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therealvikingstrash · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Of Sharp Teeth and Hunger

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Gore, Cannibalism, Smut, Character Death (I’m sorry, it’s plot relevant)

Edit 29/10/21: Moodboard and Dividers added. Some mistakes corrected. Story uploaded to AO3.

A/N: This got longer than I thought...and contains more angst than I intended...my sweet sweet emo boys, don’t hate them, they’re evolving xD well, some are. I’m just hoping y’all can live with the POVs xD inspired by this post from @serasvictoria

Words: ~ 7,733

Tagging: @serasvictoria @flowers-in-your-hayr @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @quantumlocked310 @ecarroll1978 @lisinfleur @comicsandcardigans @ritual-unions-gotme @jadelynlace @adrille88 @grimeundglow @b0nless @istorkyou @methotrex8 @kataphine

Queen Aslaug gave birth to four very different children. All of them were marked by the darkest fears the people of Kattegat could have. She hid their special traits of course, no one knew they weren't like other children...

You tried your best to obscure it all, especially from your husband on the rare occasions that he was there.

But sometimes Ivar would bite another child while playing and not know when to stop- too overwhelmed by the bloodlust sweeping him off his feet, though you knew he was just a child. It wasn't his fault, but you still guiltily closed your eyes when you heard a mother cry in mourning.

Your only luck was Hvitserk and Ubbe sticking together. Your oldest being a wolf- he'd made the cutest puppy on the full moons and he had loved cuddling up to Hvitserk in his crib on those nights. Their bond gave you hope that Hvitserk might just be a normal child back then, but the older he got, the clearer it became that he could lure in the townspeople without a problem.

One look and they would follow him blindly- into their secure death. An incubus of all things.

You thanked Odin for Ubbe, who smelled the people's interest in his little brother and growled lowly in his chest to scare them away.

He was a quiet child and an even quieter adolescent- until he got angry. You stayed with him every night of the full moon, making sure he wouldn't get out and hurt someone. You promised to let him hunt in the woods when he got older, but only in hushed voices, not wanting to alert his little brothers who would want to come with.

Sigurd had been a surprise for you, much like Hvitserk, not until he reached his thirteenth birthday had you known what coursed through his blood- the snake in his eye derailing you from your suspicion. The second he held the first fiddle, his music gathered man and woman alike around him- unable to turn away like in trance. He was too young for handling that and you quickly took it away again, telling him he was not to sing in front of other people and especially not around the shore. A Siren- unexpected for a boy.

When it came to Ivar, you were thankful to the Gods for their need in blood sacrifices. He could drink without anyone getting too suspicious of him and you wouldn't have to deal with getting rid of his victims bodies.

You swore yourself to never tell Ragnar about your sons. Too afraid of what he would do out of fear and what your sons would do to protect you. He was better off not knowing in your opinion.

Now with them all being of age- usually it meant they should find a wife and settle down, but they couldn't fall in love or even care enough to build a family. With each day, you felt that your power over them dwindled.

More and more people in Kattegat disappeared; leaving you, the Queen, with a heavy guilt you had to carry. "Mother." your youngest called out to you from the entrance.

"Yes, Ivar my love?" you answered, giving up where you are to him, as you sat in front of your mirror, carefully combing through your long and wavy hair. You were graced with a little Succubus blood in you, giving you the ability to turn heads where you wanted, but you rarely ever used it. You were lucky you were human enough to not have to feed on others.

"There hasn't been a sacrifice in four months, I don't want to feed on animals anymore!" he said and you had to turn around to see him, his face and body never showing in any reflection, except for his clothes.

"Don't act like you haven't been terrorizing the townspeople with your brothers already, they're terrified and don't want to be sacrificed since the Gods don't protect them." you chided him, pointing your comb at him in warning and he had enough common sense to look guilty.

"I'm sorry, mother."

You scoffed lightly, "Who is hunting with you?" you asked with narrowed eyes.

Ivar looked to the ground, not used to being chided by you. "Sigurd and sometimes Hvitserk, but we share."

"I don't even want to know what that means." you responded, a chill running down your spine. You'd never really been afraid of your children, but sometimes, when you thought too long about what they were capable of, there was fear gripping you nonetheless. "What about Ubbe?"

"He's mostly in the woods..." Ivar shrugged. "Sometimes Hvitserk is with him."

"You should all only hunt there!" you told him. "If the people start to get too afraid to live here, they will leave and who will you feed on then, hm?"

"I'm sorry, mother." he said again.

You turned back around and continued brushing your hair carefully. You knew he was still there but not seeing his face in the mirror made you feel uneasy.

Soon it would be dusk as you walked through the woods, your brother traipsing next to you in his wolf form. You liked him like that better, since his senses were even sharper and his pelt was soft under your fingertips.

Ubbe's nose was diving through the fallen leaves and you sighed. "Nothing?" you asked, earning a growl and you patted the space between Ubbe's ears. His wolf form was huge and you wondered if werewolves were bigger as normal wolves in general, or if Kattegat's population was just a smaller breed. If someone were to see Ubbe like this, they would want his pelt, no questions asked.

"I'm hungry," you whined, the human food not even coming close to sating you. It was like you were constantly eating without anything of it taking the edge of, until you could be yourself and consume someone's life force.

Ubbe perked up and looked in a particular direction. You were aware of a body of water being around somewhere, that people used to wash up sometimes. With a spring to your step you followed your brother- hopefully to find a meal at your destination.

It wasn't much farther and you could hear the voices of two men, laughing and bragging- you sighed in displeasure.

Your suspicion was confirmed when both of you broke through the underbrush. Two older men were bathing, causing you to pull a face in disgust. You didn't want those.

"You can have them." you told your brother, who looked back in question. "I don't like old men, they taste bad to me." you said, carding your fingers through Ubbe's thick fur at the back. A bad habit you can't manage to quit ever since you've been a child.

It wasn't your fault your brother had the softest wolf fur you'd ever had the pleasure of sinking your fingers into- it was addicting. Ubbe still looked at you and for a second you wondered if your wiles worked on him. You hadn't even currently thought about using them.

All of you had tested it already of course and you knew that neither Ivar was able to lure you in, nor Sigurd could make you drown yourself. You weren't afraid of Ubbe and your older brother didn't seem affected by you either. Though...you had never tested it while Ubbe was a wolf.

And you wouldn't do it now either. "Go, I like watching you tear them apart, but don't sully the water."

You hid behind a tree and watched your brother advance on his prey, how he waited in the shadows of low hanging tree branches until the men got out of the water.

They had no idea what was waiting for them- or who.

Holding your breath so you would be able to hear their bones break under the pressure of Ubbe's jaw, you watched your brother take the first one with him without the other one noticing.

The gurgling protests and exclaims for help rang to your ears and you swallowed the saliva flooding your mouth- fear tasted almost as good as arousal. You could see the other man getting suspicious and were ready to throw your axe to stop him, but Ubbe jumped out from behind the trees and caused the man to fall to his back, big paws holding him down by his chest as he growled in the man’s face.

"Wait!" you called out, stopping your older brother from tearing out his prey's jugular, when you remembered something. You reached for your empty water flask and held it up. "Let me take some blood for Ivar from him or he'll bitch again that we didn't take him with us."

"Don't kill me! You're one of the Ragnarssons, you can't do this!" the man begged and started to annoy you. Usually, you didn't use your wiles on these types of people, but it helped to make them docile, so you smiled and softly touched the man's cheek with the tip of your finger.

The change was instant, as he stared back as if in trance. "I'll do anything for you." the guy said softly, causing a smirk to form on your lips and when Ubbe gave off a quick huff, disapproving of what he most likely smelled on the man, it only widened.

"I know." You got your knife out and punctured the artery, swiftly holding the flask under it to gather as much as possible. You still managed to get too much on your hands and licked it off of one finger, only to grimace at the taste. "I don't like it." you commented and closed the flask. Ivar would love it. "Do you want a taste?" you held your sullied hands out to your wolfy brother, prompting him into licking them clean- not a drop was left. "Of course you do." you sighed, if only you could be a wolf too, then you wouldn't have to be so picky all the time.

The man was still bleeding out, but not for long, your older brother was already tearing into the man’s chest to get to the soft intestines. You got offered the spleen as it landed wet on the half open torso. "I don't want it." you told Ubbe, who nudged it closer to you with his snout, followed by a low whine. "No, I know you understand me, don't act like a stupid dog."

Sometimes Ubbe was too insistent to share with you and it was annoying when his prey had been one of these stinky old men. Another part was torn out and offered to you. "I will leave, if you don't stop. He's gross."

This time the whine ended in a protesting half growl and then Ubbe ate the guy without any pause. Devouring would probably be a better word though.

While Ubbe let the evidence disappear in eating them both, you washed the spit off your hands in the little riverbank.

You heard your brother pant behind you and turned, heaving another sigh. Ubbe's usually dark grey fur was glistening in red. It was fascinating how the only thing that would always stay the same were his eyes- blue like the summer sky.

"Are you going to bath now or later?" you asked, not even reaching the end of your question, when your brother jumped into the water in front of you, halfway turning back into a man. You watched him wash the blood out of his long blonde hair and once again wondered what it would be like to turn into a wolf instead of whatever abomination you changed into.

As far as you knew, you only looked scary to the people you were feeding on right before they died. "I envy you." you said quietly, a bit more to yourself than Ubbe.

"Why? You can make anyone follow you. I think that's useful." Your brother replied diplomatic as ever- of course he could hear you from there just fine.

"I can make them want to fuck me, yes. That's not the same." you responded, picking up a stone and turning it over. When you looked up again, you caught Ubbe's disapproving expression before he dropped it. "I know you hate it when I say this, but it's true."

"No, it's not. You don't even realize how you can manipulate people and have them do your bidding." your older brother replied as he got out of the water.

You frowned, but dropped your eyes back down to the river bank. "What do you mean?" you watched the little stone sink down to the ground again and when you looked back up, Ubbe was a wolf. "Thanks for elaborating." you rolled his eyes in annoyance. You got up from your crouched position, knowing you had to get to the hut for Ubbe's clothes and then back to Kattegat. "I just wish you would stop trying to share your dead old men with me." you said in an exhale, as you followed Ubbe.

Once you got to the hut, your brother turned back into a human- quickly dressing himself. You both walked side by side.

"I can't." your older brother suddenly said.

Somehow you felt lost, like you had missed a whole conversation. "Hm?"

"Offering part of my prey." he explained, "I can't stop it. When I'm a wolf my senses are heightened and I can almost feel your hunger like my own. My wolf wants you to eat. It's a basic need to provide for you. I'm sorry." Ubbe said, a distressed expression pulling on his features. It made a lot more sense, since you really were hungry all the time. It must've driven Ubbe crazy.

"It's okay."

Being around your younger brother sometimes made your teeth grow sharp with the need to tear into soft flesh. The ever growing hunger radiating from Hvitserk maddening enough for you to flee into the woods the majority of the time.

Your brother still found you of course and then it was almost impossible to not kill someone. You did bask in the proud look Hvitserk gave you when you ate though. He really did like to watch when you were tearing your victims apart.

The Great Hall was devoid of people now and you watched Hvitserk handing the flask full of blood over to Ivar. "Here, we came across someone."

Their youngest opened it and took a whiff. "Was it an old man again? At this rate we won't have any for a fight left."

"Mother said to stay away from Kattegat, it's unfortunate that only men walk the woods these days." Hvitserk replied, his disappointment about that clear in every word. "Women's blood is so much sweeter."

"You just want to fuck." Ivar scoffed, causing Hvitserk to laugh as he came over to sit next to you.

"Maybe," he said. "Can you fault me?"

Sigurd shook his head at them, "Yes." he said. "Your conquests and litany of corpses will lead their way to us. One of these days we'll be found out." It was pure assumption and in no way true, you knew.

"I'm not the one singing my heart out at the shore to watch our warriors die. That is really stupid, in my opinion." Hvitserk shrugged. You took a sip to hide your smile, agreeing with him. "Also, I eat my conquests when I'm done with them. There's no trail of corpses. And who cares about old men living in the woods? No one, but the young men and women you take? They will be missed."

Ivar licked his bloody lips after sipping from the flask. "Hvitserk's right. He only takes one or two a month, but you wreck entire longships and you're not even able to eat them all. It's a waste. If we're found out, it'll be your fault."

"Says the one constantly drenched in blood and hiding inside all day. Tell me how that's not suspicious," Sigurd fired back. Again, only an assumption. "Your constant need for sacrifices...how about sacrificing you?"

You watched Ivar's eyetooth grow longer, his iris all black as he hissed at Sigurd. "I should feast on you and be done with it!"

"And still, you wouldn't be able to get it up without drinking from another man. I should pity you." Sigurd countered. This time, he really did speak the truth. Ivar was dancing on the line between not really dead, but not alive either. He needed two men's worth of blood to feel warm like a human and be able to have sex. You had no idea how Sigurd knew that, since you never said anything and Ivar most likely hadn't either.

"I will rip your vocal cords out and watch you starve." your youngest brother stood, looming over the table and staring Sigurd down.

"Enough!" Aslaug reined them in. "None of you will hurt the other and you will stop talking about it now. If someone heard you, you won't be able to hide anymore." You nodded into your cup, wishing you could get drunk at all on this.

"Queen Aslaug?" a young servant girl called out to your mother after entering the Great Hall, instantly having all their attention turn to her at once. "We have prepared your bath now."

Your nails grew sharp, scratching the cup in your hand, as your mouth watered at her sight. She was beautiful and smelled perfect to you. The lush flesh of her round hips made you unable to stop staring. You couldn't have her, you knew that and still...

Hvitserk leaned over with a smirk. "You want her." he stated low as to not let their little brothers know. "I could make her come over, have her pour you another cup." he licked his lips. "I bet she'd taste heavenly."

At the mention of another drink, you put your hands down and out of sight to will your nails back to being blunt and human. "Stop it," you growled at Hvitserk. "This is what I meant, you manage to nudge me into a direction that will please you and I can't give into that."

A surprised look crossed your brother’s face, before it was replaced with glee. "It works on you?"

"Briefly..." you admitted, regretting it almost immediately when you saw the wide grin that met you. You'd never been afraid of anyone, but knowing you could be manipulated to do your little brother’s bidding- someone who would be able to kill you without an effort- was fear inducing.

The smirk slipped off his lips, probably able to tell how you felt about that, as it was clearly displayed on your face. Hvitserk put his arm around you in companionship, mouth close to your ear. "I won't use it against you." he promised quietly, before leaning away again. "Now...let's have some fun with mothers servant girl."

Your nails dug into the wooden arm rest of the chair and left deep corrugations.

You saw Ubbe and Hvitserk leave with Reidun- your mothers personal servant- and went to the shore to sing.

There was a man sleeping off his inebriation. Those, of all the others, were your favorites- their blood still rich of alcohol- giving you a chance to be drunk too. He woke to your song.

The shadowy figure was walking towards you, causing a smile to grow on your lips as anticipation set in, your teeth turning into a hundred deathly sharp pin pricks as you continued to sing.

That was until Ivar held the drunk back and stared deep into his eyes. "You want to go home now." using his vampiric powers to sway your meal away. On staggering legs he left, not looking back to you even once.

"What are you doing?" you spit in anger. "He was mine!"

Ivar was right in front of you in the blink of an eye, his own teeth long and pointy, "You took five only yesterday." he argued.

"Ubbe and Hvitserk are about to devour mothers servant and I'm not allowed to eat a drunk that no one will miss?" you replied, squaring up to your brother. If he wanted to fight, you would not hold back!

"How would you know? Mother could always say Reidun left Kattegat on her own accord- everyone would believe her!- but this man could have a family and they would notice his absence." Ivar responded, gripping the front of your tunic. "She told us not to hunt within Kattegat and you didn't listen at all."

"What about Ubbe and Hvitserk then? What about you? I know you visit the slaves and feed on them at night." you said, trying to push Ivar away. "Why should you all be an exception, but I can't?"

"Because we're not stupid about it!" Ivar hissed at you. "I don't kill the slaves, just take a sip. No one cares. You're the only one who risks everything here."

"Oh, shut up!" you yelled in anger, realizing too late that you made Ivar finally snap.

Despite Ubbe's reluctance, he followed you and Reidun willingly. She was completely under your spell, leading you to her home.

On quick feet she went straight to the oil lamps to alight the room when you all entered and Ubbe locked the door behind him.

When Reidun met you and your brother in the middle, you both circled her- out of curiosity what she would do you lifted your thrall over her a little.

She looked confused, but not repelled.

"Do you want to have some fun, Reidun?" you asked, letting your fingertips dance lightly up her arm and to her shoulder. You touched the exposed skin near her collarbone and retreated again.

She looked from one to the other, "With both of you?" a cute furrow between her brows.

Ubbe had stopped behind her, his mouth close to her ear, "Yes, both. Or one at a time. However you like." you heard him say seductively. Reidun turned her head to look at him, her pupils dilating as she gazed at Ubbe. When you moved closer to her, standing in front of Reidun, her head whipped back to you in surprise. You could feel the change in yourself without your doing, as she looked up. Moments later her expression turned dreamy.

Carefully you held her face in both hands and gazed into her green iris', feeling her sway closer to you like she couldn't help it. "Can I kiss you?" you asked, setting your voice to sound smooth as silk. She wouldn't say no.

"Hvitserk." Ubbe growled, reminding you that you were doing it again without intending to and effectively snapping you out of it. Sometimes your nature gets the better of you.

Her expression showed clearly that she suspected something strange was going on. Thankfully Ubbe brought her attention back to him. "Do you want to kiss one of us?" he asked, waiting for her decision.

Apparently she wanted your brother first and you couldn't really be mad at that. She was more likely to live longer with him. Ubbe always let you feed before he teared into them.

They parted from you, heading for the bed and you looked around to find a comfortable place to sit, when Reidun came back and took your hand to pull you with her.

You really tried to stay on your human side when she kissed you this time. Her lips sliding against yours, opening her mouth readily when you licked them slowly and with intent. Ubbe was only half dressed and already reclined on the bed as he watched you two. You herded her backwards onto her furs as she started to pull at your clothes.

It was second nature for you to undress other people, having her blue dress lying on the floor within seconds.

You saw the way Ubbe stared at her soft hips and couldn't stop yourself from grabbing her there. You knew exactly what he was thinking as you sank down to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed to lick her.

Ubbe had shed his pants now too and Reidun turned slightly to him when he got closer. She took his length without complaining while you kissed the inside of her thighs.

Women were your favorite not only because of their sweet blood, but their ability to orgasm more than once. And you needed that, your prey had to be close to coming for you to even see the soft hues of their life force engulfing them.

All you had to do was lick it off.

You dived between her legs, tongue rolling over her pink folds to taste and you sucked at them- not too much, just enough to make her moan around Ubbe's prick.

Then you found her nub to drive a lazy path around it with the tip of your tongue, flicking it up to draw another moan from her before sucking it in, playing with it. She squirmed in pleasure, letting go of your brother’s prick to mewl and throw her head back into the furs below.

When you inserted your fingers you smiled at how slick she felt and started pushing into her, knuckles deep. Your own cock twitched in your pants with the need to fuck her.

Easing up on the suction around her center of lust, you turned your head, sharp teeth cutting a thin line into her skin and you licked the little drops of blood welling up quickly away. You could feel your brother’s eyes on you- likely having smelled the blood.

You met his stare and knew your eyeballs were pitch black, when he held onto Reidun's head to prevent her from seeing you like that.

"You should fuck her." you said with a lisp, willing the deathly rows in your mouth to become humanly blunt again.

You stared at the lifeless body of your brother, so clear for you to see even in the darkness as the waves at the shore softly glided over the sand and grabbed greedily at the blood, swilling it away into the ocean.

The feeling you had was foreign to you and you were certain you'd cry if only you could.

Even thinking to drink from your own kin had always repulsed you enough to make you feel sick, but the fury Sigurd had sparked in you overtook everything else.

And suddenly you had found yourself taking long gulps of his blood, your brother’s eyes staring unseeing into space.

You hated him for angering you enough to do this and you hated your own inability to express your loss.

For a good portion of the night, you sat there, holding Sigurd and watching the blood you hadn't consumed trickle out of him and into the water.

There was no way of bringing him back and all you could do was accept what you've done to your own brother and act like you didn't care for everyone else.

You were a monster after all and monsters couldn't feel regret.

Reidun welcomed the change in your positions and gladly started sucking at your hard cock, enjoying the quick snap of Ubbe's hips between her legs.

You could see the rise of her life force engulfing her like a fog close to the skin. It was pale at first, but gained color the closer she got to her climax.

You had to swallow the upcoming saliva to stop it from dripping from your lips. All you wanted was to lick her everywhere and consume her.

Ubbe's hand reached for Reidun's bosom and for the first time you saw your brother’s energy dancing over his skin too. So much more vibrant than your mothers servant girls'.

You were curious what had changed that you now were able to see it too- taunting you with its beautiful colors. The best guess you got was that it had to do with Ubbe admitting you could sway him with your wiles.

Or maybe you had always been able to see, but refused to look earlier? It doesn't matter, you told yourself, even though the darkest part in you wanted to know what his life force would taste like. It felt like being a moth drawn to light and you were well aware of what happened to those.

You slipped out of Reidun's mouth and moved to lick a line down her throat, knowing that feeding on her would take your mind off of those thoughts and still your hunger.

She was moaning incomprehensible words, while you mapped her torso in a wet path with your tongue, down to her unoccupied breast.

You heard Ubbe growl and knew he was close to his climax, Reidun's whole body shaking under the force of his thrusts now. His nails had grown pointed and he involuntarily pricked the soft skin around her tit with them.

Without a second thought you leaned over there to clean up the little wounds he'd left, the urge to take a real bite growing stronger. You heard your brother grunt, his breathing heavy and you knew he'd come as the movement stopped.

A side effect from feeding had your victims delirious and sometimes unconscious at some point. Reidun was still with you, but probably unable to catch onto a conversation.

Ubbe's hand grabbed your face harshly, his palm effectively closing over your mouth. "Don't kill her." he forbade you, apparently able to see what you had in mind.

He couldn't have known about your previous predicament and having your lips flush to his skin made it almost impossible to ignore. You told yourself it wouldn't be that bad to only touch his palm with the tip of your tongue- as an accident.

It was the dumbest thing you've ever done you realized as you caught Ubbe's scandalized look, who took his hand away from you instantly. You wondered if he had felt that you took something from him.

"I thought you grew out of being childish." your brother commented, wiping his hand on his torso and you breathed a sigh of relief at how oblivious he was. You took his former position between her legs when he stood up and got dressed.

If you weren't to kill Reidun, you would at least empty your balls deep in her too. And possibly take a bit of her energy again, even though you weren't feeling hungry anymore.

She wouldn't feel great tomorrow, probably even be sick for a few days, but it would pass the longer you left her alone.

The moment Ivar walked into your bed chambers you knew something had happened and you looked at him in waiting, finishing your work.

"Sigurd is gone." he told you, voice ice cold. "He endangered us one too many times and I took care of it."

You were glad you've sat in your favorite chair, busy thumb knitting socks for the upcoming winter. The feeling of loss washed over you like a heavy wave intending to drown you in sorrow.

He must've noticed the change in you. "I'm sorry, mother." Ivar said as the first tear fell from your eyes. His words didn’t matter to you, he couldn’t feel truly sorry for what he did.

"Leave me be," you told him, unable to even look his way. You've lost one of your babies, you had to grief. "I don't want to see you."

You heard him drag his feet, but the door closed once he was out of the room. You screamed the grief you felt out of you, throwing the bronze cup sitting on the little table next to you against the wall and watched the ale drip down from it.

Once again you despised yourself for being the reason your children had to be such monsters. If only you hadn't inherited it yourself, they could've been normal and happy children.

You were enjoying the company of your brothers late at night in your wolf form. Your head was lying on Hvitserk's legs as he patted you between the ears absentmindedly. You still had to get used to the quietness Sigurd left behind.

"I know mother said we can't fall in love, but do you think we can love?" Hvitserk asked you and Ivar, who pulled a face at him while you thought about it. "If we like a person." he specified.

"Why would you like a person? They're human and weak." Ivar replied like it was obvious. And you regretted not having turned back for this, if only to tell him to shut up.

"Are you telling me, you don't love mother or us?" Hvitserk asked, his face pulled into a frown. "What's stopping you from eating us then?"

"Common sense." Ivar sniffed. "You all wouldn't taste good to me."

Hvitserk hummed, sinking his long fingers into the thicker part of your neck. "You would know, after killing Sigurd." he said with fake casualty. "I guess you don't care about us then, only using us as you see fit." he sighed. "What about you?" Hvitserk asked, pulling playfully at your ears and you flicked them out from between his fingers.

Your brother was waiting for an answer, but you didn't feel like being human would make this conversation any less painful. So you stood and since Hvitserk had almost sunken down so low in his chair that he might as well lie in it, you towered over him. His eyes growing big and unsure about what you were about to do.

You panted with your mouth open, the only way you could smile in this form and you wanted him to know he fucked up with his question as you licked his face generously- you knew he hated that.

Ivar snorted. "I could've told you he loves you," he said haughtily, touching the place between your shoulders. "Your loyal little lapdog." You growled at him for even daring to say this.

"Shut up, Ivar, you're just jealous." Hvitserk said while drying his face with the seam of his tunic- a disgusted grimace on his face.

That drew a laugh from your youngest brother. "Of his dog spit? I'll pass gladly on that," Ivar replied, a wide and mean smile on his face. "The question was never if he loves you, but if you're able to love him or us. We all know you're a sex demon, Hvitserk. There's no room in you for inculpable love."

When you looked at Hvitserk you could see that Ivar had hit a nerve and your youngest wasn't done yet.

"Ask yourself if you would feel any remorse if we died, if it would anger you." Ivar shrugged. "I won't and you're not even mourning Sigurd." With that he left the room and you lay back down, pushing your nose against your brother’s belly.

Hvitserk sighed and hesitated before continuing to pat you. "I don't think it's that easy."

The arrival of your mother was no surprise to you, since you had heard her gait approaching a long time before the door was opened. "Hvitserk...how often do I have to tell you that he's not a dog, he's your brother." she said disapprovingly.

You didn't really see the problem she had with it. Both of you liked those innocent touches and you made a protesting sound when Hvitserk stopped under her watchful eyes.

"Ubbe, I would like to have you around as a human more often. You're always either in the woods or here as a wolf. I miss talking to my oldest." she said with a woeful expression and apparently couldn't resist touching the top of your head. It made her hypocritical in your eyes, even though you liked it.

You loved both of them- had loved Sigurd too- and even Ivar, but you would never say it out loud.

"I heard the townspeople talk," your mother started then. "Someone saw you in the woods and they are out to hunt. So please stay human and with us for a while," she pleaded. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Her worry was understandable, just having lost one of her children.

"He won't, you know they have to use silver blades to cut him. Or Wolfsbane to poison him." Hvitserk told her. "And they have no idea what they're hunting."

"Just stay in for a bit. Both of you," Aslaug replied. "I know you are not immune to human weapons." she directed at your brother.

"Of course, mother."

The second she turned her back on you, his hands sunk back into your fur. Sometimes you wished to stay a wolf forever and not to have to deal with human problems anymore.

The darkness around you was not as soothing as usual, but you couldn't go anywhere else during the day either. Your room was devoid of windows, except for one, that you only opened at night to let fresh air in.

Your chambers had their own little hallway, so your family could come in without letting any sunlight touch you.

The knock was still a surprise, when you heard it. Your mother hadn't wanted to see you after Sigurd's death and Ubbe seemed to be a little mad at you for calling him a lapdog.

That had been three weeks ago and the silence between you all drove you a bit insane. "Come in."

To see Hvitserk slip through the door was not what you'd expected. "You hungry?" he asked and you could smell the blood he had with him.

Usually you would feed a little every night, but ever since Sigurd, you didn't feel particularly like eating. "No..."

Your brother sat down on the wooden box you normally slept in, although today you sat on the floor leaning against it. "I know what you mean." he said and you frowned at him.

Hvitserk was always hungry, Ubbe had told you about it a long time ago. "Why not? How many did you take?"

"None," he answered, your frown only deepening and you saw his expression turn guilty. "I haven't fed on anyone in the last three weeks."

You instantly felt bad for accusing him not to mourn Sigurd, he obviously did. "I didn't want to kill him," you told him. "I'm sorry."

This time your brother looked in your general direction with a puzzled face. "What are you talking about?"

"Sigurd..." you answered like it was obvious.

"Odin have mercy," Hvitserk sighed, irritated. "Ivar, I'm not sad." he told you. "I did something really stupid."

You looked at your older brother and noticed the despair in his features. "And what did you do?" you wanted to know, watching him bite hard on his lower lip.

"I fed on Ubbe." he quietly admitted, causing you to stand up immediately. "He doesn't even know."

You were torn between lighting a candle to make it easier for him to see you and leaving it like this. The darkness obviously made him feel secure enough to say this.

"Hvitserk...how can he not know?" you asked, "I've seen you eat, that's not something you won't notice." You walked around your room, as your brother brought his legs up to hug his knees.

"He told me not to kill Reidun," he responded, "And held my mouth shut with his hand," Hvitserk shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't resist licking his palm."

"You liked it." It was a little hypocritical for you to say this in such an accusing tone. Hvitserk still confirmed with a guilty nod. "The question still remains how he didn't realize what you did?"

"He thought I was being childish," Hvitserk answered. "But Ivar...even this small taste I got was pure energy...I can't even eat if I try."

"Huh." you voiced your astonishment and thought it over. "Do you think it's because he's a Werewolf?"

"I don't know," your brother answered. "I don't even understand why I could suddenly see his energy ripe for the taking. That had never happened before." he said, distressed. "I just know if I were to take more, I wouldn't have to eat for at least a year if not longer."

You swallowed at this revelation and it turned quiet between you. "I enjoyed drinking from Sigurd."

"We're both sick." your brother said. "We truly are monsters."

You agreed, but didn't tell him how much you regretted it. "You should be truthful with Ubbe."

"Maybe."

The day of the full moon Ubbe lay on his belly and napped next to your fathers throne you currently occupied. Your mother was sitting next to you, when two men entered- berserkers.

"Queen Aslaug," one of them said with a nod to her. Ubbe had opened his eyes and was watching them cautiously, now in a sitting position a little closer to you. "We have been searching the woods for a wolf terrorizing the people who dare to enter it." he explained. "We didn't find him."

At this, they both looked at Ubbe. "A nice dog you got there, boy." the other one smirked.

You stood, your hand near your sword. "I'm not a boy, you will address me by my proper title as a son of King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug," you said, gritting your teeth. "And he's not a dog."

"How much for him....Prince?" The mocking pause sets you on edge. "His pelt looks big enough to fit over my shoulders."

You drew your sword and sneered, "You wouldn't be able to afford it." Ubbe growled behind you. "I advise you to leave."

The guards outside had entered too for back up, if they wouldn't leave on their own accord, but you hoped they would. "Not without the wolf, we know it's him." the dark haired said. "He fits the description."

You heard Ubbe walk up to your side, sensing where this was going. "That's a coincidence, nothing more."

The blonde shrugged, "I still want his pelt, even if it's not the one, it’s still a wolf."

"Guards!" your mother called out and they advanced, she quickly retreated to safety as the dark haired attacked you.

You parried his hits with the axe easily and then tried to land some strokes with your sword.

They were experienced warriors of course and you realized you had to play dirty to win. Once you were face to face with him, both your weapons crossing you tried to use your wiles to distract him.

It didn't work, which confused you and he seemed to notice. "What are you trying to do, hm?" his tone mocking. "We know what you are, demon."

One of the guards fell to the ground, the other held themselves still good against the berserker. "I'm not a demon." you argued, losing your strength.

The man laughed, "And he's not a Werewolf." he said with a nod to Ubbe. This set your brother into motion, attacking the man you were fighting.

"No! Stay away from him!" you called out, the bad feeling you had only being confirmed when Ubbe bit the berserker’s arm and immediately retreated with a whine.

"Coated in Wolfsbane," the man smiled, then took you by surprise as he lifted his axe again. This was it, you were going to die and so was Ubbe. You wished you had told him at least once that Ivar was wrong. You did love your brothers and mother. Closing your eyes was the only thing you could do.

The axe never reached you though and when you looked again, the panic still tingled in your fingers as you took in the scene in front of you. Ubbe had jumped in front of you and the berserker’s axe was sticking out of his back.

Someone else had entered and was fighting against them with the last standing guard. You sank to your knees and pulled the axe out, "You absolute moron." You chided him, patting his head, "They know what you are."

When you looked up, you saw that the man helping you was none other than Bjorn. As quickly as he had appeared, the fight was settled. The men both were bleeding out on the floor of the Great Hall, but you couldn't feel happy about it, since Ubbe's wound didn't heal like usual.

You bowed down to lean your head against his, hiding the tears that welled up. "I love you, brother." you said in a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear.

Bjorn was searching the men and then left the room, before he came back and crouched down next to you. "Give him this." he told you, a cup with a weird concoction in hand.

You had no idea how he could've known, but you did as he told you and made Ubbe drink it.

Not long after feeding it to him, you could see the wound on his back closing and Ubbe slowly started to move. "How did you know?" you asked, directing big eyes at your half-brother.

"Those men tried to capture me too and I've followed them for a while now." Bjorn said, standing straight up again. "Where's your mother?"

"Probably with Ivar," you answered and saw him walk towards the rooms, "But you can't go in there now!" you called out, causing him to stop. Your half-brother watched the remaining guard carry out the corpses and then turned back to you.

"What is he?" he wanted to know and you swallowed. "And what are you?" he added, sniffing the air.

"A Vampire." you answered. "And I'm an Incubus." Bjorn pulled a surprised face at that.

"Sigurd?" he frowned, looking around the Great Hall. You looked down, still missing the tunes he would play to entertain you.

"He's dead." you answered at last, catching Bjorn's nod. He looked uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Are you a wolf too?" you asked, feeling jealousy try to sink its claws in you.

"No," your oldest brother answered. "A bear, but our father is a Werewolf." he answered and then proceeded to get himself something to drink.

Ubbe puffed out a breath to get your attention. "Guess mother can stop feeling guilty now." you said a little to yourself, when a quick rough tongue licked at his wrist. "Don't make me regret saving you, you gigantic fur ball."

If anything this day had shown you that you were able to love your kin and that meant you could maybe fall in love too.

This turned out NOTHING like I planned. Maybe I need to write something else with them as mythological creatures...*sigh* maybe modern day..or maybe I finish the other ones first xD

If this was a disappointing read to you, I’m sorry. 💖

#vikings #mythological creature au #aslaug sigurdsdóttir #hvitserk lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #ivar lothbrok #sigurd lothbrok #bjorn ironside #ubbe the wolf #incubus hvitserk #Vampire Ivar #siren sigurd #bear bjorn #aslaug with washed down succubus genes #idek #wolf ragnar

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count-doodoo · 1 year ago

Text

i love this???? any and all excuses to make dooku sing and/or involve excess amounts of bright colors in his life are A++++

also, undercover road trip of self-discovery??? a fave trope and i'm loving it here

lines beneath the cut!

It’s the tenth day and Dooku is still alive. --- curious why he decided to run? but i love this opening

He likes to see himself in the news, preferably in medium shot, three-quarter view. Whoever at HoloNet News specializes in him has a knack for picking pretty shots. --- XD oh dooku... lmao at ex-sith dooku is still being Like That. we stan one (1) pretentious asshole (affectionate)

(that's a lie. we stan multiple pretentious assholes)

At a remote outer-rim trading outpost, he purchases a fancy blue robe, has his hair dyed dark and his ship painted neon spinach green. --- this image is incredible and i love it. would make fanart if that was within my abilities

Dooku’s heart shoots into his throat, but the boy continues: “My friends will never believe I’ve met Keskala Durne.” --- hahahhaa yes it's a crack take but i love it and honestly it's not entirely unrealistic

He goes for two wild spaghetti squiggles because he has no idea how to spell that name. --- MOOD. dooku has never been so relatable

Back in his ship, he starts the audiochip and searches the HoloNet for Keskala Durne (actually spelled Cesca Ladone) who makes his living writing poetry on socks. --- BAHAHHAHA i love this. sock poet with unpronouncable name. iconic

Dooku would never cut hearts into his sideburns, not even for disguise. --- A SOCK POET WITH HEARTS IN HIS SIDEBURNS. this fic is a GOLDMINE. y'all might get fanart from me despite my lack of artistic abilities because these mental images are just too good

Dooku opens the bottle of wine he stole from Sidious’ secret stash as his last official act. --- lmao XD oh dooku. "last official act" bahahha

Are medical droids in bio-reserve hatcheries up to date on the whereabouts of the Republic’s enemies? --- LMAOO

How long has it been since he last visited a hatchery for endangered species? He knows. Almost five decades. Half a lifetime. --- this is simultaneously so sad/nostalgic and nerdy. love.

Yan Jinn. --- is yan his actual name in this verse? also jinn D:

“I wish to adopt her,” he says. --- picking up pathetic lifeforms huh mr. jinn? 6.o

It takes forty-two days for Dooku to be seriously tempted to play out his identity as Head of State of the Confederacy and powerful Sith Lord. It makes no sense that snakes aren’t allowed in the hot springs, but Thisspiasians are. --- oh dooku.... about to blow his cover over snakes not being allowed in hot springs... an icon

The snake hides somewhere in a ventilation shaft. “Come out,” Dooku beckons her, “I’m opening the wine. We’re having a family gathering.” --- lmaoo

Dooku, engrossed in his four-dimensional crossword puzzle, startles. “No, it is not.” --- FOUR DIMENSIONAL CROSSWORD??? i can barely do 2d. but then dooku is smarter than me (at least when he's not deciding to become a sith lord)

The front page shows a holoimage of Dooku (medium shot, three-quarter profile, an air of nobility; his admirer at HoloNet News doesn’t disappoint). --- i'm glad he can maintain this dignity in "death" of getting his medium shot 3/4 profile (✿◡‿◡)

With his long beard, his sunglasses and colorful linen pants, the guests in the small beachside tapcaf don’t recognize him. --- once again this image is so good

“If you want to turn your little con into a lucrative sideline, I suggest you better remember the faces of the people you sit next to,” Dooku says. --- i love the "oh PLEASE be BETTER at robbing me" energy. reminds me of uncle iroh from atla teaching the mugger how to threaten him better

She’s probably in her mid-twenties, too old to run away; at her age, it’s called something else. Sometimes he wonders if all the father figures in the galaxy share the same blind spot. --- D: D: D: this hits me where i live

“Why does that even matter? Why do they always think it matters she was brave? She left anyway.” --- ohhhh poor bb

Eighty-one days: Dooku is in a permanent state of dead-but-not-quite, and he’s simultaneously turning deader and aliver every day. --- i love this??? that count dooku is dead and yan jinn or whatever he's calling himself is now Living Life

The sun is at its zenith, devouring all the shadows without mercy. --- i really love this imagery, because it kind of portrays the light as the merciless and the dark as that which is being consumed?? which makes a lot of sense for Yan Jinn, ex-jedi, kind-of-ex-sith

He has a few painful memories of how he used to correct his clan members because the wrong lyrics they came up with were even dumber than the real ones. --- this is So Dooku. Peak Dooku

The man sitting across from Dooku bursts into tears. Understandable. For some songs, there should be a law banning them from being remixed. --- XD that's probably not why they're crying. but this is a very very dooku take (and also very relatable slkfjsdlkf)

Later, when he returns to his ship, he catches himself mumbling the lyrics—the wrong ones, always the wrong ones. They’re more infectious than the original. --- i don't know /why/ this feels emotional, but it does.

“Free candy!” someone yells, and Dooku vaguely registers the paper bag with something warm, sweet-smelling that is thrust into his hand. --- lol i don't think child dooku would've been super into free candy, and Old dooku even less so

The Force is a blaze of joy, with a bloody wound gaping in the place where Dooku’s former brothers and sisters used to shine. The war is over, people cheer, yet all Dooku feels is Lights dying and fading. --- this makes me even more curious about why dooku abandoned the war, and how the war ended. was there some o66? (what the fuck is palpacreep doing with these developments?)

“Hey,” the Jedi calls after him. --- so they're not all dead, then

The Jedi smiles sadly. “You lost something,” he says, holding up one of the holobooks Dooku bought earlier. Since both of Dooku’s arms are occupied, he places the holobook on top of the cage. “Cute mice. Need a hand with your luggage?” --- this is so soft?? so warm and kind. but it also feels so sad, because there's so much distance between dooku and the jedi

Why are you all so damn gullible, Dooku thinks with desperate disgust. --- yeah this also hurts. idk how the war ended in this universe, or how much dooku knows about how the war was /meant/ to end per palpacreep's design, but...

Which wonder of the galaxy should he visit, out of the ones that haven’t blown up yet? --- love how conscious he remains of the wonders blowing up XD

tl;dr --- loved this. soft and sad. even though there's no otp, i think road trips are just as good for introspective character study kind of content as they are for otp content. <3 <3 <3 <3

Most Nigh to Tears and Memory

Dooku decides it’s about time he starts living his best life. Songfic, originally written for the march prompt “road trip” for YOTP2023, but it ended up being genfic. 2720 words.

It’s the tenth day and Dooku is still alive. The news doesn’t even report his disappearance; Sidious is most likely pulling all the strings to cover it up as long as possible. Dooku is relieved, but also a bit disappointed. He likes to see himself in the news, preferably in medium shot, three-quarter view. Whoever at HoloNet News specializes in him has a knack for picking pretty shots.

At a remote outer-rim trading outpost, he purchases a fancy blue robe, has his hair dyed dark and his ship painted neon spinach green. He buys an audiochip that promises “two hundred and twenty of the galaxy’s most moving arias, from excruciating to exhilarating.”

“Hey, can I have your autograph?” asks the little boy standing behind him in the checkout line.

Dooku’s heart shoots into his throat, but the boy continues: “My friends will never believe I’ve met Keskala Durne.”

Relieved (but also disappointed), Dooku signs the boy’s hand. He goes for two wild spaghetti squiggles because he has no idea how to spell that name. The boy grins at his hand. “Wizard!”

“Definitely not,” Dooku grumbles.

Back in his ship, he starts the audiochip and searches the HoloNet for Keskala Durne (actually spelled Cesca Ladone) who makes his living writing poetry on socks. Also, he doesn’t look like Dooku at all, not even with the dyed hair. Dooku would never cut hearts into his sideburns, not even for disguise. But for now, it’s better to be mistaken for a sock poet than a murderous Sith.

Dooku opens the bottle of wine he stole from Sidious’ secret stash as his last official act. He already dreams of seeing the Twenty Wonders of the Galaxy. Outside, the stars rush by aimlessly. In my soul, the sleeping flame that you sowed an eternity ago is finally ignited! The small spaceship trembles with dramatic orchestral music bursting from every speaker. That sublime love, the love of freedom—of freedom—of freedom! the baritone cries out with all his soul, and Dooku hums along softly.

On the seventeenth day, Dooku is bitten by a snake. Its black scales shimmer like oil and two red eyes burn on the skin of its neck hood. “Don’t make such a fuss,” Dooku says to the medical droid, who sprays his wrist with ice-cold bacta. He wants to explain that he can use the Force to neutralize just about any extrinsic poison, but the droid might recognize him. Are medical droids in bio-reserve hatcheries up to date on the whereabouts of the Republic’s enemies? As the droid fusses over him, Dooku looks around the room. Incubators everywhere, lots of writhing, swarming and crawling. How long has it been since he last visited a hatchery for endangered species? He knows. Almost five decades. Half a lifetime.

“I’ll administer the antidote immediately,” the droid chirps, pausing only briefly as his data-brain searches for the name Dooku gave him, “Yan Jinn.”

Yan Jinn. Dooku stares at the misbehaving snake curled up in a cage next to him. The snake stares back. Her eyes are blue: deep and old as the sky. “I wish to adopt her,” he says.

Space is cold. The snake prefers to lie in his lap while he reads and sips his wine. Sometimes she bites his wrist. It never changes his blood levels. “I’ll keep you anyway,” Dooku mutters. She coils around his neck, which he takes as a sign of affection. The loud, pompous arias frighten her, so Dooku puts on a cycle of peaceful folk songs he bought on his last planet and sings quietly to her:

Gone is the sweet fragrance of the night flowers

Already the tree loses its crackling golden dress

Wearily my head rests on its cold roots

The autumn in my heart is coming to an end ...

The snake is a good listener.

It takes forty-two days for Dooku to be seriously tempted to play out his identity as Head of State of the Confederacy and powerful Sith Lord. It makes no sense that snakes aren’t allowed in the hot springs, but Thisspiasians are. Dignified, Dooku struts out of the resort and heads to the nearest distillery instead. The supply he has pilfered from Sidious is starting to dwindle anyway.

Three hours later, he’s in high spirits. Literally. “Four, no, five more bottles of the nut brandy. And three of the spiced bofa liqueur as well.” He fumbles for his credits. The snake has fallen asleep with her head buried under his collar.

“I’ll load them into the transport speeder with the wine,” the small Sullustan says politely. “I hope your ship isn’t too far from here?”

Dooku tries to remember where he parked his ship.

“Might I recommend you take more than five bottles of the claret, Mister Jinn?” the Sullustan says. “It’s also an ideal gift for family gatherings.”

Dooku is laughing. “I have no family.”

Bumbling, his ship rises into the sky. After blindly typing whatever coordinates into the computer, Dooku inserts an audio chip with jazz music. Happy, lilting melodies fill the lonely cabin. Dooku feels strangely light-headed. Probably just the alcohol. He turns up the volume. Lost in space but never alone, he sings along, falling through a wormhole back to the place where something still waits for us. Catch my hand ...

The snake hides somewhere in a ventilation shaft. “Come out,” Dooku beckons her, “I’m opening the wine. We’re having a family gathering.”

But the snake is nowhere to be seen.

“Is this seat taken?”

Dooku, engrossed in his four-dimensional crossword puzzle, startles. “No, it is not.”

The man sits down in the chair next to him, stretches out his feet in the soft sand, unpacks a datapad and loads the HoloNews. The front page shows a holoimage of Dooku (medium shot, three-quarter profile, an air of nobility; his admirer at HoloNet News doesn’t disappoint). Dooku tries to read the headlines. In the glaring midday sun, he can barely make out the words. Count Dooku Rumored to Have Passed Away; General Grievous: Is He Next? Eighty-one days, and he’s finally dead. With his long beard, his sunglasses and colorful linen pants, the guests in the small beachside tapcaf don’t recognize him. Dooku has a firm grip on their minds: they look at him and just as quickly forget him.

So has the man. Like yesterday, he scrolls through the news too quickly for Dooku to read along. Dooku already has him figured out. A datapad as a prop, routinely polite, orders “just give me whatever” (he gets the same Novablaster as Dooku). He drinks way too fast for this time of the day.

“If you want to turn your little con into a lucrative sideline, I suggest you better remember the faces of the people you sit next to,” Dooku says.

The man lowers his datapad. “Have we met?”

“Yesterday.”

“Oh really?”

“You left without paying.”

“I did?” He turns pale, which only makes his dark stubble stand out more.

Dooku takes a sip of his Novablaster and watches him squirm. He should cut this conversation short and make him pay for both of their drinks. It would be less of a risk. His face is all over the morning news.

Instead, he takes off his sunglasses. “Don’t worry,” he says and finds himself smiling, “I paid your bill.”

The man averts his eyes. “I am so sorry—”

“Oh, don’t be,” Dooku reassures him, voice deadly gentle. A simple, childlike joy bubbles in his stomach, the kind he usually feels only after several glasses of wine. “It’s of no consequence.”

At his polite words, the man cowers in his seat. “I’m truly sorry. It wasn’t intentional ... I just wasn’t paying attention to you, uh ...” He gropes his glass, opening and closing his fingers around it. His gaze darts over the chairs and tables and palm trees like he’s looking for an escape, and his shoulders slump. In a single gulp, he drains his cocktail.

“My daughter.” He presses a button on his datapad and slides it across the table. “Her name is Laidi. I’ve been looking for her for two days. She ran away.”

She doesn’t resemble him. Probably adopted. Laidi has strawberry blonde hair and a face full of freckles that she turns away from the camera as if she doesn’t want to be in the picture. Dooku feels a twinge of anger, perhaps towards her father for forcing her, perhaps towards her for being so ungrateful. She’s probably in her mid-twenties, too old to run away; at her age, it’s called something else. Sometimes he wonders if all the father figures in the galaxy share the same blind spot.

“It’s all been so difficult lately.” The man lifts his glass, realizes it’s empty, puts it back down. “Her mother ... We didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. They told us she fought bravely.” Now he looks Dooku in the eye. No fear, no shame; just the hesitant hope that comes with accepting a gift from a stranger. “Why does that even matter? Why do they always think it matters she was brave? She left anyway.”

Above Laidi’s picture, the news ticker is still flickering. BREAKING NEWS ON THE WAR! Count Dooku Surmised Dead. Search for General Grievous Continues. Is the War at Its End? He would like to tell the man that of all the ways to be dead, being dead as a casualty of war might not be the worst. Eighty-one days: Dooku is in a permanent state of dead-but-not-quite, and he’s simultaneously turning deader and aliver every day. All he wants to do is get drunk, listen to old music, and work through his bucket list of the Twenty Wonders of the Galaxy that he hasn’t visited yet (or that haven’t blown up yet). He should have cut the conversation short and just make the man pay for their drinks. “My condolences.” He leans back, shoulders stiff. “We all hope this war will end soon.”

“It wasn’t the war,” the man says. “She was very sick, you know. She was very sick and didn’t tell us.”

The sun is at its zenith, devouring all the shadows without mercy. In Dooku’s glass, the ice cubes slowly shrivel away, their former edges round and dull. Instead, an ice cube forms in Dooku’s throat. He wishes he was drunk. In front, at the bar, a band starts playing. Some silly modern dance song, very loud. Three, two, one—this is your final countdown, a lady in a red dress sings, the electronics pitching her voice to unnatural heights. Three, two, one—last chance for take-off. Yeah-ha-ha! Ah-wah! Ah-ow! Something stirs in Dooku’s mind. It’s not a modern song, but merely a remix that has been around since his youth. He has a few painful memories of how he used to correct his clan members because the wrong lyrics they came up with were even dumber than the real ones. Hold, hold, hold my hand, face the music, speak your words, dance, dance, dance! This is your final chance!

But out of the two dozen guests in the tapcaf, none is in the mood to dance. The man sitting across from Dooku bursts into tears. Understandable. For some songs, there should be a law banning them from being remixed. Trust people to make a bad thing worse.

The song claws its way into his head and gets stuck. Later, when he returns to his ship, he catches himself mumbling the lyrics—the wrong ones, always the wrong ones. They’re more infectious than the original.

Dooku has checked off four of the Twenty Wonders of the Galaxy when the end of the war is declared.

He stands in the middle of the bustling Neeki Spaceport, in a dense crowd of travelers, all of them staring at the holoscreens on the walls where Palpatine is smiling down at them with fatherly affection. They cheer. The woman next to Dooku cries. Two men hug each other. A Wookiee wraps his hairy arms around Dooku and roars before strangling another innocent victim. “Free candy!” someone yells, and Dooku vaguely registers the paper bag with something warm, sweet-smelling that is thrust into his hand. The Force is a blaze of joy, with a bloody wound gaping in the place where Dooku’s former brothers and sisters used to shine. The war is over, people cheer, yet all Dooku feels is Lights dying and fading.

Dazed, he makes his way through the crowd, a bag of holobooks under his arm, a steel cage full of squeaking mice in his hand. His feet are moving, the world around him is slowly consumed by black mist. Cold sweat gathers beneath his tunics. He refuses to be sick, not now, not here. The war is over. He left his blood meter in the ship, buried at the bottom of some drawer, because just like the news, it never tells him anything he doesn’t already know. A dark brown robe jostles him. Brief eye contact: a near-human male, green-blue eyes, searching, alert. Dooku lowers his gaze, hurries on.

“Hey,” the Jedi calls after him.

He bumps into a Noghri family, engaged in an intimate orgy of hugs. Dooku lifts his purchases and the cage and makes his way forward, knocking one of the Noghri over.

“Hey, stop!”

“Drinks for everyone!” hollers a drunken spaceport officer. “Rejoice!”

Dooku flees into a less crowded corridor of a side terminal. Someone grabs his shoulders. He whirls around, sparks flashing under his skin.

Dooku stares at him, hoping he’s not one of the younglings he has taught. It can’t be—he would still remember Dooku. He wouldn’t forget so easily. He would recognize him, dyed hair and thin face and silly new name notwithstanding. There’s something familiar about the Jedi, but it might just be the subdued flame burning in the Force.

“I’m on my way to Coruscant,” the Jedi elaborates. “We’ve all been called back to the Temple.” His mouth curves upward without effort, all the heaviness lies in the stare fixed at Dooku. “If you’re taking public transport toward the Core as well, I’d be happy to help you with your luggage.”

Why are you all so damn gullible, Dooku thinks with desperate disgust. In the spaceport hall, the people burst into wordless howling and cheering. Their loud, rhythmic yo-yo-yo-yo echoes from the walls of the massive building. The mice in the cage have huddled in a corner, silent and docile now, surrendering to their inevitable fate that will lead them into the snake’s stomach.

“Thank you.” Dooku tightens his grip on the cage. “I have my own ship.”

The Jedi nods. “Of course. Have a safe journey, then, friend.”

“And you ...” Dooku’s voice falters. Instead, he hands him the still-warm paper bag. The sugary sweet smell makes him nauseous. “Here, my friend. It’s a long way to Coruscant. Snacks are quite costly on these public freighters, I’m afraid.”

The Jedi’s smile turns soft. For a moment, his serene mask drops, and he accepts the bag with all the eagerness of a youngling craving something sweet.

Yo-yo-yo-yo, the masses shout. It’s starting to sound like a marching song.

Three months and six days and Dooku is still alive. The snake has curled up on his bed and angrily spreads her neck hood when Dooku sits down next to her, the cage with the mice in his lap. He rests and stares ahead, waiting for the black veil to disappear. It never does these days. Absently, Dooku fishes a mouse out of the cage by its tail. Where should he go next? Which wonder of the galaxy should he visit, out of the ones that haven’t blown up yet? The snake slithers closer, flicking her tongue; her eyes are old and frozen. She moves toward him and the gentle rustle of the covers is the only sound in the eerie peace. Everything has gone quiet. Dooku watches her devour the mouse, humming softly to himself.

#prahacat #fanfic #star wars #dooku #ff comments #ff reblog

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alittleshycat · 4 years ago

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🎃Happy Kwalloween!!! 🎃

As I promised here is a bunch of kwamis in costumes!

Thanks everybody for all those wonderful request 💙 and have a

Happy and Safe Halloween!

Let’s start the costume runway

A little ghost plagg to start! 👻

Just look the little mane of this Lion Pollen 🦁

A little Fairy Nooro for @goldensmilingbird ✨

Fitting the Couffaine style! A pirate Sass 🏴‍☠️

(I refuse to make Duusu cry again so i thought in this) so here is a little Sadness Duusu for @plaggandadrienbondingisthebest 😢

Just Plagg in a sock (a clean one a least) for @whitennerdiest 🧦

Steal master, Solid Snake Sass 🕶

I was so disappointed cuz nobody ask for this!!! Like, come on Tumblr its the perfect match! A Plagg Bills (Bills Plagg? idk) and his sanity reason, Camembert Whis 😼 🧀 Edit: Aaaaactually, this was a request of my BFF and I kinda forgot say it xD So, this is for you Lando, Luv u 💙

Camembert Plagg for an Anon?… He kinda make that costume himself but, hey! it counts too! 🧀

Weapons for the God of the Illusion? Yeah! sounds good to me. So here is a Robin Hood Trixx for @jarl-deathwolf doing some archery practice with a Swipper Trixx mirage for @plaggandadrienbondingisthebest 🦊🏹

The power couple as the power couple, Tikki Sherlock and Plagg Watson for @bakergirl13 🔍🎩

A AKNT (Ancient Kwami Ninja Turtle) Wayzz and a Little Cupcake Tikki for you Anon 🐢🧁

Well, They make it happens, sort of, i think... here a kwami kwami swap for a Anon 🐱🐞

Congratulations @teatimetroubles! Plagg hates you for making him dress up as Ladybug! and a Scarecrow Ziggy, until he eats that costume 😾🐞🐐

My special one, for a wonderful artist that is @chrwrites I was in awe when I saw your request, so this Corpse Bride Duusu is for you, hope you like it 💙

And finally, a explication Bonus under the cut 👇

I had to do this (and it's a good excuse to give a little Lukanette flavour) Who do you think made all those beautiful costumes? Poor Marinette, and she only had to dress 8 kwamis!

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dnightshade0 · 4 years ago

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Voltron: if the paladins had a Pokémon team 😋

If you like this, leave a comment and/or send feedback.

I imagined that shiro would have a dark and flying type Pokémon team.

Mainly because his lion has wings and specialize in air. The dark typing I thought would add an interesting mix to it... what?....... ok yeah, so it’s also to do with the dark theme the black lion has... don’t look at me like that! >_>

The Zoroark I put in not only cause of the dark typing but because Zoroark is “the master of illusions” a Pokémon that transforms into people and Pokémon to trick others. I imagine people could make all kinds of kuron references and jokes here XD

I also imagine Zoroark would have itself some jolly good fun messing with the other paladins by pretending to be shiro. Only eventually getting found out when either the real shiro showed up or that tail became visible XD

Keith’s team is of course fire type, cause of his lion’s element. And I picked the fire types that would match his personality best. Fire types (like the red lion and ironically like Keith XD ) are known to be temperamental.

And yes, I put two dog Pokémon in cause Keith has a wolf for a pet. He’s gonna have a fun time with those two XD

I have also heard that Keith’s favorite animal is a hippo? So of course I threw those in there too just for that.

Lance’s team I made to fit his personality as well. (Actually, I did that for all of them) all of lance’s Pokémon reflect his interests as well as his lion’s Affinity for water and ice. Yes, I know, I threw a mermaid/selkie in there. Of course I did, it’s been made clear that lance loves mermaids so yeah, I put that one in. He also likes to boast that he’s a ninja sharpshooter, so I put in greninja.

I imagine his Pokémon might end up spending more time keeping lance out of trouble then anything. Greninja would probably be dragging him away every time he started flirting with a girl.

Vaporeon would probably hose him down for shiro XD

Lance “ I thought you guys were supposed to be on my side?! DX”

Hunk’s team is all ground or rock types. Cause his lion’s element is earth. hunk is a sweetheart and a teddybear, so I picked Pokémon that would reflect his kind lovable big guy personality. I considered putting an onix in his team, but it was mentioned to me that he would like cute adorable Pokémon better. And I gotta agree, hunk doesn’t seem like a snake person.

I made cubone part of his team cause come on, as a lonely Pokémon, your days of feeling sad and lonely are over when your around hunk 😊

And despite wearing its mother’s skull on its head, I know hunk would love having this cute little guy around. Maybe even be a handy little helper around the kitchen. He could make mashed potatoes using its bone XD

Half of Pidge’s team is plant type (because her lion’s element is forest.) but I put some different types into the mix because of pidge’s own interests in tech. I put the elekid in cause hay, with all the time pidge spends on her laptop, it’s gonna run out of power eventually. Would make sense to have a “backup power generator” right? XD

And the kecleon is do to pidge’s genius in adding cloaking tech to her lion. An invisible accomplice would be handy in getting into all kinds of techy mischief XD

And the Porygon-Z, it was made from science so why not? It might help her with hacking (shrugs)

Allura’s team... ok don’t judge me! I can’t help it if mice are her thing! >_< though it’s funny how most mice Pokémon happen to be electric types. I did add a Sylveon cause it seemed to match her personality...ok so it’s pretty! It’s a cute Pokémon that is pink ok?!

The only animals I’ve seen allura interact with the most are the mice so it’ s only natural that she’d work great with mice Pokémon. And if lance annoys her with any of his flirting, she can just have pikachu use thundershock on him X3

Allura “thank you little friend ^_^”

Pikachu “pika! ^_^”

Lance “X_X” KO’d ( Keith nudges a twitching unconscious lance with his foot)

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cyclicalaberration · 4 years ago

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Unrecorded Histories

Eret is a historian. The server changes so fast that events get forgotten in less than two months sometimes, so trying to preserve it was crucial. Historians are few and far between nowadays, griefing and abandonment and time decaying all documents.

They have only known one other, but he is highly specialized, knowing more about the wastelands of 2B2T than any has cared to know in decades, as the warzone was under constant change.

Recording history is hard on many servers, but it feels that the SMP is harder to record than most. Few people remember more than a decade back, and most information is lost faster than that with the amount of times old builds have been griefed. Eret has been around a long time, and they are still learning new things.

It’s ironic that the one dedicated to preserving history cannot remember their own.

They remember a city of four, they remember white eyes. They remember the smell of spruce wood, coal dust and ozone. They remember the squelch of netherrack, redstone particles, gold. They have always hidden their eyes. They didn’t use to hide their eyes. Conflicting accounts. They remember thunderstorms.

They remember being loved, they remember dancing. They remember singing, and spinning, and laughing. They do not remember more from before the SMP.

They have no problem remembering the smp, the horrors, the hurt. They have no problem remembering the torment. They do not remember the life they led before.

They sit upon the pedestal in their castle, staring as the redstone particles dance. They and Foolish have been searching for weeks, to no avail. They don’t remember. The netherrack is warm beneath them, and it pulses every once in a while. They don’t remember. They don’t even know what they are.

Their glasses sit in front of them. They stare at their reflection, blank white eyes staring back at them. Nobody reacts well to their eyes, only Foolish. Decay creeps up their fingers again, the withering lingering as their hands, their cheekbones, their chest, burn. They have never died to a wither, but they have the lingering effects of one who’s withered a thousand times over. Their joints creak and they massage their hands.

They don’t even know what they are. A hybrid, certainly, but they don’t know what their other half is.

“Okay, now he’s just Herobrine,” echoes through their head, Philza’s first reaction upon seeing their eyes. They can’t shake that name.

They shove their glasses on their face with shaky hands, gloves hiding their ashen fingertips, and clip their cape on, gold clasp gleaming with the crest of their kingdom, a kingdom near dissolved. Their crown sits unworn. They don’t need it where they’re going.

“Eret! Old pal! What brings you to my temple?” Foolish drops the sandstone he was moving, turning to face them, rows of teeth betraying nothing but excitement, emerald eyes shining. The gold beacon on his pyramid spins, and Eret takes a deep breath.

“Hey Foolish.” Foolish’s face falls, and he shrinks down so they’re the same height,

“The withering bothering you again?” Eret nods. There was no point in denying it, the ash was creeping out from under their glasses. They massage their hands again, ignoring the burning in the middle of their chest, the pain where their glasses press on the withering skin, but that wasn’t why they’re here.

“That’s not why I’m here. I just-.” They flinch as another bolt of pain shoots through them, but this time it doesn’t fade. Their face burns and itches and screams in agony, and when it pulses again, they bite their tongue so hard it bleeds, the taste of iron filling their mouth. They’re blind with pain. Their eyes burn, their face burns, their hands burn. They try and speak and they start to cough, each cough sending more pain shooting through their body.

They are sitting down when they can think again. They don’t know when that happened. They can see again shortly after, unimpeded by sunglasses. Foolish is crouched in front of them.

“Old pal, that isn’t phantom pain! That’s active withering! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Withering- usually isn’t that bad.”

“Withering- Withering has a lot of long term consequences! In most mortals, repeated withering can cause cataracts, loss of joint function, temporary paralysis, night terrors, insomnia- Eret, how many withers have you fought recently?”

“I don’t remember- twelve? Maybe? Twelve I’ve used for beacons.” Foolish’s jaw goes slack, and another, smaller, spasm of pain shoots through them.

“Have you properly- of course you haven’t. Foolish, foolish, of course they were gonna be rediscovered-”

“What are you talking about?” Eret looks up at him, trying to climb to their feet on shaking legs. Foolish offers them a hand and they take it, leaning on him.

“Remember when I mentioned the wither cult? We tried to stop it from happening again, destroyed all information we could get our hands on. We were young and stupid, and of course it’d be rediscovered in this area. Lets see if I have the stuff to take care of this-” Foolish’s hand hovers just over Eret’s ashy cheek, just under their eyes- “You just stay here, I have to look for my supplies.” Foolish helps them to sit on the tail of his snake statue, and starts to dig through his chests, muttering quietly.

“There’s not much I can do to keep it away until the withering retreats, but this should make it hurt less, and send it away faster.” Foolish pulls out a tube of what looks like homemade burn cream, but darker, and wipes it over their face, letting them massage it into their hands. “Is there any other decay I should know about?”

Eret nods, dropping their cape and gesturing towards their back. Foolish hisses.

“How long?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Drink this.” He hands them an instant health potion, and then a glass of milk. “Can I help you with this?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, you really outdid yourself old pal. I thought you might’ve learned your lesson, but you really haven’t changed that much.”

Eret smiles, and Foolish stands up and steps back, handing them back their cape. “I have another potion after this, but until the decay decreases, I don’t think there’s much more we can do. So let’s get to the bottom of this memory loss then.”

Herobrine is a god. He is a god with empty eyes. He is a god who floats. He is a god who builds. He is a god of fear. He is older than the nether. He saw wither skeletons with their flesh still tied to their charred bones. He saw the river that flowed through the soulsand valleys. He saw the nether in its prime. He is older than Prime. He is older than XD.

He strips trees of their leaves, leaving them twisting, skeletal husks in the dead of summer. He is a mischievous god, a vindictive god, an evil god, a god of chaos. He saw the monuments when they still saw the sun, unflooded and unguarded, still worshipped at. He saw the temples worshipped at, he saw the mine shafts dug. He saw the fortresses built, the strongholds the last ditch effort to avoid the devastation.

He is older than the end.

He is old, and he got bored. And boredom makes gods antsy, makes them stressed, makes them bored. Bored gods are dangerous gods. And Herobrine had been bored for centuries. So it was to be expected that upon his first contact with another being, he caused mischief. He was a bit vindictive, perhaps.

But Steve grew used to him, and Alex grew exasperated, and he grew fond of the adventurers. He couldn’t scare them any longer, and eventually they grew fond of him as well.

Eventually, in their travels, they set up a base. And he built. Alex and Steve would hunt, farm, explore, mine, but he would build. He built cities, villages. And sometimes, sometimes he would strip forests of their leaves, but only if he was extremely, extremely bored.

Finding a child in the nether was the strangest event in a few centuries, but that didn’t say much. Finding a godling was.

He named it Eret. Alex was confused, Steve was adoring, Herobrine would die for them.

Eret grew slowly, as godlings tend to do. They were smart, and fast, and at some point they set out, exploring new areas of the world, and they returned, a totem of death in tow. Eret and Foolish, as he had been named, were close. They were ever so close, and ever so chaotic. Herobrine laughed, when the angel of Death visited to tell him that his kid was interfering with the Blood God’s business.

Alex was less amused. Steve found the whole thing rather endearing.

Eret was home for a while, telling them about a time traveller they met, when they were summoned. They were there, and then they were not, and he had no idea where they went. Steve said they’d be fine, Alex sent out letters to everyone they could think of, and Herobrine sent a letter to Foolish.

Foolish sent him back a letter, saying they were fine, saying they were alive, in a land of XD’s making, a land where he had no power. He didn’t know it would affect their memory.

Eret shakes their head, the sand hot against their skin, in shock.

“I- I don’t remember. I’m so sorry, Foolish.”

“You will. In time, you will, I promise. We will figure this out together, old pal, on my word, I will help you. And if you don’t remember, we’ll make new ones. Now,” Foolish slides a disc into his jukebox and bows to them, extending one hand. “Let’s start here. May I have this dance?”

#Long post #Eternal duo #dream smp fic #dream smp #the eret #Foolish Gamers #Foolish G #Wither Lore #mic writes

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fadebolt · 3 months ago

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Huh, your analysis on Respectless actually makes a ton of sense. Vel absolutely strikes me as the kind of person that would overexaggerate, just to get under someone's skin.

Alastor did the exact same thing in Stayed Gone, where it didn't really matter whether or not he was actually correct about Vox's podcasts being mediocre, or him 'being nothing without the other Vs'. All he wanted to achieve, was to get onto the nerves of his obsessive TV-headed rival, who clearly wasn't in the right headspace to handle hearing these humiliating statements, especially since they're being broadcasted to the public.

And it's really no surprise that this is a recurring trend. After all, we're talking about famous powerful sinners living in the pride ring... of course they're gonna be saying a bunch of overly ambitious stuff, about how they're the absolute best, and everybody else sucks.

What Vel actually thinks can be left a bit up to interpretation, and I hope it gets fleshed out a bit more in season 2. Her feeling too overconfident would make sense, but so would her being a mostly reasonable person that is putting up a front. I just hope we'll get more than just "Adam, but as an internet influencer", cus that would be an enormous waste xd

The 'picking up the crap' part does feel right as well, and that would absolutely be a fun thing to see more of as well! She didn't seem too bothered about the Vox-Alastor thing, but Val's issues, on the other hand.... yeah. (What's especially funny is that she likely would have fired Angel, if she was in Val's place. Would have been better for all parties, let's be honest)

Having Bee as your secondary Hellaverse favorite is definitely interesting, and it also makes a ton of sense, considering how much these 2 have in common.

Their kind of femininity is one you don't see often in media. From what I could tell, most female characters roughly follow in the footsteps of the three we see in heaven - the tall/imposing/commanding/majestic type (Sera), the fun/energetic/enthusiastic and optimistic one (Emily), and the more 'masculine' leaning one (Lute). I did simplify here a bit, but that's the general gist of it.

Bee and Vel don't fall into any of these categories. They take a very unique angle, one that I've rarely seen before (mostly just in those Disney shows that take place in high schools, where they are the mean popular girls that bully our female lead). So having this kind of character, and putting it into positions of power/authority is a really cool twist, and their creative designs certainly help a ton too.

After all, the fun parts about character archetypes, is getting to see different interpretations of them in different contexts!

Sry for taking a lil while for me to respond as well, but I suppose that makes us even.

Oh, and for Pen? Well, I'd say it's a combination of him being funny, sweet, and oddly relatable (....and the eggies :3). I discovered the show through Georgia Dow's 'therapis reacts' videos, and the one I liked the most was when she covered the Snake boi.

It really doesn't go much deeper than that, as I don't have particularly strong feelings on anyone from the cast. (As in - I don't viciously hate anyone, but also, no one has really joined my absolute favorites of all time... they were all just fun fellas that did their job well enough. That's it)

There's just some characters I generally tend to enjoy a lot, and Pentiouss does fit that bill (specially with the socialization struggles, those always get me). Plus, he actually has a neat design, with the eye hat, as well as an actually unique body type and color palette. That bumps him up quite a lot too.

(Final note I couldn't really fit anywhere - I liked your interpretation on the overlords, and Zestial, and how they all work. It's a really cool, but also somewhat vague and mysterious part of the world building, and a lot of your ideas do make sense. Maybe we'll get some more elaborations on that later)

Hey, I know it's been a lil while, and that you're busy, but I've been wondering about something. In the past, you have mentioned that Velvette is your favorite character from Hazbin, and I'm curious - what's the reason for that?

It mostly surprised me because of how little screentime she gets (I believe she has roughly 4 scenes, where she got to speak). I have also had instances where I came to really love side characters that the story didn't put much focus on, but I also don't recall any of them ever making it to my number 1 spot, so yeah.

But I will admit that I enjoyed her quite a bit. Her VA did a great job, and I do like the fun archetype of the 'snooty self absorbed rich girl that is also pretty short I guess' (with Pacifica from GF, Qiyana from League, and Disgust from Inside Out being some other examples I liked).

And Resepctless is a bop, of course. Plus it also strongly implied that Velvette is somewhat delusional (as Vox was shown to be the backbone of her group, being the one with biggest influence, that also sorts situations out - while Zestial didn't loose any relevance, judging by the way folks on the street reacted to him), which could be a fun thing to explore in Season 2.

I wonder if there's anything more to your enjoyment of the character, or if it's just the stuff I already said. After all, we all have our favorite tropes and archetypes, and a character would often become my favorite for simply fitting into the ones I like!

But I suppose there's no harm in asking :3

dw dw

I may answer a bit late, but hey at some point I will claw out some time...

Velvette is my fave from hazbin, but Beelzebub is my fave from the whole hellaverse.

I dont think she is delusional tho. I think that line was just either puffing up your coat to appear bigger and more threatening to the other overlords or all the v's i think thinks of themselves as the most important. We see a lot of vox, but id say that its vel who keeps things running the most. She isn't running and wasting time on simping for someone who won't even look at em (I mean angel for Val and alastor for vox). She feels like she needs to pick up crap after their toxic yaoi and feel the consequences the most.

And I think zestial might have lost some influence. I mean if u only take what folks from the street think of him, I mean they acted like that when they've seen alastor too, but its harder to argue that he remained in the same power as before. I think most sinners would reacted that way, cause 1 overlords, 2 who knows what they are up to, 3 they are known to take souls so u know u can still think lowly of someone and still be scared of them if they have a granade in their hand. Sides Val might have said that cause maybe v's have millions of souls due to the powers shift and more of the new sinners coming to them for technology., while zestiel might have had only a few thousands, strong ones, but less in numbers. Maybe she thinks those old souls can't do much anymore as opposed to their millions. also situation just had changed, they've discovered that angels are not immortal. so she wants a new approach to the situation and not be dragged by old unchanged ways of ye old. Also also all that was to prode and poke at carmila to cause her to outburst. I think she is smarter then u give her credit to. she knows its Carmilla and is trying to get out more info in the way she knows how. also it might have been again puffing up your coat to bring more overlords to her side.

But to answer ur question, I think i need to go back to queen bee. My love for her started for a beautiful design and its still a big part of it ofc. But... Idk how to describe it. She kinda awakened/opened some part of me if even just a lil (not like sexually i already know im pan/furry don't at me). Some part that been hidden away. one thats more spunk and free in her expression. More femme but in this specific way. This all didnt change my life in a dramatic way, but it pry open the door for other stuff to influence it.

And thats where Vel comes in. Trough that opened door, a lil bit. She also has an amazing design. But she is also spunky and not afraid to speak her mind and have a lil fun with it. She is respectless and a lil but of a bad bitch and Idk that kinda resonates with me a lil. I sometimes wish I had that confidence to flip off other plp (when deserved obvi) and dress in unusual ways.

overall idk you can all attribute my interest in them both to excellent design. but that's my theory on why

#fade rambles

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

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okay so with shl right, i was gonna do a round up post like way later because gifs come first hahaha but nvm since i’m already mostly through like 34 and have left 35-36 and a bit of 37, here’s my hot take on the ending that you can take with a pinch of salt!

it’s just i’ve seen so many hot takes recently and some stranger than others, especially the one where ppl try to snake their way through the ‘WKX did not die!!!!’ part

ALSO article that was trending on Weibo today had the title:

“SHL actually BE! HE in the special! You buy Wen Kexing’s life back with 3 yuan!”

i’ve seen quite a lot of ppl saying that no one said WKX died in the end XD so it’s not a BE - technically not wrong. in the last monologue by YBY overlaying WKX’s sadass flashback and shit, he does indeed not say anything about the person having to give up his life BUT- seriously semantics. and since when because a direct word isn’t used =/= death? you get what i mean?

it’s pointless to say the word ‘die’ or ‘dead’ wasn’t used which = he didn’t die. this is really the saddest argument i have ever seen. i’m pretty sure we’ve all got a tad bit more creativity in prose and tropes and metaphors and what not.

Exchanging a life for someone else 要用你的性命去换

1. YBY first off asked WKX if he was willing to use his life in exchange for Zhou Zishu’s. It is exactly what he said. This is exactly what the phrase means - you don’t give up your life in exchange and continue living. That’s not how to phrase works, well at least most of the time as far as I’ve seen the phrase being used.

2. WKX was prepared to die. His dialogue and flashback, him deceiving ZZS into thinking that this would be a happy, safe procedure that would do WKX no harm. I mean... it is portrayed that he is ready to die in exchange for ZZS. He said, “The one who keeps on living is the one who’ll live in pain.”

for all purposes, WKX and YBY knew WKX was gonna die. There really is no arguing with this.

of course, did the SCRIPTWRITER intend for it to be that way, who knows? Yes, ZZS did grab onto WKX twice and symbolically he “held on” and kept him from dying or there are theories that WKX was more powerful and managed to escape any deadly effects, or even some wild ones where YBY comes in somehow to save WKX after. Been there, read a dozen of theories.

i’m saying it’s a BE because YBY sent WKX there to die in ZZS’ stead. That’s what that sentence means. OF COURSE whether YBY had some backup plan in the works we don’t know right, but the end of 36 was gut wrenching because WKX was there to die. His speech showed that he was there to die.

if you didn’t have a dollar to spare and didn’t see leaks you would have thought it is a BE, and because it WAS set up as a BE. we all definitely would have tried to convince ourselves that it’s an ‘open’ ending - but you can’t deny that at the end of 36, the grief and anguish on ZZS face, and WKX being non-responsive, AND also the rest of the episode not mentioning them. it was a BE set up.

cast said they did film two endings (or more, according to GJ, but can we trust him he’s such a clumsy dumb dumb hahaha), they didn’t say it was both HE.

my point to this is that, yes, yay we got the HE in the end, after some erm surrender to capitalistic evil, but i do still think that they went full on BE with 36. they set it up right there, just looking at it. we don’t know what goes on in between or after because we are never shown, and don’t tell me yall have zero confusion as to how he’s still alive.

this ain’t me trying to convince you that it was a BE, it is me trying to say that I feel it is a BE, so don’t come and try convince me otherwise hahaha like i’ve seen in comments lmaooo to my incoherent ramble post last night after the finale. i ain’t trying to deter you from thinking it’s a HE or open ending or shit - although i honestly stand by the fact that the comments of “no one used the word dead or die!! he not dead!!” are a tad bit ridiculous if that’s what you’re going on XD

most of yall thought he was dead okay?! yes open ending, yes eventual HE in 37, but 36 was a bitch. it was a bitch of a BE and i’m standing by it HAHAHA. i still can’t look at white-haired, teary eyed WKX saying his goodbye to ZZS in that scene okay, it was a thorough BE.

is there a point to arguing whether 36 was a BE or not since there was 37? perhaps not, but aren’t yall curious how he survived? if you’re curious, that’s exactly it, that’s exactly the point XD if it wasn’t a BE we wouldn’t be wondering WHERE IS WKX XD

#shl spoilers #rambles #36 hurts like a raw BE does #because that's what it is HAHAHA #shl #woh

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

Note

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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