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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 3 years

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

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

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

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

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He never wants that to be him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything all right here?”

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

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

Odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, just anything to make her leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because Demetri loved it.

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

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

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

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

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

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

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

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

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

He deserves it.

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

“Demetri, finish him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Demetri.”

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

“Demetri.”

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

“DEMETRI!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season 4 (because fuck it)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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devinescribe · 3 years

Text

Childish

Niragi Suguru

So, a recent comment left by someone made me realize that there isn't many stories where the reader has a little space. I mean, I've noticed it as a person with one, so... yeah!

A quick explination for those of you that don't know what a little space is: A little space is when a person age regresses due to trauma. This could be situations from abuse to having to be an adult when you were a child. People use it to cope with all sort of trauma however(yes, being in a car crash, near death experiences etc. Etc.) When they age regress it can be to any age as well. Although a lot of people age regress to smaller ages (personally, my friend's little spaces (gave me permission to share) are of the ages of 4,5,7, and 3. I, of course, did research on how others experience it, but am mostly going off of how I personally experience my little space!

Warnings: blood, weapons, swearing, harassment(none done by Niragi towards the reader), soft Niragi things because I can't write his character canonly for the life of me-

Side note: there's a whole headcanon thing from I think @aceofspadegrass ? here on tumblr where there's pancakes on Fridays only and everyone goes nuts over it? Yeah, that inspired a section of this-

Niragi didn't know why he felt protective over you. You were just another girl at the beach. But he was protective over you since the first day he met you. It was a quick attachment on your side as well, feeling safe and protected around him. Although, you knew of his interest in you, you didn't want to bring attention to yourself. You already did by accidentally regressing in places around the beach. Or maybe being a bit to childish for your age. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't help it. And Niragi understood. That's why you were with him most of the time. He didn't mind your clingy or childish nature. No, he told you he thought you we cute for needing him so much. And you liked it when he called you cute. You felt safe.

You sat in the small field behind the beach, picking up dandelions and weaving them together into a crown. You kept humming quietly to yourself as you did. "What are you doing there princess?" You heard someone ask from behind you. It was Niragi. You knew his voice, you knew him. And you would never ever mistake his voice for someone else's. It was impossible. You smiled widely, showing him the bright yellow flower crown. He nodded, crouching down besides you. "Don't you have games tonight?" You questioned him, placing the flowers on his head. He looked at you, and up at the crown now placed on his head. He went to grab it off, but you grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You pouted at the fact he was going to take it off, and he kissed your hand, muttering an apology of sorts into your hand. "Yeah. And so do you," he whispered. Neither of you wanted to be separated for the games, but you also didn't want to be in a game where there could only be one survivor. Of course, you didn't get to decide when you two would oand wouldn't play together, but it was so hard to not want to leave his side, but also not want to be the one left alive after a game. He had told you before that if it was a game where there could only be a sole survivor, you would be leaving. And that scared you. You couldn't think of life without Niragi caring for you, or giving you sweet words. After he met you, he started hating the fact he knew what others felt when they were waiting for their partners to get back. Now, you two had never really established what you two were, but you were really hoping he felt the same, because confessing was already stressful enough for you. You didn't want him to leave you alone.

"Niragi-"

"(Y/N)-"

You both spoke at the same time, making you laugh. "I'm going first. Because...yeah. You're mine, right?" He asked, looking at you. His dark eyes met your own, and you looked down. "W-whadya mean by that...?" You questioned, still looking away. He tilted your head to the side making you look at him. "You're mine, right? Mine means mine," he repeated. You understood what he was saying. "I'm yours, pinkie promise!"

You whimpered, clutching onto his shirt in pain. "Owie... hurts," you whined. "I know sweetheart, I know," he whispered into your ear, glaring at all the people who looked at you weird as he carried you up to his room. More like your shared room, because you slept in there more than in your actual room.

You had gotten hurt during the game. This time, Niragi was there to help you. Some asshole had tried to use you as a shield, and you ended up getting hurt. Niragi quickly got rid of them, making sure to protect you.

He sat you on the bed, and watched you to make sure you didn't get hurt. " 'Shiya can help, can't he?'' You said, hissing in pain when you tried to move your leg. "No. That bastard isn't putting his hands on you. You're my princess," he stated. "Yours, I pinkie promised!" You reminded. You kicked your leg on reflex, and almost screamed in pain. "It hurts... pwease get 'im?" You begged, giving him the puppy dog eyes. He scowled, and then reluctantly nodded. "I would much rather you go to Ann though," he said, kissing your forehead. "But she has dead bodies down there... 's scary," you explained. "Yeah yeah.... I know sweetheart. Still... can you try and be brave?" He asked. You thought for a second, before nodding. "I can be brave!" You shouted. "But only for you," you mumbled.

It was your favorite day if the week. Not only was it Friday, and you got pancakes for breakfast, but it was also suply run day. At leat you got pancakes this week. Last week you gave them to Aguni because he helped you with one of your plants that was dying. Niragi was very confused on why you were crying over a plant, until Aguni gave him the look. You know, the dad look? The scary one when a boy goes home to pick up the daughter, and the dad is just giving the the look? Yeah, that's all it took for Niragi to leave it. And the week before you gave them to Last Boss because he got Niragi during one of your panic attacks. So that was no pancakes for two weeks. You were hoping nobody would guilt trip you or threaten you about you giving them your pancakes. It had happened before, and it would definitely happen again.

Niragi usually took you with him, unless they were going to a place he thought you would be in danger. Along with spending the day with Niragi, not having to wear a skimpy bathing suit, and eating pancakes, Niragi let you take some things back. Most of the times you picked out a stuffie, or a fluffy blanket. He also made sure you had suckers or jolly ranchers. Kuina had even once joked that his room was like a little nest for you.

"What do you mean a nest Kuina?" You questioned tilting your head to the side. "Hmm... have you ever read... no, I probably shouldn't tell you about that... like a bird's nest. The pair build a nest out of things they like so they feel safe and at home. And in the other thing I was going to mention... the... usually it's a girl, so I'm going to go with that. The female builds a nest out of clothes and things that smell like... her partner for neutrality's sake," she explained. You thought about it, and nodded slowly. ''I guess you could say that. I like the things that smell like him. Make me feel safe 'n warm," you giggled.

"Am I going with you today?" You asked him, having your fingers crossed behind your back. He nodded.

''You are st-"

"Staying right by your side or within arms reach. I know!" You interrupted, giggling at his worry. Although he wouldn't outwardly say it, you knew it was worry. "Good girl. Such a smart girl you are," he cooed. You smiled at the praise hugging him tightly. "Gi-gi..." you muttered. "Hm? What's up?" He asked. "Thank you."

You fell asleep on the way there, making Niragi be twice as much on edge. He was in the passenger seat, and you were in the back. Of course, you looked cute as always, but that's kind of what was the problem. He kept glancing back to make sure you were still there, and nothing was going on with you and the other people in the car.

"She's Niragi's girl, I wouldn't do that," he heard someone whisper in the back seat. He glared, glancing back for a second. "I don't really care... no rules, as he likes to say," he heard the other whisper back. This made him scowl in anger. You were his. And no one would dare fucking touch you. How dare this person try something while he's right in front of them. "S-suguru," you whined, still sleeping. He turned back, and glared at the person besides you. Their hand was on your inner thigh, high above where it should be. It shouldn't even be on you. "Hands off her. Now," he growled, his hand twitched trying to not reach for his gun and shoot the person. The other stared back defiantly, their hand going higher. He heard you whine his name again in your sleep. At least you were dreaming of him. But he was going to have to deal with this person. While they were next to you, he couldn't do much, as he didn't want to dirty your clothes. You had picked them out specifically for today. Specifically for him. And your beautiful face would get blood on it, he didn't want that. You looked too cute to get ruined by this person's blood all over you. "Stop the car," he told the driver. They did so, knowing that Niragi was not one to spare those who angered him. Especially when he was already pissed off. "You, out. Now. Since you think you're so good, come out here. If you're so confident, you'll be fine, no?" He asked, scowling at the man.

You stirred in your sleep, making Niragi cautious of what he did. Sure, you knew he had killed, and would continue to do so, but he never did it in front of you. If you happened to be in the room, or space, he would tell you to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and sing a little song until he came back. And you did. You were always pretty good about doing so, not wanting to trouble him with a possible panic attack. (He never minded helping you through them, and wished you would understand that.) But right now, you were asleep. And he couldn't tell you to do that.

The person got out of the car, staring at the gun. "Like that's fair," they muttered. Niragi rolled his eyes. "Life's not fair, get over it," he groaned. The person cracked their knuckles, and Niragi laughed. Like they could hurt him, he had a gun.

Boy was he wrong.

Of course, by the end, the person was no longer an issue. Dead most likely. And if not, to suffer from now until their slow, painful death. Niragi had not gone unscathed, however. The person had gotten in a few punches, making Niragi bleed.

"Fuck..." he groaned, wiping away the blood. The driver started driving again, and he heard you start to wake up. He turned in his seat, seeing you yawn, and strech. "Mornin' " you muttered. "Good morning sweetheart," he said. You rubbed your eyes, and looked at him.

"Gi-Gi! You're bleeding! You ok? Hurt? What's wrong?" You panicked, reaching out to touch him. He pushed your hands back. He didn't want your hands dirty with that disgusting person's blood. "I'm fine, you worry about yourself for now."

You held onto his hand, swinging both his and yours arms back and forth as you two walked through the abandoned mall.

"And... that's the last thing on we needed. Which shop do you want to go to now?" He asked you. You smiled widely, tugging at his hand. "Stuffies stuffies stuffies!" You giggled. He laughed, "Alright, alright. Calm down first, and we'll see what we can find."

He was always kind to you. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make him feel alone. The fact that he didn't want to be seen as a monster by you, even if he knew he was. He could pretend. He could pretend this was back in the normal world, and that the borderlands never happened. That he had really met you at the coffee shop he went to every morning, and not during a game where you almost died. He could pretend and lie to himself that he was a good person when he was with you. Because if you left him, or even worse, you died... he knew he would go back to being alone.

And you felt safe around him. Maybe it was the fact he saved you during the game you two met in. The fact he wasn't weirded out the first time you had regressed. You loved him. Even if you knew of all the people he's killed or the things he's done. He hadn't left you to die. He hadn't hurt you, and something told you he wouldn't. He trusted you, and you trusted him. And as long as there was the feelings of love, saftey, understanding, and trust, you'd stay. This meant you'd always be with him, because there was not a doubt in your mind those feelings would always be there.

Yay, first one done! I hope you enjoyed, and please always remember to stay hydrated, and eat because you deserve it! ♡♡♡♡

#alice in borderland #niragi #×reader #fluff #🎶please don't kill me i just want to include diverse things in my writing🎶#i will write more for the rest after work tomorrow #promise

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mardereads19 · 4 years

Text

I’ve been writing a discussion post for two hours and my tumblr app has crashed twice and I am seriously considering not writing it anymore... (jk I still will, but I wanted to say how pissed I am).

#why tumblr #not even saving in my drafts damn #I just want to discuss Elain and her mating bond is that too much to ask?#guess tumblr loves Lucien more than I do cause it won’t let me discuss why I don’t think they’re endgame #acosf #elriel #elucien

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borom1r · 3 years

Note

Hdhdjsjs it's late but I remembered!! Questions abt Adz!! What, if any, kinds of hobbies does he have + if so, which one(s) is his favourite? & also, how did Sentry and Adz meet? Was it sudden or a more gradual progression? Did it take some time for them to warm up to each other? (Also taking his opportunity that I Adore both of their designs!! <33)

aaaaa i had almost an entire answer typed up last night + then tumblr crashed and i lost it!!

i've talked about his hobbies a little bit before + photography is definitely his favorite! he mostly photographs Sen + their other friends— I touched on it before but they do have photographic memory, but that was more because it was useful for the Primogenitors (they would never forget training and once they'd learned from a mistake they'd never repeat it, y'know? also makes it very easy to get comprehensive reports when your puppet perfectly remembers an entire deployment). it's a really powerful thing for Adz, to take photos because he thinks a moment is important

he also likes to cook! Protogen do need to eat (food is emulsified by specialized nanites in their visors, which can open like a traditional mouth), but they don't actually need to cook. Adz likes it because its a semi-repetitive activity and it results in something special for him and Sen to enjoy <3

as for him and Sentry, their first meeting was definitely out of the blue lol! Adz was having a late night out + stumbled across Sen in an alley after he'd gotten into a fight. and, like just the grouchiest mother hen, Adz insisted on patching Sen up. they ran into each other a few times after that, and eventually Sentry just invited Adz along for a night out— when Sen learned Adz was still living in a shelter for newly-freed Protos, he asked if Adz would like to stay with him instead until he got back on his feet. Adz agreed, and, well.. "you can crash here for a week or two" developed into a full-fledged relationship!

it did take some time for them to warm up in general, simply because Adz is generally standoffish and they both have some trust issues. Adz had his life turned completely upside down very recently and he is very much comforted by routine. thankfully Sen is also very routine-oriented, and even though Adz can be a little chaotic and aggressive, he's always well-meaning and is very protective of Sen (which Sen finds very adorable, considering he is twice Adz's age and specifically bred for combat. he could bench-press Adz.. Adz will still 100% insert himself between Sen and danger while beeping like a pissed off 90s fax machine)

+ aaa!! thank u dude!! i mentioned Adz' spines (like a lil hedgehog!) b4 since they don't come across in his design, but smthn that maybe doesn't come across for Sen is that the borders around his panels (where his symbols are) glow that pretty blue/green! he can turn it on + off at will like a very tall, buff nightlight lol (Adz' panels have simple metallic borders; when Sen's aren't glowing they're a matte black like the bottom of his chest/his groin)

#ask #fursona #tyy!!! hhjrjkhsjkhdf!!!

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

Note

You know, if we’re throwing blame around, why isn’t Clover himself responsible for his own death? He isn’t Ironwood’s brainless puppet, he made his own choices that night. And honestly he’s the one who kept STOPPING QROW FROM ATTACKING TYRIAN. Like, Qrow and Robyn played their part in this mess, too. That’s for sure. But Clover set himself up in the end

I’m going to answer this one in as much detail as I can and then save it to my meta page so I can actually return to it when needed, because I think the fandom as a whole has really misinterpreted that fight based on the circulation of leading statements like “stopped Qrow from attacking Tyrian” and “set himself up.” Which isn’t a knock against you, anon. These are claims I’ve seen circulated for months now but (like everything!) they can’t be removed from their context.

So what actually happens during that fight?

What happens is that Qrow starts out in a level-headed and mature place. Despite being pissed at Ironwood and having no desire to be arrested, he verbally tries to keep a fight from starting.

Clover, to my mind, also starts out in a level-headed and mature place. I get that the fandom doesn’t like the arrest warrant... but it is justifiable. Team RWBY was given official huntsmen licenses. They were working under Ironwood. They did lie to him and betray him. They did stand against and threaten to attack their general. Clover is a leader responsible for following the orders he’s given. Which I get is another hot-button phrase on tumblr. Only “bootlickers” just “follow orders,” but the fact remains that Clover doesn’t even know about any of the ethically complex details of this situation. All he knows is that his general and kingdom leader has ordered the arrest of the teens he was helping to train, along with their uncle. He doesn’t understand how that may or may not fit into the five second info dump said teen gave over their comms. Something something martial law and Salem’s coming. There’s no reason why he would forsake his loyalty to Ironwood as well as his duties here. Clover has no reason to prioritize Qrow’s ‘But I don’t want to be arrested’ over years of trust in Ironwood and his pride as leader of the Ace Ops. Besides, who wants to be arrested? His job isn’t to listen to every potential criminal who says they’re innocent because, you know, they’d all say that. His job is to bring them in and let the justice system decide that for him.

In terms of “setting himself up,” all Clover did was begin a legal process that he was justified and responsible for starting. That’s it.

Qrow, at the start, recognizes this to an extent. He’s hurt that Clover wouldn’t drop all these other parts of his identity to just let him go, but he’s not willing to physically fight him over it at first.

As said though, “at first.” The second Robyn attacks Clover? Qrow is on board.

So does he go after the seething bandit who shot an arrow at Clover’s face despite him insisting that there was no reason to fight? Maybe so that once the powder-keg that is Robyn Hill is out of the way he and Clover might talk like Qrow had originally hoped?

Nope. He attacks Clover.

That’s really, really important because from here on out Qrow has established himself as Clover’s enemy. As far as Clover knows he can’t trust Qrow as an ally anymore. Robyn attacked him. Qrow assisted her. Tyrian is a crazy serial killer. Clover is on his own here.

Despite this, twice Clover tries to talk to Qrow. Twice Qrow refuses to back down. The first time is on the ship right after Qrow slashes at Clover.

Qrow might say it doesn’t have to come to this but his words are absolutely meaningless because he’s still attacking. What is Clover supposed to do here? Not defend himself? Qrow doesn’t get to say a version of ‘We don’t have to fight’ seconds after he attacked Clover entirely unprompted. For the record, this is the exact same thing Ruby did to Harriet. She insisted they didn’t have to fight immediately after slamming through two steel doors to start a fight with Harriet. The way RT writes its heroes is by having them say a fight isn’t necessary while simultaneously having them instigate that fight themselves. And of course, it’s only unnecessary provided the other party does exactly what they want. Ruby will only back off if the Ace Ops let them go. Same here: Qrow will only stop attacking if Clover agrees to forsake his orders and let Qrow go, on top of ignoring Robyn’s attacks against him.

The team-up between Robyn and Qrow is re-emphasized with her line, “You can hug it out once we’ve taken him down!”

Again, Qrow is Clover’s enemy here. He attacked him first. He continued that attack. He stood beside Robyn and allowed her to speak for them both about “taking him down.” When it comes to the fight against Tyrian, Clover is attacking both of them because both have proven themselves to be threats. He’s not stopping Qrow from attacking Tyrian because he wants to save the serial killer or something equally ridiculous. He’s making use of openings in a fight where he’s outmatched two to one.

Before that though, we see the second time that Clover tries to diffuse the situation. After Tyrian gets free and crashes the ship, Clover approaches and tells Qrow that they can get Robyn help if he surrenders. That’s a fact. If you stop attacking me we can get her the medical attention she needs that much faster. Qrow interprets this as “manipulation.”

His immovable stance that he cannot and will not be arrested has justified everything else in his mind (despite arrest being the easiest and currently only way to talk to Ironwood like he wants...) To Qrow, a potential arrest is so horrific that it warrants him attacking Clover. Clover wants to peacefully take Qrow back to Atlas and hold him somewhere until they can work out whatever is going on. Qrow wants to attack Clover until he is defenseless and then he can... what? Leave him in the deadly cold? Take on the serial killer alone that he couldn’t handle less than a year ago? Somehow get medical attention for Robyn even though he’s a wanted man? Their motivations here are in no way equal. Clover is being fair within the bounds of his laws. Qrow is being a chaotic mess that’s (shock) going to get someone killed.

This is reinforced when Clover insists that they don’t have to fight. Here, unlike when Qrow says it, his words mean something because Clover is not attacking him. He’s actually giving Qrow the chance to lower his own weapon and end this. Qrow responds emotionally, insisting that they’re not friends and “this is how it always ends.” Qrow has allowed his self-hatred, pessimism, and depression to blind him here. He literally has someone going, ‘There’s a better option where we both come out happier’ and he goes, ‘NOPE it can only end in tragedy.’ That’s been his experience and thus that’s what he insists on.

Qrow rejects the possibility of peace between them even though it’s being offered, right here, right now. He established himself as Clover’s enemy by attacking him first and he then re-affirms that position by insisting that they can only cross weapons. Qrow is Clover’s bad guy now. He insists on trying to hurt him. So Clover is going to defend himself any way he can. That means that when Tyrian arrives and Qrow turns to attack him, Clover makes use of his unguarded back and snags him with his hook. Why wouldn’t he? Why would he suddenly think, ‘Oh, Qrow is on my side again and we’re teaming up to take out Tyrian’? Qrow has given no indication of that. It would be an entirely different situation if, after Tyrian shows up, Qrow growls out something like, ‘Fine, let’s deal with him together and we’ll settle our problems later.’ But he doesn’t. All Clover knows is that now Qrow and Tyrian are both fighters he has to take out somehow... so yeah, use whatever advantage you can get.

We get a shot of Tyrian’s gleeful expression when he sees Clover attack Qrow. He knows now that they’re still fighting each other like they were on the airship and he’s already planning how to use this to his advantage.

When Tyrian next re-enters the fray, his moves work to defend Qrow. Eventually he succeeds in pushing Clover away from him entirely.

While Clover is out of earshot and picking himself off the ground, Tyrian poses his offer: let’s take him out and then the two of us can finish that unsettled score.

Qrow charges and, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, it’s impossible to know who he’s charging at. Tyrian and Clover are both ahead of him. He’s attacked each prior to this moment. Clover is just as likely a target as Tyrian so, again, when he sees his opening he takes it. We can assume this is Clover interrupting an attack against Tyrian, but it would just be that: an assumption. Neither the audience nor Clover knows Qrow’s intentions here but, thus far, his intentions towards Clover have not been good. So he takes advantage of this moment where he can snag Qrow’s weapon and get a hit on Tyrian.

At this point in the fight Clover hasn’t a single reason to trust Qrow to have his back. Even if he wanted to still believe in him that hope is obliterated when Tyrian once again gets between them and pushes Clover back.

They share their look. This is Qrow agreeing with Tyrian’s proposition to take out Clover together.

And they attack.

We then know the rest of the fight. Clover is overwhelmed, his aura is broken, and Tyrian slams Qrow’s weapon through his stomach. So to answer your actual question, yes. Clover has agency... but I honestly don’t think he did anything wrong here. He never “set himself up” to be killed. He certainly never “stopped Qrow from attacking Tyrian” in the way most people mean the phrase: foolishly stopping an ally from attacking an enemy. What Clover did do was:

Adhere to his responsibilities as a huntsmen by trying to arrest Qrow

Insisted on this happening peacefully and emphasized that they’d work this all out later on

Was attacked by Robyn

Was attacked by Qrow

Tried to talk Qrow down and get Robyn medical attention and was unambiguously rejected

Defended himself against Qrow and Tyrian both, first under the (correct) assumption that both were his enemies in this fight and then again with them working as a team

Was ultimately killed by them both

If we really want to play the ‘You attacked a (former) ally instead of Tyrian’ game then we also need to acknowledge when Clover succeeded in subduing Tyrian and instead of helping him, Qrow a) deliberately left his weapon unattended (you can see him look to it before running off) and b) broke Clover’s aura. Both actions led directly to his death.

We even get to see the split second Tyrian realizes that Qrow has chosen to continue attacking Clover instead of helping with his capture. Remember how stupid Robyn’s agreement with Tyrian was? If you’re doing what the crazy, Salem worshiping villain wants you to do, then what you’re doing is wrong.

I adore Qrow, but he was entirely in the wrong here. Every decision he made from deciding to help Robyn attack Clover, to breaking his aura after Tyrian was bound, to blaming Ironwood for it all was just a Grade A Stupid Choice. To my mind, the only knock against Clover is the argument that he shouldn’t have tried to arrest anyone in the first place which, as I’ve made clear both here and elsewhere, I find to be entirely unpersuasive. Clover was the victim. He tried to do his job in the most peaceful, empathetic way possible and was murdered for it. That murder was assisted by someone he thought he could trust and who he considered to be a friend.

No, no one was a “mindless puppet” here. They all made their own choices. The difference is that Clover’s choices were based in responsibility, legality, hope, and compassion. Qrow’s were based in recklessness, illegality, pessimism, and hatred. Those choices simply aren’t equal.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

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rocket-remmy · 4 years

Text

Captain Moose and The Vicious Vampire || Otto and Remmy

TIMING: Late September PARTIES: @gravityfissure and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy tries on their new fair prize for size. Otto needs to stop taking walks at night.

Ever since Bea’s birthday party, Remmy had been feeling an uplift in their mood. There was still a lot to be worried or even upset about, but if there was one thing they had learned, it was that attitude was more important than the situation. If they could just keep their head up, then things wouldn’t seem so bad. Couldn’t be so bad. They would find a way to fix things, and they’d find a way to fit into their new life. Even if they still felt that little tremor of panic when they went outside. Going for walks daily had helped, but Remmy still had an aversion to going outside at night. Today, they’d donned their new craft fair socks and spent most of the day walking around the common. And the more they walked, the more confident they felt. In fact, they began wondering why they didn’t go out more. There were so many people who needed help. A kid whose ice cream had fallen needed a new cone. A woman who had lost her phone needed help finding it. (They found it one of the trash cans wrapped in her sandwich paper). A man was following a girl home and Remmy stepped in to stop him, giving a pleasant, innocent smile and badgering him till the girl was safe inside.

But there was more to be done. They couldn’t let anyone see their face, though, right? They needed to be careful about this. They needed some sort of disguise. Perhaps a mask. Maybe even a cape, to cover themself with should the need arise. Morgan was out for the night, as was Deirdre, and Remmy took it upon themself to dig through the linen closet, grabbing the first things they could find that looked good enough. Snipped it to fit right, cut out holes or the eyes, and then donned their favorite shirt-- “Home is wherever my dog is”-- a pair of black pants and their only pair of boots. Gloves for extra measure, in case punching needed to happen. It was with this set up-- a cape with little cat’s with witch’s hats on, and a bandana for a mask that was a pink, sparkly galaxy, full of glitter-- that they found themself trouncing through the alleys of White Crest. And when they saw a shadowy figure following someone down an alley, they knew it was time to swoop in.

It was late and recent events had left Otto feeling more drained than he cared to admit. Being dragged along on Deirdre’s shroom adventures had very real and damaging repercussions. One that had ended in the operating theatre and doctors claiming it was no small miracle by which he’d survived the impaling he’d suffered after his ‘fall’. The pain meds he’d been given took the edge off, but work rolled on and there was hardly any time that could be taken off even for a through and through laceration meaning the walk home at 3AM was inevitable.

The pain meds were also the reason Otto failed to notice the creature silently stalking him down the alleyway until it launched itself at his back colliding with enough force that he staggered, tipped over some bins and fell with an echoing clang while claws slashed and teeth gnashed; seeking purchase anywhere they might be capable of rending flesh from bone. “Fuck!” blind fingers scrabbled, seeking anything that might be able to help until they curled around a trash can lid dragging it across and shoving it in the way of the creature’s teeth. “”Help!” as if that would do anything. In a town like this he was almost certainly done for. Hells, what an underwhelming way to go out.

The poor man in the alley was thrown from his spot by the larger, hulking figure. Remmy swooped down quickly. “Halt!” they shouted, the towel rustling behind them. The vampire, confused, turned to look at them. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own, erm--” Remmy looked the vampire up and down, realizing how much taller they were than them, but swallowed, standing confident again, “--strength!” Yeah, that made sense. That made a lot of sense. The vampire, still confused, dropped the other man and turned to face Remmy. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be, then, huh? This ain’t comic con, kid, go back to where you--” but before he could finish his sentence, Remmy had grabbed the front of his shirt and was tossing him up and over them. He landed hard on his back at the entrance of the alleyway, crashing into a few trash cans on his way. Remmy smirked. “Wanna try that again, villain?” they asked, before turning to look back at the guy. His arm was already in a sling, it was a good thing they’d shown up. “Are you alright?” they asked, holding a hand out to him.

Otto tasted asphalt and felt the sting of the ground against his face as he skidded to a stop. He also felt a wet stickiness against the lower right quadrant of his tee and a pain that made him suspect the stitches he’d gotten had popped, his hand immediately went to as voices continued behind him. Pushing himself over awkwardly, Otto propped himself up against one of the walls staring at the weird scenario playing out in front of him. A scenario whereby a masked and caped hero seemed to think it fitting to swoop in and save the day in- was that cape printed with cats wearing witches hats? The fuck? He blinked in apparent confusion, those pain meds must’ve been doing something seriously fucked up to his head. No way was his imagination usually this creative. But then the caped crusader was rag-dolling the vampire into the bins and Otto couldn’t bring himself to question the weirdness of this. “Uh.... sure?” his eyes flickered back to the pissed off looking vampire getting up out of the trash as he cautiously took the proffered hand and clambered to his feet still looking over the figure’s shoulder, “might uh-- wanna do something ‘bout that guy.”

The poor, innocent civilian looked pretty banged up and scared, but that was okay. Remmy was here to rescue him now. Turning back as the villain rose from his heap on the ground, shaking garbage from his limbs and glaring them down. “Don’t worry-- I’ll take out the trash!” They spoke with a crooked smirk on their face, before running straight at the vampire, catching him off guard. Two punches to the face startled him enough to nearly topple him again, and Remmy spun to give him a good kick straight to chest. The vampire went flying from the alley, landing in the middle of the street and tumbling a few feet before skidding to a stop. “If I were you, I’d give up now,” they said, hands on their hips, as the vampire scraped himself up from the street, skin scored from the asphalt. Shaking his head, fangs bared, he leapt at them. Remmy shook their head, disappointed, before striking up another stance. They quickly moved out of the way, expecting him to turn and follow them but-- “Hey!” the beastly man kept going, charging at the victim in the alleyway. “Oh no!” they shouted, leaping for the vampire, trying to stop him before he got to the man. Fists dug into the vampire’s shirt, yanking, and the two went tumblring to the ground hard, rolling just past the wounded man. “Don’t even think about it,” they demanded, wrenching his arm up behind his back.

Otto could only stare at the weird scene unfolding in front of him. The corny one-liners ripped straight out of some kind of comic strip that he’d normally roll his eyes at. Hells was this what his life had become? But the stranger seemed intent on fulfilling their caped crusader fantasy and hey? Who was he to stop them from punching his would-be assailant in the face. It was kind of entertaining to watch all things considered, at least, it was until he had a full grown vampire bearing down on him again. “Oh fuck!” he ducked out of the way just in time to see them both go toppling by and feeling the need to help grabbed the nearest thing he could find; a half broken baseball bat sticking out of a dumpster. It would have to do. Rushing up to the duo he slammed the wood with a sickening crack against the back of the vampire’s skull twice for good measure. If he could just get a decent angle it wouldn’t be hard to shove the splintered bat through this bastard’s heart. It was the least he deserved Otto just needed to find an opening.

Remmy ducked and rolled with the vampire, slamming him to the ground, just in time to be thrown onto their own back, slamming against the ground. It didn’t exactly hurt, but the surprise caught them off guard enough to not be able to right themselves in time to dodge the incoming fist to their face. The vampire’s hand curled around the eye patch on their face and yanked, pulling off. Remmy tried to push them off, only to hear wood crack against the back of his skull. The man flopped down, face first into the cement. Ow, that was gonna hurt in the morning. Wincing, Remmy shoved them off and scrambled to stand, stumbling only slightly. They looked down at him, then over to the man they’d been trying to save, watching him raise the splintered bat above the vampire’s heart. “No!” they said, running over and grabbing for the bat. “Don’t kill him! You can’t kill him!”

The cry for mercy came right at the very moment the splintered wood of the bat plunged downward piercing the flesh of the dazed undead creature. Good riddance. Otto thought, grunting as he put his full bodyweight behind the act before the piercing scream echoed off the walls of the darkened alley. There was a bright flash of flame as though the figure had been doused in gasoline before vanishing into nothing but ash and leaving Otto to fall to his knees breathing hard. The clatter of wood on asphalt rang loud and clear. The tremors came a few moments later as the adrenaline began to subside. “He-- He was trying to kill me!”

“No, no, wait--” Remmy tried again, but they were too late. The wood splintered through the vampire’s back, and in an instant, he was dead. They stood still for a moment, unbelieving of their eyes, before dropping to their knees. “You killed him,” they stuttered, “why-- why would you do that? I had it handled!” They stood up again and began rooting around the alley, looking for a container-- something they could scoop the ashes up into. They needed to move them. Even if that vampire had been attacking someone, they needed to lay him to rest somewhere that wasn’t an alley filled with garbage. “You can’t-- you can’t justify killing with more killing! That’s not how it works! You have to-- someone has to break the cycle,” they said to the man, “someone has to be better.”

“You had it handled? How do you call him almost ripping my throat out two times handled??” There was a minor note of panic in his voice as Otto waved at the pile of ash that was being blown away by an autumnal breeze drifting through the alleyway. He tossed the piece of wood aside, backing up one step and then two away from the strange caped crusader. “Break the cycle?” his expression mirrored his look of disbelief at the sheer faith this individual seemed to have in law, order and justice. He couldn’t help the slight huff under his breath “break the cycle of death? In this town? Good fuckin’ luck with that.” No way that was going to happen after all. But hey if they wanted to hop on that train bound for failure who was he to stop them? “Sorry Captain Washline, that sort of sunshine BS really isn’t gonna fly here.”

“But he didn’t rip your throat out! I saved you!” Remmy insisted, feeling their chest heave again. This man was yelling at them when all they’d done was help. Sure, they made a little mistake, but everything had turned out alright. Except for the dead vampire. Remmy found a jar and started scooping the ash into it, looking over at the man with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, well, with that attitude, of course you wouldn’t think it was possible. But it’s gotta start with someone,” they muttered, standing up straight. “It’s Captain Moose to you, too,” they snapped, closing the lid on the jar. “And you’re welcome. For saving your ass.” They brushed their hands off and started heading out of the alley way. “You can believe whatever you want to, but I’m going to believe in the good of people. Even you, Mister Stakes-a-lot.”

“I don’t count near brushes with death as good things but thanks.” Otto answered shortly still wondering how of all the people in this town to come to his rescue it was someone dressed in a witch hat cat cape. The town certainly knew how to make a niche even its so-called heroes didn’t stick to the norm. His eyes narrowed a fraction, half tempted to ask if there were antlers to go with that name. “Aye, sure,” he tipped a salute from his temple, scoffed and backed into the alley. Hells he needed to stop going out after dark.

As the man said his last words-- more like spat-- Remmy stuck the jar in their pocket and sighed. He was backing away and taking off now, not even a thanks in tow. But then again, they hadn’t done it for the thanks, right? They’d done it to feel like they could still help someone, that they still could be worth something. They sighed again, gathering up their cape and brushing off their pants, then turned to head out of the alley as well. They patted the jar in their pocket. “So,” they asked, glancing left and right, “where should we spread your ashes?”

#chatzy #chatzy: otto #captain moose and the vicious vampire #otto

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years

Text

February 13, 2021: 3:00 pm:

====================================================

I have a example of Gnosis that was presented to Los Angeles Unified School District students in the early 1970′s.

This Gnosis inclusion in printed required reading material may be possible to find and study further, was a “Life or Death” sort of a COVID Test in the 1970′s where a book report could get a elementary student killed if they say the wrong thing in the report.

The assignment was to read Lord of the Flies by British Author William Golding, then to write a book report about the events that those young stranded people faced while trapped on a deserted island after their airplane crashed there.

I think it’s last final chapter in the book (is) where the Gnosis shows up, and, it could prove to be that entire novel is a work of Gnosis for weeding out non-paratrooper Canadian terror soldiers who landed in great number in San Fernando Valley California in 1970 - 1971.

That last chapter included that at least two people on parachutes had come out of the shy (sky) and landed on the island where Lord of the Flies took place. The parachuting people did not land, but fell, is the way I remember it, and they had gas masks on when the children found them there, as they had hoped some help had come, it was some other thing, not help, and the children spent some time trying to determine who the dead parachuting guests were.

So, the way I did the report, is I read the book twice, then I decided that the part where those people came parachuting out of the sky was a mistake made at the printer, and I approached my book report as if that chapter belonged in a different book, not Lord of the Flies, was a mistake, and that I had somehow managed to pick up a defective book to do the report with. So, my report stopped abruptly at the close of the chapter before the one when those parachute wearing, gas mask donning intruders had come to the island.

The teacher asked about that, why I stopped without including the last part of the book, and my response was that the book was wrong, my book was defective and contained parts of a different book, so, I wrote about the other parts of the book. I got an A on the report. I lived. Others at the school began to vanish, all of my friends were said to have moved away to other places.

Some things to consider about the usefulness of such Gnosis, rely’s on real knowledge, only those who know that thousands of paratrooper terror soldiers landed in Southern California in the 1970′s will understand or be willing to consider why Lord of the Flies is only one of many ways for the terror leadership to reach the terror army that landed there. The paratroopers in Southern California came in tandem, two per parachute, one adult male, and one child on each parachute. The children ranged in age from about 8 years old to about 12 years old. The children started attending Los Angeles Unified School District Schools. Some of the paratroopers did not land safely. Some got hung up on power lines, some of the parachutes failed to open, and some were injured simply because it was dangerous event.

That report assignment based on a book where the premise is about a crashed airplane filled with children on a deserted island where a “Pig” is used as a religious figure head among the stranded group, and so many other details, all serve as fodder for a child terror soldier to say details about their presence, while writing a book report to a terror teacher substitute while the real teachers are away at a educational enrichment “inservice” day somewhere else. That book report gave opportunity to write something about who made it alive, and who did not. If there were injured terror soldiers, that book report was a way to say who and where the injured, or dead ones, were at, and about where parachutes could have been lodged in trees or power lines or other places where they got hung up on the way down.

I once found one of the parachute harnesses, not the chute. That one I found in a remote place at the east end of DeSoto Ave where there is a very old dam structure made of rocks at Browns Canyon Road where the 118 freeway overpass is at, in 1978, about seven years after the paratroopers landed. I’ll describe the harness when I get an interview from US national security personnel.

Think about that Lord of the Flies Gnosis assignment, and all of the simplified details I provided for you here, to see how Gnosis is bad for Freedom, and serves the terror pirates.

I have a lot to say about my youth in Southern California, but no one to say it to.

===========================================

4:03 pm:

Do a Bing search for “Map of Quebec”:

It brings up this image:

Wait about three to five seconds, and the internet terror pirates put an overlay on top of the map you want to look at, the overlay erases the word “Quebec” and it happens live, as you are looking at it.

Later, when the information is shared, like I am doing, Justin Trudeau will go hide under his house in the basement and call his national Canadian Security forces to say that the information showing that the word Quebec has been erased was done because the person who presented the information is planning to explode Justin Trudeau, in Quebec, and that is why he is hiding in the basement under his house.

If the overlay is put on my view of a search result to cover up the word “Quebec” then it will happen to anyone who has drawn the attention of global terrorists such as Justin Trudeau.

For the record, I don‘t have any desire to explode Justin Trudeau or Quebec. That is not my job. I do think the world would be far safer if Quebec and Justin Trudeau exploded, either on their own or by actions taken by Global Security Forces. But like I said, that is not my job, others are in charge of that kind of thing. I am only an elderly disabled man who is a Medicare beneficiary, so, I can’t be expected to do that level of Global housekeeping, others who better equipped, and in better health are responsible for ridding the world of places like Quebec.

This is also a place of interest, the whole thing with exception of some parts of Ireland is the way it looks. I used to say Scotland was not of interest, but that changed, it’s all bad news over there for far too long... where is my eraser?

This has always been a big problem for the whole world. It’s a boat, sink it.

And this is the main source of all of the problems on earth.

It’s just a little tiny place, see below:

This is all it is, and it’s destroying everything else:

It’s a book, burn it.

=================================

4:57 pm:

Revisit this just for a minute. This is really too depressing to really do an the in depth report and decode that is warranted here, so, I’ll give you a head start, something to look at as a place of basis for your own decode work.

youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00ReU6IGACo

First, some background is necessary:

(when i do strikethrough that is example of Christian terror at Centurylink changing the text I wright to a “The” for “Theology” means “God”. There are thousands of places where “That” gets changed to “The” by the terror army operatives at Centurylink, Google, and Tumblr terror cells. It’s the same as if the Pope came to piss on the things I wright while trying to get some help)

To see what is happening here, you have to know the (that) when a citizen is awarded a disability status, that event is called “Award of Disability” and beneficiaries receive an “Award Letter” to inform them that Social Security Administration has finished doing their assessment on the application process that people have to go through, it takes more than two years to complete the process, and EVERYONE is denied in the first round, to discourage those who may be trying to deceive the application process. Once “Awarded”, the person becomes a Medicare Beneficiary, and begins to receive a nominal amount of income based on the amount of Social Security Monthly Premiums that person paid, automatically, as it was deducted from their paycheck throughout their lifetime. There is a maximum to the income amount, it’s not enough to survive on for most people. During the first fifteen years of Disability Award Status, those people are subject to the whims of the SSA, if they feel like a reassessment is necessary, the person is called in to a hearing, and must PROVE that they still should be considered as a Disabled Citizen. It turns out that other neighbors are often a threat to such people, and will go out of their way to make life more difficult for disabled people, and will call the SSA to tell them that their neighbor claims to be disabled, but does not look disabled. That means that the neighbor, who is not a doctor, works at McDonald’s as hostess, can make a problem for the disabled persons. You might say that should no problem if the disability is real, just prove it, again. What you don’t understand about that is the lack of control, the threat of having to pay back all of the income that was received before the neighbor called SSA to say stuff they know nothing about, the worry, extra expense, and most of all the time that is required to focus all of your life’s efforts on proving once again that an Award is to be continued. Every other thing a person may have going on, has to stop, all focus shifts on maintaining what is already in place. It’s like you are out at sea, and the information is such that someone is going to take your boat while you are ten miles out in the water. You have to stop everything to save the boat.

Then, for purpose of that video, after fifteen years passes, disability award citizens are no longer subject to any kind of interference from SSA for review no matter what any one says. So, the disabled person will never again be called in and forced to prove anything after fifteen years passes. That is what Jeff Kiesel is talking about in that video after he introduces the “Dotted Line” where a design patent contract is a protective measure. He is pointing out that it is not likely that anyone will be looking at, or interested in disabled people after fifteen years of awarded disability status, and that fact makes them good targets for the long haul where the victims income can easily be maintained after Jeff Kiesel signs the dotted line where the Guitoligist, Brad, does the dirty deed, Gain Cheap, on the Clean Channel.

Contract; Protection; Design.

Those are among the key statement jargon, where “design” is in reference to subjects suitable for surgical experimentation. If not experiment subjects, then such people can be held captive by someone who claims to be a son or daughter or other relation to the victim, and used for things like taking to a SAG friendly doctor so that Jeff Kiesel and Brad the Guitologist can get high on the captive patients pain medicine that is prescribed after a fall down the stairs, or a “gardening accident” in the yard, while those patients never get the medicine they are prescribed. Hear Jeff Kiesel say the phrase “One Leg” to get an idea of the horror of being held in captivity by drug addict SAG members.

Refer to the 6:34 mark in video to get to the heart of the coded message.

It’s coded. You decode it yourself, to keep your parents and grandparents free of captivity, and yourself, because you never know when that freight train is going to run you over until after the train goes by.

All of that is talked about openly on Google/YouTube.

You watch this video and then argue that Google is not in the snuff movie business, I double dog dare you to.

They even know and mark the video with a warning, so, I’ll warn you also: You cannot Un-See this video. Once you have seen it, it will stay with you forever, like a heroin addiction is to a SAG member.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZYDc_yR0qA&bpctr=1613268727

This video worked and was playable here on tumblr for a few hours, someone had to manually see that it’s here, then put the age restriction on the Google Snuff movie service. I recommend using someone else’s computer to view the video, as Google has turned it into a controlled environment where they can trace your address, so, use a police computer or one at the local church for viewing Google Snuff Movie Service Productions whenever possible. If you click the link, they will assume you read this account, if that happens, you will be marked as someone who knows the truth about Google and the Vatican, and they will hunt you down, take you captive, torture you so you will give them addresses of your family, especially small children, and your banking and asset access information. Then, they will put you into a commercial grade Chipper/Shredder, and grind you up into a liquid, add some water, and some seeds, and spray you onto the roadside as Erosion Abatement for profit because the Department of Transportation pays the contractors for the service of doing Erosion Abatement work on the roadsides, so that the road won‘t wash away in the rainy season. That, is the Christian Way. You can‘t see it through so many daisy’s is part of the problem with that. Orange poppy seeds are most popular in Or/egon for the Human Erosion Abatement Program. The mixture starts out as “V-8″ they call it, then when the seeds are added, at the time of the spraying, they call it “Red Hydroseed” and that is what the State is billed for by the contractors. no, I am not joking, does it sound like a joke?.

youtube

The reason that video exists and is presented on Google/YouTube, along with other similar ones, and movies of animal torture, is create a market for them. The existence of such movies available mainstream makes a “custom order” situation available through YouTube and it’s all approved and signed off by Sundar Pichai, and the Pope with use of a warning label, and the added benefit of that SAG Media “Color Announcer” who calls the action like a little league umpire calls an infield fly rule. Those who are really in the know, knows that the snuff movie presented, is about young boys and young girls because of the “Infield Fly Rule” that is presented in the approved Google snuff production there. “Infield Fly Rule” at a little league game is far more difficult to call as a umpire, than that snuff movie Color Announcer does with a train.

Boy Scouts of America

Eagle Scouts

Girl Scouts

Brownie’s

Little League Baseball

Pop-Warner Football

Gymnastics

Any and all extra curricular sports activities where SAG members can sign up to be a coach or a mentor, all inclusive, is what the train video is truly about, and is what Google is truly about.

Learn to read terror comm.

Turn off the fucking television, there is nothing real presented on it.

Stop the terror take over of USA. Preserve USA by restoring the Freedom that was lost to the Christian terror pirates.

Expose them, remove their fake Corona Masks.

Make arrests. Take them all to Easter Island and drop them off there. There will be way too many to put into the prisons.

===============================

6:46 pm:

Local Conditions:

About 40 degrees F. Absence of wind, high overcast sky.

I saw lights moving around in my front yard as dusk settled in at the close of that Boy Scouts entry above.

I took a walk to the mailbox.

I hesitated momentarily at the front door, opened and closed it a couple of times knowing that the terror bastards are triggered into action with listen device they put beneath my house at the entry.

I stepped out and a car moved south on Russell Road, as is usual at this time of day when I step outside, I am a little early with walk today because of those lights I saw in the front.

There were no lights on at the 376 Jackpine unit B as I stepped over to the driveway, there is a odor of death there, is faint, smells as if a dead creature or persons is in wooded area over there near the Offensive Monroe Surveillance Travel Trailer. I continued to the road, as I passed by the Monroe’s camara area pointed at my gate, there was the sound of jet ... I looked all over the sky to see the jet, but there was no sign of airplane, the sound went north, then west, then north again, then south, it was not a jet, it was a terror soldier’s nitrous gas tank ignited by my Bic Lighter and the sound of a launched terror soldier.

There was one item at my driveway entrance that was out of place, someone had moved a thing that I don‘t think could have moved on it’s own.

The people at 445 Jackpine have all of the house lights off tonight, is totally dark in contrast to last night when the place was lit up brightly. I could see that one of the vehicles there is a pick-up truck, looks medium grey color, but it’s too dark outside to know more, or it could be blue color.

There was nothing in the mailbox.

That Mazda, or other similar looking car was at 520 Jackpine again, parked in front, there was a dog in the yard, and someone was hiding behind a wood fence there along the road watching as I looked for my mail in the box.

I went over that way, there should have been some trash cans brought to the corner by now, in anticipation of Monday Trash Day, but there were no trashcans out on a Saturday, is unusual but not unheard of.

As I looked around at the corner, another terror soldier ignited at 520 and must have taken off very quickly, that man hiding by the fence came out and got into that Mazda, and drove away while I was still walking on the road. He used a flashlight to light me up, so, I returned the light back to him, with a bigger, more powerful light.

I was concerned for a moment he might try to run me over, but I just stayed my course, and went to my driveway. I think the man in the Mazda thought I was the Jet I heard, his accomplice terror assassin, or maybe the other one that was standing right next to the Mazda and launched away quick. I think that one landed at 535 Jackpine at Freeberg terror cell, as I did hear a “Thud” sound from that direction.

It looked to me that the Mazda went to 376 Jackpine to Chartrand terror cell. I did not stay close enough to know for sure though.

There is a possibility that the car was brought to Chartrand by remote control, that is not uncommon, and all of the automatic transmission cars are fitted with remote control operation so that in event that the gas wielding terror soldiers are ignited and burst, the cars can be driven remotely to a controlled place to clean the guts, piss, and shit that gets spattered all on the interior of the cars when that happens. The Myers car from 560 has had dozens of Bursted terror soldiers explode in it over many years.

The lights at 376 Jackpine unit B came on at the front entry there as I walked back to my house.

Conclusion is that all four of the 445 Jackpine assassins are all dead now, and as I thought, were working with the people at 376, and, 376 is the Mazda that has been bringing dogs to the 520 address on occasion for staging attacks at my house with help from many terror cells from near and far.

I’ll take another walk later on to see if Mazda Man wants to dance with me...

Here kitty, kitty, kitty .... Ohhh Mazda Man... Let’s Dance!

==============

7:27 pm:

In event that nsa is watching, wondering, learning, be advised of the VKA follow up work I did earlier today.

Can’t say more.

also: 928-249-3186 Kingman AZ Jeremy is of interest, sent him the 1 2 3 in return for A B C he sent last week about a “SpringBoard”. I could use some help with dealing with Jeremy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQtPzo-7AHs

youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQtPzo-7AHs

Possibly Jeremy Barns. A former renter of one of my houses many years ago, associated with Marc & Kayla Cobb who are members of the Tucker’s Barber Shop on 6th St. at Village Square Shopping Center, a “Hawaii 5-O“ terror cell controlled by “Greens of Olde Three Ply” Vatican Choir high command at Kauai Ranch. Jerremy Barns is also loosely affiliated with Joanne St. Cyr of Quebec Canada, and she is part of many things, Jazz Airline is one of them, a Air Canada regional commuter airline serving the Quebec/Montreal area.

Jeremy Barns, The Cobb terror cell, Todd & Alicia Wright and Micheal & Mercedes Wright terror cells are all Safari terror cell members, the Wright’s are actual Lion Handlers, and the Wrights are family of Richard Wright of Pink Floyd, who is one of the Green’s of Olde Three Ply Vatican Choir terror high command at Kauai Ranch.

I suppose all of tonight’s walk to the mailbox is just for personal documentation so I can remember things as they occurred, since no one is interested in preserving USA, or restoring lost Freedom enough to ask me a question about this account of terrorism on Tumblr.

===========================

9:49 pm:

I am tired, I don‘t want to do the decoding, but you can.

Here, this man runs down all of the necessary ingredients to say: “Last in Line”. a Ronnie James Dio song that is deep, but partly is about a entertainment event where terror soldiers go to the back of the line at the entrance, they have swords, a lot of protection from event staff at a concert, baseball, football, any kind of event where the venue has a “Grey Area”, a median place between the seating area and the entrance to the venue such as the concessions area at a baseball stadium is where you present your ticket to an usher before the event begins. The terror soldiers “Hold their swords horizontally, and move forward” through the crowd that is lined up in such a “Grey” area. The audience is killed before the show begins, three percent of the total show audience is taken, ID’s are processed, and replacement look-a-likes are arranged to go live at the victims homes, ultimately, to vote for SAG Shills on ballots such as are all of the people who are featured at the fake impeachment hearings. He says everything but “Horizontal” in coded language.

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1360677045139869702

Here, Twitter covered that missing “Horizontal” twice with trending Letterman bullshit. Here, he “Roasts” Lindsey Lohan to a point of tears, she must have said or done something to gain attention to the ways of the Screen Actor Guild and was punished for saying whatever she had said, maybe some research can find what Lindsey revealed.

She is wearing “Upholstery”, basically is donned in a sofa. So, the Upholstery outfit could possibly be enough to piss David Letterman off, and Roast her.

Upholstery = “There must be some kind of hold up” in SAG terror language, is a Universally used term, many uses. She may be using it as a “USA is being hijacked” sort of holdup. So, they are sending her to Rehab, where she becomes the “Horizontal” member of the impeachment asshole above who is saying “Last in line” and it’s also a “Sloppy Seconds” statement.

https://twitter.com/davejorgenson/status/1360783863887376390

This at the end is a place where Dave threatens Cher (who does not look exactly the same as I recall she looks in that interview) and that video clip makes the horizontal part of the impeachment Last in Line happen twice, with a “Sloppy Seconds” at the end of the show.

It’s complicated, but not impossible to decode David Letterman, besides, he’s been dead for about five years, his head was put into the mailboxes on Jackpine after the show was over.

https://twitter.com/Squidwardsnose8/status/1360696495708778504

One of the more important things to keep in mind is that Twitter made all of that click together, with use of “Twitter Trends”. The content of the Tweets from Letterman are all contained in the vast archive of Twitters digital storage capacity, and Twitter is Google, so arranging all of that stored archive to produce desired results is what Google is all about, it’s what they do, they categorize information.

So, once you do the decode, then you need to see why the decode opertunity presented itself there for you to see. It was Twitter that arranged all of that so it would be there to use as a language, a graphic based language that says more than the individual pieces of video clip when combined, and with a host from the fake impeachment to guide the reader to the message.

The message is about a mass murder at a venue, where there are women who will be punished, captured and killed after plenty of raping is done by David Letterman and Jay Leno, who you know is waiting to share a garage with Dave nearby.

My read is a personal one, that includes much other communication on Google products, in the music industry email promotions, and in my neighborhood, where the message spells out a Rush at my house on Sunday morning by men with swords, and with horses, equestrian snuff at my house, with a draw and quarter featured at the end of the show.

I can hardly wait.

Draw & Quarter: It’s been about fifteen years since the last time I saw someone being drawn & quartered. Usual is done with two horses, where some ropes and shackles are attached to a victims arms and legs, and the other end is tied to the saddle of the horses. They prefer to use four horses, but one will work if horses are in short supply, just tie the other end of the rope to a tree and the result is almost the same. The horses slowly pull the victim into pieces.

The Draw & Quarter events are very unpleasant to see, even worse to be the star of the show.

Best guess is Adrian Witcherly will supply the horses. She is a bank manager at the Midland St. Branch of JP Morgan Chase Bank in Grants Pass, corner of 7th St. not far from OR State Police Field Office which next to the Seventh Day Adventist Church on 9th St.

=====================

11:00 pm:

This man is said to be the most powerful man on earth, surely he will save me, and prevent the event from happening, given that all of information necessary for prevention has been provided.

I am confidant that the US President will do what ever is necessary to prevent tragedy when he has opportunity in advance to do so.

Certainly he will realize the horrible threat to USA, to Freedom, and the threat to mankind that is presented to the world by Google, and will everything in his vast power to stop Google and Twitter from murdering more US citizens forever.

Joe Biden will do the right thing, he has been informed of the danger.

https://twitter.com/POTUS

=======================

11:33 pm:

I just now sent this cry for help to the White House.

2-13-2021 at about 11:27 pm Oregon time.

Take note that I specified to read the information in the links provided, and that 911 Emergency phone service will produce assassins at my house if I use that. I have much other documentation of failure at FBI.Tips.Gov too. It does not work, only assassins come in response to reports of terror mass murder in Oregon.

“Please send help. The state of Oregon has been hijacked by terror army from Canada, they use poison gasses to overpower victims, capture and torture them, then kill & replace them with imposters. There are many hundreds of thousands of them, and they have been murdering the population for more than twenty years. There are more than 800 pages of explanations at the link provided, eye-witness accounts of actual terror mass murder happening in Oregon and all over the west coast of USA. Please study the information carefully, as the terror is very sophisticated. 911 Emergency phone service is not available, it's controlled and operated by the terror army, they only send assassins when people call for help. Please send US Military. https://stone-man-warrior.tumblr.com https://stone-man-warrior.tumblr.com/archive”

They will call the local sheriff.

The local sheriff will send assassins.

That is what happened each time I sent a request for help to a US President.

Obama.

Trump.

Biden.

They have all been informed. none have stopped the terrorism, mass murders, kidnapping, or US takeover.

They all have sent assassins.

Joe Biden started sending assassins before he took office.

If I disappear, Joe Biden’s people did it.

============

11:46 pm:

Here is the BBC UK news response to my letter to Joe Biden at WhiteHouse.gov:

https://twitter.com/BBCNews/status/1360856008969621507

This is the part where Reuters UK (SIS MI6) makes the order to change the contact information I included with the note to Joe Biden at WhiteHouse.gov. This effectively will result in the death of investigative persons sent to the wrong places, because that Tweet says to make “Variant Modifications” and is directed at what I posted regarding the note asking for help.

I used the correct contact information on the form at WhiteHouse.gov. Part of the terrorism includes that the phones don‘t reach the people I need to reach, only approved terror cells can be reached with a telephone, and only terror cells call my phone number.

It’s should not be difficult to see where I live to contact me by reading the information at the links included, to this account. The problem with that is the investigative persons are not provided with the source information and have no idea that this account exists at all, they just go where the leadership tells them to go do investigative work, but the leadership is all SAG Shills, are all terror army operatives, and they send the investigative people into traps intentionally. Reuters UK is making sure that investigative persons go to Bullhead City Arizona, instead of Oregon where I am at, and where I can help them help me to help everyone, and restore the freedom that was lost so long ago.

https://twitter.com/ReutersUK/status/1360857587453988866

February 14, 2021: 10:05 am:

February 14, 2021: 10:38 pm:

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1360990937606983691

Biden effectively says: “Fuck you minion”

Then turns to his Canadian SDA terror soldiers and commands: “Grab your rakes and pitchforks, let’s get to work”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BniO017oeTM

youtube

The President of the United States of America, Joe Biden.

It’s St. Valentines Day today, I forgot, he’s busy ... today is a bad day for doing anti-terror work.

1 note · View note

w-k-smith · 4 years

Photo

Once again, tumblr has hidden the version of this post that has links. (Clearly, weird fan fic where ghosts eat candy bars is just *too radical* for this website.) This story is also available on AO3, under the username w_k_smith.

Chapter Two is here of “Don’t Go to the Netherworld!”

In this chapter, Beetlejuice and Lydia make their way through Saturn, but are waylaid by Zagnuts, a boy band, and all the obstacles the desert otherworld has to offer.

Chapter One: “It’s a Wonderful Afterlife” (6/19/20) Chapter Two: “Worm Welcome” (07/03/20) Chapter Three: “Ghost to Ghost” (upcoming) Chapter Four: “To Beetle or not to Beetle?” (upcoming)

Warning: This story contains depictions of, references to, and discussion of topics like suicide, untimely death, abuse, and body horror - you know, like the musical does (though this probably has more). Know your boundaries, and stay safe.

New chapter under keep reading!

“I don’t understand,” Lydia said, as they crossed from the midnight of the administrative area, toward the hot afternoon of Saturn, through the twilight in between. “What’s Saturn? Are we going to the planet…somehow?”

“Nope. Totally unrelated, and don’t ask me who named it. Saturn is the part of the Netherworld that acts as a trap for ghosts who get out of line, like if you try to leave the house you’re haunting, or jump the line in processing like someone I could mention. Going through processing would only take a couple steps, but Saturn is an anti-shortcut from the feverish nightmares of M.C. Escher. It’s a giant desert, and it’s full of sandworms. Those are snake monsters that eat ghosts. Foreshadowing?” he muttered to himself.

“This is so weird,” Lydia muttered. “I love it.”

She didn’t seem like she was being sarcastic. Maybe hanging around her wasn’t going to be too terrible.

Unfortunately, he saw trouble ahead.

“Keep your head down,” he whispered to Lydia. “Look dead. Deader than that. And don’t sneeze! Dead people never sneeze!”

“What?”

“Hello, Beetlejuice,” said five tenor voices in unison. A cluster of expressionless young white men was drifting through the shadows toward him and Lydia. The boys had died in their late teens and very early twenties, long enough ago that two of them sported frosted tips. They were dressed just differently enough to be distinguishable from one another, in dated pants and t-shirts with no personality.

“Hey, Boy Inferno,” he grunted.

“What are you doing out here?” they asked. They all floated six inches off the ground, in a formation reminiscent of migrating ducks.

He rolled his eyes. “Just running an errand for Juno. Miss Argentina find that living intruder yet?”

“Not that we’ve heard. Who’s your friend?”

“New hire. Juno wants her on border patrol. Her name’s Lydia, and she’s boring. Kids these days, you know, they think eyeliner and TikTok counts as personality. But them’s the rules: if you add to the work, you have to help out.”

“Do you want to hear the introduction song, Lydia?”

Geez, they didn’t back off easy. “Save that for people who’ve committed genocide or worse.”

“We were talking to Lydia.”

At his elbow, Lydia scratched the end of her nose. Boy Inferno caught the gesture, and as one, cocked their heads.

“What did you die of…?” they asked her.

“Um, I don’t want to talk about it,” Lydia said, which was the wrong thing. All newlydeads ever wanted to do was blather on about how they’d bitten it.

“OK, you got me!” He stepped between Lydia and the boys. “This isn’t an approved mission to Saturn. We were actually trying to, ah, hide out from Juno for a while. She is in a mood today, I tell ya. Just impossible. She wants me to take a statement from all the recently deceased who were in line when the alarm went off, and then pinch each of them really, really hard to see if they still have nerve endings. I’d rather swallow my own toenails. Remember that time Juno made me swallow my own toenails? You were there for that, weren’t you? So be a hive-minded pal and help me stay on the DL. This one already threatened to tattle if I didn’t show her my good hiding spot.” He jerked his head at Lydia.

Boy Inferno blinked.

“Alright, then,” they said, and each voice sounded suspicious. But they drifted back toward the administrative area.

Lydia stared as they went. “Who are those guys?”

“Boy Inferno is a dead boy band. They didn’t have enough brains or personality to be individuals when they were a living boy band, and when their tour bus crashed, the situation got worse.”

“Yikes. And speaking of yikes, what were you saying about sandworms? Are they going to eat us?”

He waggled one hand back and forth, and started walking. “Eh. It’s probably OK. You’re alive, so they’ll leave you alone. I’m half-ghost, half-demon, which confuses them more than anything. We’ll be fine if we don’t run into a sandworm that’s pissed off or starving.” They were crossing into Saturn proper. The terrain changed from dark gravel to rolling sand dunes dotted with twisted rock formations. Wooden doors hovered here and there, from three feet off the ground to 20 stories high. There was the light and warmth of a yellow sun, but if you turned in every direction, you would never see a sun or any other stars in the royal blue sky.

“Huh. Now I kind of want to meet a sandworm...” Lydia said, looking around like one was going to pop out from behind a dune.

“Yup. That’s definitely foreshadowing.”

“So…what’s it like? Being half-demon? How does that, um, happen?”

He waved his hands to turn them into sock puppets – one red and bearing a vague resemblance to Juno, the other a grey blob and as good a representation as he’d ever had of his father. “Hello, children!” he said in a screechy voice. “Let’s talk about the occult birds and bees. When a demon woman tolerates a living human male very much…”

She shoved him. “I know that, gross! I’m ace, but not completely ignorant. I just wondered if you were ever alive.”

He put his hands back to normal. “Uh-huh. I was alive. Looooong time ago, though. Long enough that we didn’t pay much attention to what year it was, and only bathed twice a lifetime, and drank beer instead of water. Hm. Or maybe that was all just me. Anyway, Juno only had me to see what would happen if you mixed demon magic with ghost abilities. Turns out, you get yours truly. She hated the result, and I never got any little siblings to chase around. But it’s fine with the just the two of us; my mom has this sweet thing she says to me every day: ‘I wish you had never been born.’ I think it’s a Swedish pet name.”

“How did you die?” Lydia asked.

“I asked a bunch of annoying questions that weren’t any of my business and someone stabbed me.”

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned. “How far is it, anyway?” she asked, shading her eyes. “I don’t see anything…”

“Distance doesn’t really work like that here, and we could move way, way faster if we were both dead. But it’s pretty damn far.”

She sighed.

He had to give Lydia Deetz this: she was a trooper. She was wearing a dress, and boots that were very much not made for walking, but she kept moving, eyes forward, not a single complaint. When her stomach growled like an angry guard dog, she held her head high and acted like she didn’t notice.

“OK, time for a break!” he said.

“No!” she said. “We have to keep going.”

“If you keep going like this, you’re going to collapse, and then you’ll die, and a sandworm will eat you, and that’s my whole day gone. Sit down.”

“I don’t need to.”

She was going to give him grey hairs, she really was. He shook one hand like he was shooing a fly, and she stumbled backwards until she sat on the closest rock.

Lydia’s eyes bugged. “What am I – what are you –?”

“You’ve never been possessed before?”

She stood back up. He waved his hand again, and she sat.

“No, keep it up,” he said. “This is fun.”

He flicked his fingers, and her expression brightened.

“Beetlejuice, you’re my role model!” she said, in a tone much more chipper than any that had ever come out of her mouth, he was sure. He released her.

Lydia’s face soured like old milk mixed with lemon juice, and she made the fingers-down-the-throat gesture. “I’ll sit for five minutes. Don’t do that again.”

“I always knew I’d make a great babysitter!” He settled on the other side of the rock. He folded his hands over his stomach, figuring he’d take a nap if she stayed quiet.

She didn’t. “My mom would love all this,” Lydia said. “Her favorite holiday was Halloween. We’d make our own haunted houses in the garage – but in the summer, when no one in the neighborhood was expecting it. She liked the weird stuff in the world. Or – she likes the weird stuff in the world. She doesn’t just avoid it, like most people do. Like my dad does. I think she’ll like you, even.”

He wanted to make a face at the idea of a well-adjusted person liking him (though it was a nice feeling, deep in his black heart), but Lydia couldn’t see him, so it would be wasted effort.

She was quiet for a while, and he thought he was free to drift off to sleep.

“Um…do you have any food?” she asked.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handful of Zagnuts. He tossed the kid two. “Here ya go.”

“Why so many Zagnuts?” Lydia asked. “They’re good, but I didn’t think people ate these anymore.”

“It’s the only candy in the vending machines in the Netherworld.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because everything around here is at a baseline of low-grade crappiness. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Are you really supposed to spend eternity here when you die?” she asked, in a muffled way that told him she’d bitten off half a candy bar at once. “It seems like it should either be a whole lot better or a whole lot worse.”

“You aren’t supposed to spend eternity here; that’s the point,” he said. He popped a Zagnut into his mouth, and swallowed it wrapper and all. “You have to move on, eventually.”

“To what?”

“Do I look like a priest? Or a philosopher? Or a TV psychic?”

“The last one, a little. A bad one. The kind who gets tricked by reporters to help contact their dead kid, but it turns out the kid is really alive and just in the next booth over in the Denny’s.”

“Touché. The point is, nobody around here knows. You hang around the administrative area until you’re ready to go into the miserable nothingness of the Abyss, and then you swirl around in the Abyss until…I dunno, something else happens. Maybe you just stay in the Abyss forever. I don’t plan on finding out anytime soon.”

“Is that where my mom is?”

“Yup. If she didn’t come running when you first came through the door, she’s definitely gone through security. Don’t worry, though. You poke your head into the Abyss and shout her name a few times, and she’ll come right out.”

He lied easily. He always had.

“I’m just surprised she hasn’t tried to contact us,” Lydia said. “I guess she must be confused, because we moved and everything. My dad dragged me out to Connecticut, away from New York and all our friends and family, to work on this stupid gated community project he has in mind. And he took my annoying life coach with us. She’s friendly and positive, and keeps trying to make me fill out a star chart. I don’t know why he thinks she’s helping me. It’s not like there aren’t actual therapists in Connecticut. I don’t get it.”

He chewed another Zagnut for a beat, waiting to see if she was making a joke. Then he broke the news. “Your dad is boinking the life coach.”

“What?!” she said. She whirled around the rock to sit right next to him. “How can you know that?”

“Um, because I’m an adult with a brain.” He grabbed the top of his head and lifted his skull to show his grey matter.

“He isn’t…Dad’s not…” She slumped. “He’s totally sleeping with her.”

“Totally,” he agreed.

“How could he do that? Mom’s only been dead a few months. Well…when he sees Mom – if he just talks to her again – he’ll understand what an ass he’s been.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, non-committedly.

“How much farther do we have?” she asked.

“Long enough to aaaaaaalmost make you give up and collapse in despair.”

She groaned.

For a second, he thought her groan was superhumanly long and loud, and he prepared to be impressed. Then he noticed the ground was shaking.

“Looks like it’s our unlucky day!” he said. “Run!”

They both got to their feet, and made it about five steps before the sand exploded to their left. A sandworm rose from the earth, its black-and-white stripes blurring into grey. At the peak of its jump, its inner head came out of its mouth, eyes glaring, jaw snapping.

It dove back down toward them.

He dodged one way, and Lydia dodged the other. The spray of sand blocked out everything, and when it all cleared, the sandworm had risen from the ground again, undulating in and out of the dunes. Lydia stood in place, looking all around. But it was hard to know where to run when you were being attacked by a sandworm.

The sandworm’s chomping heads came out of the ground an arm’s length from Lydia. She yelled, and punched it in the closest eye.

The heads hissed and thrashed, knocking Lydia down. The sandworm dove down, and the sand around them whirled and roiled, until he felt like he was standing in boiling dirt.

When the sandworm rose again, it accidentally scooped up Lydia. She showed a little more survival instinct than she had before, and clung to the sandworm’s back.

“Knock it off!” he heard her say. She nudged the sandworm with her left boot, and the sandworm turned to the right. But it had had enough of its passenger, and whipped its body to throw Lydia like a beanbag.

She shrieked as she fell through the air. He stretched his legs, about 20 feet, and caught her.

As he dragged her back to the ground, he braced himself for another attack by the sandworm. Maybe if he transformed into something big and scary, showed some lionfish spines or extra limbs, the worm would leave them alone. Getting swallowed would be no good. Not only did he usually try to avoid getting eaten, but sandworms’ digested prey just wound up back in processing…after a wait of at least a decade or so.

The sandworm jumped over their heads, dove into the ground, and kept going. Its writhing body upset every dune it plowed through, but it didn’t double back.

He wasn’t going to look a gift worm in the mouth.

“And don’t come back!” he yelled. “G’on, git! Git!”

Lydia jumped out of his arms. “That was awesome! I thought I was going to die, but it was awesome.”

He was more tired than he’d been in a while. He was tired like Juno had been screaming at him for hours. Also, there was a lot of sand in his shoes. “You did OK But why the hell did you try to punch it in the face?”

She didn’t look ashamed in the slightest. “I thought it would be like avoiding a shark attack. That’s what the Discovery guy said during Shark Week: punch the shark hard in the eye so it leaves you alone.”

“Since when has punching something made it leave you alone?” he asked. “That has never worked when I’ve tried it with people.”

“Because then the shark – or the sandworm – thinks you’re too much of a threat and it ignores you. I made it go away, didn’t I?’

“I seriously doubt you’re what made it leave, Karate Kid. If a sandworm had its multiple hearts set on eating us, it would take more than your mechanical bull riding skills to dissuade it. I don’t know – I’m not so sure it was all that interested in us.”

“If it wasn’t going for us, why did it come over here?”

“I said I don’t know! I’m not a sandworm scientist.”

“Your hair is changing color,” she said, pointing at his head.

“Can you blame me? I’m pretty pissed off right now.”

She brightened. “It changes color with your mood?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I touch it?”

He grunted, and tilted his head. She patted some strands on the right side of his head, which were dark green at the tips, but probably working their way to red. The cocoon the caterpillar had made behind his ear popped open, and a death’s-head hawkmoth shot into the air and planted itself on Lydia’s nose.

“Augh!” she yelped, and fell right on her ass. He doubled over laughing while she tried to get back up with dignity.

“You’ve taken things too far this time, Beetlejuice!”

Once, just once, he’d like to go 48 hours without hearing those words shouted at him.

He turned to see Miss Argentina stomping up a sand dune, clipboard in hand, sash askew, which meant she was really really really upset.

“What have I done this time?” he asked, resigned.

“What have you done this time?” Miss Argentina pointed at Lydia. “Let’s start with child endangerment! And the fact that your disappearance has about given Juno apoplexy.”

“Ah, she loves me.”

“No! She just knows that if she hasn’t heard from you in twelve hours, it means you’re up to something! And that means the rest of us suffer! I’m just glad she gave me clearance to go to Saturn to look for your sorry, sagging ass, so at least I was able shoo a sandworm away from some newlydeads. I have a sneaking suspicion you bear some responsibility for that, too?”

“OK, that is both not fair and completely true,” he said. “And I’ll have you know I’m doing a good deed. I’m guiding this one around the Netherworld.” He jerked his head at Lydia.

“And why, in the name of all that is sacred, would you consider that a good idea?”

“Um…” He faltered. He may have been able to fudge a few details with Lydia, but Miss Argentina had been around long enough to know how the Abyss worked.

“Newlydeads…” Lydia said. “That must have been what attracted the sandworm. It wasn’t coming for us after all.”

“Why did you drag newlydeads with you?” he asked, happy to change the subject. “What, did you need help shouting at me? Anger backup singers?”

“Of course not.” Miss Argentina frowned. “But – that’s a good idea.” She clicked her pen, and scribbled on her clipboard. “I am actually writing that down. If Boy Inferno is free…”

“Excuse me!” came a woman’s voice from the bottom on the dune. “I’m so sorry – could you wait just a minute?”

“It’s very hard to walk on sand!” came a sexy, nasal male voice from the same direction.

“These newlydeads have a problem, you see,” said Miss Argentina, her voice icy. But something was wrong – she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on Lydia. “Apparently, a living person used their Handbook without permission.”

Lydia became interested in the horizon. “Huh. That’s weird.”

Miss Argentina jabbed a finger in Lydia’s face. “Oh, don’t even try that on me, living girl. I am not in the mood today.”

“Whoof! We made it.” The newlydead couple crested the dune…and he was smitten.

The woman was white, a pretty blonde, in a green wrap dress and suburban-mom-at-the-nice-grocery-store boots. Her companion was a beautiful Desi man, with light brown skin and a lock of black hair hanging over his forehead that he immediately wanted to run his fingers through.

“Oooooh…” he said. “Hello, sexy…”

Lydia looked at him with a scientific expression. “Which one?”

“The Trader Joe’s guardian angels over here. Not that Miss A isn’t pretty easy on the eyes herself, but she’s a friend of Ellen, know what I mean? A patron of U-Haul. An adopter of shelter cats. Wrong tree, is what I’m saying. But she loves me platonically.”

“She doesn’t,” Miss Argentina said.

The couple pushed past him and bent over Lydia.

“Oh, thank goodness!” the woman said.

“Lydia!” said the man. “I’m so glad we found you. We were worried sick!”

“Adam, Barbara?” Lydia said. “What…what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to go to the Netherworld.”

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #lydia deetz #fan fiction

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