#karkats hair is still such a trip to draw i have to stare at a png of him to do it

[pillotalkin]

I'm a few hours late, but happy 4/13 everybody...! Have a Davekat smooch

#davekat #homestuck #karkat vantas #dave strider #kissies for karkat yayyyy #karkats hair is still such a trip to draw i have to stare at a png of him to do it #but i persevere. in the name of love.

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 1

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

<>

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.

#hiveswap #homestuck #riverbound #c1 #MSPA reader #The Guardian #Vriska Serket #Hiveswap Friendsim trolls #pesterquest

[corvid-knight]

Demon Eyes - chapter 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/31621569

There is a binding circle around the building; you have no fucking clue how you missed it. Yeah, it's just chalk lines on the ground; what looks like a straight line because of how large the circle itself is, and smaller symbols just outside the main circle, but still.

You've been raised to see this shit.

Bro would kick my ass for not noticing that, you think. Weirdly, you have to swallow back a sob at that—he sure can't kick your ass now, can he?

"Goddamnit," you mutter, pulling away from Karkat's support and stepping over the chalk line as he stands and watches you. You do feel the barrier, like a ringing in your ears as you cross it, enough to make you shake your head, but it doesn't stop you like it would a demon.

He watches you as you lean down to rub at one of the symbols. "So you feel the circle?"

"If I'm paying attention, yeah." God, why the fuck can't you get this damn thing to blur into illegibility? It's fucking chalk, come on. "Useless lil' talent—"

"Hey, if you can feel it you can use it."

"Dude, I can't even draw up a fucking binding circle to save my life." Which is definitely true—you have a set of scars across your back from the last time you fucked one up. You sigh, thinking about that, then wince as that starts blood dripping from your nose again.

A couple drops end up on the symbol you're trying to get rid of, though, which definitely helps. You rub at the design until it's just a blur of blood and chalk, then straighten up and nod at Karkat.

Well. You try to, anyway. What really happens is that you stand up, your head spins like someone just punched you again, and you grab for support that isn't there to keep yourself from falling.

Shit shit shit you fucking dumbass—

And Karkat grabs your arm, steadying you. "Quit calling yourself a dumbass." He's still in your head, then. Damn. Is that a bad thing? You want to think it's a bad thing. Bro would definitely think it's a bad thing.

Bro's dead. And you're dizzy and in pain and staring into the eyes of the demon who killed him, thinking thoughts that aren't fucking appropriate to any hunter. I'm fucking horrible.

"No you're not. But you might be in shock." Karkat blinks, leaning down and somehow scooping you up in his arms. "Fuck, you don't weigh anything, do you?"

"Shut up." You feel like you should be uncomfortable with this. Or at least pretend to be. Instead, you let your head fall onto his shoulder and close your eyes. "Fuck you."

"Still not a succubus, dumbass." There's a note of amusement in his voice, but it's replaced by something else for his next sentence. Concern, maybe? No, that can't possibly be right. "Don't you pass out on me and make me clean you up out in the open."

"You don't gotta clean me up..." Your mumbled words sound weird to your own ears. Shit, you're so fucked up right now.

"Shush. Most of this mess is my doing; I might as well put that blood back in your poor fucking hide." He huffs and shifts one hand to brush against bare skin where he ripped your shirt open, dragging an unwilling whine out of you. "...I'm sorry I went as hard as I did on you, though."

"I've. I've had worse." Which is true. You're still conscious and capable of speech—hell, you've had training sessions worse than this. Bro can be one hell of a demanding teacher.

Or at least he could be, you correct yourself, with a strong flash of guilt.

"Don't you fucking dare."

"What?"

"That guilt trip shit? You're not allowed to do that. Not for that bastard." He growls and shudders at the same time, and you feel both the sound and the motion through your contact with him. "Somebody should've killed him years ago. Why the fuck didn't one of you hunters put him down like the fucking rabid dog he was? I know some of you had to see that shit, don't fucking tell me he only let the crazy out in places where he could kill all the witnesses."

You're kind of lost in that string of words, too caught up in the sound of his voice to absorb the meaning. When Karkat stops talking it takes you a minute to actually parse what he just said, realize that he might want a response.

Not that you have a decent one of those.

"He's good at his job, man," you offer eventually, thinking about opening your eyes and deciding against it. Your head hurts too much. "Killed the shit people wanted killed, didn't raise too much hell otherwise. Not where anybody would notice."

You immediately regret that last sentence as the demon lets out a low, ferally angry growl. "Not where anybody would notice," he repeats, and growls again. "And none of those assholes noticed you?"

Fuck. The spike of fear lancing up through your gut is instinctive; your breath catches in your chest as you try to deal with it. "Not supposed to." He told me what'd happen to me if he got taken in for the shit he did to me. Jail for him, maybe, maybe not, but they'd take me, I'd land in a fucking foster home, and that kind of people don't let you keep weapons. They'd never believe that the reason I know what I know is because my whole fucking family attracts demons and creatures like honey draws flies. They'd smile and nod and send me to therapists, and I'd be dead inside a month.

He told me.

"I wish I'd killed the motherfucker slower," Karkat growls, and sets you down on something halfway soft.

You know he didn't actually walk far enough, didn't open any doors, but when you open your eyes you're on the bed in the sleazy hotel room Bro rented for the week you and him were supposed to be here.

As he goes over to slide the security chain into the slot, you push yourself up to sit like a fucking normal person. That hurts, too, pulses of pain running through your head until you have to squeeze your eyes shut against the way the lights in the room seem to go brighter with the express purpose of burning your eyes.

"Stay still," the demon says, and you feel his weight settle on the mattress next to you. A moment later his hands are on your face, holding your head steady. "Open your eyes."

You almost say fuck you again, out of pure reflex. He doesn't deserve that, though, and instead you say, "That's gonna hurt," and hate the tremor in your voice. Oh, you weak lil' bitch. The mental voice isn't yours, but it's pretty fucking familiar anyway.

"I know it's going to hurt." If Karkat knows what you're thinking right now, he doesn't let on; just shifts his hands a little, brushes hair back from your face with a motion that's as calm and soothing as his voice. "For a minute, anyway. Maybe a little longer, but hey, it's better than letting that shit work itself out, I swear."

"I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about," you point out. But you crack your eyes open the smallest bit anyway, manage not to flinch away from the light, and slowly open them the rest of the way, focusing on his eyes the best you can.

Which, honestly, isn't all that well. You're not seeing double, but everything's bright and fuzzy, more like an overexposed snapshot than what the world's supposed to be.

Karkat's frowning at you. Damn.

"You're a mess, Dave."

"And you're a fucking demon; you got a point?"

"You're lucky I am a demon." He huffs, nails digging into your scalp just a little as he tightens his grip on you. Weirdly, that doesn't really hurt, even though every other stimulus is equal to more pain right now; it's just a sensation that you notice and catalogue and just kind of accept. "Your head's all fucked up—how many concussions have you even had?"

Something about that half-rhetorical question starts you laughing. And fuck does that hurt. You still can't stop, though.

Karkat sighs and leans in to let his forehead rest against yours, and wow, you're...really not sure how comfortable you are with this. Yeah, for some fucking reason you trust him, yeah he helped you when he had no reason to not just kill you, but having somebody this close to you is tripping every danger-switch your brother's taken such pains to make sure you have. You don't just stop laughing, you stop breathing for a second, trying to figure out how to make your arms work, how to push him away, get him off before somebody sees—

Red lightning lances through your head. That's not even a figure of speech—it feels like laying your hands on live current. Your vision goes bright bloody red, the space behind your eyes first tingles and then seems to just catch fire, flaring white-hot—

I'm going to fucking die, you think, again.

Then your body actually follows through on the movement it began when the weird organic lightning struck you, jerking away from the demon. As soon as your contact with him is gone, so is eighty percent of the pain, leaving you shaking and dizzy as you try to curl up against the headboard.

For the first time you realize that you're on the wrong bed, because there's a gun under the pillow that you sure as hell didn't put there. You jerk away from that,too, disjointed thoughts of what's going to happen if your brother finds you on his bed running through your mind. It's an invitation, it's me asking for what happens to me, it's—

Karkat grabs you before you can go off the edge of the bed, thankfully. There's no way you wouldn't just hit the floor and hurt yourself worse.

"Dave, holy shit—stop, okay? Stop, that part's over, I swear—" He stops talking for a second when you try to punch him, catching your wrist and flipping you around so your back's pressed against his chest, pinning your arms against your own chest and holding on as you struggle against him. "Hey. Hey, listen to me. Look. It's okay, I'm sorry, I should've told you that was going to happen, I know it had to hurt but you were hurt, okay? Your blood doesn't listen well, it was harder than I thought it'd be to sort out your head. Calm the fuck down, I'm not going to really hurt you—"

"Lemme go." You've managed to stop trying to get free of him, about halfway through his not-so-smooth string of words, but you're still panicky as fuck. "Fucking let me go, I need—let me—"

The constriction of his arms is gone before you can tell him a third time. As soon as he lets go, you scramble away, stumble as soon as your feet hit the floor—fuck—and pull yourself up using the wall. You have to wince as every touch leaves bloody fingerprints on the ugly wallpaper.

You only have your back to him for maybe a second, but when you manage to turn around and put the wall at your back where it belongs, Karkat's on his feet as well, hands up in an unspoken promise of nonviolence. Great, now he looks scared. You're scaring a demon; who would've thought?

"Dave."

"Yeah." Stop. Stop. He's trying to help me. If he kills me it's my own damn fault, but he probably won't. Come on, asshole...

"I'm not going to kill you, Dave, I fucking told you that."

The irritation that he only kind of tries to cover up gives you something to ground yourself on. It helps. Still, "Why the hell do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Reading my mind."

That gets you a huffy growl and an eye-roll from him. "I don't read your fucking mind!"

"You answer the shit I don't say, asshole—what the hell would you call it?"

"I'll tell you if you come over, sit your ass down, and let me finish cleaning you up." He scowls at you for just a second, then shakes his head, holding out his hand. "Deal?"

Don't you fucking do it, lil' man. At the ghost-memory of that fucking voice, you wince and Karkat growls softly.

"Oh, fuck you," you mutter, and grab his hand, using it for leverage to pull yourself away from the support of the wall. Thankfully, he immediately steps in when you stagger, pulling your arm over his shoulder and letting you use him to define which way is up and which is down—somethng that you don't seem able to do for yourself right now, even if your vision's clear again. "Man, if this weird shit's permanent, you might as well kill me now."

"The vertigo shouldn't last more than a couple hours." You can feel his shrug. "Once you sleep, it'll be gone, I promise."

"Yeah, sure." You jerk your head at the other bed, your bed, and instantly regret it as the whole fucking room spins lazily in response. "Ow. Over there, 'less you want me to lose my shit again at some point."

He glances at your face, and you can feel him trying to decide if he can ask.

Please just let it go for now, okay? This time you make a deliberate effort to have him hear the thought. Not like you'd want to know, anyway, come on, just chalk it down to me being a fucking idiot.

Does he hear? You have no idea. But he guides you over to the right bed, pushes you down gently and sits down beside you before he says anything else. "You know, you really can't read minds if you think I don't want to know about your shit."

"Hey, I never said I could read your mind. I already told you I can't play with magic." When he starts pulling at what's left of your shirt—which isn't all that much; he pretty much ripped the front of it into nonexistence back there—you tense up. That's all you do, though; score a point for self-control. "That shit's for demons and witches, not something like me."

"Don't you mean someone like you?"

Shit. "Yeah. Fucking whoops—" Karkat trails his fingertips across the bloody mess that is your chest, and you lose the rest of whatever you planned to say in a gasp and a full-body shudder.

That hurts. That really fucking hurts. You can handle pain, though, you've been trained to deal with that shit, that's okay, that's fucking fine. What you can't handle is the feeling under the pain, something that's as much in your head as under your skin—not quite pleasure, but a promise of pleasure, an expectation that you haven't fucking earned and you're not sure you want.

The only thing you can really compare it to is a more painful version of the half-serious makeout session that was your first and pretty much only kiss. The memory of that makes you clench your hands into fists and hunch down into yourself.

Karkat notices. Of course he does. He takes his hand away, leaning back to just fucking look at you. "Damn."

"What." You want to snap back at the demon, but you can't find the energy to do it. Instead you start to cross your arms, remember that you're still covered with blood, and let them drop back to your sides, looking back at him and praying that you don't look as pathetic as you feel right now. "Don't give me one fucking word and let me try to work out what you mean, I swear to god."

"Damn, you're a mess."

"You said that already. Now who sounds like a broken record?"

That bit of snark earns you a surprisingly genuine, if brief, grin from him. (His teeth aren't sharp and jagged anymore, you notice, and promptly catalogue that fact under the "things that don't fucking matter right now" file.) "Hey, it needs saying."

"Fuck you." You can't put any bite in that phrase anymore. Weird.

He knows you don't mean it, too, because he gives you another flash of white teeth as he shifts a little closer. "Would it make it easier to deal with if I explain what I'm doing?"

"Who says I can't deal with whatever the hell you're doing?"

"The guy who cringes like somebody's going to take a swing at him, probably."

Damn. Is that really what I'm doing?

"Pretty much, yeah." Karkat shrugs.

"How the fuck are you doing that?"

"Look at me and I'll tell you."

Bad idea, you think. You do it anyway. In this lighting, the patterns of red-on-red in his eyes are somehow more visible, shifting oh-so-slowly into shapes that might have meaning.

Karkat blinks, and the patterns change completely. "You're the one who looked first," he says. "You made a fucking choice, okay? Or maybe you didn't make a choice, but I'm pretty sure you didn't want me to kill you, and that was enough to do it."

"Do what?" There's a whine in your voice that you can hear. You absolutely hate it.

"Make a connection."

"I didn't do that."

"Yeah, you did."

"You're the demon; you did it."

"Now why the fuck would I hook my mind into yours?" His eyes go darker red; you're pretty sure that's something to worry about. "You're a hunter—you probably want to wipe everything like me off the fucking face of the earth, get rid of all the demons so you can have the world to yourself, round up the halfbloods and keep them from fucking up your nice pure humans—"

You don't know you're going to shove him until he's on the floor. Looking down at him, you're dimly aware that you just made a pretty damn stupid move, but fuck it.

"Shut the fuck up." When was the last time you were this purely angry? You don't even know. Maybe when Bro made that last phone call, the one he ended by slamming the cellphone against the wall until his hand was bleeding and there was a noticeable chunk out of the drywall. "Unless you actually fucking looked at my mind, you don't get to say a damn thing about what kind of hunter I am—"

"Don't you listen to any-fucking-thing I'm saying here, fuckass?" The demon glares up at you, baring his teeth for a moment. (Yep, they're sharp again. That's threatening even when he's flat on his back on the floor.) "All I can hear from your mind is what you let me hear. I'm not the one running this shitshow."

"And you think I am?"

He nods. For some reason that just makes you angrier.

Purposefully trying to make him see what you remember is stupid as hell, but you grit your teeth and you stare into those fascinating eyes, and you do it anyway.

Memories are hard to sort out for you. Always have been. Instead of picking one, you think of a category of them that you usually push away: the ten, twenty, hundred times you picked up your brother's phone, opened his laptop, went through his shit just to find the emails and messages his contacts sent. Some of them, maybe most of them? They were pointless shit, offers of sex or questions about where he was planning to be, guys asking if he could pick them up a certain weapon or help out with getting rid of a body.

Of what was left, it'd always be fifty-fifty. Half warning of actual threats, things that'd killed and were probably/definitely going to kill again. Those you left.

The other half? The tipoffs for the shifters who chose to pass as human, the demons who used glamours so they'd be left alone, the halfbloods who didn't even know what they were, all those beings that weren't human and didn't fucking deserve to get hunted down for that fact?

You deleted every fucking one you could. Wiped the records of any leads for them, and hoped that your brother didn't catch you doing it.

Not that hoping was always enough.

"Fuck," the demon on the floor whispers.

"Yeah. Fuck." You shake your head and make an effort to push the memories away. Doesn't really work. "Don't fucking tell me what I am, asshole."

When he just keeps staring up at you, you close your eyes and flop back onto the bed. Why are you even still here? You're out of the circle, you can leave whenever you want.

"I'm not ready to leave yet." You refuse to open your eyes as Karkat settles next to you, but you're pretty sure if you did you'd see him leaning over you, those damn eyes fixed on your face. "Besides, you owe me."

Shit.

"Calm the fuck down, hunter." His hands start moving across your chest again, more slowly this time. The conflicting sensations are still there, but you're too fucking tired to care. "What do you think I'm going to make you do?"

"Dunno." A couple unpleasant possibilities come to mind, though, and you don't make any effort to hide those thoughts from him

Karkat hisses, and his hands pause for a moment. "Oh fuck no. That's sick, that's—who the fuck gets off on that kind of thing?"

"Demons."

"...okay, fair point. But not me." You can't see it and you can't feel it through his slight contact with you, but he shudders. You know he does. "Fuck. No. Right now the fact you owe me is an excuse for me to hang around with you; it's not like you can make me go away."

"Huh." That's probably something you should worry about. But... "Dude, I dunno what you're doing to me, but I'm so fucking close to just passing out..."

"Yeah, that's normal." Is he smiling? He sounds like he's smiling. "I'll still be here when you wake up, trust me."

"Yeah. I believe you."

Unfortunately.

Karkat's still laughing quietly about that when you stop being aware of him and everything else. The only thing you carry down into unconsciousness is the feel of his fingers dragging back and forth across your skin, and the knowledge that the pleasant half of that sensation is going to give you worse dreams than the painful half is.

#demon eyes

[thebarbarianbarber-blog]

@davekatweek​ Day 6: Fluff Day!

You and Dave are camping by the lake and you really want to see a meteor shower. But first you gotta wake Strider up.

(for anyone interested: the actual peak of Perseids’ shower is tomorrow - 8/12)

(also i apologize in advance for any linguistic mistakes in this, i’m not a native english speaker)

Make a wish

You crawled into the tent and immediately spotted his messy white hair which were sticking out of the sleeping bag along with his head.

- Dave! - you whispered while shaking his shoulder. - Dave, wake up!

- Sod off, Kankri… I’m done with your shit…

You rolled your eyes. Is your voice really that similar to your brother’s screeching?

- Come on, sleepyhead. Are you wearing your shades? Fucking hell.

- How many times... do i have to tell you… that quick talking… is not rapping... fuck, man, get a life...bla bla bla, i can’t hear you… - Dave muttered.

You gave up on whispering, found his ear and said his name out loud right into it, using all your power of will not to shout. Strider slowly turned around to face you, clearly not satisfied with this turn of events.

- It’s not morning yet. - he growled.

- No shit, Sherlock. Now move your ass, please, and come with me. - you said softly.

- Oh fuck no. I forgot it’s your stupid star party.

- If that’s what you want to call it, yes, it’s my stupid star party and you’re invited. Even though they’re fucking meteors.

- The stars are fucking meteors? - he asked with a snort.

- Well, yes- I mean- No. Goddamnit. That was so unfunny. The opposite of funny, even. - you decided, smirking. - Now get up. We’re going to watch the Perseids.

- Yeah, sure. - he yawned. - Why now?

- Now is the best moment. As you already know, tonight is the peak of the meteor shower which lasted for almost a month already. But the biggest number of them is expected to be seeable in the second half of the night and in the early morning. I certainly don’t want to miss it so I’ve decided now is the right time to wake you up. I want to witness it with you. - you said the last sentence a little more quietly than the rest.

- Wow, thanks. Now I have to get up or else I’ll be an asshole. - he complained.

- Too late. You’re already an asshole, asshole.

Despite the darkness, you noticed he was grinning while getting out of his sleeping bag. You grabbed some apple juice and started to look for orange soda (Dave had chosen the drinks, obviously).

- What? Have you already drunk all of it? - you asked with surprise, showing him three empty bottles, once filled with unhealthy beverage. He examined them and muttered:

- Fuck you too, Dirk.

You sighed and threw the garbage into the bin outside. You were running on apple juice from now.

Dave followed you to the lake. There you sat on a blanket Strider brought with him and enjoyed the landscape before your eyes. The sky above a city full of lights was an image you both learnt to treat as a constant and accept. The sky that night, however, was so much different. It seemed almost alien with its stars, those natural light bulbs, all shiny and majestic, forming constellations that showed themselves only to those far away from urban districts, that sparkling chaos against a background painted with indigo, sapphire and navy blue. Said picture was doubled, one might say, by a reflection in the lake, perfectly mirroring the original. It would be difficult to tell them apart if not for tiny waves ruffling the surface of the water. The forest surrounding the area was filled with a calming silence, though a lonely owl could be heard hooting now and then.

Your tent was the only one around and you haven’t seen anyone so far. This fact made you happy as you dedicated this trip to Dave, even though you were the one excited to see the meteor shower. Nonetheless, you had all this place and all this time for yourselves. You have been looking forward to it for so long.

- Well, how do you like it? - you asked your boyfriend quietly in order not to disturb the peace of the forest.

- It’s dark around here, not gonna lie. I almost feel like I’m one with nature. Like, you could see me on the street and be like “Why hello, nature. How have you been, bro?” And then you’d be like “Oh snap, it’s just you Dave! I thought you were nature.” And I’d say “Yeah, that’s ‘cos we are basically the same person.” That’s pretty much how tight I’m with nature right now. They seem cool.

- Okay, enough of this bullshit.

You took off his shades because, of fucking course, he had them on all this time.

- How about now? How would you describe your relationship with nature?

He looked around in amazement. You could swear his eyes were getting more and more beautiful with every time you saw them.

- It’s just so… - he started. - It’s wonderful.

You smiled.

- I told you it’s not the same in the city.

- And you were damn right.

He gave you a warm gaze and you suddenly felt so lucky.

- Thanks for showing me this place, Karkat.

Love for him that filled you seemed too big for your body.

- Oh, i forgot to tell you. Newsflash. - he paused, for dramatic effect as you suspected. - Rose called me when I was driving and you were sleeping like dead. That scared me a bit, too be honest. Don’t do that again, man.

- Alright, alright, what did Rose say? - you had a feeling it was important. He seemed concerned which was rare in his case.

He hesitated.

- Oh boy. Imma tell you. Flat-out. Straight to the point.

- God, just tell me already!

- Here I go. - he ran his hand through his hair. - Rose and Kanaya want to adopt a baby.

You gasped. Dave was looking a little nervous.

- That’s… Fucking awesome! - you said.

- They went to an orphanage and all that shit. Things are serious. I mean, it takes a hella lot of time to finally get this fucking child and it’s a huge deal apparently. But, yeah. We’re gonna be uncles, dude.

- We’re gonna be uncles. - you repeated.

- Yup. Guess who’s gonna be the cooler one.

- We’re gonna be uncles.

- That’s right. D-Strides over here.

- We’re gonna be fucking uncles, Dave! - you put your hands on his shoulders.- I have to call them.

- Are you nuts? What is it, 3 AM? Chill, you’ll talk about poop and diapers and the psychological drama you and my sister are crazy about but all of this tomorrow, m’kay?

- I guess you’re right.

You looked at the sky feeling a weird mix of excitement and fear. You definitely haven’t seen this coming. Even though you knew it was just the beginning of the adoption process, you still regarded the news as a huge change.

And then you saw it. It was a second, maybe less, but you saw it. A shooting star drawing a bright line on the sky’s canvas and then fading away. Without thinking, you made a wish out loud:

- I wish for a good child for Rose and Kanaya. I wish they wouldn’t wait long for that baby. I wish they would be the best mothers in the world. And I wish we would be the best uncles ever. I wish that kid would receive love and acceptance from everyone around them. I wish they would have a great childhood.

You stopped talking as you decided it was enough. You didn’t consider yourself superstitious but… Fuck, you just wanted them to be happy.

Strider was staring at you, half-smiling.

- That was cute.

You looked away.

- So… What about us? - he asked shamelessly.

Your cheeks were burning. Thank God it was dark.

- What do you mean? - you wondered, knowing exactly what he meant.

- Do you wanna raise a lil’ brat with me? Or a bunch of them. They’d be all over the place yelling and shitting themselves… But I could teach them how to drop it like it’s hot and you could feed them doritos or whatever a bambino eats. Would you like to get in this shithole with me? Like, in the future. Duh.

He was ridiculous.

- You are ridiculous. - you said, chuckling. - I’m pretty sure you are aware that babies don’t eat fucking doritos.

- You’re missing the point, bro.

You were, indeed, missing the point. That’s because you had no idea what to say. You imagined having a kid with Dave. He would be a good father. Full of energy, funny and more caring than he appeared to be. You, on the other hand… You could easily lose control. And you would never forgive yourself if you hurt a child. Your hypothetical child.

- I… I’m really not sure, Dave. - you answered quietly.

- That’s okay. We have tons of time, right?

- We have some, yes.

He was studying your facial expressions for a moment before he said:

- I know what you’re thinking. And I bet you would be the best fucking dad that could ever exist.

You widened your eyes in shock.

- And now you’re thinking something like “how the fuck did he know that?”.

You nodded.

- Surprise! I was a damn psychic this entire time!

- No, you weren’t, shithead. You just know me well, I guess.

- Yeah. And that’s why I know you would kick ass as a father. I mean, you would be so awesome. Not like literally kick ass, that would be terrible.

- I get it. Stop embarrASSing yourself.

He laughed, like a dumbASS he was.

- Just don’t sweat it, alright? - he said, smirking.

- I’ll try. - you promised with a sigh. - I’m gonna get some juice.

- I miss you already. - he whispered when you got up, making you smile.

You went to the tent, grabbed two bottles of the drink and came back. Dave was staring at the sky with his mouth open.

- You missed it! - he exclaimed, facing you. - You fucking missed a star, man!

- No, really? - you asked, disappointed, forgetting to remind him that it was a meteor.

- Hell yeah! It was so bright and bigger than the first one! It just… Pchooooo! Through the whole fucking sky like it was nothing! - he was gesticulating (aka throwing his arms in all directions) trying to show you the trajectory of the Perseid. -  And it was so fucking glorious! What the fuck? Why did you have to go bring this fucking juice?!

Before you could say anything, he pulled you by the arm, forcing you to sit down.

- From now on, no running away. You stay put and watch this motherfucking star bath with me.

- It’s a meteor shower, actually-

- Who the fuck cares what it’s called? It looks awesome. Why didn’t you tell me there was a fucking star wars battle scheduled for today?

- I told you a million fucking times: let’s go and watch it! It looks cool! You never fucking listened!

- Yeah, not enough fucking times, then. Also you sounded fucking boring, no offence.

You rubbed your temples.

- Now that you’ve seen a bit of it, i suppose you don’t find it boring anymore, do you, Dave? - you asked after calming your nerves a little.

- Of course not. Meteors fucking rule.

He wrapped his arm around you and suddenly all your negative emotions decided to go and fuck themselves. Everything seemed to be perfectly fine and it was because he loved you and you fucking loved him back.

- Well? - you asked softly.

- Huh?

- What did you wish for?

- Yeah, like I’m going to tell you.

- And why wouldn’t you? - you asked, raising your eyebrows.

- What if when I tell you it won’t come true?

- Hey! I said my wish out loud. - you reminded him.

He didn’t respond.

- Oh come on. I know you don’t believe in all that shit. Just tell me.

A sinister grin appeared on Strider’s face.

- Make me.

You decided you want to play his little game. You kissed his lips gently and then, without further ado, put your tongue into his mouth. He sighed. You placed your hands on his waist and looked into his incredible cherry-red eyes. He broke the kiss and hugged you before leaving busses on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your neck. You pushed him lightly so that both of you were lying down on your sides. He embraced you tightly and began caressing your back. You ran your hand through his shiny white hair.

You loved the touch of his body, the warmth it was giving to yours and the warmth you were feeling inside. Every time you were kissing, hugging, touching, it felt like it wasn’t enough. Before you met him, you thought that making out would bore you. Seriously, for how long could people do that? The same things over and over again, what’s the deal? Oh boy, were you wrong. You wanted this to last as long as it could and when you weren’t seeing each other for a long time - when you were both studying for finals, for example - you longed for him, for all the little talks you had, for his eyes, his whole body and for this unique feeling, uncomparable to anything you’ve ever felt before.

If you were to put it into words, you’d say you felt complete.

You almost forgot!

You sat up and gave him a significant look.

- Oh right, the wish. - he whispered, flushed and cute. - I’ll tell ya, promise, just let’s cuddle a lil’ more, ok?

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He was so convincing. You returned to your previous position, looking at his face with curiosity.

- Okay, so… I wished for a hella good future for us.

- Yeah?

You couldn’t help but smile and he scratched his head nervously,

- I just wanted us, this, to last as long as possible. - he went on. - And that it would be all cool between us. Just. Camping and drinking together and showing you my dope raps and hating on dumb movies and… The rest, you know.

He chuckled awkwardly. He was acting like such a dork while talking about your relationship and it was making your heart melt.

- When I saw this star… I mean meteor… I thought, hey, why not keep it like this. With you. You’re the shit, man. I mean. I like you. Really. - he hesitated for a second. - I love you.

Dave fucking Strider was lying next to you, his facial expression resembling the one of a naughty puppy that has just broken the most expensive vase in your house. Fucking Dave Strider who has just confessed his love for you. Dave Strider (fuck), the most charming, intelligent, handsome and sensitive human being you have ever met.

You would never pay him a compliment using all those superlatives at once, of course. His ego was big enough in your opinion.

And there he was. The love of your life and your best friend in one person.

- I love you too. - you said shakily after who knows how long.

He smiled and you would smile at that moment too if you weren���t already smiling this whole time.

- I wish it would stay that way, bro.

That was it. You just had to hug him with all your might. You laid your head on his shoulder and felt warm streams on your cheeks. Fuck. Why did you have to be like this? Crying like a baby while hugging your boyfriend. You couldn’t stop. Your tears were soaking in Dave’s T-shirt and all you could think about was the fact that they were tears of joy. You cried, filled not with sadness, but with joy for the first time in your life. For the first time you had a reason to cry that way.

After a few minutes you calmed yourself down, still embracing Dave. He said nothing, though kept on patting your head and back, kissing your neck and ear and hugging you as tightly as you were hugging him.

All of a sudden, he stiffened and then said:

- Yo, check this out!

You sat up and turned skywards.

They were everywhere. Tens of meteors falling down at once, right before your eyes. Flashing lines drawn from different angles, varying in sizes and brightness but all equally marvelous. You were afraid to blink in order not to miss any of them. The Perseids appeared for a second, maybe two and then faded into nothingness. It would be impossible to dedicate a wish to each and every one. You didn’t have the ability to count them, either. All you could do was watch this performance of light and darkness, dynamics and steadiness until it was over.

And when it finally was, you were staring at a sky that suddenly felt so empty.

Neither of you said anything for quite a long time as you were both amazed by what you saw. When you looked at Dave, you noticed his eyes, as well as his mouth, were opened wide. He faced you and blinked. You were no less thrilled than him.

- That was beautiful. - you mouthed.

- You are beautiful. - he responded, flirtatious bastard.

You snorted and kissed him on the cheek. He yawned. You patted your thighs and he laid his head on them. You played with his hair for a while and continued to observe the sky.

After that great number of meteors you saw, you were excited and not sleepy at all. You were hoping to see another one or two.

Eventually you saw a shooting star (at that moment you realised that this term was incorrect) and looked at Dave, wanting to tell him. However, you saw his eyes were closed and heard him breathing slower than usual. Goddamn sleepyhead.

You, just like Dave, wished it would stay that way.

You also came to a conclusion that watching him sleep is like watching a meteor shower for millions of hours. Or even more beautiful.

#davekat week #fanfiction #homestuck #mine

[thedoctor-and-his-trolls]

Calm Consumes Me

((  This has been a long time in the making as I’ve been busy caught up with shit SHIT man just shit. I’ve finally got part two, hopefully the rest comes as smoothly as this part has. Thanks to all of you who have been patiently waiting for this, and all you new comers, you’re in for a ride.

part one so you can click through and also find links to the original 3 stories!))

You don't even bother eating this morning. You just leave. You don't feel like dealing with slimy relationships. Hell you don't even know why you bothered with thoughts of John.

But this will be the first time you really spend time on the new world you and he created. You try to avoid it, especially during sun hours. Why shouldn't you enjoy this strange cross between human and troll? You worked hard for it. Harder than John or Rose or Dave. You died for it. And so did a lot of people you cared for. Including but certainly not limited to Nepeta. Equius and Aradia; Sollux. Sollux... How could you let them do that, how could you let Gamzee kill Nepeta..? Just like your stupid Ancestor couldn't stop his friends from being prosecuted, you couldn't either. You just barely skimmed out of there with your Mother- Kanaya.

"Why do I keep doing that," you grumble to yourself.

When you meet the door you're a bit nervous. You'd never really felt the sun before... Would it burn? You grab the handle, twist, and push the door outward.

What were you worried about again? Sun? Due to an unusually wet season, the sky is still looming with rain, only dark clouds the color of your skin are visible in the sky. No rays of heavy sun in sight. You step outside. It's cold and foggy, a somewhat unusual feeling.

Not that you hadn't felt it before, but that was on Alternia where trolls didn't go out in the daylight. With your old unadjusted bodies. The feeling of being out midday in this rainy weather was... Lonely. At night it was socializing time, time to go out and preach!

Well, if that is something you personally would have done (it's not.) (you'd rather die than be like Kankri, with all his goddamn trigger warnings.)

But the Sufferer... He was different. He's someone you feel compelled to look up to, rather than Kankri who you're somewhat ashamed of.

You wander through the spacious yard you and your compatriots have the pleasure of building a hive on. It's more like woods than anything but at least there's a path. And you're following it. Until then you'll be alone with your thoughts of the Sufferer and the Disciple and the Dolorosa-

"Karkles where you goin? Can I come?!"

"John?!" His name is almost disgust in your mouth. Mainly because you are finding his existence at this current moment repulsive and uncalled for.

"Here and accounted for!"

He's too cheerful when he comes beside you to link your arm with his. You scowl.

"Yes it's just FUCKING FINE! Invite yourself that's perfect!"

"Oh good! I'm glad I can join you!"

"You're so DENSE!"

You stop walking and look at him directly. He rolls his eyes and mutters that he's not stupid.

"I knew you were being sarcastic asshole. But I'm coming like it or not."

You push him away.

"You owe me considering you let me fall off the bed. I'm gonna find bruises now-" he points to random places on his body "-all over..." He gives you a wide eyed look.

"Please Karkat?"

You hate yourself. He makes you soft, your heart is soft. The way Terezi would sometimes. The way you did for Nepeta. You groan.

"Fine," you say low.

His soft pink lips give you a just smile and his eyes shine lightly. He leans in ever so slightly but you turn away to continue walking.

"Why do you do this to me," you mumble.

"What?"

You're startled by yourself. You didn't intend for that to be out loud and you surely didn't want to have to explain yourself.

"Why are you always such a nook licker?"

"Depends upon the nook," he chuckles.

You can almost feel your eyes dilate. Your body is drooling for him. Why is he so goddamn flirty?

"Karkat?"

Your name in his mouth all innocent makes your heart beat with anticipation.

"Yes?"

He leaves you in silence and then shakes his head.

"Aw nevermind," he says with a chuckle.

He hooks his arm around your shoulders and pats you on the head. You growl lowly, so as to not let him hear you. You roll your eyes at him. Seriously how could a single person be so infuriating? You shake him off and walk up ahead, admiring the world around you. Eventually he catches up with you, humming all the way.

"Why are you always so rude? I'm trying to be nice to you... I want you," he trails off and glances at you with a tease in his eyes. But even still...

You quiver at the sound of that. You want him, red and black; pale and ashen.. Your heart is racing. One twist to the next, John Egbert was toying with you and you just gave him permission to mentally do so as well. What were you thinking? Especially since you knew that he was messing with you...

"...As my friend," he finishes off laughing.

You know exactly what you were thinking. You wanted him, in expert sexual euphoria. You wanted him to make you feel full and empty all the same. You wanted him to want you fully and completely. You wanted him to need you the way Dave once needed you, before he lost Jade.

Now Dave was a different story. Sometimes he would tease you intellectually, implying maybe he was interested, but you weren't. Not emotionally at least. And then eventually, he just, he kissed you... And that was that, those were a long three years, and having him... It just made it shorter. He would sleep beside you, on top of you, beneath you... He would pull your hair and beg with his soft pink lips, his hips pressing into yours, his boner practically ripping through his clothes when he humped you. Dave was something else. He used and abused you and you were more than  willing to be his slave. But it was just a game, nothing more or less to either of you. That was a realization that came after you had landed yourselves in this new world... And you and him drifted far apart.

Not that most of it had anything to do with your relationship, but you think almost one hundred percent had to do with the loss of Jade. Jade what a precious girl. The two of you could have been the best of friends, and of course she would have kept past, present, and future you pacified. That wasn't something that anyone else was capable of doing. Or not as well as she was.

John was the most difficult loss, especially where you thought he was dead for most of that time. And to be honest, he was, just a different more successful version of him emerged through time shenanigans. And boom, a somehow older and more attractive version was placed in front of you. Destroying the very need that had been previously replaced when Dave waltzed in and took your virginity, like the savage he was.

You stumble and trip over your feet. You catch yourself before full on falling. John grabs your arm and the two of you stop walking.

"What was that... Are you okay Karkat?"

His voice almost sounds genuine.

"It was nothing, I just got lost in my thoughts and wasn't paying attention. I'm fine."

You can feel his icy eyes on you and you look up into them. You stand up straight and break away from his clutch. You brush yourself off and continue forward. He doesn't immediately follow but you hear when he does, your ears twitch at the sound. He runs to your side, his shoes lightly scuffing on the pavement.

"Isn't it beautiful out though Karkat? The rain, when was the last time you felt it?"

You shake your head.

"I was hoping to experience the sun actually. I didn't realize it was so... dreary out," you respond, quite normally.

"Oh. Have you still never felt the sun? I didn't realize..."

You glance over and see him pull his phone out of his pocket. He stares at it for a moment then smiles.

"Karkat do you wanna watch the sunrise tomorrow?! Then you can feel the sun on you and experience it and stuff. It's going to be nice and warm and... Trust me its beautiful."

He looks at you and smiles widely. You regretfully smile back at him.

"S-sure, John, but you're gonna have to get me up."

He nods erratically and laughs. "Of course I can! I'm good at waking you up!"

You stare back at the path in front of you. He moves closer to you.

"I promise you'll like it, Karkat."

In accordance with many romance movies you've seen since inheriting the space on this mishmash of a planet, sunrises can sometimes be... Romantic. Maybe tomorrow morning would be the day you'd tell him how you feel. Express yourself. And maybe he'd finally understand.

As the two of you walk there's more silence than there is chit chat which is good because you barely wanted him there in the first place. You pass through woods, swing sets, a park. Eventually you come to a cave.

"Oh this is that cave that was discovered, it was all over the news about two years ago. Do you want to go check it out? They say it's haunted and you can hear the screams and cries of women and children. I think it's just the wind though. It does have some peculiar drawings on the walls-"

"John, would you shut up," you interrupt him.

Something about what he just said struck a chord so you decide to make your way in. The further away from the entrance the closer you get to a light illuminating the dark cave. In the corner of your eye you notice the walls, but don't pay them much attention.

"See Karkat, look, look at the drawings. I wonder who made these... They can't decipher the symbols as it's not a language anyone recognizes. But from the pictures, they've been able to surmise what it probably says."

You pause, and on closer inspection, you see a lot of letters, all familiar to you. Old Alternian, any one of us trolls could decipher this... You move closer, along the walls and cringe. It's your story. You look to the opposite wall. The story there is that of the Sufferer. You pull at your hair, why is this happening? Whats the point of ancestral relevance now? The game is over! They're not important!

But Karkat, we are. Exclusively to you. You were the only person who didn't accept us.

You look around confused. Where did that come from? Who said that? You feel like you're gonna puke.

"See did you hear that screaming?" It's only clear to you, Karkat. "It just did it again... This place is creepy man." He can't hear us. This is meant for you.

"Who's there," you call out.

"Karkat there's no one here. It's just the wind."

You don't answer him but continue down the narrow cave checking every inch of the walls. No doubt, it's Alternian. This history should have been erased but here it is and always will be. You gasp. Further down the story shows John's planets history.

"John have you seen this?"

He shook his head.

"I didn't know about-" He pauses at the image of his own father being killed. His posture falls. "Does.... Does that mean the rest is your story then? I guess I didn't put it together."

"Yes it was our story..." You hear him choke and cough. At a glance you see his eyes overwhelmed and spilling over. "John are you okay?"

He shakes his head. "I miss him. I miss my dad so much..."

You press a hand on his back, rubbing circles. You suggest you continue on down the cave, if he's up for it. He nods and wipes his face with his hands. In the end of the cave, the survivors of a big green monster (Caliborne) are revered as gods, with no names or specific details. Hell Dave was portrayed as bronze rather than pale and red eyed. It was very roundabout as to who was who, but if you knew, you knew.

But you guys aren't gods, just a bunch of kids who created a world in harmony with each other. You aren't gods, you're just a bunch of kids who suffered at the hands of great evil to create a universe that would consist of trolls and humans, the genetics mixing and creating a new race as well. The whole thing was making your head spin.

You sit down from nausea. Who knew these things, who could have drawn this-this... What was this? You clench your eyes shut and think. Did Nepeta survive? No. But.... Maybe there would always be someone like her... Who did these cave drawings?

"Aggghhhh." You put your head down.

It was starting to pour again outside the opening of the cave; it came down and echoed into the space around you, filling the cave.

"Are you okay," John asks.

"Just a bit dizzy..." You rest your head on the wall behind you.

John eventually joins you on the floor of the cave and puts an arm around you, pulling you close to him. He's wet and cold from the wind in the cave and the rain from outside. Compared to you, you're actually warm. He pulls his arm from around you and rests it on your knee. He lays his head against your shoulder and closes his eyes.

"Sorry, you're just... You're just so warm..."

You find yourself wrapping an arm around his shoulders and he rests his head closer to your heart. He could hear it and you couldn't control it's heavy thumps of anticipation. But he didn't say anything.

"We should go back," you whisper.

He shakes his head. "But I'm comfortable."

You sigh. "Yes but I'm sure you'd be just as comfortable and warm at home John. Actually probably warmer. C'mon."

He clenches your knee cap and slides it up your thigh a little bit. You push him off and stand up. Your vision cuts out from moving too quickly and you put a hand on the wall.

"W-we should probably get going John. Oh and John?"

"Yes?"

"I-... I can't see. I need your help..."

You hear him get up and feel his arm under yours and around your rib cage to support you. While your vision is spotty, he hangs onto you and you cling to him.

"Don't worry, I'll get you home safe."

The two of you hobble out of the cave as you slowly regain your vision. You lean over and support yourself on your knees dry heaving. What was wrong with you?

"Karkat?" His voice comes urgent as he places a hand on your back. "Karkat please we're not too far from home, I'll get you home safe."

His playful demeanor had left him when he came and found you leaving this morning. He was very serious today and you weren't sure why. He put an arm around you again. A soft wind came and swept you up quickly. The two of you start to sprint. Somehow it didn't make you feel sicker, but you didn't feel better.

Do you understand now why you must learn your story? In order to progress you must accept your past, Karkat. We will guide you.

You slipped and fell in the wet grass. The voice put you off balance and made you lose your footing. John wasn't far behind you.

"Ah! Karkat! A-are you-"

"John are you okay, I'm so sorry-"

You break out into laughter. You were so stupidly clumsy. Nothing even hurt, you just embarrassed yourself in front of him.

"I'm sorry. Haha, I'm just so clumsy John."

He smiles back at you. His eyes are wide with wonder. You shake your head and roll onto your back to stare up at the sky. John boosts himself up and reaches a hand out to you.

"C'mon we're almost home and I'm cold and a little hungry for lunch."

You grasp his hand and he pulls you up. The two of you take it slow home. When you get there you slide your shoes off beside his. The two of you chat your way to your room, shutting the door behind you. He begins to disband his clothing, down to his underwear. You can't help but watch. His skin is so pale, especially in comparison to your own. He catches you watching and you begin to take your clothes off too. You both change into dry clothes, him keeping relatively close to ensure you don't fall over.

"John, I'm fine don't fucking worry."

He shakes his head and keeps a hand on your side.

"Buuut, you could fall over though. And I don't want you getting hurt. I told you I'd get you home safe, and I intend as well on keeping you safe while I can..."

You wonder why he's being so nice to you. Did it finally click with him? The two of you finish getting dressed and then he follows you closely to the kitchen.

"Now do you want soup sandwich or what," he asks, assisting you to a seat at the island in the kitchen.

"Umm... Soup I guess seems safe," you respond. He smiles at you and begins cooking up some soup for the two of you. You lean your head on the counter top.

Before you know it hes pressing a hand on your shoulder and softly whispering your name. You shake yourself out of a sleepy stupor and perk up at the smell of soup. He thumbs at your cheek wiping something away.

"Why were you crying," he asks.

You pause and think. You honestly don't remember. You don't even remember falling asleep, just the sensation of his warm hands on you to wake you.

"I.. I don't know."

"Don't worry about it then, I'm sure it's nothing."

God he was being so sweet and kind. Why was he being this way. What did he want? You pulled the bowl he had placed in front of you closer. You spoon at it and eat. It rushes down your throat and into your stomach. It warms every inch of your body, from your nose to your toes. While you eat it's silent. Afterwards he walks you to the room and lays down beside you.

"I'll be here until you fall asleep," he whispers. He rubs your stomach and nestles his face into your neck. His breathing is calm and sets you to sleep.

#the doctor and his trolls #homestuck #johnkat #homestuck trolls #trolls #karkat vantas