monthly word count - february!
TOTAL: 29 777
haha welp another 300 words and i'd have broken 30k. oh well XD
POSTED:
-Several three-sentences-ish ficlets, posted farther down in this post (1 3392 words) some of which are covalent or sunlightverse or bt-inspired.
-Sunlightverse: Nepeta tells Equius about the new pony; chatlog (824 words)
-Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Shooting Stars Will Leave A Trail (9 908 words)
WIP:
-Pale Krakens: that sequel where Dave and Karkat and Bro film a pale porn movie (1 280 words)
-Demon Patrol chapter I forget, twentysomething (1 184 words)
-Covalent 'verse, pesterlog between John and Karkat about blackrom and body dysphoria (2 885 words)
-Crash Standing chapter idk (4 202 words)
-Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Sequel at Baron Ryoval's (637 words, petered out)
-BATTLEFIELD TERRA CHAPTER EIGHT >:O (7 467 words) (no teaser for that one bcs i'm evil and it's all spoilery as all fucks u.u)
FICLETS:
no specific 'verse:
It takes him until the middle of the movie before John remembers why this particular movie was at the bottom of his pile, despite vague positive memories of it.
The hero’s dad dies in it.
Karkat doesn’t say anything when John lists slowly against his side, just winds his arm and the blanket he was hogging around John’s shoulders, and when John tells him that no, he wants to finish watching it, he doesn’t nag him hardly at all, just holds him warm and close and nuzzles his hair until John can breathe without a sob catching in his throat again.
--
"Dave, you bleatbeast-sucking traitor, get the fuck off my lusus’ back before I tear you to shreds my own damn self!"
Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades, and kept on hanging on for dear life. “Yeah, no - fuck - his own back is the only place his claws won’t reach, so in the immortal - whoops - words of the sage, yee fuckin haw.”
--
"What the shit do you mean, her ashbuddies fail to save her ass and she gets helm’d after all," Dave says, mouth hanging open a little bit and for once not even caring because holy shit, "No she doesn’t, I refuse this ending, this ending is the uncoolest, cheapest, lamest thing that could have happened and I’m blaming the editors because ain’t no way the story was intended to go like that."
"Yeah, well," Karkat retorts, eyebrows drawn so Dave won’t notice the overbright look of his eyes (spoiler, Dave does anyways), "it’s what’s written on the page, and the author is conveniently vaporized along with my entire fucking universe, what do you suggest, that we fix it ourselves?"
Dave blinks, and then Karkat blinks, and they go, “oh, hey" at the exact same time.
(The helmsman lady ends up with a hella pimped up ride she’s somehow in full control of, to the weary regret of her other leaves, because the sprinklers are included; Dave blames Karkat for most of the tentacle sex with sexy alien hitchikers.)
--
demon patrol
"And if you frick in my jacuzzi," aunt Romy tells them with a pleasant smile, "I will have your balls for earrings, yeah?"
Dave grunts a bored agreement, and tries twice as hard not to pay any attention to his demon’s little grunts and sighs as the heat penetrates his shell and bubbles dance along the thin membrane of his wings.
His heroic efforts not to desecrate the place are alas wasted when Karkat decides to tuck his foot between Dave’s legs, right under his ass.
He tries to hold back but then Karkat flexes his big toe and nudges Dave’s balls from underneath with a knowing, heavy-lidded look on his face, and Dave figures, hey, he’s gonna lose ‘em anyway via Lalonde Revenge Express, might as well wring all the enjoyment out of ‘em he can get in the meantime.
--
His master is humping his thighs again like an idiot and Karkat is waiting him out, waiting for dinner, and then the angle changes and something twangs from his crotch up.
It’s not against his - that too-soft place that the human is pressing, a bit higher; it impacts the whole area, almost, only it feels muted enough that his nerves don’t scream, no, overload, get away, and it’s - it’s…
He chews on his lip - the pain balances him out - and he winds his arms tight around his master’s neck to make sure the idiot doesn’t change the angle before Karkat has decided he’s done.
--
battlefield terra
So sometimes when you’re hosting an alien, unintended things will happen. Alarmingly, hilariously unintended.
Like Karkat getting drunk on lemon sherbet.
Turns out the aliens have a kind of guts that turns sugar straight into alcohol, and usually it’s not enough that John has ever noticed Karkat acting tipsy, but lemon sherbet is hells of sugary.
John nods in all the right places as Karkat talks at him at lenght in a hilarious mix of alienese and mangled English, and admires with all due attention the scribbles Karkat is making on all the paper napkins he could grab in a single fist (a lot of them), and when Karkat wobbles while getting up he wraps his arm around his shoulders to keep him steady.
Then Karkat lets out this hilariously drawn out “ah, well” sigh and slumps against John’s side, and John ruffles his hair, once, teasingly.
He ends up with his hand hells of sore, because the crickety noises Karkat makes are as adorable as his growls when John stops are worrisome.
--
"Haha, come on, Dad, just once," John said - for the fifth time - when he finished his laps and extracted himself from the little kart he’d won yet another race with.
By the side of the track his father stood, watching patiently as always, and okay karting was fun enough for a little while but after piloting a mech it was also ridiculously easy, and they had another ten tickets to blow through; he needed something to keep him amused, okay, and his dad going all frazzled behind the wheel as everyone on the track rammed him most unpolitely could just be it.
Ten minutes later he was sitting in shock as his staid, unfun dad beat him to the finish line again.
"Whoa, you fight dirty," he said when he could speak again. His dad just winked.
--
covalent
It takes Jade bursting into guffaws and Caliborn - of all fucking people - asking what the heck is on his forehead for Dave to realize Rose has callously used his moment of floaty weakness to draw a dick on his face.
Make that a dick and a bulge, and the helpful sound effect of “frot, frot.”
Being cheesed off at her about that traitorous and unfair attack on his flawless visage beats being scared stiff about all the things a stranger could have done to him instead that he would have agreeably acquiesced to, so he goes ahead and does that, and complains loudly that he should have seen it coming when she was willing to go first.
--
sunlightverse (first one is not even close to canon as it's pretty warm in their area but it was fun)
"We’ll be in and out before you know it," Karkat said, his nice low voice doing that purry thing that made Gamzee all up and want to tickle at his cheeks to feel them warm under his hands.
He’s thinking he might do that anywhichways, right now, even though he’s more likely to get auricular sponge clots full of righteous yellage than some more cute from his best friend.
"Can’t see as to how I’ll ever feel like getting my sleep on ever again," he says through clacking teeth, and lets Karkat pour another kinknasty bucketful of mountain spring water straight up over his nug.
--
There is a spring at the center of the island, tinkling clear and enthusiastic from a rock shaped vaguely like a human bulge (for which Karkat blames the Striders and also John) whose water runs down into natural pools and then cascades through a series of troll-made ones of varying depths - or, well, treme-made, he supposes.
The one due south is tepid at best under the sun, but the air is so warm it feels good; and there out of sight of all other pools he brings Gamzee, so they can float and play around and wash each other with the slowest, tenderest care.
He ends up dunking Gamzee for cause of grievous stupid twice.
--
Mouth hanging open in - for once - perfect silence, Karkat stares down at the rolled-up creature Signless just shoved into his arms with a snarled, “She’s teething, thank you so much for having time to waste in my vicinity, have fun.”
He’s gone back into his hive - door closing quiet but with heavy finality - before Karkat can find his words again, and when he does they’re just a series of “ow, ow, you little turd-munching viperbeast,” because Xulea has decided to test her mouthful of new fangs right on his fucking arm (no wonder Signless’ sleeves were so ridiculously tattered.)
The only saving grace in this is that being young, stupid and undiscerning, she doesn’t recognize Karkat as not-her-parent, and doesn’t start howling until Karkat is trying to peel her off to hand her to Jade, and by that point they’re on the other side of the village and not at risk of death by dull scythe to the head.
TEASERS
--
Pale Krakens: that sequel where Dave and Karkat and Bro film a pale porn movie
--
Dev steps aside and bows him ahead through the door, and gropes the hell out of his ass.
Lights have been brought in, angled, and wow is that a pornographic pile. Plushies in pastel tones, a few lusus-white ones -- is that a Tinkerbull? -- not a single hard item in sight. They're going to be swallowed alive in that shit, holy crap.
Bro is sitting on it, barefoot and in a tight, black tanktop with his sign clearly visible because he's a brazen son of a bitch (like his fins and his bleached hair wouldn't be recognizable enough on their own, but wow. Dev isn't wearing his sign and Karkat isn't wearing a sign at all. He guesses they're hardly close enough to stardom and brand names to be able to flaunt it like that.)
He whistles when he sees them, lips turning up a mere millimeter in approval.
"Hey there, sweeties."
Dev only belatedly notices the two new trolls behind the cameras, and that only because Karkat was throwing them tense little glances. Behind them, seated against the far wall, Terezi waves, gives him and Karkat a close-mouthed smile.
Karkat snorts, wrinkles his nose, Dev isn't sure at what, the flirting or his own lapse. "Hey there, cholerbear."
Dev's the one fighting not to snort this time. He can tell Karkat was trying not to sound sarcastic, but yeeeeah, that one missed by a mile. Back behind them Terezi is pinching her lips and looking rueful.
--
Demon Patrol
--
"Is that a house, or a castle?"
Dave snorts as he gets out of the car. "Castles are prettier. This is a pile of giant pizza boxes, dude." The pile isn't even straight and even, there are corners sticking our everywhere.
Crouched beside him on the cement of the driveway Karkat is still staring up doubtfully.
"Besides it's not that big, just kinda sprawly."
"There's a tower."
"It's an observatory!" Roxy calls out from the other side of the little bridge, and waves. Dave vaguely wonders how she heard them so well, with the little running stream between them and the waterfall just behind the corner where she's standing, but he sticks his hands in his pockets and goes.
"Oh, an observatory!" Karkat replies, sarcastic, as he makes his dubious, cautious way across. "Whew. Totally different!"
Roxy snickers in her hand. Karkat stalks along, annoyed and making damn sure, Dave notices, to walk in the exact middle of the not-so-narrow bridge. Pff.
Yeah, okay, the railing is a single bar of metal that stands waist-high on Dave, which means it's useless to him as protection against falls, and probably the iron content itches at him a bit.
"Uh, you're okay with running water, right?" he thinks to check once they're about halfway through. Usually it's the more vampiric types that'll have issues with crossing those, and he doesn't think Karkat fits the criteria, but hey, what does he know about Blood types.
Karkat stares deadpan at him for a few seconds, and then goes, "You're aware the only reason I don't trip you overboard is you're carrying my cell phone, right?"
Yeah right. Dave doesn't mention the contract though.
Roxy hugs him when he gets to her, hanging from his neck until he goes oof, and then falls into a crouch and grins right into Karkat's face, arms open, fingers wriggling. "Hug?"
"Does 'pincushion' mean anything to you?"
"Aw, we could be careful."
"No."
Dave lets them bicker as he ambles around the corner of the house toward the front door. He spends a couple of seconds watching the scenery -- the way the forest unrolls under them past the waterfall is always pretty nice, but he has photos of it enough to bury someone with, even in today's pretty nice spring weather.
He pushes the door open and walks in. "Hi, aunty--"
A slash of bright blade. He ducks, barely, rolls forward into the house instead of back (behind him there's only the drop and the waterfall; bad plan.)
There's a katana abandoned on the stairs, right besides Rose who's sitting on the marble steps knees together, chin in her hands. He rushes for it, ducking on instinct another swipe that cuts the air next to his arm.
And then red erupts violently behind him.
Something crumbles, hits the floor. He fetches up against the steps, ass bruised from turning even as he grabbed for the sword and tripping, in time to see part of the sleeve of Zazzerpan the Learned fall to the floor in pieces, the resulting rubble rolling around Bro's feet.
Karkat is bristling with thorns of blood; his teeth are bared to the gums. Holy fucking shit --
Dave yells "No!" too late; the attack is already thrown, fast as blinking.
Bro disappears; reappears on the stairs behind Rose. Lil Cal is sitting on his shoulder.
"Karkat, stop, what the fuck!"
Bristling all over, Karkat goes statue-still in the doorstep. Behind him Roxy is staring with one hand on her mouth, the other one on where she's not carrying her gun today.
There was a moment where vision persistence meant Bro's afterimage was speared right through the sternum. Dave's heart is still running kind of fast about it.
He gets up, legs a bit shaky. Rose stays seated.
"I wasn't trying to hurt him, Karkat," Bro says, oddly quiet and nice about it. "It's just something we do for training. Family tradition, yeah? Cal's under orders to get him out of the way if he can't."
... Cal would? Wow, that's. Huh. A pretty nice chunk of "don't think about the implications Bro was a great Bro okay shut up" of his childhood made baseless, actually. (Son of a bitch could have told him!)
--
Covalent 'verse, pesterlog between John and Karkat about blackrom and body dysphoria
--
EB: so... i hear you're back with gamzee? seriously???
CG: OH, *YOU* WANT TO HAVE THIS CONVERSATION. YOU, WHO ARE OBVIOUSLY A CONNOISSEUR IN ALL MATTERS PERTAINING TO TROLLHOOD AND MOIRALLEGIANCE. WHO AM I TO DISAPPOINT!
CG: SO, I HEAR YOU’RE WITH *VRISKA*? SERIOUSLY???
EB: ...
EB: on second thought, let's talk about movies.
CG: YEAH, WE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY FALL ON EACH OTHER ALL CLAWS OUT OTHERWISE, AND THEN IT'LL BE HELL HAVING TO MAKE OUT.
CG: MAKE UP.
CG: I MEANT MAKE UP. FUCK. TYPO. HAHA.
EB: dot dot dot dot dot, karkat
EB: DOT DOT DOT even.
CG: GROAN.
CG: I AM ATTEMPTING TO TELL YOU WHERE TO PUT YOUR DOTS IN A WAY THAT WON'T END EMBARRASSINGLY ONCE AGAIN, AND IT'S NOT WORKING. THE EXTENT OF MY FAILURE IS ABYSMAL.
CG: JUST. PRETEND YOU GOT TOLD, OKAY? AND IT WAS SOMEHOW BOTH SCATHING AND ENTIRELY PLATONIC.
EB: only because you're shame-killing me by proxy, you suave manly man you.
EB: so how about this niklas kayidj dude? awesome, or awesomest? :B
CG: YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT, AND THEN YOU PLAY IT SURPRISED WHEN I END UP HATE-HITTING ON YOU.
CG: I'M STARTING TO SERIOUSLY DOUBT YOUR CANDIDNESS, JOHN CHUCKLEFUCK EGBERT.
EB: groaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.
EB: can we like
EB: stop mentioning it entirely. that'd be swell. poof! out of existence entirely.
EB: karkat?
CG: BE NICE IF LIFE WORKED LIKE THAT, HUH. YOU IGNORE IT, AND IT CONVENIENTLY ERASES ITSELF FOR YOU.
CG: WHAT THE FUCK EVER. YOU KNOW WHAT. FINE.
EB: uh, did i just hurt your feelings here?
CG: WHAT FEELINGS? DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE FEELINGS AT ALL, BUT ESPECIALLY TOWARD YOU? WHO WOULD BE SO RETARDED AS TO IMAGINE THAT?
EB: i just meant ... feelings in general...
CG: HOW CAN I HAVE ANYTHING YOU'RE UNWILLING TO MENTION, WHEN WE ALL KNOW YOUR ACKNOWLEDGEMENT IS THE ONLY THING THAT KEEPS THE UNIVERSE AFLOAT.
EB: um.
CG: WHAT.
CG: DON'T LEAVE ME HANGING NOW. WHAT?
CG: JOHN? DID YOU ACTUALLY WALK OFF HERE?
EB: no! i'm just thinking, okay?
CG: ABOUT?
EB: things. and stuff. mostly stuff.
CG: GNNRH.
EB: hehe.
EB: okay, urr. don't fly off the handle right from the first sentence, okay, let me finish first?
CG: REQUEST PROVISIONALLY GRANTED, BUT I'M EYEING YOUR WINDOW WITH A GIMLET EYE AND READY TO REVOKE IT SHOULD YOU ABUSE IT WITH STUPID.
EB: bluh bluh i am karkat vantas and i never give anyone an inch for i am fearsome and steel-hearted, rawr, rawr.
CG: ARE YOU FINISHED? LOOKS LIKE IT. ANSWER TIME! FUCK YOU.
EB: kaaaaaaaarkat.
CG: OH NO. DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE APPROPRIATE HER QUIRK. I REFUSE.
EB: too late! :p
EB: but ok seriously now. please?
CG: FINE! I'M SITTING ON MY FRONDS STARTING NOW.
EB: ok, thanks.
EB: okay.
EB: i might as well just jump right in, right?
EB: so.
EB: haha, wow, all that answering you're not doing, i guess you're *really* sitting on your hands right now. hehehe.
EB: okay, fine. i'll stop stalling.
EB: or try to. argh.
EB: okay! doing it now.
EB: ... i don't know where to start!
CG: IYHUG40**TUF59&i
EB: ... did you just headbutt your keyboard, buddy.
CG: %M?LN%IJUOIB BHMK§*
EB: i'm taking that as a yes. hehehehehehehehe.
CG: FCJUJCK YUYUGOUYO
EB: i fuck you too, karkat. ;B
CG: HOW IS THIS NOT A BLACK SOLICITATION, YOU FUCKLEMUNCH.
EB: argh! damn you, can't you just stop *PUSHING* for one second in your life???
EB: how about you sit your ass back on your hands right the heck now, okay.
EB: are you doing it yet?
CG: Y
EB: okay, good.
EB: urgh
EB: okay, "i" sentences. right. i can do that.
EB: i feel like you think i think you're gross when i say i don't want to think about
EB: you know
EB: hatemacking on you.
EB: and like i'm saying you're not good enough or something
EB: what i'm saying is i find myself gross
EB: because i'm a human dude who is straight and as a human dude who is straight i don't mack on my bros of the dude persuasion.
EB: or maybe for a joke i guess, not for serious, but it was
EB: hella serious.
EB: hella WAY too serious.
EB: and also not me.
EB: i feel like i'm a werewolf now, karkat.
EB: i have this rabid thing in a corner of my head that wants to savage people i don't know for daring to step into my space (which is now way larger!) and that wants to bite my friends on the mouth until they bleed all tasty!
EB: it's
EB: it's scary as hell, okay?
EB: i don't *get* what troll me wants. dudes and violence?
EB: that's not me. neither one is me.
EB: it's not like i
EB: uh, do you actually still have a crush on me?
EB: like, a real one, i mean, not a little silly one where it's mostly awkward jokes that keep happening and making it more of an awkward thing than it really is?
CG: YOU'D PREFER THAT, I GUESS.
CG: SORRY.
CG: TO BE HONEST...
CG: I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS. COULD BE A LITTLE SILLY CRUSH. BUT IT HAS A SHIT TON OF HORMONES PUSHING BEHIND IT, I CAN'T JUDGE ACCURATELY. IT'S.
CG: YOU'RE HOT, *AND* MY FIRST REAL HATEKISS, AND MY HORMONES ARE PENT UP TO THE TEETH. I DON'T KNOW.
EB: huh.
EB: i guess it's not so bad if we're both confused as hell about it.
CG: MNH.
--
Crash Standing chapter idk
--
Bec tries to turn his head to see what she's doing, and you tug on his ears cautiously, still expecting to be snapped at. You try to hold his muzzle facing forward. Predictably, after trying to shake you off for a couple of seconds, he zaps out from Harley's cowgirl grip and reappears a few steps to the side.
"Argh. Sorry."
"No, he's been doing that all morning. Annoying!"
"You should bribe him with treats."
"Like he can't zap them out of my hand if he wants them!"
You watch uselessly as she corrals the beast again before you approach and attempt pettins again, which you kind of suck at. Who knows where he's been, right. Ew. And you have white fur all over your black shirt now, that shit floats or something. You wouldn't be surprised if he deliberately teleported it on people. Asshole.
"So what's the plan for today?" Jade asks you as she tickles her way up her dog's flank.
"Well, laundry first." You shrug. "Then I don't know. Dave has John this afternoon."
She snorts. "Do you dorks trade off custody or what?"
Cough cough. "What? That'd be silly. Dave just mentioned it this morning in the chat is all." Well actually in a private side-chat but. "Anyway it makes sense to coordinate, I mean, we wouldn't want John to have to juggle his wife and his mistress on his own, he'd drop one of us or probably even both."
"Pffff."
You pout a bit.
Bec is licking your hand. Eugh. Gross. At least it's distracting him from the sneaky iodining going on at his shoulder, so you suffer through it.
"I was thinking about hanging out with Karkat maybe. I dunno."
The way she grins up at you, you don't understand.
Well, you kind of do but you wish you didn't. It's a shipping smile.
"Like a date?"
"No! Just like hanging out while he does his own chores, I dunno. And annoying him and stuff." You wish you could scratch the back of your neck, but your hand is all drooly. "And okay maybe sneaking in some ninja making out. If we can. But I dunno, he's fun to hang out with."
Okay, now she's looking at you like you're a robot that refuses to work. Okay, why.
"So the plan is to hang out with Karkat... because he's fun to hang out with and you like him, and you want to spend time with him... With an option to perhaps make out... But not like a date."
You glower at her over your shades. You try to look disapproving but you have a feeling you mostly manage pouty.
"Well, okay!" She finishes cleaning up her dog, whose tongue you hold between two fingers (euuugh) and who is trying to lick your palm with the furled tip. "Why isn't it a date?"
You wipe your hand on your shirt pointedly, and then take off your shirt even more pointedly to lob it at the laundry bag.
"Because. Shaddup. Why are you even asking me that, is it even appropriate for an ex to think about?"
"Dunno, but it's kind of sexy, so you bet your tush I'm thinking about it."
You splutter. Damn it, how come she can still ruin you so easily! She's grinning still, dimpling, eyes so green; you feel a little twinge. Yeah, so, you used to be in love with that.
It was pretty nice. You're glad it happened.
--
Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Sequel at Baron Ryoval's (petered out)
--
The point it had all gone to hell, Mark rather thought, was the second Elizaveta recognized Miles.
The scent he'd picked up from her was addled with strange foods, and drugs enough to kill a horse. The appearance was jarringly off-note -- sickly, confused, frail. But the mind?
She'd spent the whole return trip to Jackson's Whole pretending to be Mark's sister; he'd had her nudging her nosy thoughts into his head until he was almost used to it. They'd played the role well enough to fool the casual observer; he'd even learned the best spots to pet her, dutifully.
If he had needed any more proof that he wasn't Miles and would never be, it was this one: the burst of sheer joy he felt the backlash of, and the way the most controlled, most regal semi-sentient creature he had ever met pouncing Miles to the ground to wash his face, whining, tail wagging hard enough to shake her whole frame.
She had tolerated Mark willingly enough, and she trusted that he wanted Miles back, too. But she could feel his soul, and still didn't love him.
Which he was mildly peeved at and a lot more glad about, to be honest, in a rather queasy way. These were definitely not shoes he wanted to fill.
But he'd gone to try to salvage his cover, glib words on his tongue -- "She took such a shine to him, well I guess he is my littermate," and when the windows exploded to let in the troopers he was a sitting duck.
So was Miles, baffled by that huge lump of toothy fur on top of him who all the Duronas had recoiled from.
They didn't stand a chance. Mark fought anyway.
--
He had his first memory cascade in the torture chamber.
haha welp another 300 words and i'd have broken 30k. oh well XD
POSTED:
-Several three-sentences-ish ficlets, posted farther down in this post (1 3392 words) some of which are covalent or sunlightverse or bt-inspired.
-Sunlightverse: Nepeta tells Equius about the new pony; chatlog (824 words)
-Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Shooting Stars Will Leave A Trail (9 908 words)
WIP:
-Pale Krakens: that sequel where Dave and Karkat and Bro film a pale porn movie (1 280 words)
-Demon Patrol chapter I forget, twentysomething (1 184 words)
-Covalent 'verse, pesterlog between John and Karkat about blackrom and body dysphoria (2 885 words)
-Crash Standing chapter idk (4 202 words)
-Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Sequel at Baron Ryoval's (637 words, petered out)
-BATTLEFIELD TERRA CHAPTER EIGHT >:O (7 467 words) (no teaser for that one bcs i'm evil and it's all spoilery as all fucks u.u)
FICLETS:
no specific 'verse:
It takes him until the middle of the movie before John remembers why this particular movie was at the bottom of his pile, despite vague positive memories of it.
The hero’s dad dies in it.
Karkat doesn’t say anything when John lists slowly against his side, just winds his arm and the blanket he was hogging around John’s shoulders, and when John tells him that no, he wants to finish watching it, he doesn’t nag him hardly at all, just holds him warm and close and nuzzles his hair until John can breathe without a sob catching in his throat again.
--
"Dave, you bleatbeast-sucking traitor, get the fuck off my lusus’ back before I tear you to shreds my own damn self!"
Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades, and kept on hanging on for dear life. “Yeah, no - fuck - his own back is the only place his claws won’t reach, so in the immortal - whoops - words of the sage, yee fuckin haw.”
--
"What the shit do you mean, her ashbuddies fail to save her ass and she gets helm’d after all," Dave says, mouth hanging open a little bit and for once not even caring because holy shit, "No she doesn’t, I refuse this ending, this ending is the uncoolest, cheapest, lamest thing that could have happened and I’m blaming the editors because ain’t no way the story was intended to go like that."
"Yeah, well," Karkat retorts, eyebrows drawn so Dave won’t notice the overbright look of his eyes (spoiler, Dave does anyways), "it’s what’s written on the page, and the author is conveniently vaporized along with my entire fucking universe, what do you suggest, that we fix it ourselves?"
Dave blinks, and then Karkat blinks, and they go, “oh, hey" at the exact same time.
(The helmsman lady ends up with a hella pimped up ride she’s somehow in full control of, to the weary regret of her other leaves, because the sprinklers are included; Dave blames Karkat for most of the tentacle sex with sexy alien hitchikers.)
--
demon patrol
"And if you frick in my jacuzzi," aunt Romy tells them with a pleasant smile, "I will have your balls for earrings, yeah?"
Dave grunts a bored agreement, and tries twice as hard not to pay any attention to his demon’s little grunts and sighs as the heat penetrates his shell and bubbles dance along the thin membrane of his wings.
His heroic efforts not to desecrate the place are alas wasted when Karkat decides to tuck his foot between Dave’s legs, right under his ass.
He tries to hold back but then Karkat flexes his big toe and nudges Dave’s balls from underneath with a knowing, heavy-lidded look on his face, and Dave figures, hey, he’s gonna lose ‘em anyway via Lalonde Revenge Express, might as well wring all the enjoyment out of ‘em he can get in the meantime.
--
His master is humping his thighs again like an idiot and Karkat is waiting him out, waiting for dinner, and then the angle changes and something twangs from his crotch up.
It’s not against his - that too-soft place that the human is pressing, a bit higher; it impacts the whole area, almost, only it feels muted enough that his nerves don’t scream, no, overload, get away, and it’s - it’s…
He chews on his lip - the pain balances him out - and he winds his arms tight around his master’s neck to make sure the idiot doesn’t change the angle before Karkat has decided he’s done.
--
battlefield terra
So sometimes when you’re hosting an alien, unintended things will happen. Alarmingly, hilariously unintended.
Like Karkat getting drunk on lemon sherbet.
Turns out the aliens have a kind of guts that turns sugar straight into alcohol, and usually it’s not enough that John has ever noticed Karkat acting tipsy, but lemon sherbet is hells of sugary.
John nods in all the right places as Karkat talks at him at lenght in a hilarious mix of alienese and mangled English, and admires with all due attention the scribbles Karkat is making on all the paper napkins he could grab in a single fist (a lot of them), and when Karkat wobbles while getting up he wraps his arm around his shoulders to keep him steady.
Then Karkat lets out this hilariously drawn out “ah, well” sigh and slumps against John’s side, and John ruffles his hair, once, teasingly.
He ends up with his hand hells of sore, because the crickety noises Karkat makes are as adorable as his growls when John stops are worrisome.
--
"Haha, come on, Dad, just once," John said - for the fifth time - when he finished his laps and extracted himself from the little kart he’d won yet another race with.
By the side of the track his father stood, watching patiently as always, and okay karting was fun enough for a little while but after piloting a mech it was also ridiculously easy, and they had another ten tickets to blow through; he needed something to keep him amused, okay, and his dad going all frazzled behind the wheel as everyone on the track rammed him most unpolitely could just be it.
Ten minutes later he was sitting in shock as his staid, unfun dad beat him to the finish line again.
"Whoa, you fight dirty," he said when he could speak again. His dad just winked.
--
covalent
It takes Jade bursting into guffaws and Caliborn - of all fucking people - asking what the heck is on his forehead for Dave to realize Rose has callously used his moment of floaty weakness to draw a dick on his face.
Make that a dick and a bulge, and the helpful sound effect of “frot, frot.”
Being cheesed off at her about that traitorous and unfair attack on his flawless visage beats being scared stiff about all the things a stranger could have done to him instead that he would have agreeably acquiesced to, so he goes ahead and does that, and complains loudly that he should have seen it coming when she was willing to go first.
--
sunlightverse (first one is not even close to canon as it's pretty warm in their area but it was fun)
"We’ll be in and out before you know it," Karkat said, his nice low voice doing that purry thing that made Gamzee all up and want to tickle at his cheeks to feel them warm under his hands.
He’s thinking he might do that anywhichways, right now, even though he’s more likely to get auricular sponge clots full of righteous yellage than some more cute from his best friend.
"Can’t see as to how I’ll ever feel like getting my sleep on ever again," he says through clacking teeth, and lets Karkat pour another kinknasty bucketful of mountain spring water straight up over his nug.
--
There is a spring at the center of the island, tinkling clear and enthusiastic from a rock shaped vaguely like a human bulge (for which Karkat blames the Striders and also John) whose water runs down into natural pools and then cascades through a series of troll-made ones of varying depths - or, well, treme-made, he supposes.
The one due south is tepid at best under the sun, but the air is so warm it feels good; and there out of sight of all other pools he brings Gamzee, so they can float and play around and wash each other with the slowest, tenderest care.
He ends up dunking Gamzee for cause of grievous stupid twice.
--
Mouth hanging open in - for once - perfect silence, Karkat stares down at the rolled-up creature Signless just shoved into his arms with a snarled, “She’s teething, thank you so much for having time to waste in my vicinity, have fun.”
He’s gone back into his hive - door closing quiet but with heavy finality - before Karkat can find his words again, and when he does they’re just a series of “ow, ow, you little turd-munching viperbeast,” because Xulea has decided to test her mouthful of new fangs right on his fucking arm (no wonder Signless’ sleeves were so ridiculously tattered.)
The only saving grace in this is that being young, stupid and undiscerning, she doesn’t recognize Karkat as not-her-parent, and doesn’t start howling until Karkat is trying to peel her off to hand her to Jade, and by that point they’re on the other side of the village and not at risk of death by dull scythe to the head.
TEASERS
--
Pale Krakens: that sequel where Dave and Karkat and Bro film a pale porn movie
--
Dev steps aside and bows him ahead through the door, and gropes the hell out of his ass.
Lights have been brought in, angled, and wow is that a pornographic pile. Plushies in pastel tones, a few lusus-white ones -- is that a Tinkerbull? -- not a single hard item in sight. They're going to be swallowed alive in that shit, holy crap.
Bro is sitting on it, barefoot and in a tight, black tanktop with his sign clearly visible because he's a brazen son of a bitch (like his fins and his bleached hair wouldn't be recognizable enough on their own, but wow. Dev isn't wearing his sign and Karkat isn't wearing a sign at all. He guesses they're hardly close enough to stardom and brand names to be able to flaunt it like that.)
He whistles when he sees them, lips turning up a mere millimeter in approval.
"Hey there, sweeties."
Dev only belatedly notices the two new trolls behind the cameras, and that only because Karkat was throwing them tense little glances. Behind them, seated against the far wall, Terezi waves, gives him and Karkat a close-mouthed smile.
Karkat snorts, wrinkles his nose, Dev isn't sure at what, the flirting or his own lapse. "Hey there, cholerbear."
Dev's the one fighting not to snort this time. He can tell Karkat was trying not to sound sarcastic, but yeeeeah, that one missed by a mile. Back behind them Terezi is pinching her lips and looking rueful.
--
Demon Patrol
--
"Is that a house, or a castle?"
Dave snorts as he gets out of the car. "Castles are prettier. This is a pile of giant pizza boxes, dude." The pile isn't even straight and even, there are corners sticking our everywhere.
Crouched beside him on the cement of the driveway Karkat is still staring up doubtfully.
"Besides it's not that big, just kinda sprawly."
"There's a tower."
"It's an observatory!" Roxy calls out from the other side of the little bridge, and waves. Dave vaguely wonders how she heard them so well, with the little running stream between them and the waterfall just behind the corner where she's standing, but he sticks his hands in his pockets and goes.
"Oh, an observatory!" Karkat replies, sarcastic, as he makes his dubious, cautious way across. "Whew. Totally different!"
Roxy snickers in her hand. Karkat stalks along, annoyed and making damn sure, Dave notices, to walk in the exact middle of the not-so-narrow bridge. Pff.
Yeah, okay, the railing is a single bar of metal that stands waist-high on Dave, which means it's useless to him as protection against falls, and probably the iron content itches at him a bit.
"Uh, you're okay with running water, right?" he thinks to check once they're about halfway through. Usually it's the more vampiric types that'll have issues with crossing those, and he doesn't think Karkat fits the criteria, but hey, what does he know about Blood types.
Karkat stares deadpan at him for a few seconds, and then goes, "You're aware the only reason I don't trip you overboard is you're carrying my cell phone, right?"
Yeah right. Dave doesn't mention the contract though.
Roxy hugs him when he gets to her, hanging from his neck until he goes oof, and then falls into a crouch and grins right into Karkat's face, arms open, fingers wriggling. "Hug?"
"Does 'pincushion' mean anything to you?"
"Aw, we could be careful."
"No."
Dave lets them bicker as he ambles around the corner of the house toward the front door. He spends a couple of seconds watching the scenery -- the way the forest unrolls under them past the waterfall is always pretty nice, but he has photos of it enough to bury someone with, even in today's pretty nice spring weather.
He pushes the door open and walks in. "Hi, aunty--"
A slash of bright blade. He ducks, barely, rolls forward into the house instead of back (behind him there's only the drop and the waterfall; bad plan.)
There's a katana abandoned on the stairs, right besides Rose who's sitting on the marble steps knees together, chin in her hands. He rushes for it, ducking on instinct another swipe that cuts the air next to his arm.
And then red erupts violently behind him.
Something crumbles, hits the floor. He fetches up against the steps, ass bruised from turning even as he grabbed for the sword and tripping, in time to see part of the sleeve of Zazzerpan the Learned fall to the floor in pieces, the resulting rubble rolling around Bro's feet.
Karkat is bristling with thorns of blood; his teeth are bared to the gums. Holy fucking shit --
Dave yells "No!" too late; the attack is already thrown, fast as blinking.
Bro disappears; reappears on the stairs behind Rose. Lil Cal is sitting on his shoulder.
"Karkat, stop, what the fuck!"
Bristling all over, Karkat goes statue-still in the doorstep. Behind him Roxy is staring with one hand on her mouth, the other one on where she's not carrying her gun today.
There was a moment where vision persistence meant Bro's afterimage was speared right through the sternum. Dave's heart is still running kind of fast about it.
He gets up, legs a bit shaky. Rose stays seated.
"I wasn't trying to hurt him, Karkat," Bro says, oddly quiet and nice about it. "It's just something we do for training. Family tradition, yeah? Cal's under orders to get him out of the way if he can't."
... Cal would? Wow, that's. Huh. A pretty nice chunk of "don't think about the implications Bro was a great Bro okay shut up" of his childhood made baseless, actually. (Son of a bitch could have told him!)
--
Covalent 'verse, pesterlog between John and Karkat about blackrom and body dysphoria
--
EB: so... i hear you're back with gamzee? seriously???
CG: OH, *YOU* WANT TO HAVE THIS CONVERSATION. YOU, WHO ARE OBVIOUSLY A CONNOISSEUR IN ALL MATTERS PERTAINING TO TROLLHOOD AND MOIRALLEGIANCE. WHO AM I TO DISAPPOINT!
CG: SO, I HEAR YOU’RE WITH *VRISKA*? SERIOUSLY???
EB: ...
EB: on second thought, let's talk about movies.
CG: YEAH, WE MIGHT ACCIDENTALLY FALL ON EACH OTHER ALL CLAWS OUT OTHERWISE, AND THEN IT'LL BE HELL HAVING TO MAKE OUT.
CG: MAKE UP.
CG: I MEANT MAKE UP. FUCK. TYPO. HAHA.
EB: dot dot dot dot dot, karkat
EB: DOT DOT DOT even.
CG: GROAN.
CG: I AM ATTEMPTING TO TELL YOU WHERE TO PUT YOUR DOTS IN A WAY THAT WON'T END EMBARRASSINGLY ONCE AGAIN, AND IT'S NOT WORKING. THE EXTENT OF MY FAILURE IS ABYSMAL.
CG: JUST. PRETEND YOU GOT TOLD, OKAY? AND IT WAS SOMEHOW BOTH SCATHING AND ENTIRELY PLATONIC.
EB: only because you're shame-killing me by proxy, you suave manly man you.
EB: so how about this niklas kayidj dude? awesome, or awesomest? :B
CG: YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT, AND THEN YOU PLAY IT SURPRISED WHEN I END UP HATE-HITTING ON YOU.
CG: I'M STARTING TO SERIOUSLY DOUBT YOUR CANDIDNESS, JOHN CHUCKLEFUCK EGBERT.
EB: groaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.
EB: can we like
EB: stop mentioning it entirely. that'd be swell. poof! out of existence entirely.
EB: karkat?
CG: BE NICE IF LIFE WORKED LIKE THAT, HUH. YOU IGNORE IT, AND IT CONVENIENTLY ERASES ITSELF FOR YOU.
CG: WHAT THE FUCK EVER. YOU KNOW WHAT. FINE.
EB: uh, did i just hurt your feelings here?
CG: WHAT FEELINGS? DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE FEELINGS AT ALL, BUT ESPECIALLY TOWARD YOU? WHO WOULD BE SO RETARDED AS TO IMAGINE THAT?
EB: i just meant ... feelings in general...
CG: HOW CAN I HAVE ANYTHING YOU'RE UNWILLING TO MENTION, WHEN WE ALL KNOW YOUR ACKNOWLEDGEMENT IS THE ONLY THING THAT KEEPS THE UNIVERSE AFLOAT.
EB: um.
CG: WHAT.
CG: DON'T LEAVE ME HANGING NOW. WHAT?
CG: JOHN? DID YOU ACTUALLY WALK OFF HERE?
EB: no! i'm just thinking, okay?
CG: ABOUT?
EB: things. and stuff. mostly stuff.
CG: GNNRH.
EB: hehe.
EB: okay, urr. don't fly off the handle right from the first sentence, okay, let me finish first?
CG: REQUEST PROVISIONALLY GRANTED, BUT I'M EYEING YOUR WINDOW WITH A GIMLET EYE AND READY TO REVOKE IT SHOULD YOU ABUSE IT WITH STUPID.
EB: bluh bluh i am karkat vantas and i never give anyone an inch for i am fearsome and steel-hearted, rawr, rawr.
CG: ARE YOU FINISHED? LOOKS LIKE IT. ANSWER TIME! FUCK YOU.
EB: kaaaaaaaarkat.
CG: OH NO. DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE APPROPRIATE HER QUIRK. I REFUSE.
EB: too late! :p
EB: but ok seriously now. please?
CG: FINE! I'M SITTING ON MY FRONDS STARTING NOW.
EB: ok, thanks.
EB: okay.
EB: i might as well just jump right in, right?
EB: so.
EB: haha, wow, all that answering you're not doing, i guess you're *really* sitting on your hands right now. hehehe.
EB: okay, fine. i'll stop stalling.
EB: or try to. argh.
EB: okay! doing it now.
EB: ... i don't know where to start!
CG: IYHUG40**TUF59&i
EB: ... did you just headbutt your keyboard, buddy.
CG: %M?LN%IJUOIB BHMK§*
EB: i'm taking that as a yes. hehehehehehehehe.
CG: FCJUJCK YUYUGOUYO
EB: i fuck you too, karkat. ;B
CG: HOW IS THIS NOT A BLACK SOLICITATION, YOU FUCKLEMUNCH.
EB: argh! damn you, can't you just stop *PUSHING* for one second in your life???
EB: how about you sit your ass back on your hands right the heck now, okay.
EB: are you doing it yet?
CG: Y
EB: okay, good.
EB: urgh
EB: okay, "i" sentences. right. i can do that.
EB: i feel like you think i think you're gross when i say i don't want to think about
EB: you know
EB: hatemacking on you.
EB: and like i'm saying you're not good enough or something
EB: what i'm saying is i find myself gross
EB: because i'm a human dude who is straight and as a human dude who is straight i don't mack on my bros of the dude persuasion.
EB: or maybe for a joke i guess, not for serious, but it was
EB: hella serious.
EB: hella WAY too serious.
EB: and also not me.
EB: i feel like i'm a werewolf now, karkat.
EB: i have this rabid thing in a corner of my head that wants to savage people i don't know for daring to step into my space (which is now way larger!) and that wants to bite my friends on the mouth until they bleed all tasty!
EB: it's
EB: it's scary as hell, okay?
EB: i don't *get* what troll me wants. dudes and violence?
EB: that's not me. neither one is me.
EB: it's not like i
EB: uh, do you actually still have a crush on me?
EB: like, a real one, i mean, not a little silly one where it's mostly awkward jokes that keep happening and making it more of an awkward thing than it really is?
CG: YOU'D PREFER THAT, I GUESS.
CG: SORRY.
CG: TO BE HONEST...
CG: I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS. COULD BE A LITTLE SILLY CRUSH. BUT IT HAS A SHIT TON OF HORMONES PUSHING BEHIND IT, I CAN'T JUDGE ACCURATELY. IT'S.
CG: YOU'RE HOT, *AND* MY FIRST REAL HATEKISS, AND MY HORMONES ARE PENT UP TO THE TEETH. I DON'T KNOW.
EB: huh.
EB: i guess it's not so bad if we're both confused as hell about it.
CG: MNH.
--
Crash Standing chapter idk
--
Bec tries to turn his head to see what she's doing, and you tug on his ears cautiously, still expecting to be snapped at. You try to hold his muzzle facing forward. Predictably, after trying to shake you off for a couple of seconds, he zaps out from Harley's cowgirl grip and reappears a few steps to the side.
"Argh. Sorry."
"No, he's been doing that all morning. Annoying!"
"You should bribe him with treats."
"Like he can't zap them out of my hand if he wants them!"
You watch uselessly as she corrals the beast again before you approach and attempt pettins again, which you kind of suck at. Who knows where he's been, right. Ew. And you have white fur all over your black shirt now, that shit floats or something. You wouldn't be surprised if he deliberately teleported it on people. Asshole.
"So what's the plan for today?" Jade asks you as she tickles her way up her dog's flank.
"Well, laundry first." You shrug. "Then I don't know. Dave has John this afternoon."
She snorts. "Do you dorks trade off custody or what?"
Cough cough. "What? That'd be silly. Dave just mentioned it this morning in the chat is all." Well actually in a private side-chat but. "Anyway it makes sense to coordinate, I mean, we wouldn't want John to have to juggle his wife and his mistress on his own, he'd drop one of us or probably even both."
"Pffff."
You pout a bit.
Bec is licking your hand. Eugh. Gross. At least it's distracting him from the sneaky iodining going on at his shoulder, so you suffer through it.
"I was thinking about hanging out with Karkat maybe. I dunno."
The way she grins up at you, you don't understand.
Well, you kind of do but you wish you didn't. It's a shipping smile.
"Like a date?"
"No! Just like hanging out while he does his own chores, I dunno. And annoying him and stuff." You wish you could scratch the back of your neck, but your hand is all drooly. "And okay maybe sneaking in some ninja making out. If we can. But I dunno, he's fun to hang out with."
Okay, now she's looking at you like you're a robot that refuses to work. Okay, why.
"So the plan is to hang out with Karkat... because he's fun to hang out with and you like him, and you want to spend time with him... With an option to perhaps make out... But not like a date."
You glower at her over your shades. You try to look disapproving but you have a feeling you mostly manage pouty.
"Well, okay!" She finishes cleaning up her dog, whose tongue you hold between two fingers (euuugh) and who is trying to lick your palm with the furled tip. "Why isn't it a date?"
You wipe your hand on your shirt pointedly, and then take off your shirt even more pointedly to lob it at the laundry bag.
"Because. Shaddup. Why are you even asking me that, is it even appropriate for an ex to think about?"
"Dunno, but it's kind of sexy, so you bet your tush I'm thinking about it."
You splutter. Damn it, how come she can still ruin you so easily! She's grinning still, dimpling, eyes so green; you feel a little twinge. Yeah, so, you used to be in love with that.
It was pretty nice. You're glad it happened.
--
Vorkosigan/Psychic Wolves: Sequel at Baron Ryoval's (petered out)
--
The point it had all gone to hell, Mark rather thought, was the second Elizaveta recognized Miles.
The scent he'd picked up from her was addled with strange foods, and drugs enough to kill a horse. The appearance was jarringly off-note -- sickly, confused, frail. But the mind?
She'd spent the whole return trip to Jackson's Whole pretending to be Mark's sister; he'd had her nudging her nosy thoughts into his head until he was almost used to it. They'd played the role well enough to fool the casual observer; he'd even learned the best spots to pet her, dutifully.
If he had needed any more proof that he wasn't Miles and would never be, it was this one: the burst of sheer joy he felt the backlash of, and the way the most controlled, most regal semi-sentient creature he had ever met pouncing Miles to the ground to wash his face, whining, tail wagging hard enough to shake her whole frame.
She had tolerated Mark willingly enough, and she trusted that he wanted Miles back, too. But she could feel his soul, and still didn't love him.
Which he was mildly peeved at and a lot more glad about, to be honest, in a rather queasy way. These were definitely not shoes he wanted to fill.
But he'd gone to try to salvage his cover, glib words on his tongue -- "She took such a shine to him, well I guess he is my littermate," and when the windows exploded to let in the troopers he was a sitting duck.
So was Miles, baffled by that huge lump of toothy fur on top of him who all the Duronas had recoiled from.
They didn't stand a chance. Mark fought anyway.
--
He had his first memory cascade in the torture chamber.