing and begging for you to hate him for being such a horrible person. He's never known so much love as when he's with you.

After you're done either adoring him or breaking him he'd force you to cuddle him. Keep yourself buried inside him and hold him gently. You can play with his hair or kiss his bruises just as long as you stay with him.

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.3 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader) , Part 2

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

.

NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

.

.

The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

.

.

“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

[planetception]

could u write headcanons for nika as a protective gf?

-🦀

Protective Girlfriend Nika - Headcannons

cw: mentions of fighting, just a very protective nika

an: thanks for the request. i hope you enjoy this one and i hope that it fulfills your expectations. also first emoji anon?

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

༊*·˚ it all started when you were getting hit on by some guy in a bar after the team and you went out

༊*·˚ he tried flirting with you and although you told him that you were happily dating someone, he still was adamant on being a creep

༊*·˚ nika was standing next to paige ordering a few drinks when she saw the guy being really weird, she told paige she would be right back and she sauntered over to where you were sitting

༊*·˚ i can imagine it to happen like this, nika would come up to you and wrap her arm around her neck as she told the guy off "she said she wasn't interested dickhead, get lost" to which the guy made a disgusting comment back to her, "that's your girlfriend? damn i'm fine with you both. two lesbians? that's pretty fuckin hot"

༊*·˚ that's when nika lost her cool and swung at the guy, striking him right in the face. she scoffed as he got up and ran away to which she yelled at him, calling him a pussy

༊*·˚ from then on she became very protective of you

༊*·˚ will never let you out of her sight at bars so another one of those incidents will not happen again

༊*·˚ when she posts you on her instagram and someone insults you, she will reply back in an instant, insulting them right back

༊*·˚ one time nika posted you for your anniversary and someone was all up in the comments being a homophobic prick, you best bet nika replied and called them a dickhead then blocked them

༊*·˚ someone once called you a bitch while you and nika were walking together hand in hand, she turned around and said to them "say that again?" and dude ran away like a coward

༊*·˚ some weird guy ogling you in a class that you share with nika? yeah she's giving you a big fat kiss on the lips as she smirks at the guy

༊*·˚ some girl asking to dance with you at a bar while nikas arm is clearly wrapped around your waist? she will tell her to fuck off then give you a kiss to get the message across

༊*·˚ constantly working out to get that physique that you love so much so she can beat a bitch up if they disrespect her girlfriend in anyway shape or form

༊*·˚ is not afraid to get into fights to protect you at all

༊*·˚ you make sure to clean up any of her cuts and bruises that she got from fighting

༊*·˚you always tell her that fighting people in the sake of her girlfriend isn't needed, to which she calls you princess and tells you that she will always protect you no matter what

༊*·˚ we stan a protective girlfriend here

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

two posts in one day wow! anyways i hope you enjoy this and let me know your thoughts on this. also welcome to the family crab anon!

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Tumblr won't let me share the audio clip of Misha answering the last question from Crossroads, so here's a transcript.

[Fan] Um, it's kind of about Destiel so - [Misha] Perfect last question really

[Fan]So there's a show called 911 and - It's about firefighters and it's been going on for about seven seasons now. And recently in seven seasons it moved networks from Fox to ABC. And um, one of the main characters, he's a man named Buck and- he kissed another man and it's been said that by the actor who plays Buck on the previous network Fox, they wouldn't have been able to do that. So when they moved, they thought, okay, we can do it now because it's on a different network. So my question is, do you think if Supernatural had a new networks earlier on, or if the show was made later something like this could have happened between Dean and Cas? [Misha] If think that if the CW- [Fan 2] Fuck them! [Misha] had not been- Had not been so homophobic- [Audience cheers] [Misha] Dean and Cas would have been balls deep. [Audience cheers] [Rob] I think you just made a headline. [Audience cheers and laughs]

[Misha] I will tell you- I will answer that question um- in- in part earnest. I, I think that there's been a sea change in culture um broadly. When I joined Supernatural and- and- Destiel became this very like hush-hush thing on the internet that we weren't even supposed to talk about. Um, there was no way on God's green earth that anything like it, uh, a consummation of that kind of relationship would make it to the screen on our show. And by the end of the series, we had lasted for so long that the culture had changed and there had become an acceptance of the possibility that that kind of, like, Declaration of Love could happen. Um, I- I- I mean... When I was growing up, um, we used the word f*g as a filler all the time. It was like, just want to insult one another, and f*g, homo, like, that's what everyone was saying in elementary school. My kids see two dads or two moms dropping their peers off at school and it does not faze them at all. And there's none of that language in their schools. Now, I know that [Audience claps and I can't understand a few words due to clapping] we're decades away from eliminating homophobia in our society. But we've come so far and so I think the answer to your question is, yes, like had to show happened later on and had another 10 years to evolve who- who knows what could've happened. Um, I think that there would have been a lot more representation on the show, in general. We would have had more female directors. We would have had more female leads on the show. We would have had more people of color. A lot of things would have been different on the show, um, if it had just been 10 years later. Um, and there- and of course, like you know, the pendulum always swings. There's always a reaction to Evolution and, you know, in our country, we have the far right emerging and Neo-Nazis like, honestly taking, you know, like, seats of power and potentially, you know, for a second time, the presidency. It's- It's a pretty scary time.

[Rob] Book burning happening, you know? [Misha] What's that? [Rob] And book burning happening. [Misha] Yeah [Rob] You know, watching the show too- watching the rewatch podcast that I do with Rich, like- [Cheers] You see how much things have changed. There are certain things in the show where like, oh, then you wouldn't do that now. You know? [Rob] Like they use the word bitch all the time in the show and it's like- eugh- a little cringy, right? You know. [Misha] Yeah. Um, a lot of- there were a lot of things that we did that I don't think would stand the test of time at all now. But, um, we try to be better. [Rob] Also, I would just say, like, one thing I love about these rooms that this- this, um, family that we're here, in the Supernatural family, is like everybody is welcome and everybody's okay whoever you are, whatever you are, however you are- like, it's this is a safe space.

ETA: so it turns out that the enforcement at Starfury is different than the rules at jibcon or CE and I will not be sharing the audio clip. Jibcon officially has a no recording rule, which almost everyone in fandom ignores. Starfury is different.

[jeridandridge]

For Lovers At Night conclusion

A conversation with Joe takes place and you evaluate your relationship with Melissa. CW: Homophobic slur, brief violence. No editing. We write and post like affection starved bitches.

“Oh for fucks sake.” You roll your eyes tossing a black trash bag in the dumpster. You truly didn’t have time to deal with a fake macho, butthurt man.

Joe gets closer and comes up standing now a few feet away.

“You the one that’s been fucking my wife?”

There is a hint of anger in his voice, but watching vigilantly you see his hands flat in his pockets, nothing to be hidden there.

“Well bud, someone has to.” You shrug mirroring his stance not shying away from making direct eye contact. Looking at him you suppose you could see hints of a once good looking man. He still had some muscle but it was evident the years of drinking were catching up with him if the beer gut and puffy cheeks were any indication. “I’m really not in the mood for this so can you get off my property?”

“You got some set of balls you know that?” Joe scoffs. “What’s a young girl like you wanting a woman Melissa’s age anyway?”

Cocking your head to the side you size the man up, quirking a brow. “I’m not blind or stupid, so I can see what an amazing person she is and I know how to treat her right.”

“Hey, I know how to treat a woman.” He steps forward towards you.

“Yeah? Then why cheat on a woman to fuck around with girls that could be your kid, huh?” You challenge.

“It ain’t my fault she wouldn’t put out. I shoulda known she was a dyke a long time ago.”

You can’t help but laugh. Looking at the guy in front of you, you see not a man but a toddler throwing a tantrum over a toy he doesn’t get to play with anymore. This Joe doesn’t like.

“The fuck are you laughing at?” He lets out getting right in your face. Not phased by the closeness and possible danger, you tip your chin up as you lift your hands pushing him back by his shoulders. Not paying attention to anything else around you, you dont see Melissa’s truck pull up or hear the door slam.

Getting out of her truck Melissa rushes over bumping into people along the sidewalk to get to you worried you’ll be hurt.

“Back the fuck up before you get hurt, little man.”

Joe all but growls getting in your space again, bloodshot eyes meeting your own.

“You can have her, hot shot. She’s useless dead weight now that I got her good years. Maybe she can help you clean up this dump after it burns down.”

“Hey!” Melissa calls out getting to you just as you take a swing.

Adrenalin running through you at the sound of his insults and threat you give a wicked smile as you cock your fist swinging it up right under Joes chin sending him right to the ground.

When Joe hits the pavement a wave of lavender hits your nose and arms warp around your front holding your arms down keeping your now throbbing hand in place.

“Watch your mouth and get off my fucking property.” You spit at Joe as other people on the street now pay attention to your little corner of the block.

“Amore! Stop.” Melissa urges looking you over as if you’re not okay. She realizes the pang of desire that hits her from seeing you defend her like that.

“Cmon, let’s go inside. Shows over!”

You call out to the small crowd of people as you go to the steps wrapping your arm around the redhead.

“Hold on,” Melissa hums breaking away to go over to a woozy, confused Joe sitting on the sidewalk holding his face.

“Mel-“ you begin to argue, only to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Melly?” The sad man grumbles out.

Kneeling down Melissa reaches out roughly grabbing the defeated man by his now bruising chin making him wince.

“If you ever go near her again,” she warns in an eerily low tone as he yelps at the feeling of her fingers squeezing the injured area, “the last thing you’re ever gonna see is my face. Got it?”

Joe winces looking at the redhead. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Letting go with a rough shove Melissa stands up leaving her soon to be ex husband on the pavement to wallow and take care of his bruised ego and skin.

“That was hot.” You joke trying to break the tense air as you two go up to your apartment. It wasnt a lie at all, but you would behave for now.

Melissa shakes her head carefully taking your now angry and puffy hand in hers looking it over. “I can’t believe you did that. Sit, let me take care of that.”

Getting the door open with your good hand you let out a sigh trying to cool down going over to the dining table, red and purple knuckles facing upward making you wince. “I’m not letting anyone especially a man like that talk about you that way. We both know he had it coming.”

Melissa moves around your kitchen putting ice in a dish towel before coming over to sit beside you. “No ones ever done anything like that for me before besides my family.”

“I’d do it again in a second even though I know you can handle yourself.” You keep your eyes on the redhead, a softness spreading through you when you see the concerned look on her face while she tends to her hand. Having finally met Joe, you understood why Melissa felt the way she did in her marriage.

“Well hon, it looks like I don’t have to no matter how stupid that was for you to do. You coulda gotten hurt,” A proud smirk spreads across her lips despite her trying to be mad.

With her eyes cast down on the towel you gently reach over tipping her chin up with your finger to meet her eyes. Having her this close again after the day you’ve had, you can’t see this previous plan of taking things slow to fruition.

Leaning over to the side of the table where Melissa sits you meet warm jade eyes as you brush your lips against hers. Melissa melts into this kiss, her arms immediately going around your neck as a whine travels up her throat in an emotional relief. Tracing her bottom lip with your tongue the redhead gently pulls back keeping her arms around your neck. She meets your eyes searching for any regret or hesitation.

“Fuck taking things slow.” You hum leaning in for another kiss, this time wrapping your arms around her waist to bring her closer to you.

And that’s all Melissa needs. Nothing is rushed or frantic in the kiss. You both move in a fluid motion like a wave crashing to the shoreline; natural and right like you’ve done it a million times before as you pull her up and walk her back to your kitchen island. Your strides are slow and steady as you two move, almost like a dance as your hands glide up Melissa’s back to red curls.

Breaking the kiss with a shaky breath you peck her lips once more as you feel warm hands cup your cheeks. Melissa looks at you with a soft smile, lip gloss now completely gone.

Still catching your breath you lean forward to close the small space between you kissing the tip of her nose with a wide grin.

“Amore mio.” Melissa whispers wrapping her arms around your neck once more, eyes glassing over with tears.

Standing there in the little bubble you’ve created with her the Italian phrase that you can piece together sends a spark of joy through your chest.

“Every time you call me Amore,” you grin resting your hands on her ass, “it’s like fireworks go off in my chest.”

“That’s how I feel when I’m with you. You brought me back.” She smiles with watery eyes. “And my nana already likes you.” She laughs through a sniffle.

“Yeah? Well Im in love her grand-daughter so that has to give me some points.” You tease keeping your eyes on her the whole time, your stomach flipping at the admission.

Melissa lets out a giddy giggle cupping your cheeks again. “You love me?”

“So much, Mel.” You smile bringing her hands to your lips. The moment she walked into your bar you were intrigued by the mysterious woman, the moment you spoke to her you knew you would do your best to keep her around.

Putting her hands on your shoulders she tips her chin up with a smirk walking you backwards to your bed across the large studio apartment. When the back of your legs hit the mattress you let out a laugh landing on your elbows as Melissa moves to straddle your lap.

Bending over Melissa meets your lips in a hungry kiss sucking in a breath through her nose. Your hands roam her frame again, cataloguing every spot that makes her react. She breaks the kiss first, immediately lifting the hem of your shirt. Wincing lightly as you pull your injured hand out of the fabric Melissa slows down bringing the injured hand to her lips lightly kissing each bruised knuckle.

“I love you, bambina.”

“Is that baby?” Your face breaks out into a grin at her words.

“Yeah,” she laughs meeting your lips again as she unclasps your bra gliding her fingers down your arms.

“Oh you’re cute,” you tease putting your hands on her hips rolling the both of you over so Melissa is now on her back. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” You whisper unbuttoning her pants.

From that moment on you keep your eyes on the redhead only glancing away to pull clothing off. Clothing gone on you both with a few minutes of giggles and fumbling you prop yourself up hovering over the redhead keeping eye contact as you rub your fingers in slow circles over her clit.

“More, Tesoro.” She gasps against your lips keeping her fingers in your hair.

In a kiss that shows her exactly how you feel, you keep your fingers moving drawing whines and cries from the redhead. Not wanting to miss a second of her reactions you keep your eyes locked on her with a satisfied grin. You had done this with many people before, but you had never wanted to see their every reaction. This time, you’re in love and you’re loved back.

Hours later lying between Melissa’s legs resting your head on the soft skin of her stomach, your fingers absentmindedly move up and down her thigh as she plays with your hair.

Thinking about everything you two have gone through together already, you can’t help but smirk. “Mel?”

The redhead lets out a tired hum in response.

“You still wanna go to that Phillies game with me?” You ask not moving from the comfort and warmth of her body.

Melissa grins carding her nails through your hair. “I’d love that, hon.”

Lifting your head you move kissing up her body playfully tickling her sides. “Come shower with me?”

“That’s a good idea.” Melissa laughs as she squirms away, pulling you up by your good hand.

In the bathroom as the shower heats up you find clothes for you both settling on big tshirts and shorts knowing if you don’t you two will be up all night.

“I can bring these back to you tomorrow.” Melissa nods to the clothes.

“Keep em. You look good in my clothes,” you chuckle. “You’re staying the night right?” You ask hopefully, knowing she has to work tomorrow.

“Hell yeah. I haven’t gotten my fix of you yet.” She smiles hugging you from behind.

Chuckling you reach around for her arm as you step in the shower. Adjusting the spray so it hits both of you, you gently rub your girlfriends back thinking about the day.

“It took everything in me to not text you good morning today you know. Then, when I saw you at the cafe I wanted to kiss you so badly.”

“I’m sorry I lied.” She whispers.

“No, don’t do that.” You shake your head. “We already talked about it and I’m sticking right here with you through everything. That’s all.” You shrug.

Melissa gives you a soft smile knowing just by your simple actions since you met that she’s safe and won’t be hurt by you. After a quick and well behaved shower, you get dressed and move to strip your bed of your now soiled sheets putting fresh ones on.

“Baby, what time am I setting the alarm for?” You ask as the redhead sits on the side of your bed putting her hair up.

“Five thirty.” She hums climbing in curling into your side. As you two lay together Melissa lets out a content sigh knowing that she doesn’t have to pretend anymore. She can have this with you as much as she wants.

Turning to your side to face the woman you wrap your arm around her waist giving her a tired smile. “I’ll make the coffee in the morning.”

Cuddled together Melissa lifts her ring clad hand up gently brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Say it one more time.”

Letting out a laugh you lean in chasing her lips for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you hum kissing each of her cheeks, “I love you,” in between kisses to the corners of her mouth, “I love you.” You hum once more kissing her nose which you’ve come to love doing because it makes Melissa scrunch.

And that’s all Melissa needs.

In the morning you’re the first to move when the alarm sounds, hitting the offending device you turn back over seeing a groggy Melissa stretch out with a smile on her face.

“Good morning,” she lets out in a scratchy voice.

“I’ll start the coffee.” You yawn getting up.

It doesn’t take long for Melissa to get up and ready, putting her clothes from the day before back on from the fabric littered on the floor.

In the kitchen you make enough coffee for a big blue travel mug you have, making it just how Melissa likes it. Stirring it you grin when you feel her arms wrap around you and her chin on your shoulder. “Walk me out?”

“Of course, honey.”

Coffee in hand with shoes on and all belongings gathered you walk Melissa out to her truck opening the door for her.

“Text me when you make it to work?” You ask as her arms snake around your neck giving you extra warmth in the cool morning air.

“I’ll text ya, Amore.” She smiles kissing you softly once more before she pulls away to climb into the truck.

“Drive safe.”

Looking over your shoulder to check for traffic you step back watching the truck pull off and head down the road. As your girlfriend goes you can’t help but grin.

Going back up to your apartment you stay up with the sun smiling into your own coffee mug when your screen lights up with a text from Melissa making you laugh.

My pops told me I’m not invited back to family dinner until Nana meets you. What kinda hold do you got on the Schemmenti women, Amore?

[sequoiareachesforthesky]

Just as reference: here's a compilation of the bad bad words said in the french subs of Deep Cover

(cw for homophobia, ableism, sexism)

Refoulé => repressed

Very derogatory when used to talk about a person. The homophobic insult "gay refoulé" or "homo refoulé" is common enough that WordReference pulled it up when I was looking up translations of "refoulé" in English.

So potential homophobic undertones here if you want to read it that way.

Attardé => retarded

...no comment

Pute => Whore

Very derogatory, very violent (no for real tho. even if it didn't mean what it means, this words' pronunciation sounds so violent for no reason, like have you tried saying it?? It sounds so aggressive)

So anyway, I made this just in case this could be of interest to someone 🤷‍♂️

[goodluckdetective]

I also watched the Todd in the Shadows video (I’m not done) and man I have some thoughts. I’m gonna put these below the cut though, due to the content I’m gonna discuss:

CW: Nazis, Nazi Germany and everything that goes with that

Something that struck me about Somerton’s incorrect ideas about the Nazis, was that a lot of his errors were ones that played into Nazi mythos. I’m no scholar of Nazi Germany, but anyone who has even glanced in that direction of history or American history knows the Nazi’s got their ideas about race and “the perfect figure” from America. Not all of it, Europe itself had a eugenics movement, but a it did have an impact: American eugenics had an influence in Nazi Germany.

As said, I’m no expert and you should take this with a grain of salt. Long story short, it’s buckwild to claim America was jealous of the Nazi’s fitness when 1. Large portions of the Nazi army was malnourished teenaged boys and 2. we, sadly, did a lot of that on our own.

The thing that strikes me here is that a lot of Somerton’s ideas about Nazis come from Nazi propaganda itself. I think Dan Olsen of Folding Ideas actually explains this way better than I ever could. If you’re up for it you should watch his video on the Nazi propaganda film “Triumph of the Will” https://youtu.be/jJ1Qm1Z_D7w?si=euOSjWW-9v5wusyM. If you’re not up for it or just want the reason why I’m sharing it, Olsen explains that Nazi propaganda influenced how some see the Nazis as powerful and competent and how some of our ideas about Nazi Germany are based in how the Nazis wanted to be perceived (which gross).

The other thing that gets me is the talking about homosexuality in the Nazi military which is an old homophobic myth. Wikipedia has a summary of the origins and use of the myth.

I keep wondering WHERE James got this idea. The first idea I can chalk up to common American misconceptions of Nazi Germany (though the Russian part still confuses me) but the latter isn’t exactly a common perception except in pretty niche circles. Where did he get this idea from? Did he hear this as an insult enough that he decided it was true? Or was he hanging out in alt right circles and never examined it?

I’m not trying to accuse James of anything here (though I will fully agree he’s got racist and misogynist ideas from what we do know). But I do think it’s interesting to wonder WHERE these ideas came from.

At the very least, I think it shows that when you don’t examine claims you hear, you can easily launder ideas contrary to your values or downright reprehensible concepts to a wider audience.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

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

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

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

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

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

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

Maybe he imagined it.

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

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

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

The stairs creak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

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

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

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

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

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

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

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

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

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

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

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

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

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

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

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

Hawk inhales sharply.

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

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

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

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

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

Hawk finds himself backing away.

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

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

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

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

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

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

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

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

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that’s new.

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

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

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

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

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

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

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

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

Hawk’s done with this.

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

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

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

Why the hell won’t he give up?

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

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

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

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

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

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

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wouldn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He truly could not care less. Honest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

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

Fuck that. He can save himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

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

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

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

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

He doesn’t care.

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

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

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

Hawk’s blood freezes.

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

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

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

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

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

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

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

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

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

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

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

Hawk shudders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now, apparently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

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

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

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

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

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

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

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

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

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

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

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

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

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

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

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

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

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

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

Hawk feels sick.

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

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

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

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

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

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

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

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

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

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

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

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

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

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

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

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

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

All Hawk can do is stare.

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

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

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

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

“You wanted to piss me off?”

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

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

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

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

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

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

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

Now that’s a twist.

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

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

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

Does he even want to?

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

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

Or take one.

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

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

Demetri is unfazed.

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a stupid reference to think about.

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

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

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

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

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

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

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

“Shut up Demetri.”

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

“SHUT UP!”

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

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

“STOP IT!”

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

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

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

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

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

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

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

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

“FUCK YOU!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

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

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

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

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

Some other things to ramble about:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[echo-s-land]

French queer playlist because why not

Comme ils disent by Charles Aznavour (1972) | about a gay man, he cross-dresses too. Don't really know how to explain that one. It's great, it aged really well (Aznavour was a straight man but he had several queer friends)

Sans Contrefaçon by Mylène Farmer (1987) | wasn't actually written with trans masculinity in mind, but it's a trans masc anthem at this point

Ziggy (un garçon pas comme les autres) by Céline Dion (1991; the original cover/song was in 1978 tho) | girl falls in love with her friend, a gay teen - is sad for herself but doesn't insult him or anything

College boy by Indochine (2013) | a song I found not so long after figuring out my own queerness so it has a special place in my heart. lots of cw for the visual clip (homophobia, bullying, conservatism, police violence, religious hypocrisy, physical assault, crucifixion)

J'ai le droit aussi by Calogero (2014) | gay teenager wants to live like he wants, is scared of other's view/judgement on him (including his parents)

Mohammed je t'aime by Gargäntua (2015) | being gay in the hood is like everywhere else - it may not be a good idea to be public about it. lots of cw for the visual clip (physical assault, homophobia, internalized homophobia, suicide). I hope one day Gargäntua will make a song about Mohammed finding happiness because he clearly deserves it if not for the trauma in this song

comme les autres by keen'v (2015) | gay man (teen?) coming out to his father, father is homophobic

C'est toi qu'elle préfère by Alice et Moi (2017) | sapphic anthem at this point; unrequited love

Normal by Eddy de Pretto (2018) | gay man responding to an homophobe (honestly i find it very satisfying)

Grave by Eddy de Pretto (2018) | the singer is an openly gay man, he talks to a wide range of different gay boys/teens/men and are telling them to not worry when they discover their homosexuality; that it's okay

Séduction by Joanna (2018) | bi woman falls in love with another woman

Ta reine by Angèle (2018) | wlw.

Amour censure by Hoshi (2019) | Hoshi is an openly lesbian singer; the song denounces homophobia

Immoral & Illégal by Gargäntua (2022) | 'Everything I love is immoral and illegal' - if that's not a queer feeling. More seriously, it's more me deciding to interpret the song this way then the song being about queerness. Still, whether you listen to this song and think about addiction, queerness, or any marginalized community, well.. well you can't change my mind about it having (intended or not) queer subtext

La mort avec toi by Gargäntua (2022) | literally 'partners in crimes', I decided it was queer for various reasons but you may not think like me

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i'm also just sitting here like literally a turning point in his backstory is fighting back against street harassment from a man who calls him a homophobic slur and then tries to beat him up. it's a 'G-rated' slur they could get away with putting in a YA book ('pansy') and it's the only use of that word in the entire series. standing up to it is also portrayed as part of him being pressured and groomed by a queer-coded older man. these people ain't subtle once you see it lmao

i started writing up a short bullet point highlight reel of Reasons Five is Gay-Coded and it is now thousands of words long and still going fsjdndmdl

[edblrconfessionsandsuch]

block don’t report🥬🥒🥝

Hello edblr! Anyone else pissed about how most of the confession blogs are about shitting on others? Well, I sure as fuck am! This is a place where you can just confess your own thoughts, as long as you’re not talking shit about others!

Every ask will be answered unless you’re talking shit about another user (even if you don’t name them). You can insult me I suppose, but not other edblr users.

Life is shitty for us already, why make it worse by being a bitch?

Mod is poc, neurodivergent, and queer (sexuality and gender wise), so don’t be TRASH (transphobic, racist, ableist, sexist, and homophobic) in the confessions! Talking about your own experience with internalized queerphobia with yourself is fine as long as it’s related to your ed.

I am really bad at advice and won’t be offering it, but you can always ask for someone to reblog or comment.

Anon signoffs are okay, and any anon who talks shit about anyone, is trash, and/or is caught impersonating someone will be blocked!

Tags I’ll use:

confession🥒 - anon confession

advice needed🥬 - anon asking for advice

not a confession🥝 - anything that is not a confession

_ anon - to sort anons with signoffs

anon signoffs claimed so far:

none

My stats under the cut.

my stats (so y’all can’t talk shit about me and accuse me of not being disordered):

height- 5’2”

cw- ~87lbs

ugw- 75lbs

bmi- 15.9

[jamiedc-they-them]

Being Joel's Surviving Child and an Older Sibling to Ellie Part II

Link to Part I

CW: Normal last of us violence, swearing. Mentions of suicidal thoughts. Bunch of angst. Also, a long one!

So, five years. A lot of can happen in five years.

You’ve almost, almost, gone back to how you used to be. Normal. A citizen rather than a survivor.

You’re more relaxed.

It’s not constant, twenty years of surviving isn’t something you just forget and move on from in an instant.

Your family understands that.

Tommy takes you out on hunts sometimes. It’s a good bonding experience with your uncle.

He has your help with organising patrols. These are the main times you see Ellie. Other than teaching her how to shoot.

It’s nice seeing your sister, though she is more distant.

You just put it up to age. She’s growing and changing, becoming more independent, so she distances herself more because of that.

You and Sarah had sort of done that before…everything.

In a way, you’re envious.

Still though, you just keep going on.

You help out with the town.

Joel checks in every so often. But after a certain period, you can’t quite remember how long into those five years it is, he does it almost all the time.

He acts differently. Softer. 

“Something wrong?” you ask.

“I’m alright, kiddo. Just…feeling my age is all. Do you, uh, do you wanna come over later? Found that sequel. Curtis and Viper 2. ”

“No way?! Hell yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Alright, kiddo. Sounds like a plan.”

You notice Ellie’s absence. You don’t question it, though. Her and Dina have been talking lately. From the brief interaction you had with the girl, she was sweet. She was kind to Ellie, as was Jessie. You liked that they had a little group.

When you next see Ellie before a patrol, you talk to her.

“Didn’t see you at Dad’s last night.”

She turns to you, but you can tell she’s more tense now, “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. I was out with Dina and Jessie,” she does sound genuinely apologetic. You miss the mistrust in her eyes. It flickers only for as second, but you still miss it.

“It’s cool,” you say, waving it off, “just be careful, yeah?” 

“Always am,” she assures, putting her pack on her horse and mounting up, letting you take them outside the stables, “besides, with your training, how could I go wrong?” 

“Exactly,” she chuckles at your response, “Just…talk to each other, yeah? Whatever it is.”

She sighs. She wishes it was that simple, but she tells you she will.

She loves you, but doesn’t like you meddling sometimes. Joel too.

Sometimes, you’ll take her on a run. Or one of her friends.

It’s through this, you get the idea that someone has a crush. Dina asks you things about Ellie; favourite food and what not.

You don’t always have the answers, but you do have an idea of what is going on.

You don’t pressure Dina or her on it. Though you do ask one about the other every now and then to try to gauge it and push them to admit their feelings.

You were never into the whole love thing, so this is not your field. But they are adorable, the pair. Jessie is a good friend. Loyal. He opens up a bit more to you. He’s funny, too. Casual. Good person.

Brings out your lighter side.

Seth isn’t an awful guy, but is a homophobe. 

Ellie seems to have a six sense with you, despite the distance she’s caused, and always finds you before anything bad happens.

Her own blood boils when he calls you a “queer” in an insulting way. But she always drags you back, keeping herself between you and him. Her eyes on you as she forces you not to make a scene.

This happens with a few other troubling people in the town.

She also gives you a place to crash when you want to, or are drunk. You do that a bit. Trying to tame the loudness in your head.

It worries her, but she’s gentle. If you ever wake up from a nightmare and are around her’s, she wakes you up. 

“It’s ok, Y/N. It’s ok. It was just a dream. I’m here. I’m here,” she puts a hand to your cheek, “I’ve got you.”

Sometimes she’ll stay with you. Sometimes you both stay up together. Sometimes she sits with you until you drift off, looking at your gentle form, before going to bed, wishing she could stop whatever is plaguing you.

You’re her sibling, older sure, but she loves you.

Sadly, she never gets a chance to ask you, as she soon is plagued by similar nightmares. 

A golf club kills your father, and she had no choice but to watch.

Dina arrives before you, Jessie being the one who fetched you when Joel didn’t come back.

Dina gets Ellie up and out, but Jessie sees you frozen, just staring at your father. Or what’s left of him.

He sees your fist start leaking blood. You don’t notice. Your eyes are glassy, but no tears fall.

You’ve shut down.

You don’t even register him leading you away. Mentally, you’re still there.

Maria visits you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, sitting next to you on your bed, “C’mere.”

She tries to hug you, but you lean away. 

You stand up, arms crossed, facing away from her.

“What’s that?” she prompts, not hearing what you said just then.

“It should’ve been me,” you say, a bit louder.

“Y/N. No. No, it, no it shouldn’t of been.”

“He’s dead.”

“I know…” 

“He’s dead…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

She goes to hug you, or try and help, but you scream, back away, and then run from your room and out of your house, tears be damned.

Dina hears you sprinting, just seeing you as you trip over trying to get into the cemetery.

“Shit,” she says, going to help you up, “hey, Y/N. Hey!” she’s gentle, but you flinch at her loudness, “Look at me,” you do, eyes frantic. She hates her friend in pain like this, “I have you. I -”

“I need him,” her heart breaks. You sound like a scared child - she doesn’t blame you, this is a horrible situation - and not the late thirties person that you are.

You sob, putting your head in your hands as you just break completely.

You then fall back in the snow.

“Sarah would’ve been able to control herself. She would’ve stopped this.”

“Y/N,” Dina crouches near you, ignoring the cold, “you aren’t expected to just control this. There’s no precedent for this.”

“Sarah was. Henry and Sam were. Tess was.”

“They weren’t your fault.”

“Then whose were they?” 

She doesn’t have time to answer you, as Ellie clears her throat.

Ellie moves to you, her too crouching down, “I’m so sorry,” she says, voice raw, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

Despite what Dina just tried to get you to understand for yourself, you impart it to Ellie, “It’s not your fault, El. It’s not your fault.”

Dina hates what this has done to you both. Broken you both. Her girlfriend and friend who looked out for her.

You both go to Joel’s house, and she waits outside for you both.

“Can…can you…” Ellie can’t finish her words.

Wordlessly, you nod, opening the door and going inside. 

You’re both slow, looking around.

You even find the copy of Curtis and Viper 2, you let out a choked laugh at it.

Ellie takes the revolver, but hands you the watch.

“I think…I think he’d want you to have this.”

 You take it, and put it on your arm. It fits you just as well as it fit him.

You look at your little sister. He’s gone, so you have to step up.

You go where she goes. That’s your job: you protect, you guide, you support.

Maria isn’t happy with Tommy going, and tells you guys to go get him.

Before you leave, Maria stops you.

“Please make sure you come back too, Y/N, ok?” 

You nod, “you can count on it.”

She doesn’t think she’s ever been more scared of you. The flicker in your eye. The crazed look of someone on the edge of breaking completely, and with one more promise on the line.

It’s the look of someone who will do all they can for that promise. No matter the cost.

As said before, she’d heard the stories of what you and Joel did to survive, how you were so young and lost your soul in the name of survival and control.

The last five years had seen you return to normal. 

That had now been taken.

So, off you go to Seattle. 

You tell them all the memories of this place you can remember. From small trips and what not. Dina paints a picture of Sarah in her mind as you describe your actions with your twin. 

Randomly, small facts come back to you about the place. They’re always impressed by your vast knowledge (you doubt a lot of it is true, but there are one or two you know are facts).

Then you’re brought back to how the world is with them asking you how old you were in your first kill.

The age gap between you and them is shown, as you try to water it down. You tell yourself it’s to protect them, but really it’s just to protect yourself.

“We’re old enough to know, Y/N,” your sister says, “or are you forgetting about David?” 

The words sting. Ellie regrets them. You just ride on ahead.

“Who’s David?” Dina asks.

“An arsehole. He’s dead now.”

“Did he do something to you?” 

“Tried to. But he also made he break a promise I made to Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” 

“Doesn’t matter now.”

Dina nods, respecting the boundary. It makes her miss her sister more, having inside secrets that friends wouldn’t know.

When it comes to climbing, Ellie goes, joking about your age and your back. It brings her back to simpler times.

“Did I do something to make her upset?” you ask Dina as you wait for Ellie to open the gate.

“Oh. No, I don’t think so. She didn’t say anything to me about something like that. Why?” 

“Just…I don’t know.”

“You’re not gonna lose her, Y/N,” she assures.

“I thought I wouldn’t lose my dad, either,” it’s a cheap shot, and she knows it’s not being fired at her, but she still flinches at it, “sorry,” you say.

She nods, “it’s ok,” though there is hurt in her voice.

Ellie shows you the map, handing it to you every now and then to double check where you’ve been and haven’t been. Sure, things are marked on and off, but she doubts herself a bit. 

Dina moves past the awkwardness between you both, listening as you and Ellie swap stories about Joel.

Dina is happy to hear them, at least you both aren’t completely drowning, you’re keeping each other afloat, and she’s glad to be of assistance in that. 

Dina opens up to you both about being Jewish. You always liked the idea of a god, but never believed yourself. Especially not after the apocalypse, but the hope it gave her was something you understood.

Ellie was that hope for you. If she was alive, and happy, you were happy. 

If what was left of your family was ok, you were ok.

That was why you had to make this right. Make it mean something.

When it comes to combat, you take the lead. Giving them orders. It makes it seem more controllable that way.

Most times, it goes wrong, with you having to adapt, but the feeling it gives you before that keeps you going.

Ellie and you are a deadly duo, Dina notes. Able to read each other’s minds and actions. You seem to forget Dina is there for a moment, your soul focus being on your sister. 

One time, with you all being pinned down, you shot someone who was going to sneak up on Ellie, only for Dina to take a hit.

You helped patch up her wound, but avoided her eyes.

She doesn’t want to hold it against you. You’re her friend, and Ellie’s sibling. You’ve been good to her on runs. You were honest with her about things. While she knows she’d be like this had her sister still be alive, but it does scare her what it can do. 

Yes, she’s following you because she cares about you both, but she’s also scared for you both. What you’ll do. How you’ll do it. What you’ll lose in the process.

Ellie is taken, and you don’t talk the entire way to rescue her. Dina follows, and sees how good at tracking you actually are. 

Dina is shot through the roof, and one bullet catches you. You lay on the roof.

Ellie shouts up to you, telling you to “find another way to get this fuckers!” 

You hesitate, and she seems to tell, “Go!” She yells, “trust me!” 

You do, but you can’t find another way in. Your heart hammers, hearing only the chaos inside.

They’re out of your sight. What if they get hurt? What if they die? You lose more of your family?

You reunite outside, and you check them numerous times for injuries. 

“We’re fine. We’re fine, Y/N. Look, look! No wounds,” she shows you. You just pull them both in for a hug. 

Ellie remembers Joel doing that at the hospital…though she doesn’t push away this time, not wanting to raise suspicion or confront you on it just yet. She doesn’t want to lose you too.

You find more images, and one of the people from the photos is dead. 

Dina looks to you, “What the fuck have we gotten involved in?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, honestly, “but we just need Abby.”

“Y/N, this is insane. What if they already got her?”

“They wouldn’t have,” Ellie says.

“How do you know?” Dina challenges.

“Gut feeling.”

Dina looks to you.

“Let’s go,” is all you say.

Ellie’s secret comes out about the immunity, and you all barely escape with your lives intact and make it to the theatre. 

Dina reveals she may be pregnant and Ellie snaps. You don’t follow her, instead, you sit with Dina. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says.

“I get it,” you say, “it’s scary. Especially in a world like this.”

“Do you think it would be ok? Even after all this?”

“It will.”

“You can’t promise that Y/N,” she hopes you’re right, but is being more real about it.

“I can. I can,” you say, nodding, but you look away right after.

She nods once, before laying down. 

You find yourself falling asleep on the floor. You dream about Sarah.

Ellie remembers the birthday gift you and Joel gave her. That was a good day. A day of your bonds being the strongest.

You have a memory of a time when she fixed something, some dickhead bully. He never bothered you again.

You wish that either she was here instead of you, or you could do what she could.

Ellie wakes you up, nervously asking if you can come with her.

“We’ll make sure Dina is safe. I just…can we go together, Y/N? Please?”

You nod, leaving with her. Dina just asks you both to be careful.

It’s quiet, at the start as you both set off on your journey to find Tommy.

“Did I do something?” You ask as you search a store.

“What?” 

“Did I do something?” 

“No,” she says, not completely lying. 

“Is there a reason you and dad weren’t talking as much? Was it the party?”

“Mostly.”

“‘Mostly’?”

“It’s complicated,” it both is and isn’t true.

“You can talk to me, you know?” 

She wants to more than anything, but that would be - potentially - driving away the one piece of this family she has left that has been with her through so much.

“I will, ok? Just, give me time?” 

You want to press her on it, it sounds bad. Especially if it drove your sister and father apart. But, to keep her happy enough, you find yourself saying the one thing that can do that:

“Ok.” 

Ellie and you find the archery statue. She holds it up and turns to you.

“People cared about this stuff?” 

“Sure, sometimes.”

“You think this thing was worth a lot?”

You chuckle, “not money-wise, no. Thing was probably cheap as anything. But, sentimentally? Yeah, definitely.”

“Why’s that?”

“Made people feel valued. Wanted. Like they actually accomplished something.”

“This little thing did that?”

“A lot of things can do that.”

She nods, but can understand what you really mean. It’s why you’re here after all.

It makes her feel valued. Less alone. 

She does have to admit, seeing you not drowning or shutting down in your grief as you had before was a genuine relief to her.

But, she does know you. She’s known you for like six years at this point.

She can see it’s getting to you. 

You look at the blood on your knuckles more. You check in with her more. Making sure she is ok.

She tries to with you, but you just turn it around on her.

With Jessie, you drive. She rides shotgun, and Jessie sits in the middle. You almost die, but you’re just thankful Ellie learnt how to swim.

Dina and Jessie reunite. You see Ellie walk off, you watch the friends and exes reunite.

“Look, Jessie, I -“

“It’s cool, Y/N. Really. I’m not angry.”

“You’re not?” You did sort of go into this whole thing thinking he would. Though, maybe that was just because of the shows Sarah made you watch when younger.

He chuckles, “Yeah, all good. I mean, it’s a lot. But, Dina and Ellie are my friends. I want them to be happy. Their problems, are my problems.”

“That’s a sweet way to live, kid.”

“You’re my friend too, you know.”

“I’m older.”

“So?”

“I take on more problems for everyone. It’s my job.”

“That’s not healthy,” where’d he read that?

“We ain’t in a healthy world.”

Ellie has a mostly good memory of you, the strings incident. Well, good with you anyway, though at that point you had started to catch onto something being wrong. Still, you like that your dad is trying now with the comics. He and you had even had some discussions.

With the Bloater, you just held Ellie in your arms as Joel took it down.

With the couple and the lie you’ve both spun to her, you’re silent while Joel doubles down on it. She’s catching on, and you don’t like that.

Reminders of the lie you told her about being there.

Whenever you remember a birthday, you ignore that bit. You just remember the dinosaur.

With the strings, you focus on the bloater part and the comics.

With the sewers, it’s you who goes out the window. She doesn’t even think before jumping in to try to find you.

You drag her out of the water.

“What were you thinking?!” 

“Me?! What the fuck were you thinking?!” 

“I had to protect you, El!”

“You scared me! I thought you were dead, you arsehole!” 

She hits you in the shoulder, and then you both take pause. 

You’re both disturbed by the Seraphites.

“You think we should have a code like that?” She asks you as you make your way through a building.

“Would be useful,” you admit, “maybe you learning to whistle weren’t for nothing.”

She gives a humoured scoff. But she’s glad you can still have these moments.

She’s glad she hasn’t lost you. She just hates that internally she adds a ‘yet’ to that.

Before the camp, however, she turns to you, “I need to do this on my own.” 

“What?” 

“Look, there could to spores in there. And I don’t want you getting infected.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Ellie? We stick together.”

“Do you trust me?” 

It seems like you hesitate, but really she sees you weighing up the options in your head.

You nod.

“Hey,” she grabs your hand with hers, “I’m coming back, ok? With that bitches head. I promise,” she squeezes your hand.

You look one more time to the camp, then back to your sister. 

“I don’t like this.”

“I’ve got this,” she says. Your eyes soften at her echoing words.

You nod a tiny bit. You know she does.

You make your way back to the theatre.

“Y/N…” Dina says when she sees you, “Oh. Oh, god, is Ellie…” 

“No,” you say, instantly, “No. She’s fine. Just thought she should go alone. Spores and whatnot. Don’t exactly have my mask.”

“You sure it’s a good idea to leave her on her own?” Jessie asks. He means well, but he is also their age.

“She’s got this,” you assure her friends, “she’s tougher than you think.”

“I know that,” he says, “it’s just…with her state of mind.”

“I’m worried about her too. But, I’d be no use to her dead.”

“To any of us, Y/N,” you smile a little at Dina’s words. 

“So, what do we do?” Jessie asks.

“We wait for her to come back. I’ll, uh, give you two some space to talk about the whole…kid, thing.” You clear your throat, doing that.

Ellie returns when you’re asleep. Jessie wakes you up.

“Where is she?” 

“With Dina,” you get up, and Jessie knows what your plan is, “I think we should just leave them for tonight. Dina’s got her.”

“I could help.”

“I’m not saying you can’t,” despite the almost twenty year gap between you both, he seems to be the more mature one at times, “but you don’t need to smother her.”

Your eyes look dangerous when you look at him, “I ain’t.”

“I’d follow you, Joel, Ellie, or Dina anywhere, Y/N. But, Y/N, there’s gotta be a line where you walk away.”

“Not with her. Not with this.”

“I know Joel was a good man; he was a good father to you both. But, look, Dina’s pregnant. We aren’t exactly going to find her help out here, are we? And I know, you wanna help Ellie; but…she’ll listen to you.”

You go to check on your sister, she shivers, her wounds making you sick. 

You sit next to her, and move the cover she has over her a bit more. She flinches a bit. You mule over Jessie’s words.

You go with them, giving Dina a bottle of water, and leaving too.

However, you then see how high the water is out there. And you see Ellie’s plan to steal the boat.

Jessie starts to back away. Ellie then looks to you

“Not you too,” she says. Damn it, she knows you too well.

“El -”

“Don’t do that. Please don’t fucking do that.”

“I just think –”

“I didn’t think you’d leave me too.

“I’m not –”

Guys,” Jessie tries to interject, noticing your voices going up a notch in volume. You hold your hand up to silence him, then gesture with your hand to lower the volume. Even in her pissed off state, she agrees to that.

“I thought you’d have my back on this,” she says, quieter.

“I have your back. Really, I do. But I’m gonna have to pull rank on this and –”

“‘Rank’?” 

“I’m the older sibling. I have to look out for you.”

“Then do that by coming with me on that fucking boat. If we fall in, we can both make it back to the boat. I need you to trust me.”

“And I need you to listen to me.”

“They killed, Joel. What if it was me?”

“That’s not fair.”

“If it was you, you would want us to try, at least.”

“I wouldn’t know, would I?” you take a breath, “we should just go home. Ok?” 

“You go, then. I’ll see you there later,” you open your mouth to argue, but she beats you to it, “fuck off then, coward.”

The words sting. You want to say more, to try and get her to see the way things are going. But you realise, maybe too late, that you can’t stop her. You can’t control her.

Jessie says what is on your mind:

“I really hope you make it.”

He respects your silence on the way back to the theatre.

You don’t explain to Dina, you just go to your own little space.

“Are they ok?” Dina asks Jessie.

“Ellie and them had a fight.”

“Oh…” she says, looking to the stairs, “should we go check on them?”

“No. No, I think they need some time alone, you know? I don’t think they’ve really had time to unpack everything.”

“None of us have,” it had only been a few days after all.

“That’s true. But, he was Y/N’s dad.”

“You know, at first, I thought Y/N was Ellie’s dad.”

“Yeah?” Dina chuckles a bit.

“Yeah. I mean, you seen how protective they both are…were, over her?” 

“Y/N still is.”

“Yeah…” Jessie looks to the stairs too, “that’s what scares me.”

Jessie leaves on a quick patrol of the area and finds Tommy. He brings him back.

You come down and see your Uncle in the first time in what seems like forever.

“Hey, kid,” he says to you.

He doesn’t get a warm welcome, instead, he gets shoved. Then slapped.

“You left, your goddamn wife! She’s worried sick about you, Tommy!”

“I know, I know,” he says, but you don’t stop there.

“You could’ve died, and we wouldn’t of known. You fucking idiot!” 

The younger two have never heard you so loud. Not even when fighting Seth.

“I KNOW!” Tommy roars, “They killed my brother! I had to try, Y/N! I had to do something.”

“And how’d that fucking go?” you sneer.

“I saw her,” he says, “I saw the bitch that killed her.”

“Yeah? Where’s her head?”

Tommy looks almost ashamed, looking at the ground as he answers you, “she had a kid with her. They beat me. Almost drowned.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t. I’m glad you didn’t, Uncle Tommy.”

He nods, “Me too, kid.”

It’s then, you hug him.

Time goes on a bit longer before Tommy and him decide to leave to find Ellie. They hear on the radio about the Aquarium. 

Dina is the one who asks you to stay, “please. I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared.” 

You tell the other two to go and stay with Dina.

You keep her drinking water. Try and keep her as well as you can.

She falls asleep, and you try your best to get her to bed ok, though she does stir awake at one point. But, only slightly, she falls back to sleep pretty easily. You get her in bed, trying to get her comfortable.

You don’t exactly envy her situation, especially given how hard it would’ve been in the old world. This new one just added more challenges. 

Still, you wanted to help. Just how was the question?

You hear the door close and cautiously see who it is.

It’s your friends.

You see Ellie, eyes distant and scared.

“Hey. Hey, what happened?” you ask, moving on from the words exchanged earlier.

You look to Tommy, he shakes his head: not now.

“Do you wanna go see Dina?” she nods, “Ok, kiddo. Ok. I’ll take you to her.”

You’re slow with your movements, moving at her pace.

When she sees Dina, she is less tense. You let her go, and she goes to Dina, laying down next to her and moving some hair back. 

You close the door gently, before going downstairs.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” 

“One of the girls she killed,” Tommy pauses, puts his head in his hands, and pushes his hair back, “she was pregnant, Y/N.”

“Jesus,” is all you can say as you sit on the stage. 

“Yeah,” is all Tommy can say as he sits next to you. He then looks around the theatre.

“You remember when you and Sarah came here?” 

You smile a bit, “yeah. Or, well, somewhere like here.”

“Nope. Pretty sure it was here,” you have no idea if he’s fucking with you or not.

You narrow your eyes at him a bit.

“I’m serious,” he says, “can’t remember what we saw, mind. But, it was right here we saw it.”

“Hm. Quite the legacy,” you admire.

“Ain’t it just.” 

A quiet few moments go by.

“I think we should go home,” you say.

Tommy nods, “Yeah. Though, not exactly looking forward to Maria kicking my arse.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t gonna be able to help with that.”

“Maybe I’ll use you as a shield.”

“As if she’d let you,” you say, “She loves me.”

“I’d like to think she loves me more.”

“Uh-uh, told me herself.”

“Did she now?” 

“Oh yeah.”

It’s nice, this moment of normalcy.

“Go get some rest kid, we got a long trip tomorrow.”

“Guess you’re right,” you say, standing up and stretching, “night, Uncle Tommy.”

“Night, kid.”

You don’t sleep too long. Your instincts tell you something is going on.

You go to the main lobby and see Tommy on the floor, an arrow in his leg.

“Hands up,” you say, pointing your pistol at…shit, it’s Abby. And the kid Tommy mentioned.

“Y/N, run!” Tommy calls out.

“I ain’t leaving you,” you say to him, keeping your eyes on your father’s murderer.

“It’s you,” Abby says in realisation, “you’re the one who Marlene took as bait for…for him.” 

“You took him from me,” you spit.

“And yours took mine. Now you know how it feels.”

“We just gonna stare at each other?” 

“Not if you move. You’re not on my list. The girl is who I want.”

“So you can run more tests? There ain’t no cure.” 

“No. No, the cure is long dead. On that, we can agree.”

“I’m not letting you get my sister.”

She steps a bit closer, gun aimed up a bit, “Then I’ll take you both. I don’t care.”

You look to the boy, “You found the one good Seraphite?” 

“Just as quick as the rest.”

“Ok then,” you say, putting your gun down, hands raised, “then take me.”

“NO!” Tommy shouts, getting a kick in the gut.

“Maybe I would’ve,” she admits, “but not anymore. You’ve both taken too much from me. All you had to do, was stop. To get her to stop.”

You go to say something, but the door bursts open.

A few gunshots go off. You ignore the burning sensation on your body, and instead, try and deal with the one at your throat, the arm Abby has around it crushing your available air.

“Come on out! Or this one’s next!” Abby calls out.

“Ok. Fuck!” Ellie throws her gun away, standing up, hands raised, “you did this because of me, right? Because they both saved me? It’s me, I’m the one you want. Just let them go, ok?” 

Abby presses the gun into your head, “we let you live,” she says to Ellie.

“I’ll let you live,” Abby says to you, “but I swear, if I see you again, I will kill you.”

Your world then goes dark. But you hear your sister yell out your name.

You wake up to silence. 

Your vision goes double. You vomit on the floor.

Once on your feet, you slowly make your way down the theatre. You wished for music. You wished for something. Some sound to signal life.

You get backstage, and see a hole in the floor. You don’t even think before dropping down it. It doesn’t help your vision or unsteady legs. Shaking your head and getting to your feet once again, you’re greeted with your sister, coughing blood on the floor, and Dina bleeding from her head, unconscious. 

You go to your younger sister, fall down and hover over her. She just coughs more.

You don’t know what to do. You just put her head in your lap, running your hand through her hair.

If this is it, then so be it.

You go to sleep, not expecting to wake up again.

You do, and Ellie is quietly saying your name.

You look down, an unknown amount of time having passed.

“Are….are you…?” 

“Here. Present. Alive.” you say.

“Dina…” You look to your friend. Gently putting Ellie back down, you turn Dina over. The baby bump looks ok. You get some cloth and put it on her head.

“I think the baby’s ok.” 

Ellie lets out another cough, this seems to be her attempt at a sigh of relief.

How you get out, you can’t remember. But you do.

Ellie leaves Jackson. But you’ve already gone before then.

You can’t deal with all the looks from everyone. And what you gather to be a disappointed look from Maria when you bring Tommy in.

You aren’t far from it, instead just living in the woods.

You go to the same part of the water you went to clean yourself in after Henry and Sam died. You don’t really care you’re stealing the Jackson community water technically, you just use it.

You figure this will all help clear your head. It’s neutral. 

Maria comes to visit you, bringing some extra supplies. You just thank her.

She updates you on Tommy. Even tells you they split.

You just give her your condolences and go back to your little hobbit existence. Just you and a tent.

The final time Maria visits you, it’s to ask for you to go with Tommy. He wants to visit Ellie.

“I think she could use your company, too.”

Maria is still family; as is Tommy; as is Ellie.

You have to pick up the load now that Maria shares.

“Ok,” you say, voice croaky from a few months of disuse.

“Thank you,” she says. You nod.

She smiles a bit, happy that you’re somewhat in good standing with each other.

Tommy tries to make conversation with you, but you ignore him the whole ride down.

You help him off his horse and send him up the stairs first to the door.

You take in the place. It’s got a nice view. They’ve done well for themselves.

Dina greets you warmly.

“Hey, Y/N,” she says, giving you a hug.

“Hey, hon,” you say, hugging her back.

She takes a look at you, looking at your face and moving it around with her hands, “you had it rough, huh?” her voice is soft, unjudging.

“Sort of?” you say, unsure of how else to answer.

“Well, sit down. We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Then Ellie comes in, with a baby. 

She pauses at seeing you both, but a whole flood of emotions comes to her when she locks eyes with you.

“Hey,” is all she can get out.

“Hey,” you say.

It’s all going ok. Then Abby is mentioned again, and the mood turns sour.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” you say, hand going down your face.

“Now, don’t you fucking start –” Tommy starts to say.

“We ain’t doing this, Tom. You said you wanted to talk to her.”

“I am,” he protests, though does note your lack of ‘Uncle’ being used, “that’s all we doing.”

“Is it hell,” you say, trying to not teach the kid bad words this early. Like your dad did with you and Sarah.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk, huh?” Tommy challenges.

“We ain’t doing this here. Especially not in front of the kid,” you say, pointing to JJ. He grabs you finger, cooing as he moves it around. You move a bit closer, hand going through his hair, as your eyes stay on Tommy.

“Can you hold him?” Dina asks. You do. He complains at first, being away from his mother, but settles into you in the next moment. Dina takes Tommy outside.

“You’re a natural,” Ellie says, somewhat brightly. You start to rock from side to side gently as JJ settles even more, head on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Somehow,” you joke. Ellie scoffs humorously. 

“I’m glad you’re ok,” she means it.

“Ditto,” as do you.

The silence is awkward, and you see her eyes go to the map.

“Don’t,” you say, “don’t mess this up.” At ‘this’ you swirl your finger around the area.

“Ok,” she says. You look into her eyes that flicker down to the map every so often. You’re looking for signs of bullshit. You find some. You just don’t say anything.

“Ok,” you say.

Tommy leaves, but you stay the night. You get to know your nephew a bit more. He’s lively.

Dina and Ellie both show you around the farm. The sheep are nice. They help calm you down. Even JJ loves petting them.

Dinner is nice. They can both cook. You both even dance a bit. Just minus bigots being there, even better!

Then comes to bed. They show you your bedroom. You thank them and head in.

Early in the morning, you head downstairs, taking the map and putting it in your bag.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks, coming downstairs, Joel's jacket over her shoulders.

“Trying, one last time.”

“To do what?”

“To stop you from this spiral being complete.”

“I’m not spiralling, Y/N. I’m hurting, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

You sigh, sitting down, “You know, back in the old world, they had things called therapists. You ever heard of them?” she shakes her head, “they’d talk to you, try to help you find a way through. I’m sure there are some who would fit that role your age without knowing the turn, or just people my age who became them, but the talking bit I can do.”

“I don’t want to talk. Give me the map.”

“So you can run off and get killed?” 

“I won’t get killed.”

“How’s that?”

“You and Joel showed me how to survive.”

“And anyone can get a lucky shot in. I mean, Christ, look at Tommy, a bullet through the head should’ve killed him.”

“But he’s still alive. And so are you. I don’t want anyone else to almost die because of me.” you can hear the slight crack in her voice.

You know you could keep doing this with her. Going in circles. Your own spiral.

But, you’ve drained yourself.

So, you stand up, and take the map out of the bag. 

You see Dina peak from around the corner, but you’re quick in your eyes going back to Ellie, who is watching you, eyes glassy, and tense.

You approach her, and put the map into her hand, “I love you, Ellie. Far as I’m concerned, you’re my blood,” you grab her face in your hands, “You always will be, ok? But, if you do this, I won’t be here when you get back.”

Either timeline her brain cooks up as to that meaning scares her.

“Ok,” she says, even as her voice wobbles and tears threaten to fall. She takes the map and goes to her bag. You hear her sniffle from the kitchen.

You turn to Dina, and knock your head to the kitchen. She goes down. You sit on the chair in the living room as they share a goodbye.

Dina then comes back, you hug her. You hear the back door close. Ellie seemingly didn’t want to confront you again.

“What…what happens now?” Dina asks you in hiccups.

You kiss her head, “well, I’m gonna get some supplies from Jackson, and go back to my little home.”

“Can you…can you help me move some things back there, please?”

You hug her a bit tighter, “course, kiddo.”

“Thank you,” she says as you pull apart.

You smile down at her, “you’re family,” is all you say.

The three of you head to Jackson, you help Dina set up in her room. 

“Thank you. I mean it. Please visit, that’s all I ask. Don’t do that other way out. Please.”

You sadly smile at her, “I’ll do my best on the last part. I’ll swing by, though. Promise.”

“Ok…ok,” she hugs you again.

“I think you would’ve liked my sister,” she says, voice muffled by her shirt.

“Bet I would’ve,” you agree.

You go back to your tent; luckily, nothing has happened to it. 

You go on a hunt and start skinning your deer. You hear a twig snap, and a quiet “shit” from the person you know who broke it.

You continue skinning, then start cooking. Ellie takes a seat on the log.

You look at her, seeing her casual clothing, and that she’s missing two fingers.

You don’t say anything. She watches you, eyes going to the fire every so often, fingers playing with themselves. 

Wordlessly, you hold out a small cup of water. She takes it, and drinks from it, before handing it back to you.

It is then replaced with some meat.

She eats, then looks back to the water.

She feels something hit her feet. Looking down, she sees a sleeping back. Looking back up, she sees you trying to do another tent. 

She finishes her food, and approaches you, “I’ve got it,” her voice quiet, drained, hurt.

You don’t look at her as you go with your own food. 

“Can you help me, please?” she asks. You pause, putting your food back into the bowl, before getting up and helping to finish her tent.

“Thank you,” she says. You nod, before finishing your meal.

You then set up your sound traps.

“Is that like Bill’s?” she asks.

“Yup,” you answer.

“Cool,” she says.

You just nod.

Once they’re done, you retire to bed yourself.

Ellie stays up, just looking at the fire, then down at her fingers that can no longer play the guitar.

She goes into her tent. The bed isn’t too uncomfortable. Yet she’s still restless.

She hears you snore a bit from the tent diagonal from her.

She shuts her eyes. In her mind’s eye is one of you, her, and Joel having a snowball fight. It’s nice. Warm. Fuzzy. Happy.

You have a dream of Sarah. Of one time of you both comforting each other after a sad film, just holding each other and crying. It’s sad but comforting. 

The dream changes, Ellie comes and sits next to you, and a new movie starts: Curtis and Viper 2.

You all pull up the shared blanket.

It’s a dream, you know that.

Yet you find comfort in it.

It drowns out what’s actually happened. What’s actually been lost.

The illusion will shatter as soon as you wake, as it always does.

But you hope you can dream a bit longer.

Escape the broken bonds you have to go back to at some point.

The sad existence you live.

The emptiness you feel.

The one your sister has too.

Maybe you can overcome it, one day.

But you both know that day is far away.

And it terrifies you both…