The song used in this fic, Hellfire, has been modified to better reflect troll/Homestuck terminology/names

The first time he had caught himself looking at her for a moment too long had been when they first met in the game. He had told himself then that he had stared only because her outfit was so outrageous that it would have been laughable if it hadn't been so disgusting. The way the teal body suit clung to her every curve, showing it off without showing skin. The way it highlighted the teal of her eyes. The way her symbol was colored cherry red and stretched over her breast as if just inviting him, and only him, to touch and caress. It was disgusting, she was disgusting and no amount of her sneaky, conniving ways would make him throw aside his vows.

Porrim Maryam

You know I am a righteous troll

Of my virtue I am justly proud

Porrim Maryam

You know I'm so much purer than
The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

Or, so he had thought. But that had been sweeps ago. It had been before they had all died, before they had nothing and no one more than themselves. And that woman was a sneaky thing, pretending to defend the minds of others while it was her mind that she locked away behind a 'Rad Mask.' Her defense of their minds was a sham too. She didn't protect their thoughts, she destroyed them. Subtly, sneakily, she invaded his pure thoughts and added her own, twisted and disgusting ones.

As diabolical as Latula's methods were, he should have been stronger than them. He should have been troll enough to resist, to not stare, to not dream only to wake up from a dream as a wet and sticky mess, and ESPECIALLY to not have to lock himself in his room, turning his hand to the wet and sticky mess he so hated waking up to.

Then tell me, Maryam

Why I see her dancing there

Why her smold'ring teal eyes still scorch my soul

I feel her, I see her

The sun caught in raven hair

Is blazing in me out of all control

He hated himself for what he had become, for what she had turned him into. He hated the looks that she gave him, inscrutable behind those glasses of hers. He hated how she flipped her hair at him when she walked away in a huff and how every little movement and breath she made stabbed at his heart with a staff of teal flame

Like fire

Hellfire

This fire in my skin

This burning Desire

Is turning me to sin

It's not my fault

He hated it, but he loved it as well. Her burns to his heart were as painful as they were sweet. The way she twisted his mind and introduced disgusting thoughts a welcome relief to the purity and righteousness he had to maintain for the sake of his beliefs. Sure such thoughts were a sin, but they were HER thoughts, HER sin and he wouldn't burn for them, she would.

I'm not to blame

It is the skater girl

The knight who sent this teal flame

Of course, in his heart of hearts, he knew he was lying to himself. He knew he was weak and disgusting, otherwise he'd have never fallen under her spell. He'd have never stared at her, wondering what her breast, her hips and thighs would feel like under his touch. He would have never needed to halfway break his vows with his hand or the various toys he stole from Cronus. He'd never have to pretend Cronus didn't know his special toys were being stolen, used and abused only to be returned in pristine condition, not a drop of red to be found.

It's not my fault

If in Sgrub's plan

It made the Terrors so much stronger than a troll

The answer to his weakness for Latula had almost come too late. At the time, he had been in Cronus's lair, staring down at the seadweller who was on his knees, inches away from helping him break his vow at least three quarters of the way.

The moment the idea came to him, he left the hive and Cronus, and set out to find Porrim, only pausing long enough to hike his pants back up to his chest. That was where they belonged and where they would stay. Forever.

And let her taste the fires of hell

Or else let her be mine and mine alone Protect me, Maryam

Don't let this knight cast her spell

Don't let her teal fire sear my flesh and bone

Destroy Latula

He hadn't known what Porrim's reaction to his request would be. Part of him expected her to obey it, a larger part of him expected she would fuss and worry, another part expected her to shout, scream and debate and other parts had thought other things. However, what he hadn't expected was for Porrim to go behind his back and call on Kurloz, Latula's matesprit's moirail.

Of course, the moment the tall and lanky troll cornered him in some dark hallway of the dream bubble, he had known exactly what happened, and he wasn't happy about it. However, he wouldn't run away. Weak as Latula had made him, he was still strong enough to face the silent troll before him.

~Vantas, she is in a fucking matespritship with Mituna~

Kankri knew very well that Latula's red quadrant was filled. After all, she flaunted and bragged about it enough. The others might have thought it was harmless, but he knew better. He knew she flaunted and bragged because she wasn't happy with Mituna. Maybe at some point in the past, but now her heart yearned for him and only him. She just had to admit it.

"What, still?" he asked, the almost sarcastic edge to his voice plain as day.

~Yes, of fucking course she is. That is some motherfucking beautiful matespritship they have all down Vantas.~

It took almost all of his will not to call Kurloz out for his triggering language. If this were any other time, any other place, any other troll, then he wouldn't have hesitated to teach the silent troll just how triggering his sign language was. Now though, calling him out for his sign language would have been exactly what Kurloz wanted, after all, what better way to distract the 'Insufferable' than to trick him into lecturing. Kankri wouldn't fall for it though, not this time.

"But how? Why? Captor is a fool, a broken, mindless fool." No, he would not be distracted by thoughts of his allies any more than he would be distracted by Makara's triggering words.

"Never mind. Get out, you clown."

That was all the reason Kurloz needed to leave, after all, the two of them had never gotten along, their views were too wildly different for either of them to be at peace with one another.

At least the meeting had been good for one thing, it taught him that if he wanted to take care of Latula, he'd have to do it himself.

"I'll find her. I'll find her if I have to burn down all of reality"

Burning as he had never before, Kankri set out to find Latula.

Hellfire Teal fire

Now skater, it's your turn

Choose me or

Your pyre

Be mine or you will burn

The dream bubble he found her in was one of a skatepark. Ramps, bowls, rails and other equipment for stunts and tricks could be found wherever the eye could see, including drifting in the sky. It was a weird place, but Latula was alone and that was all that was important now.

Skaia have mercy on her

Absorbed in fixing a wheel on her skateboard, she didn't see him coming until it was too late.

Skaia have mercy on me

His sickle cut through her neck like a knife through butter, pumping teal blood everywhere before body and head thumped to the ground; her head rolling toward and then down the sides of a skating bowl before coming to a stop.

The Knight was dead now, her dangerous mind no longer a threat to his purity, but there was one more thing he had to do. One more thing to make sure he would never again be tempted by her wicked powers, because it just wasn't fair that he had to fall more than once.

But she will be mine

The fire he set to the dream bubble burnt on long after Kankri fell to the smoke and flame he had set upon himself and Latula. Even so, he still managed to die with her held tightly in one arm, while he used the other to support her decapitated head for his first, and last, kiss.

and we will burn!