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caligvlasaqvarivm · 3 months

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Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study

Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.

Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.

Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.

Those are his emotional support slurs.

Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.

Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.

He's Sad.

The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.

Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.

Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:

Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.

The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.

At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.

Compare Feferi: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.

To Eridan: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.

So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.

Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!

Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.

But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.

Which brings us to our next point:

Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.

If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.

If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.

Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.

Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.

(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.

He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.

He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.

NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.

Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.

SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.

We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.

KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties

Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."

And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!

CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble

You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).

Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:

CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!

One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.

And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.

CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:

Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated

Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay

In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.

Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:

CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry

CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway

It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!

THEY don't even think he's being casteist.

In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:

CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ

He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:

CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies

So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.

That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.

The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.

Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.

The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!

And it's all made worse because:

Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)

Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)

CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about

What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.

This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.

CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.

This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.

So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.

And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:

ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.

It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.

I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.

So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?

Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -

Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It

So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.

What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.

At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.

The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though

("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")

The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:

CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly

And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.

It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)

So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?

See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":

FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.

Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:

PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.

He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.

You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:

KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.

That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?

That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:

TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole

He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:

TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on

Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,

Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.

Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).

Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.

Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.

And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:

CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it

Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:

PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it

Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.

But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).

So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)

But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:

GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.

But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:

CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.

In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:

But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:

PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.

It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:

CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

To:

CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.

Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:

A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.

It also goes on to note:

But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.

But what's really interesting is the next page.

And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.

Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.

(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)

In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...

The crab has always been there for him.

It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:

TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)

When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.

There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.

First, they both do the bonk:

Second:

CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.

Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):

CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.

Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:

The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.

And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:

Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.

So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:

ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)

So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...

Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)

So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.

I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."

Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.

So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.

It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.

It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.

I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.

The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.

Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.

Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.

Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.

Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.

Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.

There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.

Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:

The Prophecy

ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.

ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized

GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway

Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)

But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.

Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.

Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.

That last one is actually relevant to:

The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates

Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.

Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.

Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.

But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.

Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.

In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.

But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.

Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.

Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.

Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.

Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.

Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.

Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.

Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.

Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.

Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).

And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.

I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?

This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.

This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!

Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.

Thank you for reading.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #karkat vantas #erikar #im also going to tag all the other trolls that feature because yeah.#vriska serket #feferi peixes #nepeta leijon #equius zahhak #gamzee makara #kanaya maryam

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etheries1015 · 3 months

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Fem!MC X platonic Twst - missing the "girly" things.

General warnings: Fem reader, very Self-indulgent. If you don't relate, please keep scrolling along <3 not very proofread. No pronouns are used, but the concept of "girliness" and "girlhood" is very strong.

The boys have noticed their prefect act a bit different lately...a cloud of loneliness hovered over your head. As the only girl of Night Raven College, it was incredibly easy to feel left out and miss the things you were once interested in back in your world. You held a strong façade of prestige and uncaringness, but what happens when that mask begins to crack? How will the boys of NRC put your woes at rest? ...with a wonderful slumber party, of course!

First coming to Twisted Wonderland, not many could tell you were well-versed (Or at the very least, incredibly interested) in clothing, face Care, and jewelry. Although your personality screamed more or less "Gremlin" at times, and were a "well-known and respected honor student" all the same- you had a rather "girly" side to yourself.

However, you had limited options on having a non-existent budget, but a few of the students took notice of the longing in your eyes whenever you passed by something you desired to have back in your life. The cute earrings, the pretty dresses and skirts, the headbands...a mix of classy and modern, things of that nature.

The first time you were able to get your hands on a half way decent outfit that suited your tastes and you wore it out, others stared in shock. You were still the cheery and "weird" gremlin prefect that had crude humor and silly dance moves, yet something about seeing you in such...frills and 'flamboyance' was not what they were expecting. It suited you, though.

You soon found yourself being handed such outfits. Vil had taken it upon himself to gift you expensive brand outfits that he saw your eye when walking around town, Malleus gifting you a few outfits from Briar Valley that he felt would suit your tastes, Kalim gifting you the cutest earrings he had ever seen (little fruit charms, bows, all sorts of colors and unique charms). Even Riddle introduced you to tea cups that fit your aesthetic to decorate your kitchen with!

Though, the more they saw this side of you, an influx of confessions also came in toe. You were revered as the only female in school (who also managed to stay at the top of the score board, despite your magicless disposition). This came with the struggle of being pursued, more so after they could see just how cute you could dress yourself up.

Despite all these new changes, you felt a tinge of... sadness. You were happy that they were all willing to accept you with open arms and indulge in your desires such as gifting you the cutest of plushies, clothes, jewelry, decor... that didn't stop you from missing fun slumber parties, girl talk with friends, giggling about your love lives, sharing clothes and doing each others makeup and painting nails. You confided all of this to the number one group you could have possibly spoke to about these issues of yours.

the pop music club.

A knock came upon the door at odd hours of the night, upon opening it in your nightgown, you revealed quite a sight. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia along with a few other choice students were all in gorgeous nightgowns, their hair done up, holding blankets and pillows with hands full of bags of what you could tell were snacks, makeup, nail polish, and other slumber party commodities. With a bright smile on your face and a giddy giggle, you let them in gushing about their cute appearances. You all lay out the blankets and pillows in front of the TV in the lounge (kindly gifted to you by Idia) and pulled out the snacks and lay them out for everyone to grab at in their leisure.

"We aren't girls," Lilia pointed out, "But at the very least we can enjoy the things you mentioned before! Oh how I love a good love story, shall we share our love lives?"

"We can do that while we put on these face masks! Look, this one is a panda!" Kalim exclaimed, holding up a large bag of face masks and other types of...random things he thought would suit the party. (He pulled out one of those toe dividers for nail polish, he had no clue what it was but Jamil told him he would need it for later.)

"Oh, I brought you this super cute and frilly nightgown (y/n), Trey said one of his sisters didn't wear it anymore and he thought it would look good on you. Go! Try it on, Then we can take a BUNCH of magicam photos. Don't we look like pretty dolls?!" Cater gushed, handing you the night gown. You took it with grace and skipped away to your room, giddy and unable to hold back your excitement.

It wasn't long for more guests to arrive in frilly pajamas and cutesy hair accessories. A string of familiar faces entered, and you soon found yourself braiding the hair of Leona, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Silver...You were shocked to see even Epel made an appearance simply to make you happy.

"I learned how to braid a little bit," Silver smiled gently at you, "And a few other hairstyles. I would be happy to try them on you," He said. You looked at Silvers' perfectly French braided hair and makeup that made him look nothing less than an angel, you nodding in immediate trust. You soon had hair that was done so elegantly, adorned with flowers and gems.

"Let's be clear, I ain't a girl!...but.." Epel blushed, "I-if it'll make you happy...i'll let ya braid my hair. Just this once!"

Floyd and Jade even came along with their faces caked with makeup and the most flamboyant nightgowns you have ever seen, laughing away at their silliness.

"Look Floyd," Jade pointed at your makeup which was lightly placed on by his hand, "I told you these colors perfectly suits (y/n)'s skin." Floyd boo'd and insisted to take off the colors Jade had chosen, holding out the most...vibrant and interesting color palate to exist. You only laughed and backed away, shaking your head and begging floyd to leave your precious face alone.

They truly indulged in everything you had missed out on, even if they weren't your "girlfriends," they were so adamantly ready to try, simply to see you smile once more.

It was a night of snacks, makeup, nail painting, chick flicks, karaoke, gossiping, and frilly fun. You truly underestimated just how much the boys took a liking to you and wished to ease your worries and make you feel a little more at home, and you couldn't have asked for better friends than them.

#twst #twst headcannons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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trivia-yandere · 3 months

Text

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masteriist

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business.

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.”

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with.

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits.

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away.

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him.

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously.

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because.

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be.

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often.

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.”

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement.

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh.

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest.

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond.

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know.

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once.

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company.

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable.

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance.

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further.

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful - how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk.

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans - a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp.

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude.

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin.

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes.

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure.

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts.

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying.

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane.

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat.

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want.

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns.

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

#payment plan #yandere bts #bts smut #btswritingcafe #brothers girlfriend #trivia-yandere #trivia:yandere #bts writing #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bangtanwriters net #Seokjin yandere #jin yandere #jin smut #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #bts affair au

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propertyofwicked · 7 days

Text

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister #lando norris smau

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formulafics · 5 months

Text

★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | PART 4

Scenario: in which the grid and fan favorite mclaren reserve driver opens a jpg account, but it isn’t what was expected. this time around, yn ln finally reveals who her boyfriend is.

Pairing: f1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: guys, we’ve made it to the last part of the jpg chronicles. i just want to thank everyone who’s followed along with this and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also paying homage to the pink and orange theme since all of the other parts use that!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

yn.jpg

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 245,678 others

yn.jpg VEGAS BABY ‼️ mom (my pr manager) said i can’t say what i want to say about the race. she also said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all…so anyways vegas is pretty cool race aside 🥰

view all 5,432 comments

yn.jpg shoutout to @/logansargeant for his first appearance on this account!

⤷ logansargeant thank you yn

⤷ yn.jpg your welcome!!

landonorris caption is real

norrisnation yn speaking for the lando girlies (gn) once again

rizzciardo LMFAO REFERRING TO YOUR PR MANAGER AS MOM

⤷ yn.jpg she is mother

alphatauritaurialpha yn this isn’t a bf reveal :/

⤷ yn.jpg babe i promise the bf reveal is coming. i have plans for it

⤷ piastrispastry YOU GOT CALLED BABE BY YN YOU WIN AT LIFE

racing.news

liked by ynln.official, pierregasly, landonorris, snd 56,782 others

racing.news sources say yn ln is ‘in trouble’ with mclaren team principal due to her second instagram account where she is notorious for posting funny pictures of her coworkers.

view all 2,347 comments

norrisnation so this is why she’s delaying the bf reveal

ynln.official HELP???? IM NOT IN TROUBLE WHAT 😭

mickshumacher @/ynln.official 😳

⤷ ynln.official mick do not feed into this madness you’re better than that

⤷ sunnyshumacher mick and yn may not be dating but i love their friendship so much LMAO

landonorris im crying this is so funny

⤷ ynln.official of course you’re here

mclaren can’t take her anywhere 🫣

⤷ ynln.official ENOUGH

rizzciardo YN IN THE COMMENTS IS SENDING ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

yn.jpg and yukitsunoda0511

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, fernandoalo_official, and 367,891 others

yn.jpg home is wherever he is. ❤️

view all 5,672 comments

yukitsunoda0511 i love you ❤️

⤷ yn.jpg I LOVE YOU

landonorris the day has finally come 🙏🏻

⤷ yn.jpg stfu

fernandoalo_official 👍

⤷ yn.jpg dad approved. thank you nando

norrisnation ARE WE OFFICIALLY GETTING THE BF REVEAL? IS THIS THE REVEAL? IM GOING INSANE

yukitauri WAR IS OVER

yukitauri MY BABIES IM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

yukitauri ALSO MY PARENTS ‼️ MY PARENTS ONLY BC YALL ARE HATERS

yukitauri THROWING UP RIPPING MY HAIR OUT YN IT IS A DAMN TUESDAY YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW

rizzciardo i expect an increase in content of them. i need it

formulatsunoda ykw i’ll be so honest i did NOT expect it to be yuki but im not mad 🤭

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, yukitsunoda0511 and 354,672 others

yn.jpg back to our regularly scheduled program 😼

view all 3,465 comments

yn.jpg i am @/fernandoalo_official btw and he is @/ynln.official. he’s just a silly teenage-ish girl

⤷ dreamyalbon YN PLEASE WHAT 😭

⤷ fernandolandoland okay but her relationship with fernando is so wholesome she rlly is his grid child

alex_albon nurse, she’s out again

⤷ yn.jpg 🤺

maxfewtrell this account is my roman empire

⤷ oscarpiastri same mate

maxsupermax we are so back

yukitauri idk about yall but i won’t be moving on from the bf reveal that is my home

yn.jpg @/schecoperez not commenting = hater 😿

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated — dae <3

GENERAL TAGLIST | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @minkyungseokie @arkhammaid @vroomvroomverstappen @vellicora @stopeatread @topguncultleader @cixrosie @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @piasstrisblog @lokietro @spidersophie

JPG TAGLIST | @dl-yum @youdontknowmeshh @lighttsoutlewis @kodzuvk @sofs16 @raevyng @p4st3lst4rs @1655clean @judespoision @evans-dejong @leireggsworld @landosgirlxoxo @3joracha @lanando4 @toasttt11 @gaslysainz @sadg3 @scenesofobx @leilanixx @zaynzierulez @flippingmyshit @goldenharrysworld @celesteblack08 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @willowpains @coolio2195 @bey0ndne0 @sheslikeacurse @sadg3 @biitch-with-wifi @torchbearerkyle @plutotcles @cherry-piee (more tags in comments + some would allow me to tag 💔)

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idiopath-fic-smile · 7 months

Text

this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—

Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.

Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.

From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.

So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that.

The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.

Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!

Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.

“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.

Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.

It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.

“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”

“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.

“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”

Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.

He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.

“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)

Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,

“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—

“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.

“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”

Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing.

“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”

“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”

“Yes,” said Kathy.

“As what, your first mate?”

“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.

He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”

“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.

Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together.

“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”

“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”

“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.

Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.

“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.

Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.

There was a pause.

“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.

“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”

“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.

Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”

“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”

“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.

“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.

“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.

Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”

“What about your matrimonial needs?”

“Which needs?”

His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.

“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”

Cosmo stopped playing.

“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”

Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.

Still.

“I can’t swim,” he said.

“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.

“I’ll have to work.”

“We’ll bring a piano.”

“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.

“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”

He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.

“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”

“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”

“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”

“What’s your point?”

“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.

Cosmo gaped at her.

“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”

Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it.

“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.

“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”

“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”

The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.

He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.

“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.

“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”

He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”

“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”

“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”

“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”

He blinked. “Help what?”

“Help us,” she said.

It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.

“Did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”

“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”

Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.

“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.

He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.

“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”

It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.

(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)

(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!

#singin in the rain ot3 #i might write more idk but listen like you can probably imagine the rest of it #old-timey polyamorous shenanigans on a boat #pretty straightforward stuff #there's singing there's dancing and somehow don managed to 'accidentally' book cosmo in an adjoining bedroom etc etc

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mayfieldss · 6 months

Text

Oblivious - Hazel Callahan

summary; Hazel is head over heels for you (literally) , but she doesn't think you feel the same.

AN: that's the gay shit I love.

It burned. Hazel could feel it, the sharp sting in her gut as she watched you across the classroom laughing at something Josie had said. It burned particularly now, because Hazel had come to the realization that she thought you were perfect. Hazel thought that despite your flaws, and all the things you didn't like about yourself, you were perfect for her.

She loved the way you would smile at her when you caught her staring, the way you would wave. She loved the way you would pull on your earlobe when having a conversation, as if it helped you think of your next sentence.

You weren't straight—you'd hinted that to Hazel enough times for her to finally catch your drift—but still Hazel didn't think you could like her in any way other than platonic. She was clumsy and terrible with social cues, and she had a large expanse of button up shirts that looked as though she'd stolen them from her uncle in his forties. But the way you smiled at her, and complimented her mid-life-crisis themed fashion sense, the more Hazel fell for you. That's where the clumsiness came in.

Hazel swore every time she saw you, her legs would give out. Her ankles would twist at unnatural angles, her hand would lose its grip on whatever she was holding. She would fall, stumble or drop something, no matter how many times she tried to stay upright. And each time, you would reach out to help her. That could have been because helping was a natural response in such a situation, but Hazel interpreted it differently. It was just another thing to add to her list.

You were perfect for her.

But she wasn't perfect for you.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to sit together? like in class?" Hazel doesn't know what she's saying, but she's just stopped you in the hallway, Josie by your side. Whether it was jealousy or general Hazel interest, she didn't know, but somehow she was talking and couldn't quite stop. "Because we haven't ever sat together before, and I thought maybe you'd want to. Sit with me, I mean."

You're smiling at her, mouth slightly agape, and Hazel's heart starts its routine of bouncing along the walls of her ribcage. "You don't have to, obviously but—"

"I'd love to sit with you Hazel." You put a stop to her rambling with the answer, and for a moment Hazel doesn't know what to do. She's grinning like an idiot, eyes locked to yours, just long enough to make it weird.

"See you in class, Hazel." you go to move past her, Josie still beside you, and Hazel allows herself an awkward wave.

"Okay, yeah, see you." she's nodding profusely and continues to wave even when your back is turned. She can't stop. You're like a dream she always wants to have. Tomorrow in class, she'll see you again, hopefully sitting closer this time, and maybe she'll never have to wake up.

"Heyyyyy" Hazel hates the way she greets you, the way she says one simple word. She hates the strange flip of her stomach when you sit down beside her. She hates the way her chair squeaks when she discreetly tries to inch closer. The one thing Hazel doesn't hate, is you.

"Hey," you reply, all warm smiles and gentle eyes. You look happy to see her, at least from what Hazel can interpret, which must be a good sign.

"How are you?" Your shoulder brushes Hazel's as she asks, and her whole body seems to rewire itself around the touch. You don't react to the sensation at all, but turn to look at her. Hazel can feel her face shifting colors, cheeks flushed pink as if she's just run a marathon.

"I'm okay, I bumped into Jeff earlier though. He's makes my skin crawl, I swear." you fake a shiver for dramatic effect, "How about you?"

Hazel responds too fast, unblinking and in a panic. "Oh yeah, I swear too."

All you do is laugh, a soft sound that relieves the tension hidden within Hazel's shoulders. "I know you swear Hazel, I've heard you. I meant how are you?" You place one hand on top of Hazel's on the desk, a sweet gesture. A kind one. You're not judging her, or making fun. Not like everyone else.

"Oh, yeah I'm good." Hazel's eyes drift to your hand atop her own. She's trying to memorize the feeling without making it obvious. "I'm really good, totally great."

"That's good." You're still looking at her, but you pull your hand away when you notice Hazel's lack of eye contact. Instead, you go to grab your books, pulling them out one by one from your bag. Hazel has never wanted to be a history textbook more in her life.

"Did you want me to beat him up?" the words come out before Hazel can stop them, your movements pausing as you register the sentence.

"What?" there's a confused chuckle within the word as you turn back to Hazel, frown deepening.

"Jeff, You said he was bothering you. Did you want me to beat him up?" Hazel is serious, or at least she thinks she is when she says it. She would most definitely fight someone for you. You just had to say the word.

As Hazel watches, a grin begins to creep onto your face again. She likes the look on you, and tries to mimic the expression in return, though she doubts she looks as ethereal. "You're funny, you know that?"

Hazel wants to say something in response, she has the words on her lips "You're pretty, you know that?" but she doesn't get to say them. Before she can, she's interrupted, the teacher more than irritated with the continuing conversation. He shushes the both of you, a finger to his lips, before going back to writing on the blackboard. Hazel thinks of saying something anyway, but when she turns back your way, you're already hard at work, nose in your books.

Hazel will try again tomorrow, and maybe she'll get it right when she does.

The first thing Hazel sees are the tears. The gentle swell of water in your eyes, and the lines it traces as it falls down your cheeks. She's never seen you cry, and honestly it makes her far sadder than it should for someone who is just supposed to be your friendly acquaintance. But seeing you in this different light, one that reflects off your tearstained cheeks, doesn't make her love you less.

In seconds, she's jogging your way, jumping in front of you as she calls your name. You almost bump into her as you come to a sudden stop, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Are you okay? Why are you crying?" Hazel doesn't know if she should reach out to touch you or not, and watches as you sink the ground in the courtyard. It's almost empty save for the two of you, everyone else on their way to class. Hazel follows suit, and crouches down into a spiderman like position.

"I'm okay," You try for a smile, but it falls short, taking a slice of Hazel's heart with it as it hits the floor. "I've just had a rough day."

"Is there anything I can do? I can run and get you those little cookies you like from the store just down the road if you want." Hazel is swaying a little in her odd position, as if she could blow over with a gust of wind, and you look just a little calmer somehow. You shake your head no, and this time a smile comes easier, though it's not as bright as usual.

"Thanks Hazel, but it's okay, really."

You don't look as distressed as before but Hazel still wants to go and buy you expensive cookies to mend the possible hole in your heart. Even whilst sniffling away your sadness, she can't take her eyes off of you, but somehow she still doesn't see it coming.

It took Hazel more than a moment to register what was happening when you shuffled toward her, and her brain began to short circuit more than usual when your lips got a lot closer to hers than they had ever been before. She fell over of course, forward rolling headfirst thanks to her awkward position and extreme panic, avoiding the kiss in a way never seen before.

Instantly, you jolt back, red flush consuming your neck and cheeks at an alarming rate. "I am so sorry Hazel, I thought there was something—I thought there was like a thing... I don't know what I thought." You stand abruptly, stumbling backward as Hazel makes her own way to her feet. She's got dust on her jeans as she rises, and an audacious smile snaking its way onto her expression.

"Did you just try to kiss me?"

Hazel watches as you shift on your feet, looking near tears again after all that had happened. "I'm sorry," you say again, a hand coming up to cover your mouth in shame, muffling your next words. "I thought you liked me too, I don't know what came over me."

There's a loud ringing in Hazel's ears from then on, a buzzing that blocks out everything except for you as her brain processes it all, working to take step after step in your direction. She reaches up, when close enough, and pulls your hand away from your lips, holding it in her own.

"Can I kiss you?" Her voice is quiet, but her smile is more than present as she waits for your response. A response she's been wanting for months, to a question she'd always been too afraid to ask.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

BOTTOMS TAGLIST: empty

AN: not my best work but it's gay enough

reblogs are appreciated!

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tropicalcryptid · 6 months

Text

Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

#spop #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #horde prime #Spacebat #Deep character analysis #Gotta love clever writing #Seriously I could go on about this show for ages #I just love the characterization for everyone but especially Hordak #Best spacebat #I mean I love Wrong Hordak too but you know

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wheneclipsefalls · 25 days

Text

Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too.

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him.

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder.

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.”

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku.

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal.

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask.

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives.

“Who?”

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?”

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.”

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation.

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.”

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.”

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused.

“Why?”

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?”

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own.

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.”

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell.

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice.

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood.

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.”

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully.

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.” It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of.

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress.

“Yeah.” He says shortly.

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you.

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words.

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end.

It won’t be.

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?”

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze.

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.”

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out.

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you.

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path.

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week.

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal.

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course.

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.”

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile.

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines.

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint.

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame.

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold.

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned.

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.”

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below.

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.”

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start.

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship.

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat.

You pray that they never fall on you again.

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward.

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention.

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity.

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him.

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place.

Pain?

Hatred?

Guilt?

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro.

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had.

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge.

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all.

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery.

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly.

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected.

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building.

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room.

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster.

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list.

Piece of cake.

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope.

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to.

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear.

“You’re an idiot.” She says.

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent.

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.”

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!”

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all.

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly.

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end.

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response.

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance.

You can hardly believe your luck.

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all.

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now.

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do.

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway.

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes.

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it.

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case.

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care.

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board.

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down.

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box.

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space.

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl.

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?”

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away.

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.”

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear.

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.”

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you.

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.”

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world.

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties.

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with.

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together.

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.”

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly.

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly.

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start.

You make one fatal mistake, however.

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times.

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him.

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away.

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.”

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention.

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck.

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!”

“Quiet, pet.”

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place.

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping.

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together.

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life.

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts.

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor.

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage.

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can.

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you.

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak.

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize.

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.”

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape.

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.”

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi.

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom.

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment.

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly.

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat.

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.”

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before.

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading.

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!”

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land.

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!”

The sound of slapping skin stops.

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish.

“Repeat, pet.”

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears.

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning.

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!”

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be.

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.”

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips.

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment.

Well, maybe not the source per say.

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels.

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you.

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket.

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy.

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling.

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here.

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report.

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns.

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned.

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath.

It stops.

You breathe.

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite.

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male.

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched.

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother.

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time.

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place.

Lo’ak’s grin is feral.

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible.

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours.

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright.

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change.

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button.

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground.

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest.

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm.

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later.

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully.

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks.

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now.

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest.

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching.

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs.

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more.

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak.

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air.

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless.

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships.

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

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