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deans-haunted-baby · 3 years

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Okay I see there are those who are confused as to why most of us are pissed about 15x19 I will gladly explain in depth:

Let’s start off with our boys Adam Milligan & Michael. These characters have not been seen for 10 fucking years. During that time there were Adam stans like myself campaigning like mad to have him and the infamous archangel return for some much needed closure. We had to content ourselves with headcanons, fanfictions and metas based on what we briefly knew of Adam and Michael as people while they unfairly sat in Hell. You might have seen the “Adam’s Still in Hell” memes that circulated. WE WAITED OVER A DECADE FOR THIS. And finally SPN answers our prayers and returns these boys back into the story for the final season. None of us anticipated what their arc and dynamic would look like. Before we could only imagine who these two characters were/are after having been trapped in a cage so long; what their personalities would be like and if they’d be antagonistic to TFW. 15x08 was a surprise because not only were Adam and Michael likable right out of the gate but the writing for them and their dynamic was damn near flawless! And Jake fucking stole the show he killed it as these two. It’s a crime they were not featured in more episodes because the chemistry between these characters is amazing and they’re played by the same dude.

We were given so much background into both Adam and Michael’s psyches in just a short period of time. Their motivations, interests and how they viewed those that wronged them (like the Winchesters); how Hell affected/changed them both and how they viewed their families. We got to see them banter, cooperate with one another and most importantly their different personalities. With Jake Abel appearing in only a handful of SPN episodes, he still fleshed out Michael and Adam beautifully; giving them layers and complexities that most side-characters (who’ve appeared more times than they have) didn’t. The way Jake played Adam’s anger and resentment towards his brothers was brilliant because it’s more under the surface compared to his angsty teenage self in 5x18. He’d become somewhat restrained, laid-back, gentler and wiser which works because Adam displays traits similar to Sam and Dean. He’s kinder and has a sense of humor but none of that distracts from rational thought as he’s quick to analyze and dissect situations. Man, he would’ve made a great hunter/Men of Letters recruit. We know right off the bat Adam’s pissed at his brothers for abandoning him in a thousand-year-prison-sentence and didn’t lift a finger BUT that ironically doesn’t compromise his willingness to help them unlike his past self in 5x18. Jake gets the point across with this character without saying much and that’s what made him so compelling to watch in this episode.

Now Michael was even more of a mystery onion since he wasn’t onscreen as much as Adam had been in past episodes so Jake got to really build on top of this character. Going from the uptight, cold-blooded merciless celestial warrior/dutiful son of God we saw in 5x22 to someone whom despite his arrogance and regal princely demeanor was very human, intelligent, fair, mindful and compassionate. He trusted Adam and respected his opinions even if he didn’t agree 100%. Whereas most angels take over the vessel completely from their original occupant; Michael chooses to share his vessel with Adam as a mutual agreement which says a lot about who he is. He’s fascinated with humanity and wanted to explore it instead of returning to his throne in the clouds. We know that Michael was created specifically to be Humanity’s protector and guardian of Heaven and Earth so these quirks he’d demonstrated in 15x08 aren’t too far off. He holds a lot of pain inside from his abandonment issues with his father whom he loves to a fault and grief over the death of his brothers. On the surface there’s very much an abused child syndrome thing going on with him though he masks it with a domineering presence. And above all this we saw that he was capable of forgiveness. Whether or not Michael always had these traits inside to begin with, its very evident that his friendship with Adam influenced the person he became post-Hell. And that was someone who, like Castiel, chose to rebel for the sake of free will by aligning himself with the Winchesters after witnessing the evil his father had committed. He actually cared about saving the world. This is what we call character development.

What does 15x19 do? It shits all over that. We don’t get to see Adam and Michael’s dynamic at all; and this was perhaps one of (if not the first) most healthy portrayal of a relationship between an angel and its original vessel occupant in the history of Supernatural. Adam is just killed off-screen Thanos style without so much as one last word and Michael barely reacts like he gives a crap. It was just established to us in 15x08 that he’d developed an emotional bond with Adam through years of inhabiting the same body. He protected Adam while they were trapped together in Hell. They were each other’s only friend and source of comfort. They’d developed a certain co-dependency on each other while respecting one another’s space. They’d both made peace with their joint situation. All they had was each other and the writing in 15x19 basically tells us their relationship meant absolutely NOTHING to Michael based on his OOC actions in this episode. He shows up much darker and shadier now that Adam is gone and its like all those years of friendship, things like that independence, newfound strength and humility he’d gained from living with a human for so long are erased. Michael just reverts back to Chuck’s 5x22 bitchboy persona in the most ridiculous 180 shift I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. And all because his little brother called him mean names. Pitiful. Just when he lectures Lucifer about standing up for what’s right; he betrays his own words, his allies and the rest of humanity in T-minus 2 minutes. That is total character assassination. Nothing about this motivation makes any sense.

There’s no build up to it, no foreshadowing in 15x08 or throughout 15x19 until they get to the lake. He’s completely deconstructed as a character in this episode and rendered weak. It’s like 15x08 never happened. Stripped of all his development for lousy shock value. Instead utilizing all of what he’d learned through Adam and sticking it to Lucifer by proving he could be more than what Chuck tried to mold him into; Michael becomes just another NPC in the story forfeiting the hero he was. And his reasons for siding with Chuck are never specified. Was it about about saving Adam? Was it about proving something to Lucifer (whom he’d already killed in anti-climatic fashion)? Was it all an act that he was in on with the Winchesters; cause there’s absolutely NO FUCKING WAY they could’ve predicted he’d flip on them like that for their magical plan to work. Not after everything Chuck’s done, killing Adam and Jack and leaving Michael to rot in Hell for eternity. And why would he suddenly go along with destroying the Earth when defeating Chuck would probably get Adam back (if that was his goal) which IT DID not to mention its his sworn duty to freaking protect humanity, hello? So his betrayal meant jack shit in the end as it got him killed by his fucking dad!! He’s brought back into the show only to be ruined forever and killed off in the stupidest fashion.

Moving on.

Jack Kline & Castiel. This iron-clad relationship has been in development for 4 in 1/2 years since before Jack was even born. And next to Adam & Michael its the other most healthy relationship on the show. Castiel, a million year old celestial being, spent the first 9 years of his arc on Supernatural following around the Winchesters, being torn between his loyalty to them and to Heaven. He rebelled when he was supposed to be a straight-by-the-book warrior of God. And he defied every rule in the process even when the odds were stacked against him. There was an endless rinse and repeat cycle of love, loss, betrayal and redemption when it came to his relationship with Sam and Dean. It made his character complex, interesting and layered but it still didn’t give him an arc that was his own. Castiel started out moreso being written as just the Winchester’s angel BFF/side-kick. Until Lucifer got Kelly Kline pregnant in 12x08 then things really took off. Before this, Castiel was a lost soul. His faith was broken, he was depressed, lonely, battered and rundown from years of being conflicted over the other angels and Sam & Dean. He felt he’d lost a sense of self and meaning in his life. And didn’t have a mission. Once he turned on Heaven’s orders, Castiel was a rebel angel without a cause so to speak. But like I said this changes the moment he meets Kelly.

Originally Castiel was suppose to kill Kelly in 12x19 because she was carrying the child of the devil and Nephilim are considered forbidden abominations. Told that if Lucifer’s kid was born he could unleash even more evil into the world. But instead of doing what he thought he should, Castiel decides to runaway with her. Choosing to protect her from all threats (Lucifer, demons, other angels, princes of Hell); this especially included the Winchesters. During this short time-frame the angel develops a strong, emotional bond with Kelly and her unborn son that stretches all the way to the S12 finale; to the point where it actually gave him a power-boost. From the womb, Jack appoints Castiel to be his father and protector and he’s given a glimpse into the child’s destiny that he’ll bring paradise to the world. A prophecy that the writers establish head on. This is an unusual circumstance because right here is where Castiel’s solo arc apart from the Sam & Dean takes shape. The journey of becoming a first time parent and guardian. Its a new kind of independence that for the first time has nothing to do with his friends or his family members/colleagues in the sky. Its his own personal mission that he willingly accepts, the second he connects with Jack from inside Kelly. Castiel immediately falls in love with him, before they even see each other; and adopts the boy devoting himself to keeping him safe. Making a promise to Kelly that would later become a vital plot-point in the seasons to come.

Castiel literally risks everything (Heaven and Earth) to ensure Jack’s birth and ends up dead by 12x23′s startling conclusion. Leaving the newborn infant Nephilim alone in the care of the Winchesters going into season 13; scared, confused and aged into a seemingly 18 year old boy for his own protection. And Alexander Calvert who is a fantastic addition to the cast really brings something wonderful to this role; he’s like a breath of fresh air and a bright light in the middle of a dark room. Jack’s naïve, innocent and curious about his surroundings but also as Castiel once put it “remarkably intuitive”. Right when he’s introduced his arc is intentionally paralleled with Castiel’s. Their alien-fish-out-of-water beginning is practically identical as is their adorable stoic facial expressions. Like father like son. And this helps because while the angel is currently dead in the beginning of season 13, there’s an empty void he’s left behind. So Jack is kind of his temporary stand-in. Odd enough this type of switcharoo would’ve been considered very controversial but it’s handled quite well. Alex is so likable and charming I almost wish Supernatural had introduced him sooner. I mean I really thought I was looking at Castiel’s actual mini-me and not the son of Satan. But I digress Jack’s story in the first half of this season is pretty much about discovery and reuniting with Castiel. He’s a baby so everything is new to him but he’s also one of the most powerful beings in the universe destined for greatness which makes the Winchesters very nervous.

Jack remembers choosing Castiel as his dad which is why he already feels strongly connected to him. Its a bond so powerful that it actually resurrects Castiel out of the Empty the first time. Something Chuck himself was unable to do (that was until the mess that is 15x19). When they’re finally reunited the payoff comes so naturally. Misha and Alex have such a phenomenal onscreen chemistry starting with that first hug; they really play off one another so well that it doesn’t feel like two angels interacting but a genuine father and son duo. So much of what makes Jack and Castiel’s relationship so relatable, deep and endearing is because of what the actors bring to it. But they’re not just a fascinating relationship, they’re compelling on their own too. Both trying to find their way in the world and within the Winchesters’ lives. Death is no stranger to either of them (tragic being that Jack is only a toddler). They’ve each experienced their own personal pain, traumas, life lessons, mistakes and decisions. The biggest for Castiel would be his deal with the Empty to save Jack in 14x08. While for Jack it was the consequences of said deal that would lose his soul causing him to accidently kill Sam and Dean’s mom in 14x18 as a result (something that Jack struggles with immensely to the brink of depression from so much guilt and regret that he’d rather die). Repercussions that would follow into the shows final season. What’s interesting about this deal though is that Castiel made it on parental instinct alone not as a promise to Kelly. He chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of his son as a selfless act of love and kept it a secret from Sam & Dean until his death in 15x18. That’s the extent how much this child meant to him. The other great thing about their family dynamic is that it parallels nicely with the Winchesters. Castiel and Jack share this unconditional love that can never be broken. its even greater than their ties to the Winchesters themselves just as Sam & Dean’s love for each other is greater than any of their other relationships. They would do anything for each other. Castiel would go to the ends of the earth for the little nougat baby because that’s his son.

Each time these characters were faced with danger or died, Castiel and Jack were overcome with extreme devastation and distress. That said its not just pain that binds these two its happiness. Jack is the best thing that ever happened to Castiel. Literally becoming a father to that child saved him. It brought him back to life, restored his faith and gave him a sense of self-worth and hope he’d long since abandoned. And for Jack, Castiel is the best dad he’ll ever have! He gave this baby comfort, wisdom, nurturing, strength. Was always there when he needed him whether it was to talk or to have his back. No other person in Jack’s life has ever made such an important impact nor made him feel more safe and loved than Castiel. Even when Jack had done such a horrible thing to Mary alienating himself from his family; it was Castiel’s unyielding devotion to Jack that ended up being his salvation. This was huge because once again he’d chosen over the Winchesters proving that no matter what (whether it be the world ending) his son comes first. So when Castiel’s pact with the Empty finally comes due in 15x18 you’d think it’d have an earth-shattering affect on Jack in 15x19. I mean for the first bit it does...until he becomes God. Then its like to hell with that relationship. Castiel is a complete afterthought to Jack and the rest of TFW in this episode. JACK DOESN’T EVEN GET TO GRIEVE HIM PROPERLY. And he just lost his dad because of a deal he’d made a year ago for him. A DEAL JACK HAS BEEN FUCKING DREADING WHILE HE WAS SOULLESS MIND YOU. And when he finally has the power to bring him back, he doesn’t? Jack just walks around with a conceited smirk on his face, bids Sam and Dean adieu and fucks off. I mean who gives a shit right, its only your dad that you love more than anything. This was extremely OOC given that time in 14x14 Jack nearly lost his shit when Castiel got infected with gorgon poison; the anti-venom wasn’t working so Jack resorts to using his powers putting his soul at risk.

I mean if he was so limited to helping Castiel in the Empty AT LEAST FREAKING CLARIFIY THIS TO THE AUDIENCE. This is not about shipping a certain pairing btw. Jack becoming God is not the issue its his characterization after the fact. His first instinct would’ve been to save his dad above getting in touch with the Earth. Yes we knew this transformation was coming it was foreshowed way back in Season 12. Does that justify bad writing or character assassination?? HELL NO.

This is what I’m talking about, episode 15x19 deliberately butchers these characters and their relationships. It shat all over them. No one is behaving like themselves. The pacing is wonky and inconstant. The script feels like it underwent several rewrites and I swear there were scenes cut out. The acting is off too and maybe the pandemic could be blamed for these things but it ultimately falls on the writer. Buckleming screwed up by showing us they don’t know who the hell these characters are, their motivations nor do they give a rat’s ass. And its noticeable on screen. I’ve known better fanfiction writers for SPN than these guys. It’s like they all came back to work but just didn’t care to put the effort into it. That’s why people like me are upset and we have every freaking right to be. Some of us have been with this series for the entire 15 year run. I at least expect these characters to be handled better and for things to make sense. 15x19 doesn’t and its not satisfying its just a cruel joke. The writers and Dabb should be embarrassed to have put this out there thinking we’d just swallow it and shut up. But far as I’m concerned the only thing this episode serves is to disrespect and ruin everybody while angering long-time fans.

MICHAEL. ADAM MILLIGAN. JACK KLINE AND CASTIEL DESERVED BETTER. And that’s the tea.

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 3 years

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

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

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

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

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He never wants that to be him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything all right here?”

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

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

Odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, just anything to make her leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because Demetri loved it.

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

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

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

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

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

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

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

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

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

He deserves it.

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

“Demetri, finish him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Demetri.”

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

“Demetri.”

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

“DEMETRI!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season 4 (because fuck it)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ghoulishhusband · 3 years

Text

I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u

Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?

Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter

CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!

read the under cut owo

Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????

I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol

First up is my asshole,

Giodine

they/them (preferred)

god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)

ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.

(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)

If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.

Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.

Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]

I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.

See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.

Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be.

Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.

(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.

Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!

This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.

I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉

But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...

Sam (Samuel)

He/him

ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.

Sam, Sam, Samuel.

If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell

Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.

If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.

The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.

Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.

Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.

And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!

Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine.

Purgatory

She/her

ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it. Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side.

(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)

Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now.

And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.

Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right?

~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~

My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo

~Idea section over uwu~

Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this:

She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep.

The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control.

Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding.

I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain.

Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.

And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!

I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]

ok!! ty!! ily!!

#ghoulishrambles #ghoulishsporkocs #man this is weird lmaoooooo #THE CUT DIDNT CUT IM SORRY #Man I should've edited this before ppl could see it I'm so sorry if it's a mess shshhs #I keep adding tags bc I have more to say but I wanna pin this but I don't wanna remove that Palestine post just for my ramble so #I'll just reblog it every once in a while

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evangelene · 5 years

Text

Despite What You Are (3)

Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?

Based on this request:

“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”

Part One / Part Two / Part Four / Part Five

Namjoon, after releasing the information-dump monster that was stewing in his chest for so long, finally decided to open up your world beyond the four walls of your captivity. Granted, the space was still limited—if only because he wasn’t ready to bring you to the bottom floors of the compound. It made sense, because, you know, you were a human in a fucking vampire compound. Hey, there were no complaints from you; you had zero issues with keeping distance between you and the vampires who were, probably, not as kind and thoughtful as the ones you’d met recently.

A.K.A: You liked your head on your shoulders and your blood in your body thankyouverymuch.

You supposed it was also nice that Namjoon didn’t just open your door and murmur something like “go, have fun,” but with a better palette of words than your feeble brain could put together. Perhaps, he too felt that it would be akin to releasing a tamed rabbit into the wild. Instead, he decided to show you around your new expanded quarters.

However, you decided quickly that Kim Namjoon was a shitty tour guide.

You felt more like a student being walked to a restroom by a teacher mid A.C.T instead of being shown a place around a place for you to…exist in…live in?

Live? Where you really planning on living there?

For how long?

Forever?

Damn, you really needed to start thinking ahead a bit more—like more than the next hour, more than the next day. Planning wasn’t your forte, it was as if it was built into your character that you were weak-willed and destined to go along with whatever painfully kinked road life paved for you.

“There’s a bathroom here as well.”

You nodded; raising your eyebrows like this was a new revelation. Toilet + shower + sink = bathroom. Got it.

Honestly, you felt like you were learning the alphabet for the first time.

L is for Library.

K is for Kitchen.

T is for the tortured screams of humans being fed from two floors down.

Yeah, you could hear that shit too—Namjoon promised to try and soundproof as best he could, but you told him not to worry about it, you know, like an idiot. It was almost as if you believed that this man next to you was human. It was almost as if you believed that, if you pressed your lips into a tight enough line, it would make him unable to sense your fear.

The ghastly scream of a woman dying only tightened your gut.

He looked at you over his shoulder, frozen with a quickly paling face and an expression that screamed ‘are you serious?’

You only mimicked his expression, raising one eyebrow but never loosening the purse to your lips. “What?” You tried to make it sound like nothing was wrong, but you were shifty and refused to meet him eye to eye.

It also didn’t help that the man you were trying to hide your fear from was the one species that could sense it better than any other.

“Y/N.”

“Mm?” You stared at the wall, admiring the shitty picture that all office buildings seemed to have. You know, that one same scene of a cabin in the woods with a nice little creek and a boat with no person in it. Was this warehouse/compound/vampire-lair an office complex before? Or did Namjoon choose this painting of all paintings to stare at every fucking day?

“Why?”

“Why what?” You squeaked out, nearly jumping out of your skin at the howl of a man in pain.

“Y/N.” It was a command, one forced out through his nausea—and, consequently, one that only increased your fear.

Wiping your sweating palms on your jeans (new jeans that were apparently brought in by Yoongi, if only because he said his mate was the same size as you and she wouldn’t notice if some of her mountainous clothing went missing), you swallowed. “Well, um...like…you know? I’m human and they’re human and…like…that could be me.”

“That will never be you.” He growled—the safety of which would have been attractive were it not predator to your prey.

“B-but it could be.”

“Why is this bothering you now?”

You stared at him, blankly, like he was stupider than you were. “Well, when I was in that room I couldn’t hear a man scream for help. That room’s pretty damn sound-proof you know, which is even more scary to think about now so can we like talk about something else before you throw up and I pee my pants.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he swallowed down whatever meal-less bile was rising in his chest.

Before you realized it, those moments of listening to real life horror movies playing out beneath your feet ended as quickly as you noticed them--your fear disappearing along with them. You had this hunch that Namjoon had made his clansmen feed elsewhere in the compound—a place out of earshot and without an echo. It fit the bill of his character, at least the only version of himself that you’d seen. Selfishly unselfish, if that paradox made any sense.

What hadn’t changed with your newfound freedom was the fact that Kim Namjoon was adamant that you couldn’t properly take care of yourself if left to your own devices.

So, okay, yes, it might have been absolutely true, but it wasn’t like you were complaining anyways—just stating the obvious. When he entrusted you to be a normal adult and be self-sufficient, he found you curled up with a bag of goldfish crackers instead of an actual meal, cry-laughing at a romantic comedy because…reasons. You may or may not have been on your period at the time and you may or may not have been unable to find any chocolate in the vicinity.

And that was how Seokjin, a pretty damn good cook for someone who didn’t actually eat like a normal human, became your honorary babysitter.

Again, you weren’t complaining—you were fed, had more freedom than you’d ever had at the Hunter’s Association and, more often than not, were graced with company that wasn’t a jock-head moron too full of themselves to note your strengths outside of a fear-filled realm of vampires.

Since when did you stop wanting to escape?

Probably when you started crying for the sake of a vampire mate you shouldn’t care about but inexplicably did.

The only immediate downside to your predicament was the damn near constant dad jokes.

“You know, for the pasta few days it’s been really nice getting to gnocchi you.”

You let out a sigh that had been slowly building for the past half hour stuck in the same room with Kim Seokjin, forgoing face-palming if only to keep hold of the book in your hands. “Do you even know what gnocchi is?” It was mumbled more to the pages than to the man trying not to almost steam his face off with boiling water. Though a brow-less Seokjin would make good blackmail fodder for later, you wanted to avoid the danger if only because you were shit useless when it came to helping heal vampiric wounds.

“No clue.” He shrugged, hissing when he grabbed a metal pot with his bare hand like an idiot (like you would have but, you know, this isn’t about you). “I just saw the word in a human recipe book and I thought that it fit nicely with the joke.”

“Okay now I dare you to try and make a pun out of cavatappi.”

“Pass.” He waved you away as you let out a bark of laughter to the ceiling. However, the fact that you laughed at all—even if it was at him rather than with him—seemed to goad his ego. “Hah! I win!”

“I only laughed because you’re stupid.”

“Still a win, stupidity or no stupidity.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the page over only to come face to face with an illustration more baffling than understanding atomic diagrams in school—well, the schooling that was considered ‘normal’ instead of the Hunter’s Association’s vampire-killing training. You probably (no, you know) you looked like a doofus, your lip curled in confusion as you stared at the image; you were positive you would be able to grow wings on your forehead sooner than you would be able to make sense of the gibberish information spread out before you.

“And I thought human anatomy was difficult.” You frowned at the book. “What the hell is a vesticular astral plane manifestor? And why are there like seven of them? Gah! Does anything about vampires make sense?”

“We’re not any more complicated to understand than you, Miss I-have-203-bones.”

“Its 206.”

“Well you don’t know what a manifestor is.”

“Because humans are normal!”

He scoffed, though his lips were turned up in a smirk. “Yeah, sure ‘Normal’.”

Part of you really wanted to throw the 1800’s equivalent of “vampires for dummies” that you were straining your feeble brain over at him; but, the smarter part of you said that you were hungry and you weren’t willing to risk angering him.

However, you doubted that Kim Seokjin ever actually got angry—he was surprisingly levelheaded for someone who tripped over his own foot every two seconds.

Of course, you were one to talk.

“So like—is this a diagram of a mated vampire then? Or like?” You twisted the book sideways, as if seeing it from the different angle would make it easier to understand. All it did was make the legend harder to read.

“There’s no difference in the anatomy of a mated and an unmated vampire, Y/N.”

“Liar.” You furrowed your brow in concentration. “There’s got to be something to explain cranky-pants.”

“It’s called having a human mate.”

“Bullshit!”

“Do you ever refrain from swearing?”

“Rarely.”

He sighed, shoulders dropping at your proud grunt of victory. “Namjoon is just worried about you, that is all.”

“Hmph. Yeah right, then why does he always make Taehyung and Hoseok go do his random shit just to make sure I’m alone. I swear, if he could make you go away too, he would. What is the point of keeping me if I’m to have no contact with anyone outside of himself? Which is another thing--” You sensed yourself trailing off into a tangent, and, instead of finishing it, you let your voice wander off with your thoughts as you squinted at the tiny print of the legend.

Seokjin laughed, stirring the pot with one hand as he reached up in the cupboard for a strainer. “Yes, probably. Though, it doesn’t help that you are rebellious for someone who got scared of me opening a box of noodles.”

“I was focused!”

“Sure you were.”

Dropping your head to curtain your face with your hair, you let the redness of your cheeks heat and cool down outside of Seokjin’s gaze. “Shut up. I don’t get him.”

You could feel Seokjin’s eyes on you as he turned away from your dinner. “But you’re trying to, right?”

“I--” More redness, more shriveling up within yourself to hide the fact that you were now more tomato than human. “It’s only fair, right?”

Seokjin cocked his head. “Cute.”

You flipped him off.

“Why are you showing me your finger? Is there something wrong with it?”

You sighed, shoulders caving in defeat. “I’m hungry.”

With a roll of his eyes, the elder turned back to the pot to strain the pasta into the sink. “You know his crankiness is just how he shows affection—vampires aren’t known for outwardly caring.”

“Well it’s confusing.” You mumbled to the book, flipping the page if only because you felt a migraine building in your temple from staring at the jumbled image for so long.

“What’s confusing?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Namjoon’s voice, turning to see him leaning against the doorway, face screwed in disgust. Clutching the fabric at your chest, you relaxed enough to let out a sigh that somewhat calmed the erratic heartbeat slamming into your fingertips. “You deserve every bit of that.” You glared at him.

Swallowing the nausea, he raised an eyebrow at you with the smallest of smirks. “I suppose I do—however, it would be much appreciated if you learned to be less afraid of everything that comes your way; specifically, of the harmless factors in your life.”

Halfway through his speech, you turned back to the book splayed out on the table with a grunt that neither confirmed nor denied his statement.

Silence blanketed the room for only a few seconds, and then you sensed the agitation from the man in the doorway mere moments before his voice echoed across the room. “So you’re just going to ignore my question?” He lifted his gaze up from you to Seokjin who was currently too busy dumping pasta back into the pot via strainer.

Seokjin only shrugged.

Your attention was focused on the text rather than the clan leader, purposefully avoiding him for the sake of your own pride.

“Y/N.”

“Mm.”

He sighed, on the verge of banging his head against the wall just to get your attention. Part of you fully believed that he was attempting to direct his thoughts at you in the hopes that maybe—just maybe—you would be able to hear them; but, alas, you were human.

And even if you weren’t, you were denser than clay.

He licked his lips. “What is confusing?”

Ah, so it was like that.

He was a man that didn’t like to be left out of the loop—which was probably one of the traits that made him so crazy successful at being a clan leader. You were at least thankful that he was much more polite than people you’d met in the past who held a similar character trait. It might have been unwanted wishful thinking, but you wanted to believe that this unashamed desire to know what was going on was a trait mostly reserved for you and you alone.

The majority of you wanted to ignore the fact that you were becoming that much more intuitive to him.

“You are.”

He visibly relaxed when you finally answered, though the actual response seemed more troubling than your grumpy silence. “How so?”

You pursed your lips at the book, unable to formulate the answer in a way that would pass your lips aloud without your face turning the color of the pasta sauce Seokjin was grabbing.

Your affection is strange and confusing. I don’t get it. I just don’t understand why… You paused, head snapping up. Hey wait—doesn’t pasta sauce normally…

“Seokjin!” You nearly screeched, chair slamming to the ground behind you as you dove over the table with enough force to nearly flip it completely. Heart pounding against your sternum with adrenaline, you clasped his hand tight on top of the lid he was about two seconds away from unscrewing from the jar, nails digging in tight enough to bruise but not to cut—you were a nail biter, so there wasn’t much there to actually cut with. “Don’t!” Was the only thing that you could manage to say past the blood rushing in your ears.

Heaving in air like you were freshly drowned, you stared at Seokjin as if he was the biggest idiot on the planet. Out of your peripherals, you could see Namjoon torn between puking and being frozen in a pose that suggested that the building was about to burst down in a hail of bullets.

It was strangely comforting that his first reaction was for him to come towards you rather than out the door, despite the fact that your fear made him sick as hell.

“What?” Seokjin stared back at you, wide-eyed and with concern knitting his brow.

You removed one of your hands from the lid, slapping his away with it in order to take the jar from his grasp. Spinning it towards you, you squinted at the ingredients label.

“There’s garlic in this you moron.”

“What?”

With a shaky sigh, you sat back on your heels and let out a laugh that was enough to relax both you and the males in the room. “Pasta sauce usually has garlic in it, idiot—did you not check it before hand?”

He shrugged. “How was I to know? I don’t eat human food—besides, I did see some sauce recipes that included garlic and some that didn’t.”

“So you didn’t think to check?” You repeated, clutching the jar to your chest like the garlic could seep through glass and hurt your babysitter and infuriating savior.

“It didn’t say so on the front so I assumed it was fine.”

You wanted to facepalm and/or throw something at the male; it was like talking to a two year old—but you supposed you had to give them the benefit of the doubt considering they didn’t know any better. They weren’t human.

It was probably the same thing when they spoke to you about the concerns of vampires.

“I…” You pursed your lips, holding onto the jar tighter in your death grip as if they might try and wrestle it from you and hurt themselves. “Just the noodles are fine.”

Seokjin cocked his head. “I’m sure we can make something that’ll taste better—I’ve read that noodles are bland on their own.”

You chuckled, feeling Namjoon’s eyes on the side of your face as you shook your head. “Its fine, Jin, I’m just thankful for the food as it is.” Climbing down off the table, you spun the jar around in your grasp as you analyzed the kitchen, deciding what to do with it. Because you were dumb and because you had no willpower to figure it out after that heart attack, you stepped towards the farthest cupboard to tuck the jar back up and away—out of sight out of mind, for now.

“But—“

“It’s fine, really.” You grinned at the elder man before turning to finally face Namjoon. You hated how his stare made your heart do strange gymnastics in your chest despite you doing everything in your power to stop it. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his head cocked to the side. “Nothing.”

There’s obviously something.

He only hummed in response and you didn’t have a spine strong enough to pursue it further.

~.~

Now that the world was open to you—well, now that you could exist in more than one room and one room only—you liked to sit next to the window when you read. Though, it was really only as close as you could manage to get to said window. Namjoon, being a clan leader, had gone through extensive preparations in order to ensure your safety.

Even if it felt more like baby locks on a cabinet door versus protection for yourself.

There were bars on the windows to stop things from getting in—or out, but you know, he glossed over that part—and on top of that, there was shit blocking the windows and a nice, strict line taped directly to the floor to indicate where you weren’t supposed to stand. The furniture blocking the immediate access to the window was even bolted to the damn floor; so, unless you were a spider monkey (you tried, you were not much of one), you couldn’t directly disobey.

Sitting on top of the tape—more on the side you shouldn’t be on than the side you should be on—you thought that it was kind of cute how worried he was about you. Also kind of borderline new parent in a game of “why is my child trying to kill itself?” but you know, cute nonetheless.

“Y/N, what if someone has a gun? That glass isn’t bulletproof!”

You stared at him like he was the most idiotic person you’d ever met—and damnit you had to meet yourself every single day of your life. “What vampire uses a gun?”

“Y/N!”

You had the same book in your hands—a book that you were beginning to look at with fondness now, maybe because it took so damn long for you to make sense of any of; or, maybe, it was because it made you that much closer to understanding Namjoon a tiny bit better.

Why you wanted to was a forced secret between you and your subconscious.

Flipping past the anatomy section, you moved onto the middle bit—the one you only opened when you knew you were absolutely alone. To be caught red-handed reading about vampiric mates would be embarrassing, especially when you’ve spent so long in denial.

Vampires are not creatures whose relationships strive off of physical affection. While monogamous, they focus on their intellectual connection and reserve touches for necessary occasions or for procreation.

You flipped to another page, enjoying the sunlight warming your face. It was nice to see something other than brick, drywall and the same four vampires.

Mates are the source of life for each other. While a mate’s fear is nauseating, there is power in having a mate by one’s side. This source of energy far outweighs any benefit gained by feeding from a human’s fear via death; one’s abilities are near limitless in presence or defense or their mate.

You pursed your lips as if you could actually comprehend that—it didn’t add up enough with your current experiences to make any sense. All you’ve noticed is that you have only ever been a hindrance to Namjoon. Annoying, loud, injured and afraid of everything that comes your way—none of those equaled power of any sort.

Despite the disagreement, you devoured the words page after page, the expanses of unread passing and decreasing in the blink of an eye. The book captured your attention to the point that the world dropped around you, transporting you somewhere far away from the compound—from the sun and the ground.

To touch a vampire is a rare occasion; one that should be cherished fully, for it is foreign. Be thankful, even if touched as nothing more than a meal. To any human who may have stumbled across this book written by vampires about vampires, it is a pity that your level of comprehension is lacking and therefore you cannot understand just how complex the workings of vampire communication are.

I pray that this book leaves your hands before you are made a meal of.

And, to any vampires who have found this, may this book bring you a greater understanding of self and may our future be prosperous—may our kind be pulled out of the shadows to rise once more.

“Okay, dude, you had such a good thing going and then you just had to shit on us humans, didn’t ya?”

You grumbled to the pages, still too lost to notice that you weren’t alone in the room. Still too lost to notice that Seokjin’s piercing gaze from the doorway was catching you in a place where you were obviously not supposed to be and reading a book you obviously weren’t supposed to be interested in.

Okay, the latter was only obvious to your ass backwards human emotions that said “FUCKING RUN DON’T LET HIM KNOW” anytime you showed interest in another human being…well...in this case…being.

“Is there something you wish to know about mates, Y/N?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, the fear screeching up your spine and out of your body in a flash so quick that not even Seokjin had time to digest it; at least your recoveries were getting quicker.

“I appreciate the morsel, but you are off limits to feed from.”

You threw your finished book at him, the old leather creating an arc of dust that left a trail of sparkling particles lit up by the beam of sunlight. “If y’all would wear heels or something so I could at least hear you coming it would be great.”

He only laughed and, for a moment, you expected there to be fangs despite being well aware that the stereotype was incredibly false.

“Asshole.” You muttered, your calming heart allowing you to lean back so the weight of your body rested on the heel of your palms. “What do you want?”

“Well I came in pursuit of inquiring about supper, but now I’m more curious as to why you are investigating mates.”

Your head dipped to your chest, the rising heat of your skin causing you to want to put a barrier between you and Seokjin’s gaze.

“That’s a nervous tic of yours, you know that? You always try and hide your embarrassment.”

“No shit Sherlock, you think I’m unaware of this?” You curled your lip at your dusty, jean-clad knees. “You know, you don’t have to point out the obvious just because you notice it.”

“Who the hell is Sherlock?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “For fuck’s sake.”

“You swear quite a lot too, humans are honestly so vulgar.”

You really wanted nothing more than to flip off the vampire, but you knew that he wouldn’t understand the offense to the gesture and so you curled your hands into fists if only because, if you were going to go through the effort, you wanted him to feel your spite.

“What is on your mind, Y/N?”

You winced. Why did you wear everything on your face? You wondered if Namjoon was able to read you just as well, or maybe Seokjin was just well versed in the language of idiot. “It says vampires hate touching.”

There was silence for a moment while Seokjin gathered his words, as if sensing this was a sensitive subject for you. Why was it so sensitive? You didn’t know? Did you really want to hold Namjoon’s hand? Cuddle with him? Take long walks on the beach hand in hand?

Brain don’t you dare answer that, don’t betray me now.

Yes. Yes you did.

Fuck you.

The inner war had you making yet another face at your knees.

“Well, yes, we’re not fond of it. To us, it doesn’t really make much sense.”

You grunted, screwing your eyes shut to the memory of his hands on your face, brushing away your tears as you nearly hyperventilated in his chair. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, ridding yourself of the memory with a shrug as you swiveled yourself to properly face him. “Actually, it’s nice timing that you found me. I have a proposition for you.”

He settled into his hips, one eyebrow raised. “Mm? But is this a proposition I’ll be interested in?”

You laughed, eyes sparkling with a dangerous fire. “Probably not, but I can be pretty persuasive.”

“Well, I shall be the judge of that.”

You smiled, tilting your chin. “How confident are you in human medicine, Jinnie?”

“Why do I not like the pet name? It sounds like you want something that I don’t want to give you and that is scarier than any vampire out there.”

“Answer the question.”

He frowned at you. “Why?”

You refused to pull your stare from his, nails digging into the wooden floor. “I want you to take out whatever bullshit you found in me. I want you to put me under—if you can, if you can’t do it while I’m awake—and open my chest and rip out that fucker. Preferably, I would like you to close me back up and make me better afterwards.”

His eyes widened with each sentence, growing even wider at the lack of a joke in your expression and the utter seriousness to the wicked glint in your stare.

“Y/N…Namjoon—Namjoon’ll—“

“He doesn’t own me.” You cut him off, shoulders relaxing as the elephant in the room finally reared its head and left. “This is what I want. This is what I need you to do for me.”

“Y/N—I don’t know…I don’t know if I’m able to do that without killing you. I’m not a surgeon, not a healer—nevertheless for a human. I’d have to read up on it and even then…”

“Then read. Figure it out. I don’t care what happens, if I’m—“ a spike of fear that you swallowed, it undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by Seokjin. “—if I’m going to be irreparable, if I’m going to be damaged or maimed afterwards, that’s fine. I would like to be alive—and unharmed—but if that doesn’t happen, it’s…” You screwed your eyes shut, remembering those warm gold eyes. “It’s what it is. I’m not going to watch him get hurt because of me.”

“You’re doing this for Namjoon?”

“I’m doing this for me, Jin. I’m doing this for me.”

“What happens when you die? What happens to me when Namjoon finds out what we did?”

You pursed your lips, raising one challenging eyebrow. “You won’t let me die that easily.”

He sighed, licking his lips as he stared at the wall, the bookshelves, the window—anything that wasn’t staring directly back at him and would allow him a moment’s contemplation. “Y/N, do you honestly trust me that much that you are willing to put your life in my hands? I am a vampire, I have control over my urges but…I—“

“I trust you.” You said with the utmost certainty. “If there’s anyone in this whole compound I trust, it would be you.”

He nodded, more to himself than to you, and finally, finally, lifted his gaze back to yours. There was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“I told you,” you chuckled, “I’m pretty convincing.”

Laughing on a mini-eyeroll, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I haven’t made my mind up about that. However, I believe that I will agree to your proposal—on my terms. Firstly, it will take preparation. I need to read more and gather the necessary materials without Namjoon’s knowledge; secondly, I presume you don’t want him to be aware of this proposition?”

You cocked your head. “How likely do you think this would actually happen if Namjoon were to know?”

“Alright then.” He nodded. “I will also need time to find a space to do this in, and you will need to craft a proper time to allow this—a time when Namjoon is not around. I will leave that one to you as you are more aware of his movements than I am.”

“So, it’s a deal?”

He grinned. “We have a deal.”

~.~

There were a lot of things that you didn’t expect to happen when you found out you were captured by a vampire. You didn’t expect kindness, you didn’t expect someone to claim to be your mate and then not love you at the end of it. You didn’t expect to be healed and then treated like a precious pet. You didn’t expect to find friends and understanding in creatures that had only shown you pain and agony.

And honestly, the last thing you expected out of everything was to find the biggest, baddest clan leader of the entire continent huddled up under a blanket like an absolute child, his eyes glued to a television set positively blaring a really shitty romance movie.

Okay, maybe it was supposedly a good romance movie—but you cringed easily and thus you preferred romantic comedies because laughter eased awkward situations.

That wasn’t the point anyways, the point was that the room he had holed himself in screamed anything but good—like there were ghosts in the walls of people who had died and/or been tortured to hell there. It was a room that he probably thought that you would never go in, considering you were literally afraid of everything and this room screamed doom and terror. However, fear didn’t mean that you weren’t stupid enough to explore places you shouldn’t.

And thus, the idiot in a blanket watching two humans make out in a room with bloodstains on the wall and deep-rooted marks on the floor looked up as you threw open the door, his eyes wide and glowing gold at the scent of your momentary fear.

They dulled to a brown when your fear subsided at the absolute absurdity of him.

He paused the screen as if he wasn’t caught red handed watching something that would embarrass most human men. You had never seen Namjoon embarrassed, and he didn’t appear to be so now either.

However, he didn’t look entirely comfortable in your presence.

Adorable.

The two of you stood like that for a moment, him on the floor of the torture chamber and you standing in the doorway with the hall-light illuminating your back. There were no words—hell, not even a coherent stream of thought--bouncing around inside your skull.

Just confusion, lots and lots of confusion. Especially as your eyes took in the makeshift bed, the pillows, the things that suggested that you had finally figured out where Namjoon had been sleeping all these months.

Why here?

More confusion.

“You shouldn’t be here. You should be smart enough to know that this wing brings no good—you weren’t allowed to come down here.”

Your thoughts collided into clarity with your sudden sense of defiance. “And since when have I ever listened to where I can and can’t be?”

You thought of the time he caught you leaning against the window, having climbed over his barricades just to get some sunlight. He had been so angry and you had been so terrified that it should have prevented you from doing is a second time, a third time, the thirty-first time….

Well, it didn’t.

And the lack of amusement on his face now, surprisingly, didn’t make you feel afraid—instead, it only created plenty for yourself.

“Why are you watching this?”

He frowned at the television, his gaze refusing to meet yours—you had to say, that was the closest you’d ever seen the man come to your ‘human embarrassment’.

“I wanted to understand something, and I was told that this would be the best option to try to do so.”

You cocked your head, taking a deep breath as the pieces clicked just far enough and you stepped deeper into the room towards him. You tried your best not to jump as the door shut behind you and locked you in almost darkness, but you knew you failed when your steps skipped and you nearly fell on your face.

Namjoon only watched you approach him, his eyes never leaving you as you made your way towards him and lowered your ass to the cold, hard ground next to him.

You tried not to think about the bloodstains; luckily, it was easy enough when you had Namjoon next to you.

Even easier still when the glow from the romance movie hit your face as he pressed play on the remote by his side. Seemed he was one, enjoying the movie and two, impatient when it came to getting back to it.

“What did you want to understand?” You said finally, watching the couple on the screen run into each other in the rain, their kisses passionate and utterly cringey to you who could barely even touch the person who cared about but didn’t love you.

“I wanted to understand human affection, since mine is apparently so confusing.” His voice almost made it sound like he was pouting, and, to be honest, it was kind of cute and comedic to imagine that a clan leader was pouting over something so stupid.

His hands tightened around the blanket.

“So you did this because of me? And you didn’t want me to find out?” You curled your knees to your chest, the cold of the floor seeping through the fabric of your jeans, sending a freezing hand down your spine.

He nodded.

You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that he didn’t have to do all of this for you. He didn’t have to try and understand your version of affection, he didn’t have to pretend like he loved you, he didn’t have to do anything more for you than he’d already done. However, you couldn’t get the words out because the locked emotion in your chest prevented you from letting any of the lies escape.

It would be false, it would be wrong.

If you were to be stuck with someone, if you were to have someone claim to be your mate, you wanted them to love you. You wanted to be able to love them—you wanted that contact, skin to skin and heart to heart. The past few years devoid of any sort of care, touch or conversation at the Hunter’s Association made you want all of those even more. You wanted to care about someone, and you wanted them to care about you.

For some reason, you still had enough fight in you to believe that you didn’t actually care about Kim Namjoon.

The fact that you cried over his safety was enough to prove that your head and your body were at a disconnect and you desperately wanted your brain to be the truth teller.

You knew it wasn’t.

It never was.

“Thank you.” You murmured, suppressing your shiver as you rubbed out the goosebumps on your forearms.

Both of you watched the couple on the screen, watched how they kissed, how they spoke to each other and held each other’s hands. You watched them hug, watched them huddle on a bed and speak with their parent’s about a dramatic engagement that was fated to be disliked by whatever awful future-in-laws and evil bitches were trying to break it up.

God, honestly, romance movies were so damn dramatic.

“Why aren’t you afraid?”

You cocked your head at him, pulling your gaze from the television long enough to see him staring at you from the corners of his eyes.

“This room, by previous standards, should terrify you—but you’re not afraid. Not at all.”

There was heat creeping its way up your neck, spreading across your ears. For once, you didn’t have to duck your head to hide it from him—the room was dark enough as it was. “I—It’s not scary.” You murmured, trying to force the words from your mouth instead of your head—but, you were weak and it was easier to think them then to say them.

I think it’s because you’re here.

There was a moment where you almost believed that he didn’t hear you, that suddenly whatever mate bond the two of you had didn’t allow him to detect that string of thought. However, after a long pause, after a moment of studying the couple’s next kiss, he let go of one side of his blanket.

Suddenly, there was access to his flank.

You stared at him, confused and unable to read the nonverbal cues he was giving you.

“It’s cold.” He said, like that made any sense for him to no longer have a blanket on one side of himself.

“Yea.” You wanted to spit something else sarcastic at him, but for whatever reason there was a moment there between you that you didn’t want to shit on.

At least not yet.

“Humans get cold easily, do they not?”

“And vampires don’t like to touch. Why are we stating the obvious?” You said equally as stupid as the man besides you.

Seemed he, too, had a hard of a time getting out cheesy phrases.

“Y/N.” He sighed.

You ran your tongue along your teeth, opting for the coward’s way out since it was easier and you were terrified of the way your heart constricted at the thought that this was what you thought it was.

Can I?

Without looking at you, he reached his arm around you and brought your shoulder to his, winding the blanket around the both of you.

Surprisingly, he was warm. It shouldn’t have been surprising, they still had circulatory systems—they still had a heart that beat; you blamed the fact that everything that was associated with the word vampire before 2048 screamed cold. The chill from the floor was nothing compared to the furnace that was Kim Namjoon.

You kept your hands in your lap, if only because you were positive that, if they weren’t, they would find his—and this had to be enough. It was going to be enough for you. You were going to make sure that this was enough for you.

Maybe he would never love you, maybe he would never reach over to hold your hand or kiss you—maybe he would never tell you anything about how he felt. Maybe it would never be like how your parents were; maybe it would never be like the movies. Maybe he would never understand you and maybe you would never understand him.

But this was enough.

And you were starting the long journey of being okay with that.

“Why do humans kiss? It doesn’t make any sense and it seems incredibly unsanitary for beings that fall ill so easily.”

You groaned. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“What moment?” He frowned, turning to look at you like you were speaking gibberish. For once, it might have been helpful if he could read your thoughts like a normal mate.

With a sigh, you reached up and gingerly touched his face with two of your fingers, forcing his expression back to the television. “Just watch your movie.”

“Do you like courtship movies?”

You let out an unintentional bark of laughter. “It’s called romance, dumbass. And not particularly, I like romantic comedies but I prefer action oriented movies in general—considering I’ve got the attention span of a squirrel.”

“You��re about as brave as one too.”

You contemplated smacking him, but you were too comfortable to put in too much added effort, so you resorted to making a stupid face that had him laughing without ever even looking at you.

~.~

The bedroom that you almost died in suddenly felt too cramped and too full—considering all seven aware of your existence were piled in there like it was some party. Lucky for you, Hoseok and Taehyung seemed adamant on making it one by inviting you to play a shitty board game they found in an abandoned apartment complex. You didn’t know whether to call this bedroom yours or Namjoon’s, considering he had probably used it before your ass came running down the street with a child in your arms and a vampire on your heels. However, you’d never seen him sleep there.

You assumed he resorted himself to holing up in that awful torture chamber of a room for your peace of mind at night.

He still thought that you couldn’t be vulnerable around him.

For once, the man that was usually right was dead wrong.

You had no idea why they all suddenly decided to burst in on you and the idiot brigade’s fun time. But, with Hoseok’s knee a millimeter away from touching yours and six other vampires in the room, you thought that it was interesting just how damn different they could be when it came to contact.

Taehyung avoided touching you, though you had this inkling that he was secretly a hugger. Hoseok hated, hated contact but enjoyed being almost there at all times. And then, well then there was Yoongi. Yes, granted he had a mate, and granted he was a grumpy son-of-a-bitch most days, but he was an outlier in the mix. If you thought Namjoon was bad when it came to physical contact, Yoongi, who only ever sat in a corner avoiding everyone’s advances, was a trillion times worse.

Rolling the dice to the game, you looked up as Namjoon made up the last and final of the seven by stepping into the room. Honestly, you didn’t mean to look up to him—you didn’t mean to be drawn to him—but it was like it was natural. He had that aura that exuded ‘leader’; it was impossible for all eyes to not be on him. Everyone was drawn to him—at least, that was the excuse you gave yourself as you tried to quickly look away.

As you tried to make it seem like you weren’t swept up in how nice his clothing fit him today.

“What’s with the emergency meeting?” Seokjin wasted no time, speaking before anyone else could even utter a word. You supposed it made sense, Jin was the eldest in the room and, as a result, he was the only one with a backbone strong enough to meet the clan leader eye to eye.

Or you know, piss him off without dying.

“I’ve made my decision.”

Seokjin’s jaw locked and you couldn’t help but look like a lost dog between the two men, their glares bouncing tension thick enough to cut in the air. “On that?”

“Yes.”

You, being you, blurted stupidly. “What topic? What the hell are you talking about?” However, you only received a passing glance as Taehyung looked on with you, seemingly as confused as you were. Hoseok turned to give you a warming smile that didn’t touch his eyes as he lifted his chin to stare back up at his leader.

“Good.” Yoongi muttered from the corner. “It’s about time.”

Seokjin’s eyes darkened, receiving his answer after deciphering Namjoon’s gaze. The elder man’s hands tightened on his biceps. “I think that this is a stupid idea.”

“I didn’t even say what my answer was.” But there was no anger in Namjoon’s voice, no annoyance—just a fact.

They were that close.

Sometimes, they felt closer than you and your damn mate.

I’m not jealous.

Mmhm, sure Y/N, keep telling yourself that like it makes it true.

“But you’re going to tell them.”

Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck to smooth out whatever stress had kinked it as he peered down at you. You hated how pity warmed in the depths of his gaze, as if his words were going to break you later.

If that isn’t some fucking shitty foreshadowing for the doomed-ness of my life then I don’t know what is. Your inner thoughts grumbled before you could get a reign on them.

“Yes.” He murmured. “I’m going to tell the rest of the clan about Y/N.”

Taehyung’s stare flit between you and Namjoon, his eyes growing comically wide.

“How long?” Seokjin sighed. “How long do you think you can fend them off if they choose to rise up?” He raised an eyebrow, nodding to the room. “Sure, we’re all here for you—we’re all here for her—but you do really think seven vampires against an army is a risk you’re willing to take?”

You could feel Namjoon’s gaze on you, expectant. It was as if he expected you to burst out into a fit of fear at any minute now. He seemed poised to grab you and run the second you showed any hint of being afraid of the situation—mainly because not all of the vampires in the room had control over their urges.

However, you didn’t even look up at him and instead moved your piece across the board upon the prompt of the die.

When you realized the entire room was holding its breath for your reaction, you looked up and shrugged. “Yeah I should be scared; maybe if I was the same girl I was six months ago. But I’m not.” You chuckled, lifting your chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze.

You won’t let me die, right? You won’t let anyone torture me—you said so yourself. So what is there to be afraid of?

“I think it’s a good idea.”

Seokjin’s gaze was wild, his own fear causing a knee jerk reaction that had Yoongi’s nose crinkling and Jimin holding down Jungkook before he could feed. “Y/N—“

You held up a hand to stop the speech you could sense coming from a mile away. “Hey, this has to happen eventually, right? How long do you think you are all going to be able to keep me a secret? How long do you think I’m just going to sit here like a locked up pet? The humans already know; why not the vampires too? Honesty’s better anyways—builds more trust or something like that.”

“Not all vampires are as tolerant as we are, Y/N.” Yoongi warned, causing you to shrug more to yourself than to anyone else.

“Kay, and? Any of you planning to side-step out of the way of the next vampire that charges at me?”

“No—of course not,” Taehyung murmured. “But Y/N—“

“Then come what may.” You grinned, hoping to relax the tension in the room—all you got was a strained expression from Taehyung and a scoff from Seokjin. “Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this, okay? But I’m here now and this is the sort of shit I’ve got to do. Deal with it. I’m fine with it; you all need to be too.”

“So that’s it then? The decision is made?” Seokjin growled.

Namjoon looked down towards you, eyebrows raised as you let out a harrumph of distress, handing the die over to Hoseok. “She’s made it. I am easily swayed by her opinion—so if this is what she wants then yes, it’s official.”

You looked up at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I must abide by what my mate decides.” He chuckled, watching with fascination as you ducked your head once more, the barest hint of red lighting up your ears.

~.~

Apparently, this ‘introducing you to the clan’ was more like ‘the king and queen of the fucking world have an announcements for you peasants’ but like, if the king and queen ran a gang.

Okay so a clan wasn’t a gang, but like, close enough.

Namjoon was on this balcony that jutted out over a warehouse floor, leaning over a shoddy railing made of metal and chain link as the entirety of his clan stared up at him.

You knew it was a big clan, like the biggest on the whole continent but holy shit it was big. The warehouse floor was covered wall to wall with bodies and they were all looking up expectantly for whatever big announcement was to come.

You, however, weren’t allowed out on that balcony with Namjoon. Since your fear was far more potent than others and since you had the heart of a jackrabbit you were forced to stand behind a layer of two vampires and watch from the hall. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any fear.

Mostly, you were just awed that there were so many people under the thumb of one man.

Your man.

I’m gonna throw up if you pull that shit one more time, brain.

Namjoon looked over his shoulder at you, raising an eyebrow.

You made a face at him that had him laughing, seemingly causing him to relax.

Was he nervous too?

God, Y/N, how stupid could you be? Of course he was, he was just a hell of a lot better at hiding it than you were. Kim Namjoon looked so damn strong facing this army of a clan. He looked like he belonged there, like he deserved every bit of work and blood that had gone into getting where he was.

And he did.

If there was one thing that you knew about Namjoon, through all of this mess, you knew that he deserved everything he’d achieved.

But, if you squinted, you could see the slight tilt to his shoulders—you could see the way his hands tightened on the railing before him.

If you were stronger, and less afraid of being out in the open in front of a hundred plus vampires, you would have gone out there with him. You would have stood there to try and encourage him as if you actually had the ability to do so. It was so complicated with this man, because you knew you shouldn’t want to encourage the murderer—but while most of you knew the reasons why you were so torn, the stronger part of you adamantly refused them.

You were not and would never be in love with someone incapable of loving you back.

Keep telling yourself that, Y/N.

You knew that stronger part of yourself would eventually tire itself out, and you had to say, you were curious as to what would be the straw that would break it.

But you also didn’t want to find that out either.

Humans are so god damned complicated.

“Alright.” Namjoon’s voice silenced the hum of the crowd below, erasing your thoughts with just a single word. It helped that you could almost sense the fear of those below you, probably because they thought this meeting was held out of anger rather than due to an announcement. Either way, their fear allowed you to leak a bit out of yourself, allowing whatever emitted from you to be swallowed immediately by the two in front of you.

Namjoon straightened.

“Today, I have summoned you all here to inform you of my current situation—seeing as it is out of the ordinary for our kind. Be aware, before I start my message, that I am allowing those who no longer wish to be a part of this clan after today to leave of their own free will. If you choose to do so, after I have finished speaking, no harm will come to you unless you are stupid enough to taunt. May you know that, if you do choose to leave this clan, there will be no mercy shown to you the next time we may meet.”

You could tell that the people below wanted to whisper—they wanted to speak amongst themselves and ask questions that were going to be answered in the next instant. However, they were a well trained clan, hushed by the mere presence of Namjoon. It should have been frightening just how damn powerful the man before you was.

However, you could only imagine him wrapped in a blanket, watching a couple kiss in the rain.

“Don’t humans get sick from this easily? Why on earth are they daring illness for something as trivial as human contact?”

“I have found my mate.” His voice boomed across the crowd.

A chill slipped its icy fingers up your spine.

That was you—he was referencing you.

Yeah, no shit Y/N. Of course it is you.

Still, the millisecond of fame was flattering—though entirely unwanted amongst vampires.

“However,” his voice silenced your inner ramblings, “she is human.”

Once more, the world broke into silence—complete and utter silence as every single person in the room bit their tongue in confusion, in awe, in shock. You were sure that they had things to say, but even in this moment, Namjoon scared them.

And he, giving them every bit of the leader he was, never once pulled his gaze from the crowd. He never ducked his head, he never hid. “You may speak.”

A thousand voices came from the walls, bouncing off one another. You heard bits and pieces, phrases from different people in different places. It was a cacophony of sound, of anger and betrayal—some of acceptance, but not many. Insults were thrown like bombs, and you let each one hit you with the force of a freight truck.

“A pathetic human?”

“Well where is she?”

“So weak she cannot even face us?”

“This is blasphemous!”

“It has to be a lie!”

“Stop joking with us, humans and vampires can never!”

“Where is this bitch?”

You lifted your chin when Seokjin turned over his shoulder to look at you, a small grimace of a smirk on your features. You shrugged.

You could take insults, slurs, threats. You were known to take a lot of things without fear—verbal wars were the only kind of wars you were good at.

The only kind of war you weren’t afraid of.

Now, maybe if you could see their anger on their faces, see the flashes of red in the crowd, you would find it in you to be afraid.

But again, you were a weak pathetic human hiding behind the protection of vampires.

And then you started to hear the verbal shots fired towards Namjoon.

“Pathetic.”

“I can’t believe he became our leader? How long did he know of this?”

“How could we ever follow a man like this?”

“He’s nothing better than those humans.”

“How dare he?”

“He doesn’t deserve to be clan leader.”

It was a slow boil for you, blood rushing in your ears until that very last insult hit too hard for you. Your anger peaked too quick to be able to stop, the rage burning every last trace of fear from your bones as you gathered your hands into fists at your side.

Without thinking and without any warning—at least, without any warning enough that would allow Seokjin and Hoseok to hold you back from the sheer idiocy of what you were about to do—you burst forward out of the hall and into the light.

You made yourself visible, without a shield, without anything other than you and your anger acting as a barrier between a whole fucking warehouse of killers. But you didn’t stop there. No, you rushed the metal railing, almost as if you were going to launch yourself over the damn thing and into the vampire’s nest below. Thankfully, your better judgment kicked in and only allowed you to crash your hips into the chainlink fence next to Namjoon.

“Shut the fuck up!” You shouted, your voice nearly breaking with the force of your rage. “Shut up!”

Namjoon startled by your side, his eyes boring holes through the side of your face and, were you not too enraged to notice, you would have seen how damn angry he was at you for foiling literally everything.

Plan wrecker Y/N, the only thing you were good at besides tripping over your own foot and cursing for no good reason. Wasn’t it plan wrecking that got you into this mess?

“Who are you to decide that? Huh?” You snapped, hands tightening around the metal dangerously, borderline about to pierce the skin of your palms. “Who are you to decide who deservers what? Did you fight tooth and nail to stand here? No? Are you a god or some other bullshit deity? Huh?” You weren’t giving them time to answer, because, if you did, your nerve would go away and be replaced with fear at your own stupidity. “No, you’re not even close to being a clan leader yourself so why don’t you all just shut the fuck up!”

The crowd was quickly decreasing their volume, if only because there was a crazed human daring to taunt them—you liked the phrase ‘put them in their place’ better but it wasn’t really fitting; it was more like an ant crawling across your barefoot in the middle of summer.

“You followed him long before you ever knew of his mate, and now, because there’s suddenly a human involved you think that he’s lost all sense and can’t be trusted? And you dare call him weak because at least he accepted his fucking fate and did something about it. What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking insane? Do you know how stupid you sound right now?”

The gazes from the vampire’s nest below conveyed a whole array of emotions that you didn’t dare decode or pick apart—probably because you knew that the equation didn’t come out to anything good.

You almost came down from your momentary rage right then and there—if it weren’t for the peanut gallery in the back.

“Human bitch, come down here and we’ll see who thinks they’re a god. You can’t be protected forever!”

Namjoon tensed next to you, about a second from tearing the moron a new one. However, before he could even properly react, you were leaning deeper into the metal railing as you shouted loud enough for the metal walls of the room to echo your voice. “I never claimed to be a god, asshole! At least I’m not saying who deserves what because if I had a damn choice I would be down there shoving a clove of garlic down your throat!”

Hoseok, who had approached you in the hopes to at least force you to let up on the chainlink fence, took a huge step back to fold over to the ground with sputtering laughter.

Apparently a couple other vampires in the crowd found you equally as funny, because you could hear mixed chuckles.

“Y/N—“

But you cut Namjoon off, you weren’t done yet. Not by a longshot.

It takes more courage to deal with humans than it does vampires.

“Say whatever the hell you want about me—I’m the new factor here, the new thing you can’t trust. Your leader is the one that hasn’t changed. He’s the one that you should believe in and put your faith in and continue to follow until the end of your days because I am human and that is exactly what I plan on doing!”

Slowly, you settled back into your heels, your eyes scanning the room for any more complaints as if daring someone to say something more. Like you were actually going to be able to do anything.

What would you do? Fear them to death?

As if coming down from a possession, you felt like you shrank to five times your previous height, your eyes widening as you flit your gaze over to Namjoon. His golden eyes never left your face for even a moment, his lips parted with words he couldn’t say. You thought that, if you could read his mind, you would find all those dead words on his tongue just floating around in his brain.

“I...um…yeah.” You nodded to him as if you could actually read his thoughts. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He had a small smile on his face.

You nodded again, this time more to yourself than to him. “Yeah.”

The crowd, after the second half of your speech, broke out into a fresh bout of murmurs—voices rising louder. You couldn’t tell exactly what they were saying, you were too scared to try and discern what was what, who was approving and who wasn’t. You didn’t want to know how many people your existence had caused to leave, you didn’t want to know how much you devastated Namjoon’s efforts simply by being who you were.

And then, you were forced to come face to face with it when the same guy you threatened with garlic you didn’t have, scoffed.

“Are you all really going to let a human’s words affect you like this? Are we now sheep—cattle? Are we now just as weak willed as those we feed from?”

Before another word could leave his lips—before you could retaliate—the world around you erupted into a flash of pure, blinding white. In that moment, you honestly believed that you died. You believed that the compound had been struck by a bomb, the humans had finally hit. This was the end for you. If this was heaven—or hell, you were pretty sure everyone and their grandmother in this life were going to hell (though the last time you said that out loud the heavy Christian population at the Hunter’s Association literally flogged you)—you didn’t care; it was warm.

It was comforting.

When the brightness passed, when your eyes adjusted to the regular florescent lighting, the world was still alive. You were still alive.

And Namjoon was next to you, his eyes dark with anger.

You followed his gaze to the man who had made it his mission to verbally oppose you every second he got, the peanut gallery in the back who was now folded over, clutching the side of his head. Blood seeped through his fingers, dribbling down his arm. Between his pointer and middle finger was a flap of skin hanging on by a thin stretch, the mangled flesh vaguely resembling what used to be an ear.

“What were you saying, Jisung?” Namjoon’s voice was hard, violent in a way that you had yet to hear. You knew of his capabilities, of how deadly the man that named himself your mate could be when pushed or bored. However, hearing and seeing were two different things.

You said nothing, if only because you were unable to find words anymore. The man, Jisung, only grit his teeth and looked up at the pair of you with anger.

Namjoon looked down at him, his gaze piercing in a way that you had never known it could be.

Perhaps that was because you were the lucky one.

Perhaps that was because you were his mate.

“All who wish to leave this clan, you may do so now.” Namjoon’s voice echoed across the room, quieting the murmurs once more.

There was a dreaded pause, a prolonged silence that continued until the door slammed behind Jisung and his crew, until bit by bit, one by one, vampires left. It wasn’t a lot, but maybe you didn’t want to know just how many people you caused to leave the man you knew was more than capable to lead them to the end. Each person that walked through the door was another apology muttered in your mind, each person that stepped away from the clan another reminder that whatever cloud you had been floating on thinking that life would be peachy-keen was dissipating around you.

Without thinking, you slid your hand towards his on the railing, close enough to link your pinkie with his. Sure, vampires didn’t like touches, they didn’t appreciate the feeling of hugs or hand holding—but this was the only thing you knew you could give him without overloading him.

As if on instinct, his pinkie curled around yours as he peered at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You gave him the smallest of smiles.

To ruin the moment, if only because they could and if only because it was in their archetype to do so, Hoseok and Seokjin came on either side of the two of you, leaning on the railing to assess the crowd.

“It’s a lot more than I thought would stay, I’ll give you that.” Seokjin chuckled.

“A hell of a lot more.” Hoseok murmured. “But you know, Y/N had a point and vampires respect fearlessness.”

You turned to make a face at him around Namjoon. “Since when have I ever been fearless?”

Namjoon’s hand never moved to pull away from yours—despite the fact that your pinkies were still intertwined together. “I didn’t think I’d ever see the day, but you were fearless back there.”

For me.

The unspoken words hung above your head, as if you were both thinking them but not saying them aloud. You didn’t know how, but for a moment, you almost heard the phrase in his own voice—as if you were gaining access to his mind for the first time. You doubted it, but the fact that you knew it was a thought running through his head was telling enough to have you ducking your head to hide your blush.

~.~

The announcement to the clan had allowed you more freedom—well, slightly at least. If you were to go anywhere besides your original level, you were required to have one of the seven with you.

Well, one of the six; Jungkook, despite your positive relationship, still wasn’t trusted to be alone with you—he wasn’t known for his control.

So, it was Seokjin who walked down with you when you decided that you wanted to meet a few of the clanspeople who chose to stay. Namjoon, who insisted otherwise, wanted no part in you risking your life. So, instead, he watched from above on that same railing, his eyes never leaving your form for a moment.

He probably let you go if only because Seokjin was allowed to cherry pick the people that you got to meet.

The first person you were brought to, under the guard of Seokjin and Hoseok, was a clanswoman who was murmuring to a group. She was thin, tall with these sparkling eyes that only intensified when she turned to face you. You couldn’t help the spark of fear nonetheless; however, she seemed to drink it in without reaction. Her eyes flashed red for only a moment before it was blinked away and replaced with a warm brown.

“I’m Jiwoo.” She smiled at you, taking your hand to shake it before Seokjin could even properly introduce you to her. You stared at the point where her skin met yours in baffled confusion. “This is a human greeting, right?” She tilted her head in concern, furrowing her brow on you. “Am I doing this wrong?”

You shook your head, which only seemed to make her smile bigger.

“Y/N, Jiwoo here is Yoongi’s mate. Jiwoo, this is the source of your missing clothes.”

“Ah! I was wondering why he kept thinking he was so sneaky taking things out of my closet! I’m happy they’re finding a good home!”

You, however, were dumbstruck, staring up at the side of Seokjin’s face like he just spoke gibberish. The two couldn’t possibly be more different from one another—but you supposed that you weren’t one to talk when it came to mates. Still, imagining the frowning Yoongi holding hands with the girl who seemed to enjoy contact and smiles was beyond your realm of capability.

“I—“

Her grasp tightened on yours, until she was holding your one hand in both of hers. “Do the boys take care of you okay? They’re all quite hopeless when it comes to the opposite gender.” Her eyes flit between you and Seokjin, worry creasing her brows.

“They do.”

She smiled.

“Why are you holding onto her, Jiwoo?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “That isn’t natural.”

“Mm. She’s soft, I like it.” She chuckled. “I like her. “ She grinned in the most adorable way and, for a moment, you honestly contemplated your sexuality. “I mean, I liked her already just knowing that she was our leader’s mate, but I found her endearing up there—I’ve never seen a human so protectively brave before.”

“I’m…I’m really not brave.”

She shook her head, chuckling. “Bravery isn’t measured by quantity, Y/N, only quality.” She winked at you, turning to peer over her shoulder. “I’ll have to see if the boys will allow me to visit with you some more, for now, I have a very grumpy mate somewhere in this room that is trying to find me.”

“I’d like that.”

Her smile only grew as she squeezed your hand once more before letting go entirely. “I’ll see you around.” And then, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

You were glad that Seokjin introduced you to Jiwoo first, since she seemed to pave the way for the rest of them—making vampires as a whole become significantly less scary. If there was one vampire with sparkling eyes who appreciated contact, then could they really be terrible creatures?

However, despite how many kind ones you met, how many gruff ones, how many strange ones, how many quiet ones Seokjin facilitated your interactions with, they were all quickly blurring together. You couldn’t remember which one was which; after Jiwoo, the names were gone from your brain, replaced with faces you could only vaguely make out.

Seokjin, angel he was, tried to point out which would be safe for you to go to if need be and which ones you were not allowed to be alone with, but your mind was on the brink of overloading.

“Hyung.” Hoseok murmured when you nearly went cross-eyed and collapsed. “I think she’s reached her limit for today.”

You nodded, looking up at the boy in a way that had him laughing. Seokjin only chuckled when that puppy dog stare of yours shifted over to him.

“Okay okay, no more. But before I take you to bed I have to make sure you’re fed first—Namjoon will kill me if he hears your stomach growling again.”

Feverently nodding, you let Seokjin lead you away from the warehouse floor. Despite yourself, you snuck a glance up towards the railing only to find that Namjoon had already disappeared down the hall.

~.~

You, being you, had carelessly thrown open the door to the bedroom after eating, surprised to find that you weren’t alone. Yes, you supposed your mate would search you out to check on you; however, it seemed that said mate was passed out spread eagle on the bed before you.

Quietly, you muttered a soft. “Namjoon?”

He didn’t respond, rather, he seemed more dead than alive—if it weren’t for the telltale rise and fall of his chest and the gentle snores.

Gingerly closing the door behind you, you padded deeper into the room.

He was probably tired, you noted as you studied his face. It was difficult to sleep in an area you weren’t used to, why should vampires be any different? Since he had holed his ass up in some damn torture dungeon for the sake of your comfort and fear, you felt some sort of responsibility for this exhaustion of his.

Logically speaking, it shouldn’t be entirely your fault—he was a clan leader, he made his own choices, blahblahblah…

However, you weren’t a being built on logic. Instead, the raw emotion tightened something in your chest as he slept.

He was asleep, so it was fine. It was fine. If he couldn’t see, then it was fine to give in to yourself just a little bit.

Just a bit.

It was fine.

Keep repeating that to yourself, Y/N like it makes you any less creepy.

One toe in the waters before you ultimately jumped in—unless your denial was stronger (it wasn’t).

Brow furrowed, you tiptoed your way towards the bed, extra careful so as not to wake him. It seemed he didn’t wake easily, but you weren’t about to take that risk. Very carefully, with the smallest of movements, you inched your way up onto the bed, forcing yourself to the very edge—to the point that you were nearly falling off the bed in an attempt to not interfere with his space.

This was a better position to watch him, like a stalker, but ya know. When else would you get this chance? For once, you could look at the man who saved you without feeling shame or that surge of denial that turned your face red and had you looking away. For once, you could truly see the person who took you from the human world and brought you into his own.

You had to admit, he was handsome. Maybe it was because that pull of fate was so damn strong, but you couldn’t help but find the way his eyelashes hit his cheek adorable, the way his dimples dented his cheeks when he smiled or got excited. You couldn’t stop picturing those gold eyes as they looked at you with curiosity, sadness, happiness, amusement…

Something else?

You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch him—you wanted to hold his hand, you wanted to have that contact that was the line in the sand between you. You stopped yourself if only because you didn’t want him to wake up. You didn’t want him to see you wanting to be close to him.

Instead, you stared at the curve of his lips, laughing at the small bubble of a snore that came out more gurgle than anything else. So maybe this man wasn’t as handsome when he was asleep—but did anyone? You were sure the sight of you drooling on your pillow with one hand buried in your rat’s nest of bed-head was anything but model status.

Your gaze drifted to his shoulders, as if you could remember him folding you over them to bring you inside, to set you against the wheel of a tire. But it wasn’t ever his shoulders you remembered.

Your eyes drooped.

He still had the same smile though.

When did he smile at you before? Somehow, you imagined that he had when he left you at the drop off point—when he first met you, as if he knew he’d see you again.

~.~

You only realized you had fallen asleep when you opened your eyes.

Namjoon’s gaze immediately bored into yours, his stare probably just as intense had yours had been when you watched him sleep moments (moments? Try hours) before. He seemed to watch every miniscule movement with interest, startling your freshly woken self.

When you tried to back away out of embarrassment, you found that his hand was over your outstretched one. Stupidly, you must had tried reaching out for him in your sleep—funny how, even though you didn’t remember what you were dreaming about, it was the best sleep you’d ever had.

“I—I’m—I’m sorry!” You hissed, trying to yank your hand out from under his.

His fingers tightened, refusing to let you go in favor of staring at the point where his skin met yours. “Don’t be.”

You were lucky that you were slow on the uptake when you were first woken up; otherwise you were sure your face would have been the color of lobsters.

“I…I thought vampires were supposed to have colder skin.” You mused.

Smart. Good distraction Y/N. Couldn’t come up with anything better? Why do humans only talk about temperature when they have nothing else to say? Nice weather today? Ah pretty hot outside isn’t it? Funny how past preconceptions of vampires make my species as a whole stereotype you incorrectly, right?

He only chuckled. “Well, you feel warmer to the touch than I do—but I suppose we are warmer than you think because, while our circulatory system works at half speed, it doesn’t affect our internal temperature.”

You pursed your lips, following his gaze to your hands as nearly all of his words flew right over your head. With nothing better to say, you cut to the chase.

“Why?”

“Hm?” He cocked his head as best he could while lying down.

“Why are you holding my hand? I—I was—I was being a creep.” You whispered. “I don’t deserve hand holding.”

“Is this not what human pairings do? Hold each other’s hands? Admire each other?”

“Since when are we a…’pairing’?”

He raised one eyebrow, giving you that shit eating grin he had when he knew he caught you red handed. “You have no room to complain about personal space, miss ‘creep’.”

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks, and in an attempt to save some face you tried to duck your head out of Namjoon’s sight. However, his nails digging into the skin of your palm stopped you from fully doing so. He drank in the rare moment, scanning every bit of your reddened face. “Is this why you always hide from me when you experience chagrin?”

“It makes it worse!” You hissed, wanting to raise your voice but not finding the energy to do so.

His lips twitched. “I like it.”He murmured softly, his eyes flitting across your face as if he could memorize this moment and be able print a physical copy of it from his brain. “Do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Make your cheeks warm with color.”

“I—“ But you were weak, you were easily afraid, easily talked into things, easily convinced, and fuck, you were easily embarrassed. Your body obeyed his command.

He hissed in air through his teeth. “Why do I enjoy that?”

You laughed, unintentionally leaning closer to him. “Perhaps you are more human than I thought.”

“Mm.” He grunted, eyes never breaking from you. “Perhaps.”

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