#no other way to put it it feels like a betrayal that this adult who i trusted & all that turned out to be. this. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wheneclipsefalls · 16 days

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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

Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty

Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

a shore thing

bucky barnes x fem reader

i decided to write it hehe

a/n: any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo

Bucky calls your name for the umpteenth time, beyond exasperated as you stumble away, giggling uncontrollably as you evade capture. He's hardly tipsy anymore, having decided to nurse a single beer for the last couple hours when he noticed how heavy you were drinking. Somebody needed to be responsible, he told himself. Even Steve was letting loose more than usual. But, to be fair, they were all on vacation.

“Guys, the taxis are here,” Nat announces, yet again, leaning heavily against one of said vehicles. “Bucky, we gotta go.”

“I’m trying my best here,” he replies. Although, that's not entirely true. “Someone should've cut her off ages ago.”

“Boooooo,” you heckle as you run past him.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Fine. You can stay here by yourself.”

You pause abruptly, almost tripping over your own feet, but you catch yourself before you face-plant into the gravel. “You're leaving me?” you ask in a pitiful tone.

“Yup.” Bucky turns and takes a few steps away, hearing you whine in protest. “Have fun.”

“Noooo, wait!”

Your uneven steps come closer and closer to Bucky and as soon as he gauges you're within arm’s reach he spins around with a smirk. It makes you lurch to a stop, gasping as it dawns on you.

“Betrayal!” you shout, pointing an accusatory finger at him. You try to take off running again, but Bucky is quicker. You're swooped up into a fireman’s carry before you even register your feet leaving the ground. “Ack! Put me down, you absolute caveman!”

Sam sticks his head out of the taxi. “There's room in this one.”

Bucky steers his steps that way, feeling your tiny fists beating his back the whole way, and plops you into the open seat. You let out a cute oof that he ignores as he tries to latch the seatbelt. You're a squirmy little shit though, and he soon finds that the only way he’ll be able to get the group back to the hotel is to enter the taxi himself and pull you into his lap. He quickly shuts the door and finally latches the seatbelt around the both of you, telling the driver to go.

Sam shakes his head in amusement in the seat beside Bucky. “You're seriously the only one who can rally that firecracker of a woman.”

“Hey!” you object with a pout. “I'm drunkies, not deaf. I can still hear you.”

You and Sam begin bickering and Bucky rolls his eyes, but he doesn't do anything to interfere. He's too busy trying to think about literally anything else other than the ginormous mistake he made by placing you on his lap. You, the person he's been in love with for far too long now, who has absolutely no clue of his feelings and sends constant mixed signals.

There are days he's sure you feel the same with the way you look at him, but then the next day you go out of your way to make sure he knows the two of you are just friends. He's losing his fucking mind. He doesn't know if he should tell you how he feels or try to move on.

You're wiggling suddenly, body jostling atop Bucky’s and his mind is forced to return to the present, only to see you and Sam slap-fighting like children.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he addresses the driver, “I swear they're actually adults when they're not three sheets to the wind.”

The driver waves off the apology with a chuckle. The fight ends with you pinching Sam’s nipple, his cry of pain and outrage making you giggle wildly and throw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. After you catch your breath you sit up and wiggle some more until you're sitting sideways and can look at Bucky. Your eyes are glassy and your smile is sly and a touch wonky, and Bucky still thinks you're the cutest, sexiest woman he's ever known.

“Why don't you like me for real?”

The taxi is uncomfortably quiet. Bucky blinks a few times, shifting his gaze to Sam, who’s suddenly very interested in the passing streetlights and palm trees outside the window. Traitor, Bucky thinks. With no help from his supposed friend, Bucky looks back to you.

He clears his throat. “I do like you.”

“No,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I mean like, like me like me. Like, more.”

Bucky is silent again, his mind whirling with a million questions–the biggest one being what the fuck?

“I'm not sure what you mean,” he says carefully. He hopes playing dumb will work in deterring the conversation, but he should've known better.

“You always just joke about it, but you never mean it. Always get my hopes up.”

“What are you talking about?” he blurts, truly flabbergasted, but he cuts you off before you can reply. “No, don't answer that. You're drunk, okay? You don't know what you're saying.”

You poke his cheek roughly, pouting. “I just want you to like me back, Buck. Wanna kiss you whenever I want.”

Bucky swallows thickly, unable to take his eyes away from yours as you lean in closer.

“Don't you wanna kiss me?” you question, reaching up you play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?”

Your lips graze his, a feather-light touch, and he exhales shakily. Of fucking course he wants to kiss you. He's wanted nothing else for the last year. But he doesn't want it like this. He says your name, voice low in warning. You either don't hear him or you don't care.

Bucky’s eyes flutter closed as you continue pressing light kisses to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin, along his jaw. He fists his hands where they rest on either side of you, praying for the will to remain strong.

“You're drunk,” he repeats, a last ditch effort in getting you to stop, but even he can hear how weak the protest is.

“I still know what I want, what I feel.” You brush your nose against his. “I want you.”

Sam coughs pointedly beside both of you. “We’re here.”

Bucky is quick to unlatch the seatbelt and help you out of the car. Nat walks over and grabs your hand, Steve walking leisurely behind her.

“Let's go to bed, please,” she begs as she drags you with her.

You begin whining again, reminding Bucky of your inebriated state. He shouldn't have let you kiss him. You're not going to remember any of this tomorrow. Guilt punches him in the gut. He's so fucking weak when it comes to you.

“I wanna sleep with Bucky,” you complain as you resist.

Natasha squawks. “What?!” Her eyes are as wide as saucers, flicking back and forth from you and Bucky. Sam fails to hide his snort.

“His bed is bigger,” you explain, “You take up too much space.”

Natasha gasps. “How dare you!”

You turn to Bucky with pleading eyes. “Bucky, please let me sleep with you.”

“I… I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he replies.

You stomp your foot. “Pleeeease?” Your pout is lethal. “I promise I won't take up too much space.”

Sam puts his hand over Nat’s mouth before she can start yelling, doing his best to frogmarch her into the hotel so they don't cause a disturbance. Steve follows languidly, which is the sign that he's quickly coming down from his drunken high and will likely crash the moment his head hits the pillow.

“You should just sleep in your room with Nat,” Bucky advises.

“I don't wanna sleep with her,” you say, stepping back into Bucky’s space. One of your hands grasps his shirt, the other trailing across his chest. He fights the shiver threatening to run down his spine. “I wanna cuddle you.”

You look up at him through your lashes and Bucky knows he's lost. He sighs. You grin and giggle, grabbing his hand to lead him inside the hotel. He's quiet the whole ride up in the elevator. Your head is resting on his shoulder, humming along to whatever song is playing in your head. You’re still holding his hand.

When you're both standing in front of his room door, Bucky pauses, about to try one last time to get you to go two rooms down to the one you're supposed to be sharing with Nat, but you snatch the key card out of his hand and open the door before a word can leave his mouth. He doesn't trust you to be alone right now, and with Sam babysitting Nat and Steve probably snoring away in his own room, Bucky accepts his fate. He enters the room, closing the door with resignation.

“Ugh, god, these heels are the worst,” you grumble as you trip your way over to sit on the bed. You fight with the small buckle before making a noise of complaint. “Buckyyy…”

“Jesus,” he mutters, huffing as he walks to you.

He kneels in front of you and carefully takes your shoes off. You hum, pleased, once your feet are free, wiggling your toes.

“Why do you wear them if you hate them so much?” he mumbles.

“Because they make my legs and ass look fantastic, duh.”

Well. That's fair, Bucky supposes.

“Can you unzip me now?”

Fuck. Bucky chokes on nothing.

“Unzip you? What are you planning on sleeping in? Your pajamas are in your room,” he points out.

“Can't I borrow one of your shirts?” you ask, blinking innocent eyes up at him.

He doesn't trust it one bit.

“Please, Bucky? My dress won't be comfortable.”

Your pout makes yet another appearance. He doesn't bother pointing out that you wouldn't have this problem if you went to your own room. You'd ignore him anyway.

“Fine,” he grumbles. He rifles through his bag to find a shirt for you, grabbing pajamas for himself while he's at it. “I'll go change in the bathroom.”

He turns to head that way, but you stop him.

“My dress,” you remind him, spinning around and pointing at the zip.

Bucky's pretty sure you could do this by yourself, but he's just ready to go to bed at this point, so he’ll do whatever he has to to get there. He tries not to put too much thought into the action, but his mind can't help but wander, imagining unzipping your dress with different intentions. The more skin that is revealed to him, the more his breathing picks up. He takes note that you didn't wear a bra with this dress, which makes him realize you'll be wearing his shirt with only your underwear beneath it. He curses mentally.

He steps away like he's been burned once the zipper reaches the bottom. “There you go,” he says, voice gruff.

He doesn't wait for your response, quickly escaping into the bathroom before anything else can be asked of him. It doesn't take Bucky long to change his clothes, but he still lingers in the small space to gather his wits, taking his time as he brushes his teeth, and even splashes some cold water on his face. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment.

“She’ll forget all of this by morning,” he assures himself.

He's not fond of the way that statement makes his stomach twist.

When he leaves the bathroom, he finds your dress pooled on the floor in the same spot you stood as he unzipped it. You're standing next to the bed, fidgeting with the hem of Bucky’s shirt that hangs off your small frame. He raises a quizzical brow.

“I don't know which side you prefer,” you say, unsure.

Bucky feels himself soften at your expression. “I'm good either way.”

You dart for the left side, lifting the comforter and sheets and snuggling underneath them. Bucky's lips twitch, but he resists smiling.

“C’mon, Buck, I want cuddles,” you entice, patting the spot beside you exaggeratedly.

He only hesitates for a split second. It's late and exhaustion is settling in his bones. He’ll worry about consequences in the morning.

You waste no time in invading his space once he's in the bed. You nudge his arm until he lifts it, worming your way under it and placing your head on his chest, your own arm slung over his waist. Bucky goes still, holding his breath until you get comfortable. Slowly, he lets his arm fall across your back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hm?”

You nuzzle into his pec. “Love you.”

Bucky's eyes snap open then. His heart begins hammering in his chest and he prays that you're close enough to sleep to not notice.

“Goodnight,” he rasps after a minute passes by.

Your only reply is a light snore. Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest.

The next morning, Bucky lies awake, staring at the ceiling. He's not sure exactly how much sleep he got, but it wasn't a lot. You only got clingier as you slept, practically wrapping your whole body around him.

Bucky is a weak, weak man.

Sunlight begins peeking through the curtains, eventually finding its way to the bed and across your closed eyes. A frown forms between your brows and he almost smoothes it with his thumb. The only reason he stops himself is because you groan and turn away before he can.

“Turn it off,” you croak.

“The sun?” he retorts with a laugh.

“Yes,” you reply derisively. “Kick its ass for waking me up.”

Bucky smiles to himself. “Whatever you want, my love.”

It feels like the room freezes in time after the endearment escapes him. With a jolt, you sit up and face him. Bucky can't read your expression, but that's mostly because he's doing his best to look anywhere but your face.

“Seriously?” you gripe. “You're still going to poke fun about that kind of shit even after what I said last night?”

That gets his attention pretty easily. He meets your gaze and hates the dejected look on your face.

“What–what are you talking about?” he questions, thrown.

Your chin wobbles slightly before you scoff, whipping the comforter off your body as you attempt to leave the bed, but Bucky sits up and grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Wait–”

“Let go of me,” you demand, refusing to look at him.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he replies firmly.

You turn to him with a glare. “You're still joking about my feelings for you, even though I made it perfectly clear how I felt last night.”

“Felt? You… you don't feel the same anymore?” He's grasping for straws here. “I thought–I mean, I didn't think you were serious. You were drunk, I…”

“It doesn't matter if I still feel the same or not,” you reply, the fight leaving your body.

“Yes, it does!” he exclaims. “God, of course it fucking matters. If you have feelings for me, I need to know.”

“Have I not made it abundantly clear already?!” you retort. “If you're that fucking dense, then here you go: I'm fucking in love with you, you big, stupid, gigantic ass–”

He cuts you off by dragging your body to his and kissing you. You make a sound of shock, but you don't push him away, so he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and flicking his tongue at the seam of your lips. You open for him with a gasp, your tongue meeting his and making you both moan. He pulls away, chest heaving.

“We're both stupid,” he declares. “I'm in love with you too. I thought you were the one not taking it seriously.”

Your dazed expression begins clearing and realization sets in. “Oh my god,” you mumble as you yank him back into a kiss that has him reeling.

“Do you know,” he starts between kisses, “how fucking hard it was—to be a gentleman last night?”

You giggle. “I was hoping you wouldn't be a gentleman.”

Bucky curses, manhandling you until you're flat on your back. “That can be arranged.”

“Promises, promises,” you goad, biting your lip.

“Exactly,” he replies, lips tugging into a smirk.

Needless to say, the two of you have to put up with merciless teasing for the rest of the trip… But it's worth it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader

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grendelsmilf · 1 year

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i still find it so interesting how jackie is (was?) largely defined by her niceness, her friendliness. she's not the strongest, or the smartest, but she can bring people together. so when she is mean to the other girls, you notice it. she's mean to taissa when she feels like her position as leader is undermined; she knows that taissa is just as much of their leader as she is and it scares her. she's mean to shauna when she finds out about jeff; understandable considering what a huge betrayal it is (at least on the surface). but the girl she is by far the meanest to is nat.

and there is no good reason why anyone should be mean to nat. she is kind of treated as a punching bag, and taissa especially resents her because she doesn't like the idea of nat threatening the team's performance with her day-drinking or whatever. but nat is by far the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate, genuine member of the team. even as an adult you can see that she might be jaded and grieving and ruthless, but she's still at her core a good person. young natalie especially though is someone with a very strong moral center and uses those guiding principles of kindness to define who she is.

she's more mature, capable, and sure of herself than the rest of the group, because before ever landing in that forest, she's had a much harder life than the rest of them. we see that van probably doesn't have the best home life, but the rest of them are living comfortably. even if they don't have great relationships with their parents, they still live in middle to upper class households. nat grew up in a trailer park with a father who horribly abused her and her mother (until the day she witnessed him accidentally shoot his own face off). these circumstances made nat more resilient, braver, and more empathetic than the other girls.

and i think jackie recognizes that, whether or not it's a conscious recognition. she knows that nat is everything she herself is not. nat is confident in herself whereas jackie is terribly insecure and relies on external validation to uphold her own identity. where nat comes from poverty, jackie grew up in a huge house. where nat is comfortable having sex with boys, jackie is too repressed to have sex with her longterm boyfriend because she's terrified of having to confront the fact that she won't actually like it. natalie expresses herself through alt/grunge fashion, music, and culture, whereas jackie is as preppy as it is physically possible to be. natalie is jackie's perfect opposite: a poor outcast who is nevertheless comfortable enough in her own (hetero)sexuality to present in a (gender) non-conforming way and not care what others think of her to jackie's rich popular prom queen soccer captain who is debilitatingly insecure and sexually repressed, conforming perfectly to society's expectations of her to the point that she'd rather die than explore the possibility that she might like girls.

jackie has negative interest in travis, but she breaks him and nat up and steals him from her anyway. and the thing is, nat doesn't even care. she forgives jackie. when lottie locks jackie in the closet (ha), nat is the one who comes to her rescue. when travis apologizes to nat for sleeping with jackie, she says it doesn't matter to her. jackie is horrible to nat, but nat is genuinely mature enough that it doesn't even bother her. jackie wears her insecurities on her sleeve, and nat sees right through her. she doesn't put up with jackie's bullshit, but she's also gracious enough to not gang up on jackie with the rest of the girls, even though she's the only one who actually has any right to be mad at her. nat is generally apart from the rest of the team, not only because she's an outcast, but because she's simply above their petty dramas.

jackie doesn't have a good reason to be mean to her. she's the kindest, sweetest girl on the team. but jackie is mean when she feels threatened, and nat's existence threatens her very identity.

#i know lottie and nat are foils #but jackie and nat are foils too!!!#the jackie lottie nat triangle #society vs mysticism vs self reliance #conformity spirituality skepticism #have i mentioned lately how much i love nat #like she's such a brilliant character #because her aesthetics are so deceiving #as misty says she looks she could stab you #but shes literally the nicest sweetest kindest person ever #maybe not adult nat but like. the only person she had left was murdered by a cult #if her grief isnt exactly pretty who are we to judge #o.tv #i know ive said smth along these exact lines before btw #but i think abt it a lot ok!#yellowjackets #100

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spideymichelle · 1 year

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me explaining through my tears that zoya's and the darkling's dynamic goes way deeper (in the books) and it says a lot about zoya's relationship with authority and power but also safety as a whole because of the (almost) parental nature of their relationship like the darkling is already playing favorites with her by the time she is 13

they are close enough for him to pick her over a lot of the older grisha's at the little palace for the possibility of getting an amplifier something we know is so special and not something just anyone could have yet he gave zoya that opportunity and when she felt like she failed him for protecting and releasing the cubs it broke her in a million pieces because she doesn't want to disappoint him

the darkling represented grisha's as a whole. he was their leader, their protector in a world that hates them and wants them eradicated, for a power they were born with. it is the way the little palace was meant to be a sanctuary for grisha's to feel safe, a place where zoya felt safe, yet it was the darkling was the first to completely destroy it and kill any grisha that wasn't on his side he was their biggest protector and he killed them in cold blood like that absolute betrayal

it wasn't just about her losing her aunt, he took away her home, the home she made with her aunt and lada and the one she made at the little palace the friends she made he took everything from her because she believed him when he said they would change the world together like she put so much trust in him, she gave him her power and he broke it so easily that wound just festered on because the darkling betrayed her just like her mother did in the past

and it just parallels the darkling with her mother so well because as a young child just wanted to make her mother happy which meant getting the highest grades, eating only half her meals so her mother could eat the rest, and stealing fruit from the duke's garden so her mother could eat them something she could get severely punished for by the duke zoya a young commoner girl who is from suli descent like she could have died but her mother never stopped her from taking them again and again and didn't her mother truly never saw her other than a pretty face that she could capitalize out of

zoya didn't make a sound on her wedding, didn't cry a single tear on her wedding, and never spoke out because she couldn't bear making her mother angry until the only person who ever spoke up for her was her aunt who almost beat to death for speaking up for her and even then could only be spent little over 2 months with her (mostly on the streets) before being separated for the next 7 years when she first goes back when she is 16. (they did write to each other)

the only adult that "cares" for her was the darkling he had continuous access to her, to groom her, to make her his perfect little girl. she is so desperate to impress him, to be around him, to be noticed, and worst of all he does. he gives her privileges, the important missions and she gets to ride his coach with him like he makes it known and clear that she is special, unlike her mother he gives her the attention she wants. but it doesn't really mean anything to him

he has no issue switching her out with alina sending her faraway as a punishment just like her mother had no issue selling her to a man old enough to have grandchildren of her age

zoya being stuck in a vicious cycle of being abused by people who should be protecting her

and it just speaks volumes that is zoya is the one who advocates for the darkling's victims because if she doesn't speak for alina, genya, liliyana and baghra who will

it speaks to her relationship with nina, her worries, her concerns about her, i wonder if all she sees is a beautiful and powerful girl with a deep love for her country with no support, no family i wonder if she sees herself so desperately trying to prove herself to the world

basically zoya co-wrote would've, could've, should've

*will be edited after i had a good night of rest and crack open the books again

#since exactly one person asked here it is #zoya nazyalensky #the darkling #sorry if this doesn't make sense i wrote this when going insane #aleksander morovoza #alina starkov #zoyalai #please talk zoya to me

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stylographic-blue-rhapsody · 5 months

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I was deep in my drunk feelings when I made a joke post threatening to write about episode 5 symbolism and mizu, but then enough people said "where is the essay" so I am here to ramble as requested

in ep 5, the tale told in the puppet show spliced with the flashback sequence of mizu’s marriage identifies mizu as not only the ronin, but also the bride and, with tragedy, the onryō. I would argue that mizu is also depicted (in a less linear fashion) as the phoenix itself, and will circle back to this thought later

mizu is first presented as the ronin, the warrior with a singular purpose. as the ronin’s lord is assassinated by the rival clan, mizu’s mother is killed in the house fire. the ronin swears his revenge, and dedicates his life to this cause. through his childhood and into his young adult life when he departs from swordfather, mizu is exclusively the ronin. he is not the onryō yet, demonstrated in his honorable unwillingness to harm the men who stab him and throw him out of the shop even after he insists that he wasn't looking for a fight in the first place

the ronin is only able to rest and put away his mission when he meets the bride, the lover. however, mizu’s bride is not literally another person she meets. the bride is not mama, or mikio, but the lover mizu discovers in herself, the one allowed to bloom in place of mizu-as-ronin. mizu’s growth into the bride from the ronin occurs over time, but solidifies in the moment when kai is gifted to her by mikio, paralleling the taming of her own distrust and expectations of being hurt. (side note, giving a nod to effective use of color: the bride puppet, dressed in reds and oranges, has matching coloring to the gifting scene, as it takes place in autumn)

mizu’s transformation into the onryō happens in two parts, beginning with the slaying of the bride and completing with the slaying of the ronin. the betrayal by mikio and mama kills the softness in mizu, kills the lover she has allowed herself to become. mizu-as-onryō retaliates by killing the ronin: the part of himself that hesitates before striking, that part that cares for honor. in not intervening in mama’s death and then murdering mikio in turn, mizu kills the ronin in himself, slaughtering it in retribution for the dead bride

mizu is both the bride and the ronin, peaceful lover and noble warrior, until he is not—he is the onryō, only the onryō. episode 5 opens with the narrator saying, “no one man can defeat an army, but one creature can.” only as the onryō, and not as the ronin or the bride, does mizu have the force of will and capacity for violence it takes to singlehandedly overcome boss hamata’s thousand claw army and protect the brothel

mizu’s identity and place in the world is a constant dialogue. he is too white to have a respectable place in japanese society, but is also seen by abijah (our stand-in for white british society) as filthy and corrupted. he is not perceived as enough of a man to walk through life wholly as one (madame kaji’s comments about his apparent lack of sexual desires, his bones breaking “like a woman’s” under fowler’s hands, his disregard for honor and recognition as a samurai). she is also not enough of a woman to exist peacefully as one with mikio (she is a swordsman, an accomplished rider, bad at domesticity; “what woman doesn’t want a husband?” mama chastises)

the moment when mikio rejects her completely following their spar is a particularly poignant narrative beat about tolerance of “the other” in gender presentation: mikio can accept her as a woman only until she bests him at manhood, at the sword, at violence. she is Other in that she is physically strong, a poor cook, able to wield a sword. these traits are all tolerable to mikio, also an outcast, so long as she is not so Other as to be a man. but her swordsmanship bests his, and bests his in the way the sun outshines a candle. it is too Other, and therefore she is not a woman. she is a monster to him, the onryō, even before she kills the bride and the ronin in herself

(( as an aside, this series does a very good job at discussing the oft-challenging relationship between race and gender (e.g. that it is difficult for mizu to live as a biracial man, but would be deadly for her to live as a biracial woman), and demonstrating how queerness of identity complicates that relationship even further—but that’s a topic for a different post ))

as the narrative has been building on this idea that mizu is both the ronin and the bride, the man and the woman, japanese and white, episode 5 concludes with the heartbreaking reveal that, although mizu is all of these things simultaneously, he has had these identities beaten out of him by tragedy and cruelty and his own self-loathing hand

but mizu does not stagnate as the monster. we return to the metaphor of steel: too pure and it becomes brittle, breaking under pressure. mizu is a sword, a weapon that he has forged for the sole purpose of revenge and blood, but he has excised too much of himself to successfully deliver on his goals—he is not the ronin or the bride, he is the onryō; she is not a woman or a man, she is the onryō; the onryō is nothing but pain and vengeance—and so it breaks

“perhaps a demon cannot make steel,” mizu says. “I am a bad artist”

swordfather replies, “an artist gives all they have to the art, the whole. your strengths and deficiencies, your loves and shames. perhaps the people you collected… if you do not invite the whole, the demon takes two chairs, and your art will suffer”

to be reforged, mizu must not only acknowledge the impurities she has beaten out of her blade, out of herself, but lovingly, radically accept them and reincorporate them into the blade, into herself. he adds impure steel—the people he has collected, with their own dualities—to the sheared meteorite sword: the broken blade that fit so perfectly in taigen’s hand (the archetypal ronin, but a man seeking happiness over glory), the knife akemi tried to murder mizu with (the archetypal bride, but with ambition for greatness), the bell given to ringo and returned to mizu in broken trust (the man unable to hold a sword, but upholding samurai principles of honor and wisdom), the tongs that honed mizu’s smithcraft under swordfather’s guidance (the artisan, a blind man who sees more than most). to make of herself a blade strong enough to see her promises through, she must hold her monstrosity and honor and compassion and artistry in equal import

she is the onryō, and the ronin, and the bride, and all the people she has collected.

with this we finally come to mizu as the phoenix. mizu undergoes many cycles of death and rebirth, both in the main storyline and the flashbacks into her life leading up to the present. often, mizu is juxtaposed against literal flames—the burning of his childhood home, swordfather’s forge, the fire as he battles the giant in the infiltrated castle, the heart sutra forge of her own making, the climactic second confrontation with fowler. not every death/rebirth mizu undergoes is thematic to flame, of course. the fight with the four fangs, spliced with the rebirth ceremony of the town, for example, or the deaths of her ronin-self and bride-self, giving rise to the onryō

he is the phoenix, unable to truly die: every fatal combat he pulls back from the brink, reborn over and over in the wake of failure and setback. in episode 1, mizu prays for the gods to “let [him] die.” not to help him to face death unafraid, not to die with honor or victory, but to die at all. mizu has experienced death a thousand times over, but not once has it stuck

(( as a parting aside: the ronin’s rage at the phoenix clan for killing his lord parallels mizu’s self hatred of his mixed heritage (which he believes to be the thing that killed his mother), and so the ronin’s quest for revenge against the phoenix clan is mirrored in mizu’s quest to kill the white part of himself as best he can, by killing the white men who could be his father ))

mizu, the ronin. mizu, the bride. mizu, the onryō. mizu, the phoenix.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #hopefully this is mostly coherent #I have more things to say but this was getting lengthy #there's also a lot of gender and racial nuance I've glossed over here for an attempt at brevity and structure #god also the COLOR. do you know how much I have to say about the use of color and shadow as a reflection of the narrative #maybe I'll write another damn essay who knows #this show really scratches the part of my brain that was academically trained in film analysis #blue speaks

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celaenaeiln · 5 months

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I feel like Dick is good at making everyone view him as an equal, even when it’s not in his best interest. It’s not because he can’t reach their level or bring them up to his ofc (it’s one of his strengths!), but it leaves people looking for him in roles he shouldn’t necessarily be in. For instance, Bruce relied on a literal child to balance out his weaknesses because Dick went out of his way to be seen as a partner and friend, someone he could open up to, and that got in the way of his own needs. Then people like Deathstroke and other criminals look for him as an accomplice because he knows how to appear sympathetic while simultaneously making his skill set appeal to them, and while having their potential interest can be advantageous (like making team ups, deals, and truces easier), it’s also proven to be a pain with how their villainous disputes get personal. Obviously they’re already on opposing sides, but Dick doing what he set out to do suddenly stings if he doesn’t make the move to smooth things over. Making himself into an equal is a VERY good quality of his that I adore, but I thought it’d be fun to share some of the repercussions to it and make you think!

og post in reference

Anon, sorry for the wait, but you had me speechless.

This is such a brilliantly written speech about Dick's relationships and the impacts that I was frankly stunned by the beauty of it.

As you said, everyone relies on Dick to do everything for them. As Robin, it was mainly Bruce, the Titans, and a little Slade.

But a negative side effect of a child forced to become the equal to genius adults and metas is it results in massive insecurities and frustrations when those adults take away those responsibilities. The reason Dick wanted to quit being Robin in his later years is because he felt overwhelmingly like Bruce was treating him like a child. He had spent a decade by Bruce's side doing the exact same things. At 15 he was driving a batplane by himself while Bruce was canoodling in the back with someone. It's not even just meeting expectations, he was talking a guardianship role and responsibilities.

"Then people like Deathstroke and other criminals look for him as an accomplice because he knows how to appear sympathetic while simultaneously making his skill set appeal to them, and while having their potential interest can be advantageous (like making team ups, deals, and truces easier), it’s also proven to be a pain with how their villainous disputes get personal."

fantastic

Robin: Year One Issue #4

Because that is exactly what Dick does. He runs away from Bruce and goes undercover in Shrike's academy, an League of Assassins Instructor and he becomes the star pupil.

Robin: Year One Issue #4

The betrayal Shrike feels, it enrages him. He would've paved the entire way for him, praised him to the heavens, done everything for his pupil because he was so amazed, impressed, with Dick. He's never had another student like him.

But Dick was never really on his side

Robin: Year One Issue #4

The crying boy is Boone, the next Shrike and the one who gets defeated easily time and time again by Dick as Nightwing.

But putting his aside, the original Shrike feels the same was as Deathstroke does.

Dick's skillset is so good he easily impresses meta being and assassins but on top of which he has the emotional range to play them like a fiddle. When the villains finally realize, they're hurt and betrayed and outrages because they fell so hard for his charms and talents they never saw the betrayal coming.

Just like Slade never thought Dick would turn Rose on him.

He just has a special kind of talent that lets him do that. That's why like you said all his fights are so personal. Because his enemies know him but he knows them too and they both know what he did.

Obviously they’re already on opposing sides, but Dick doing what he set out to do suddenly stings if he doesn’t make the move to smooth things over.

That's right because betrayal isn't betrayal if they were always on your side. So when he doesn't reach out, it hurts and angers them because they fell for him and he didn't fall for them and for egotistical maniacs and people at the top of their game who don't believe in someone greater, that's unacceptable.

#dick grayson #robin dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #slade wilson #deathstroke #the shrike #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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horizon-verizon · 12 days

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Honestly as a neutral party I would prefer Jaehaera living to Daenaera being introduced. Jaehaera is an innocent, mentally disabled child and her death is needlessly cruel. Her death is the least plot relevant of all of the child deaths that have happened in the dance and it's reasonable for people to want that changed since it comes off as pointlessly cruel. Killing Alicent or even just focusing on her imprisonment more is enough to show that the greens have paid for their betrayal. At least Daenaera can still be introduced and do something else in the narrative even if she doesn't marry Aegon.

I've already explained why Jaehaera's death was plot relevant HERE and HERE.

Daenaera's entire narrative purpose was to marry Aegon and have his children to propagate the Targ line AND to become part of Aegon's mental rehabilitation from the effects of the civil war and watching his own mother get eaten burned/alive by a dragon. This is also reason why she's a fan fav in the first place; it's seen as a noble undertaking to some and a way for the Targs to move away from the greens finally. What other narrative use would you have her have?!

We can't bring up how after the War of the Roses the two fighting houses (Yorks and Lancasters) were successfully brought together in marriage to justify Jaehaera marrying and having a family with Aegon. Because:

Elizabeth of York wasn't disabled like Jaehaera

neither her nor Henry Tudor were little kids when they married

this is a fictional tale that, while modeled after some real events and people, is using them as springboards for a specific, purposefully created "message" unique to the author's

and imagine what it would being pregnant several times really be like for a very mentally incapacitated and traumatized girl like her?!!

Much less the other traumatized boy who's to be her husband? What the consummation and all the...impregnating times looked like?! Then, imagine what the family life would have been like, with these parents unable to ever connect thus the resentment is worse and their kids seeing that?

This doesn't justify Unwin Peake murdering Jaehaera, but no she never should have been married off to Aegon or anyone in the first place and that was not Unwin's doing but a larger group's--Aegon's council/patriarchal feudalism. This is what GRRM's trying to tell you, stop resisting it.

I can believe that it is the way she died and the other context of so much violence men and adults perform against women and girls in this world is what really offends people enough for them to say that somehow, this a narratively irrelevant death. Because they're just that horrified.

The feelings are valid. But the action to erase the significance of the death is not valid. You definitely can wish for a much less violent one, like a poisoning that puts her to sleep or something. The death is supposed to be tragic and make you feel that it wasn't deserved, was horrible, etc. Because it was all those things.

And to say such an untrue thing as "not narratively relevant" also leads me to suspect that some people don't like Jaehaera's death either bc they just:

wanted the greens to win in some way bc they favor them and their cause (my second linked post)

you--knowing that Daenaera will likely be black in the show IF they ever get to the Maiden's Ball--go so hard for Jaehaera bc she at least is a white girl in the universe of HotD

want excessively centrist politics to sway the story at the expense of actual understanding of why we should change and upend the status quo entirely (here the feudal entrapment of girls and women); deny a reality, discourage learning to the oppressive status quo can prevail [on this trend of neutrality]...the truth is the villains/antagonists were always the greens

AND/OR, are avoidant of facing ugly, sordid truths of oppression because they are close to it in real life and haven't found ways of separating that from collective understanding of oppressive systems/coping mechanism

Look anon, Alicent's imprisonment doesn't make up for mass death. Because it's not even just about Alicent as the individual, the grandmother, the mother, etc. It's the effect of her actions on a population. Jaehaera was one of many girls Otto AND Alicent endangered (another being Halaena). Though her actions became something much bigger than her & things went out of her control, that doesn't stop them from being hers AND having affected thousands of lives. Her main aim was to accrue power through her kids and grandkids--who she chose to risk by usurping Rhaenyra and beginning the war--the consequence is she loses said kids and grandkids through other's similar ambition. Again, bc even though those kids were noble and were supposed to be relatively safe, because they are all technically heirs or adults around them can use them accrue power (whether by killing them or through marriages or whatever), they were also targets. We could say similar for Rhaenyra's children, as what happens to her youngest 2; all of them in one way or another die because they were or could be used. however, they AND the greens' kids were all safer if the greens had not usurped Rhaenyra.

The greens were the aggressors and transgressors. The ones who started this war and looked for something out of it. They tried to act worse against Rhaenrya before/during the war AND the whole of Westeros before/during/after, thus they get the worse punishment and lose more than she did.

The entire point is that the greens lose everything, because they went after "everything". They lose everything, including their kids bc they relentlessly and hypocritically ran to obtain more power for themselves by attempting to exclude a woman from the position she never would have had without the will of a man.

They went on the basis that a girl/woman should not rule or become an heir before any direct male relatives...so Jaehaera was cut out of the line of succession by her own side of the family, thus she was also less prioritized, thus she was made into a baby factory for Aegon III. She became their last chance to get their blood to at least be part of the future line, but even that's dashed by a man who had similar ambitions as Otto and Alicent.

In trying to go against the king's word/an actual law, the greens also made it much more justified for someone to not care much for Aegon II's claim or authority...bc if you can so easily flout a king's word, why should you care about the guy you're trying to make king?! And using people who themselves are willing to be so dishonest creates a higher likelihood that they'd betray you, as similar to Ulf and Hugh betraying Rhaenyra. (And somehow, Rhaenyra is the only naive one when she expects people to follow through with their oaths 🙄)

Have you ever thought, anon, about those other girls who were maimed or terrorized into not appearing before Aegon III in the Maiden's Ball? Sure, most of them weren't disabled (Priscella Hogg was, I think), but what happens to Jaehaera is because she was girl in the way of a man's ambitions and not because she was disabled. What about all those Tumbleton folk, Bitterbridge refugees (the raped septas and girls as young as 8!), and riverland peasants--most of them children! Undoubtedly, you will have disabled children in those populations, anon. Why is Jaehaera's death so much more valuable than these mass deaths of also children? Remember that Alicent raised her kids to easier justify committing these atrocities. Maelor and Jaehaerys' deaths also reflect these events. Jaehaera's death was markedly different in meaning from theirs (to open up space for another girls who's being used) because she was female. In the first linked post, I talk about why and how people used Jaehaera's marriage to Aegon and how that reflects on her death being unique from her brothers' because of her gender.

GRRM comments, through Jaehaera and these girls and Rhaenyra what one pattern of F&B has: being female is dangerous because it is to be more of an object or property in lieu of self-concerned ambitious men to the point where the most vulnerable and those who cannot practice some of the same sort of agency can experience gruesome consequences--sometimes to become terrors themselves in their attempts to gain denied agency or defend themselves.

#jaehaera targaryen #daenaera velaryon #asoiaf asks to me #jaehaera's death #fire and blood writing #the greens vs the blacks #fandom critical #hotd fandom #green stan nonsense #fandom nonsense

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teenandbeyond · 11 months

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hi ! i’m not sure if this account is active but i just got done reading all your writing and i’m hooked , i was wondering if i could request a main timeline trunks HC of how he is as a boyfriend ! thank you!!

Trunks Imagine

What type of boyfriend he'd be

Want more from me? MasTErliSt.

I was a little confused by the term "main timeline", I'm assuming you mean not Future Trunks (teen/adult trunks at that tournament)? If I'm wrong, just let me know.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Cocky

He'd approach you thinking he'd easily get what he wants the first day you meet.

But no, you made him work for it. He loves a good competition, anyway.

Putting in work humbled him a bit by the time you started dating.

When you become a couple, he's still definitely cocky, but about you.

"Double date? Oh, I'm sure we'd outdress you both."

The type of boyfriend who encourages you to show yourself off.

Got a dress that's cut a little short? Shorts that cut low? A crop top? He doesn't mind. Wear it. Show them what they can't have.

If you feel like it'd be wrong of you, all he'll say is, "Don't sell yourself short. Flaunt what you've got, babe."

Will buy you things.

Doesn't need to have a particular reason, it could be because he just wanted to see you smile that day.

But doing things for you or with you, that's his love language.

He'd never admit it aloud, though.

Saiyan pride and all.

Spoiled brat, even with you.

He expects to get everything he wants.

So you have to train him that's not how it always works.

But sometimes you fold.

"[Naaame], you've been watching Tv for hours, come take a nap with me," he whined.

Cuddling with him always made you fold.

He knew it.

His parents are honestly pretty chill with you guys. Vegeta doesn't really bother you unless you're deemed unworthy, but considering his mindset has changed about how he judges people, it is unlikely.

If you're a sarcastic person that can stand up to Vegeta with easy banter, oh, you've got 'im. He loves a sassy person.

Bulma just teases you both when you're sickeningly cute, but she doesn't pester about much.

Though she will get on Trunks about his boyfriend skills sometimes. "Trunks, you can't go to [Name]'s house like that. At least fix your hair!"

Which feels like a betrayal to him, like, she's his mom. Who's team is she on?

Yours. Both of them are on Team [Name], low-key.

He is selfish about you and often doesn't want to share when Bulma wants to talk to you.

He's VERY loving, if affection's your thing, he will shower you with it. If not, he has plenty of other ways to show his love.

Despite being spoiled, cocky, and all that, he's still very well-mannered.

He has his father to thank for that. But he still has a potty mouth at times...Has both parents to thank for that.

Very intelligent and picks up knowledge about you quickly.

Knows a lot about tech, so he's happy to fix any problems you have with it.

Loyal to a fault, even if you're in the wrong, he's blind to it unless you don't let him be.

Protective. Like, insanely protective.

Prone to getting jealous if another guy tries to talk to you and will pout.

Will treat you like royalty, because in his eyes he already sees you as his life partner, which means you would be a royal, technically.

Often acts like you're already married and randomly decides to start acting domestically. Sometimes even teases and calls you, "(Wife/Husband/Darling/etc.)"

#trunks x reader #trunks dbz #trunks #trunks dbs #dbz #dbs x reader #dbz x reader #anime #dbz fluff #dragonball z #dbs

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coffincestuous · 3 months

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i’ve seen some people say that ashley is kind of an extreme portrayal of mental illness(es), but, from my own experience…. she’s actually a very real portrayal. all of her possessiveness, her mood swings, her dependency on andrew, her choice to not think too long about super traumatizing shit, her impulsiveness; all of those are very normal, very accurate ways mental illnesses and other disorders manifest

(andrew also shows Many signs of mental illness(es) and disorders, and so does their mom, but that’s not what this post is about!!)

i’m not going to try to diagnose her or anything, and i’ll try to keep my headcanons to myself, but i believe we can all tell that the way she thinks and acts is not exactly healthy for her or the people around her. she’s harmful to herself, andrew, and a lot of others. there’s genuinely So Much that has influenced the way she is, i kind of don’t even know where to start

she wasn’t “born evil,” like her mom says. she isn’t even “evil,” she just… doesn’t really understand. that’s not a bad thing!! she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her behavior, because no adult ever taught her. no adult ever cared enough to make sure she learned how to treat people nicely. no adult ever paid attention to her harmful behavior and tried to correct it. we see that ashley has been kind of an asshole from a very early age, and she’s always been pretty blunt with her thoughts and feelings. she hasn’t ever felt the need to sugar-coat things, to spare other’s feelings. aside from andrew, nobody has ever been genuinely nice to her, or spared her feelings, so why should she bother?

similarly, she doesn’t lie too often, unlike andrew. she doesn’t like pretending, especially not with him. she says in game, during dinner with their parents, that she can’t “keep up” with andrew’s lies. we only really see her lie of her own accord once, and she doesn’t donit very convincingly.

she doesn’t really care about anything that doesn’t concern her or andrew, which is like. The Most logical path for her feelings to take. andrew is the only person that she’s ever known who cares about her. he’s been by her side for her entire life. her parents, her neighbors, and her friends have done wrong by her, and have been driven away by her… Her. except for andrew. (we’re ignoring the chapter two decay route for this). he’s been there through everything. he’s cared when no one else has. he’s seen her at her worst and her best moments. again, no adult taught her about caring, or pretending to care. she doesn’t feel the need to mask like andrew does, and she doesn’t have a want to “fit in” to a society that has failed her and her brother. she’s been treated as an outsider for her whole life, so she probably believes she’ll never “fit in,” she’ll never be accepted, and she doesn’t need to fit in or be accepted by them.

she greatly values loyalty in her friends. we see her act this way with andrew, with nina, and with julia. she sees people chosing others over her as a betrayal. other than andrew, no one has ever chosen ashley first. that upsets her!! that would upset anyone, but it especially upsets her because no one has ever chosen her first. her parents gave andrew all of their attention, but not her. her two friends have betrayed their friendship and put andrew above her. in game, she says it herself: she should be the top priority. with every encounter, every back-and-forth, every relationship, every decision, she’s waiting to be pushed aside. she’s waiting to be discarded. with andrew, she’ll do anything in her power to make sure he doesn’t leave her, either.

i think that it’s really interesting that she really is her worst self with andrew. she’s mean, she’s violent, she’s petty and crass and acts very childish, but she generally feels safe with him. she feels comfortable with him, and doesn’t feel the need to hold herself back at all. there’s security to be found in a relationship (of any kind) that you can say terrible things and act in horrible ways and that person stays by your side. that’s a huge part what she has with andrew. she trusts him to stay by her side, despite how awfully she may act. she places a Lot of importance on his presence in her life.

even the murder and cannibalism can be attributed to mental illness (along with The Plot). the intense mood swings that she has go along with her already violent tendencies. she feels anger, frustration, annoyance, and a whole bunch of other really negative emotions that she’s never learned to cope with. a lot of people in real life use violence as an outlet for anger. plus, she doesn’t allow herself feel upset or disgusted by death, even at her own hands (if she even feels it at all). despite that, i believe that murdering her parents had to be So cathartic for her and andrew. ashley explains in the decay route why eating people makes her feel powerful and in control, and being in control is something she very obviously feels that she lacks. she’s seen as manipulative, but she doesn’t really succeed at her manipulation. she’s understandably insecure with her entire existence, so she tries to control whoever and whatever she can, and that extends to andrew, murder, as well as cooking and eating people

there’s a lot to life that is treated as “normal” and “universal,” but everyone starts with absolutely no knowledge. experiences build a person’s worldview and shapes their personality, and ashley has had very rough experiences. she is a product of abuse and neglect and mistreatment, and is a very realistic depiction of a person who has had the experiences she’s had. the game has a pretty light tone despite the content, but it being “pretty light” doesn’t take away from the amount of detail that is put into the main characters and the trauma that they’ve suffered

ashley doesn’t have to be “good” or “positive” representation to be accurate representation, and i feel like nemlei has done a fucking excellent job at making a very, very unwell person (or two or three) in a very, very unwell society, and i am so extremely excited to see more of the graves’ childhood in chapter three

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #analysis #coffin.txt #i may be projecting a little but i share so many behaviors and thought patterns with her #this game… THIS GAME!!!!#‘scary’ mental illness club rise up 💪#autism club rise up 💪

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officialgleamstar · 6 months

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okay, here's a long post talking about my thoughts on dungeons and daddies, s2ep45, hell or high father. obvious spoiler warning, im gonna be talking about the events of the episode, but this is going to be more outside the fourth wall focused/thinking about what the pacing says about the narrative, rather than actually talking about what happened in this episode!! also ive only listened to the episode once so if i missed anything, feel free to say so

to start immediately: i loved this episode, but i was also disappointed that ron, terry, and scary didn't get a full episode. but i was thinking about why that would be the case, and that lead me to the two reasons im speculating:

Beth felt that Scary's arc didn't necessitate a big ending and that it came to a clean closing with that scene

This episode shows the narrative divide between the Stampler family and the Close family

the first reason is mostly a timing thing. they included taylor in this episode as well because scary's conclusion didn't need the full run time, or maybe even lincoln's episode was longer than they wanted it to be and scary was supposed to be in that arc as well. the pacing was just a result of the past few episodes: scary has already confronted that she regrets how she treated terry, we've seen that a million times. ever since his death, she's confronted that fact again and again, and i think it makes sense that this episode would resolve that in a much quieter way than it could've. the stamplers have always been the family to resolve things 'the right way' - they show up for each other, they love each other unconditionally, they finish their arcs by holding one another in forgiveness. even if i wouldve loved a longer memory (though holy shit, WE SAW THE BETRAYAL ON SCREEN-- sorry not the point of this post), and i really hope we get some more with them in upcoming episodes, i did like how it was so sweetly resolved!!

and that sweetness leads into the bulk of my thoughts here: scary and taylor shared an episode because of how differently their memories went.

as soon as nicky went "i have a memory you weren't around for", i knew we were in for a fucking ROLLERCOASTER, and holy shit. the entire played out montage of glenn failing to be there for nicky, failing to be there for taylor, and in turn, taylor finally tells nicky to his face that he wasn't there for taylor either. taylor's fixation on the idea of redoing it all with time travel, because there is no other way, in his mind, to solve the rift in their relationship. "there's no fixing this." there's too much baggage, there's too much thats already been fucked up, and theres no way for them to come back from that. nicky is a grown adult. taylor is already in his teen years. they can form a relationship with their dad now, but no matter how well that goes, its never going to fix the childhood behind them that was already ruined. they do love each other, they're friends, but being friends doesnt equal a true good relationship. being friends doesnt mean you succeeded in parenting.

and now we contrast that with the stamplers. both terry junior and scary go into their relationship with their stepdads seeing him as an inferior replacement, as someone who could never truly be their dad. terry junior loved his biological dad, is literally named after him. scary's dad was so absent in her life that she doesnt know how to handle someone actually being there. they both refuse to take the replacement, until eventually, they learn that their stepdad's strength is that hes a new man. not a replacement, but his own full person, a person who loves them. ron put his life on the line for terry, time and time again, because he didnt want to be his own dad. terry showed up to all of scarys soccer matches, even when she refused to even acknowledge him, because he didnt want to be her bio dad. "you showed up." even though terry's memory is literally him using ron, it ends with ron forgiving him without a second thought. when scary apologizes to terry, terry takes her into his arms with a moment's hesitation.

the stamplers have a happy ending because even with how badly they've fucked up, they always showed up for their kids. the closes don't have a happy ending because they weren't in their kids' lives and they think being friends now fixes that. and that's why scary and taylor shared their episode, really. because it drives home the crucial difference between the two families

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dndads spoilers #mine #in conclusion: STREAM CHILD SUPPORT BY WOZ 💥‼️ <- sorry this is like the fourth time ive made that joke

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chez-cinnamon · 11 months

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Time is meaningless, so just Good. How are you.

I know all the puppets' personalities are essentially the same, but they clearly don't act like children's characters anymore (like wallys fuck you to fionn in that one ask;I know it was a joke but still)

When wally watches old wh reruns, or when any of the others see any, I feel like they'd get reeeallly embarrassed. And like, identity-crisissy seeing how they were before they gained sentience

Sally (on tv): I just LOVE watching MOVIES with my FRIENDS!!! What's YOUR favorite movie???

(awkwardly long pause)

That's MY favorite, too!!!!

Regular Sally: 😐😑 what the fuck

Just some thoughts to rotate in your brain. Have a Day

Abgbgfnghf I mean you're not wrong - they keep their original personalities but as the days go on they realise they've actually changed a lot from who they were before they gained sentience...

Wally, still the friendliest neighbour you could meet and still a lover of the arts, but everything he went through changed him from a once calm and silly puppet to a tired, traumatised puppet who feels responsible for their predicament, and suffers from the betrayal of his own Home.

Barnaby still loves to tell jokes and act the sly, silly scallywag he is, but inside is an unshakeable paranoia, that he might lose his neighbours and best friend for real this time, and he doesn't want that to happen. He's already lost his mama technically, and that's bad enough!

Still joyful and playful, Julie feels skittish and restricted however, in a world that sees adults as those who have to be serious, hard money making machines, where fun is looked down upon. On top of that she has technically lost her siblings.

Frank remains knowledgable and stoic, his love for butterflies never dying, but inside he hates the sudden change. He didn't want to leave Home, he didn't want it to go; thus he is prone to meltdowns every now and then.

Eddie's heart is still of gold, still clumsy as can be yet forever well meaning, but after seeing Home's carnage, he feels kind of lost. His dear post office was ripped away from him, and his dearest Frank was nearly taken too, so he will never let Frank out of his sight, no matter how overbearing he seems.

Friendly clerk Howdy remains the fast talking, smiley caterpillar he always was, and even gets a chance to let loose in the human world, but like Eddie, he so dearly misses his little bodega, even if it nearly hurt him. He now feels responsible for Frank and Eddie's behaviour, trying to keep them in check, and oh how can dealing with Fionn grind his sanity.

Once a performer, always a performer: Sally always likes to make little plays to keep everyone happy, and will make all the foolproof plans in the world to keep them safe from any dangerous humans. However even the most skilled actress can tucker herself out with people pleasing through acting, and like Howdy, arguing with Fionn puts a toll on you.

Poppy is definitely the most careful neighbour, always looking out for her friends and being there for them always. But after travelling to a whole new world, wouldn't your nerves and worries increase tenfold? Hers certainly did, bumbling and whimpering at anything bad that might happen, feeling like a burden due to her cautious nature.

Watching their old shows brings back a sad mix of hopelessness, longing and nostalgia - they may not be able to go back, it seems, but at least they can still experience their old lives one way or another, even with the occasional embarrassment at their quirks in episodes!

#real world au #*pats each of them* these puppets can fit a whole lot of trauma in them

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magpigment · 6 months

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ok so because it seems riptide is gonna be coming up on a VERY interesting point in the story in regards to reveals, with them on their way to the hole in the sea and on their way to arlin and etc etc etc, i figured i might as well put this hunch of mine here as a monument to see whether it’ll get disproven or not.

i have a feeling that chip is far more important to the story than we’ve been led to believe, not just to the story as we know it, but the WORLD of mana as a whole, or at the VERY LEAST with everything going on with the hole in the sea.

a lot of stuff is up in the air and very ambiguous, especially in regards to what actually happened to chip when down there; however, from what i remember it seems incredibly likely that he somehow learned celestial when down there, and is the only one of the og black rose pirate crew that we know of who can speak celestial and READ THE MAPS.

IN CELESTIAL.

ON CHIP, DRE, AND FINN’S AS BACKS.

from what we know, or at least what i remember, lizzy also doesn’t speak celestial. dre can’t speak celestial. finn probably doesn’t speak celestial.

it also seems that whatever caused all of them to not remember most of what happened in the black sea was INTENTIONAL.

there’s a near complete absence of memory for pretty much everyone after a certain point. with how the black sea canonically messed with dre, finn, and arlin’s memories in the one shot, corrupting their perception of their memories to make important moments to them instead be painful (as seen with arlins memory of picking up chip and taking him onto the crew being ruined with a sense of betrayal as an adult chip stabbed arlin, which i won’t even get into how that could make chip reuniting w arlin that much more tragic because arlin can only associate chip w betrayal now coupled w how many more of his memories might’ve been corrupted over the course of the past DECADE in the hole in the sea with him apparently being the most susceptible to failing the necessary save to not have his memories corrupted) which makes it incredibly likely that whatever influence the black sea has not only impacts MEMORY but also DESIRES.

this tracks w how almost all of niklaus’ deals involve people’s desires and twisting them, and when their desires corrupt them enough they begin to die and spew BLACK OOZE.

SUCH AS A CERTAIN OTHER LARGE BODY OF LIQUID COLORED SIMILARLY WITH CORRUPTIVE PROPERTIES AND TIES TO DESIRE.

in the one shot the weird egg thing and the entire area they were in dealt heavily in desire.

when corrupted people in the black sea are slain their strongest desires from when they were alive were passed on to the person who killed them (jays newfound desire to find the dread queens tomb, gillions desire to help the tree, and whatever chips desire was cuz i’ve completely forgotten but it’s probably incredibly relevant 😅).

whatever chips ties are to the hole in the sea, and possibly to the prophecy, and the entirety of the black rose pirates legacy, i feel like we’re gonna find that a lot of the things regarding chips past is gonna be a whole lot more important to mana than we thought.

and i’m incredibly excited.

#idk how coherent this is or if i worded it properly but yeah basically a whole lot of chips deal doesn’t make a whole lot of sense yet #and i’m very very excited to see what’s the explanation. cuz i feel like it might get addressed pretty soon.#might add more if i think of it later but this is what i remembered rn #dandy talks #jrwi #jrwi riptide #jrwi spoilers #jrwi analysis #jrwi chip #chip bastard #chip lastname #bop enjoy lmao

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homoeroticbetrayal · 1 year

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Iconic Homoerotic Betrayal: Round 1

Round 1 Directory

Context (they're really good very passionate):

Nagi/Reo (Blue Lock)

basicallt bluelock is a soccer program being funded by the soccer association (i swear i know soccer im tryna speed through this) theyre tryna make it so japan wins the world cup and to do so you need a strong striker. so they gathered all the young adults (hs graduates) and put them in this program, which, if you're eliminated, you dont have a career in soccer at ALL. they didnt know this walking into it :p. so reo and nagi met in school and reo saw him (rich kid, gets what he wants but doesnt really know what he wants yk) and said that he has to have him. or....... something. anyways, reo needed someone to learn soccer with and he chose the most antisocial sleepy guy on campus. and then proceeded to be an absolute simp (theres a scene he literally massages his back.) he also has canonically called nagi "good boy" (nagi said "yes boss" to him as well) context for the specfic betrayal was the game required them to be in teams of 3 and this is after reo and nagi's previous team of like 8-10 lost to isagi's team. reo and nagi said that they were going to go to win the world cup together. thats always been their promise. (theyve known each other for half a year i think. which is a short amount of time to be so attached LMAO.)

they also have a second betrayal which is honestly worse than this one, and reo's team loses to isagi/nagi's team and nagi tells him he's done with reo.

its a common theme of nagi never picking reo btw. reo was upset after the game because after you win a mtach you pick someone from the losing team to advance with and NAGI DIDNT ADVOCATE FOR REO HARD ENOUGH I GUESS AND ISAGI TOLD THEM ALL THAT THE BEST CHOICE WAS CHIGIRI. so they had another homoerotic fight that im never getting over. hope this meets ur criteria. they're in their exes era. its slightly better tho because nagi does feel bad/sorry for what he said.

(Other anon, I'll include your essay if they make it into the next round)

Geto/Gojo

"He was my friend, my one and only" ultrapowerful, one tried for it one born with it bitches but the twist is one was so consumed by the twisted horrible nature of humanity he went all Magneto but a lot more murderous while the other one only stays nonmurderous because he believes in changing the system by training the next generation. You don't understand he spared him, you don't understand, Gojo's devastation of knowing that he didn't do anything to help him as he slowly literally ate and ate and ate hate and pain to protect people that didn't protect his own. The devastation of knowing that there was nothing else to say nothing to do no way to help him bring him back he'd changed into someone he understood but simply couldn't support. Geto's betrayal, leaving everything and everyone behind because their way not only wasn't working but it was protecting those who wouldn't protect them. Geto laughed for the first time in ten years after all this when Gojo said something to him , the moment before he (Gojo) killed him, carried his body, refused to have it burned. Geto gets basically possessed and when Gojo sees not!him for the first time he freezes and gets captured, Geto almost breaks the possession momentarily whe he hears his name , he doesn't, Gojo gets captured, Geto is stuck, cursed , dead.

#nagireo #SatoSugu #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #geto suguru #gojo satoru #bllk #jjk #polls

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mauesartetc · 11 months

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Thoughts on Helluva Boss Episode 204 ("Western Energy")

Well that was a whole lotta nothin', wasn't it.

Let's discuss.

Pros:

-Edward Bosco does a fine job with Striker's voice, and Bryce Pinkham has a couple surprisingly powerful line deliveries when Stolas has reached his lowest point. It's nice when the story gives this character some emotional range outside of horny and mopey.

-This character design is way too cool for this show, like damn.

-Striker's living space was unique and interesting, and the magma in the environment matched his horse well.

-The fight scene with Moxxie and Millie vs Striker was well-choreographed and the camera didn't move around too much. Looks like the animators learned their lesson from last time.

-I liked how Moxxie took a chance and used Striker's homophobia (or perhaps disgust toward "lesser" imps?) against him to escape his grip.

-The devil horns on the EKG screen were kinda cute.

Cons:

-What the hell's up with this title. "Western Energy"? Is that a reference to something? Is it a pun? I get the "western" part, but "energy"? It puts me in mind of some obscure Zen concept rather than this episode. Just vague, confusing and not clever. Hell, "Take The Shot" was right there! I know there's not much shooting in Striker's plotline (we'll get to that bit of stupid momentarily), but this references both the A- and B-plot! C'mon, writers. At least act like you care.

-Again with the arbitrary censorship... I think multiple characters utter the word "cunt" in this episode, but it's bleeped each time. Guys... This is an internet show. This isn't network TV. If you're worried about getting demonetized on Youtube, don't use that word in the script to begin with. Easy.

-Not many laughs in this one, huh. In the last couple episodes I've found at least one thing to chuckle about or say, "Hm, that's kinda clever, I guess", but man, I was stone-faced for the duration here.

-Is that really how you pronounce "Andrealphus"? I've been saying it "An-dray-AL-phus", but Stolas says "An-DREE-ul-phus". People who are more familiar with demonology than I am, feel free to weigh in.

-Speaking of which, it's quite an accomplishment to make Andrealphus look even worse than he did in his illustration. Something about how tiny his head is in proportion to his body throws me, and of course it doesn't help that his face was always pinched in a teardrop shape with a tiny beak (which looks nothing like a peacock, because fuck accuracy). And if anyone's wondering if he uses any ice powers this episode... He doesn't. He uses telekinesis to drop a couple lumps of sugar into his tea, but that's it. You rip off Elsa and set the guy up in an ice castle but couldn't even give him ice powers? What a load.

-Kinda floored at this line from Stolas: "Cheating implies a betrayal. This woman never gave two shits about me, or our very much arranged marriage."

For fuck's sake, writers.

"You guuuuyyyys, it technically wasn't even cheating, see? Stolas is totally innocent and pure and you should like him!!!" The camera even trucks out dramatically as if he's saying something heroic. Christ...

Even in an utterly loveless marriage, there's still the expectation that each party will be faithful to the other, and having sex with someone else is a betrayal unless both of them previously agreed to open up their relationship. No indication that ever happened here, so...

All this scene demonstrates is that Stolas hasn't learned a thing about being a fucking adult and owning up to his mistakes. This just doubles down on the whole "I'd feel bad if I hurt you" thing (when you obviously did hurt her, you twit). Does Viv Medrano seriously believe admitting fault and apologizing makes a person weak or unlikable? Because I have news for ya: It's very much the opposite.

-Also, Stolas ends that mini-speech with, "As far as I'm concerned, this divorce is far overdue." But... Stella and Andrealphus have already agreed to that. That wasn't even a question. They're just trying to settle what Stella will get in the divorce. Do these people even read their scripts out loud?

-Striker's return comes way too late in the series. There are too many episodes forming a cushion between his introduction and Western Energy for him to feel intimidating. It's possible IMP could've discussed a plan of action regarding Striker, but no one mentions him once. If the characters don't see him as a threat, why should the audience?

The tension would have remained high if, immediately after the harvest moon episode, IMP moved Stolas and his family to a safe house while Striker was still on the loose. Little does Stolas know, however, he's a sitting duck, since Stella has called Striker and informed him of their location. Feels like that'd be much more exciting than just ignoring his existence for five episodes.

-When Stolas calls Blitzo, he refers to Striker as "that little cowboy friend of yours", implying he remembers him from the Harvest Moon Games. But, um... Question. Did Blitzo ever tell Stolas Striker almost killed him?! We have no idea! It's never confirmed!

At the end of the harvest moon episode, I seriously thought the team just forgot to write Blitzo warning Stolas about his would-be assassin. I know the story's trying to get across how little Blitzo actually cares about him, but this is a pretty huge conversation to overlook. Like damn, just how thoughtless can one person be. Our hero, ladies and gentlemen!

-(Also, who the hell says they were "stolen", Stolas. You're not an object; you're a person. You were kidnapped. I know this is bordering on grammar pedantry but it's distracting how much this weird phrasing sticks out.)

-Once again, the symbolic sin colors are inconsistent. I mentioned in the last review that the Greed ring in Helluva Boss is green despite the fact that the traditional color for greed as a sin is yellow. In this episode, we glimpse the Sloth ring, as this official tweet informs us:

One problem: Sloth is pink instead of the traditional light blue.

I wouldn't mind this if the ring colors broke from tradition across the board, but they don't. The Wrath ring is red and Lust is deep blue, as is customary. So it seems the art direction is throwing darts at a board to see which rings get the "lol, random" color treatment and which ones don't. These odd choices would be much more understandable if there were a story reason for certain rings looking the way they do, but at this point, I think we know better than to hope for that.

-In both this episode and The Harvest Moon Festival, Striker is characterized as self-aggrandizing. His previous appearance saw him declare himself superior to other imps, while this one shows off his giant statue with an enormous boner. Why, then, is he annoyed at the little imps singing his theme song? Wouldn't that be an ego boost? It would've made more sense for him to play along with it, or even better:

STOLAS: How does one get their own theme song?

STRIKER: (smiles, rubs his thumb and fingertips together) You pay for it.

-All the scenes with Blitzo and Loona in the doctor's office could've been cut and the story wouldn't have lost a thing. You can show them arriving and show them leaving with Loona wearing the cone, but everything else in the B-plot is filler. These episodes aren't beholden to a TV schedule that demands the duration falls within a certain range. There's no reason this episode needed to be nineteen minutes long.

-Getting pissy at some rando wearing the same hat as you is just about the dumbest reason to start a fight I've ever heard. Let's change around the dialogue a bit:

BIKER: Lookee here, fellas! The city slicker got himself a cowboy hat! That is sooo cute. Well, if you wanna dress the part... (cracks knuckles) might as well play it. It's not perfect but holy shit, I came up with that in two minutes. What the fuck, Viv. This is why you have co-writers. They aren't there to kiss your ass and mindlessly accept everything you do; they're there to catch little things like this and make them better.

-There's no "thump" when the top of the exploded gas station hits the ground, and judging by its size and implied weight, there should definitely be a sonorous thump.

-Striker mentions that Stella paid him to give Stolas "the royal treatment" (aka a slow death), but if that's the case, why did he try to shoot him at the Harvest Moon festival? Why did he shoot at him in the cafe?? If one of those bullets hit, wouldn't that affect his payday? Also, can't help but notice how terribly convenient this is. We wouldn't want our expert assassin to be too efficient, or precious Stolas would be dead. God damn this is contrived.

-Here's a line with a ton of story potential that goes unexplored (and will probably remain as such for the rest of the season, let's be honest): Stolas points out that Striker "is working for a royal right now", exposing some hypocrisy in his hatred for them. This brings up an interesting question: Why is he in cahoots with this one specific royal despite detesting all others? Why is she the exception? Could it be his loyalty to her transcends a simple business relationship? If he has angelic weapons and wanted to kill just any royal, he could have done it. But maybe this is more personal. Maybe Stolas needs to die because he hurt Stella.

Perhaps on the other side, Stella shares Striker's belief that he's superior to ordinary imps- another exception. Giving any other imp the time of day would disgust her, but Striker's just different somehow. And being as athletic and rugged as he is, he's a far cry from Stolas, who she's never found attractive.

I know it's a pipe dream for this series to develop any romantic pairing besides Stolitz, but how interesting would it be if Striker and Stella were having an affair of their own, and genuinely loved each other? How would they reconcile their personal feelings with long-held prejudices? What kinds of effects would hiding this shameful secret have on them? Would they make strides to be more open-minded? Would they see how their relationship mirrors Stolas and Blitzo's and reach an understanding with them? Will Striker's anti-royal principles override his love for Stella? Will he, in possession of angelic weapons, fulfill his quest to kill all royals, including her? There are so many possibilities here.

But of course, wringing any kind of compelling narrative out of this show's villains would require the writers to treat them as complex people rather than caricatures, so... yeah.

-If Stolas' legs are untied, what the fuck is stopping him from getting up and sneaking out of the cave after Striker leaves him unattended? He even has enough range of motion to kick him in the face. Obviously his leg wound would cause mobility issues and he'd have to stop the bleeding so Striker wouldn't track him easily (perhaps rolling into a magma stream to cauterize the wound? If demons are immune to fire, as Episode 1 established, I don't think magma would hurt much), but goddamn, try something. If you're going to die either way, you don't have much to lose, do you?

OR, why doesn't he just roll off the back of the horse when they're still in the city? Just check behind you to make sure no cars are coming and bail, dude. Striker might not even realize you're gone until he's entered the desert.

This is the exact same problem Stolas had in Seeing Stars, where he was so helpless against the plot's demands he couldn't even climb out of a van window, or morph into his full demon form like he did in Truth Seekers, or just leave the studio to find his fucking daughter. Y'know how I keep saying these characters have no agency? These characters have no damn agency.

-Kinda weirded out by how flirty Andrealphus is with his sister. "You're so lucky you're attractive"? "My fiery vixen"? Just... why. I get that incest used to be a thing in real-life monarchies, but assuming Andrealphus has other romantic options readily available to him (see also: ambiguous bird class), this fixation on Stella doesn't make much sense. If Viv wanted to make him subtly creepy, well... there are other ways to do that.

And let's be real, we can safely surmise Viv hates research with a passion, so I'm betting she didn't get this idea from history, but from Game of Thrones. I get a strong feeling she sees real-world facts as boring homework and the fictional world as exciting and full of wonder. If a person just cherry-picks different elements from fictional media they like and stitches them together like Dr. Frankenstein grafts body parts, that'll result in something great too, right? ...No.

-You're seriously telling me Stella didn't know how royal lineages work after being betrothed to a prince since childhood?

I mean wow, the show has portrayed Stella as inconsiderate and comically sadistic, and now she's stupid as well? These writers are hell-bent on giving her zero positive traits, aren't they.

-"A Goetia's never behaved like this before." Are you shitting me, Andrealphus? Hell's existed for (presumably) thousands of years and not a single noble has fucked an imp before? I could maybe buy that none of them have been as stupidly blatant as Stolas has, so perhaps these affairs have gone unseen and unremembered. But assuming they never happened? Come on now.

-Where'd Striker's horse go?? Feels like he could've been helpful in the fight against Moxxie and Millie, but after the theme song, he's completely missing. We don't even see him in a stable or anything. I know he's animation-intensive but y'all could at least give us a narrative reason he's not on screen.

An easy fix to this would be to show Bombproof (yes, that's his name, and it's awesome, and I hate that the characters never say it) out of breath at the end of the long journey, and Striker telling him he's earned a good rest. He could then hop into a magma pool and disappear under the waves for the remainder of the episode. There ya go. Simple.

-If Millie's ordinary axe can chop Striker's angelic pistols in half, why are angelic weapons such a threat to demons? During the yearly extermination in this universe, what's stopping them from forming an army and shooting the angels' weapons full of holes? Crazy how a single scene can unravel Hazbin Hotel's entire conflict.

-Did y'all want any kind of satisfying closure between Blitzo and Stolas regarding what went down in the Ozzie's episode? Well keep dreamin', because we've got this horrendously half-assed, tacked-on bullshit that you'll easily miss if you blink.

Fuck you, show.

And in another text following this, here's what Stolas says:

"If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without [the grimoire] for one month."

Why do you need the fucking book at all, Stolas.

He's used it to make the harvest moon visible at the festival, but it's never clear what purpose that serves. We've never seen him use it for anything in his daily life; just that thing that happens once a year. Come to think of it, we've never seen Stolas in his day-to-day job. As a Goetia demon, he has legions to command (Andrealphus even mentions them), but the story never shows us the political, leadership-driven side of his life. He just sits around doing sweet fuck-all. Striker's argument against monarchs is that they "talk over [the lower classes]", but there's a strong case to be made for them simply contributing nothing of substance to society.

All in all, this episode made me feel nothing. There was no meaningful progression in the story. Sure, Stolas is injured, but he has the exact same problems of being married to someone he wants to divorce and Blitzo being emotionally distant. Stella has the same problem of Stolas being alive, even though she herself called off his execution. Striker's still at large. Moxxie and Millie still have a squeaky-clean relationship, Blitzo's still an ass, and Loona will likely return to her regular self in the next episode. Functionally speaking, everyone ends the episode in the same place they began, making me wonder what the point of it is in the larger narrative. Getting a hunch that Viv just needed an excuse to hospitalize Stolas so the audience would pity him.

I'm calling it now: Stolas is out of the hospital in the next one. He might still have some bandages and whatnot, but his injuries won't present any real obstacles to him until they're convenient to the plot. I'm betting there won't even be scars where Striker stabbed him, because at this point, continuity is WAY too much to ask of this show.

If this were a better-written series, Stolas would actually use his damn wealth and political power to put a bounty on Striker's head that'd have everyone in Hell gunning for him. Or why not use those legions he has at his disposal? Furthermore, now that he knows Stella hired Striker, what's stopping him from having her executed, or banished, or imprisoned, or something? But then if the characters used their brains, Viv wouldn't get the plot she wants, and we can't have that.

The previous episode had me curious to find out what would happen next. This one just added nothing to my life. I don't know how much longer I can keep watching this show. I'm not a fan of hate-watching media as life is short and there are numerous shows and films out there that'll make much more enjoyable use of my time. "If it sucks, hit da bricks" and all that. Yet Helluva Boss still has a pull in being an incredible teaching tool for how NOT to write a series. Writing these reviews has been thoroughly educational for me, and it seems they've helped others as well. But fuck, man. At what cost. When will I finally throw up my hands and say "Enough"?

If I hear the next one's not terrible, I might give it a watch. But that's a pretty big if. I'm very tired.

#helluva boss #helluva critical #critique #criticism #long post #writing #review

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