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cookingwithpain2010-11-28 08:07 pm
expletives) wrote in cookingwithpain2010-11-28 08:07 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: Not in Blood, But in Bond [Homestuck]
Title: Not in Blood, But in Bond
Fandom: Homestuck
Rating: PG13
Genre: Probably angst.
Summary: After the scratch, Karkat was the first one to get a clear look at the demon. That doesn't necessarily mean he likes what he sees. Just a bunch of introspective bullshit before the death of a dreamself.
Warnings: Swearing. Death. Spoilers for [S] Jade: Enter.
Pairings/Characters: Karkat. The rest of the trolls, in passing. Jack Noir.
Author's Note: Oh god I haven't written legitimate fic in like two years............
Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie, I'm just a hack. The title is a song from a Hans Zimmer orchestral soundtrack, pretty sure it's a throwaway line in the movie.
They had been so close.
He’d been inches away from grabbing the handle, bathed in a welcoming heat and blue light so bright it seared his eyes. They had done their duty, played the game, and now they were going to get their reward. This was it. Everything was going to be perfect.
Inches from grabbing the handle and pulling the door open, and then it had all gone wrong. He remembered a green flash of light, the huge door being cleaved in two faster than the eye could follow. Whatever it was, it blew them backwards, and he felt his sneakers skidding along the stone floor.
After that, it was all blurred. Everything took less than ten seconds, and he could barely split one apart from the other. There was a sudden cacophony, Aradia shouting in that flanged voice of hers and using her powers to throw them all forward onto the transportaliser. The other Aradiabots screeching in rage or anguish as they attacked, or were ripped apart.
And he couldn’t do anything about it.
He was their leader, and he couldn’t do anything.
He remembered screaming until his voice was hoarse – or hoarser than it usually was. Swearing at the top of his lungs that you stupid curlyhorned bitch, you fucker, if you don’t follow us I’ll come back and kill you, just you try me don’t you dare be a selfsacrificing bulgechewer, you can’t play the hero you shitgobbling whore.
The words just kept spilling up while he twisted downwards, screeching madly.
He remembered trying to grab someone, anyone’s hand as Aradia tossed them through the air like ragdolls. He needed to know that they would appear in the same place, that someone else would be there and alright when they got away.
He was their leader, and they needed him. Almost as much as he needed them.
He’d seen them born, he couldn’t see them die.
For a fraction of a second he had a hold of someone’s hand; Gamzee or Terezi or Nepeta or someone, but as the two of them spun towards the portal he felt their fingers slip through his.
Then he craned his neck up and realized that he was craning his neck down, that he was being sent flying towards the transportalizer headfirst. The one thing he’d learned was that they needed some form of contact to work – a footstep or a palm against them was needed before they would whisk one away to their given destination.
For the first time in what may have been his life, Karkat Vantas used his head.
Then, he could breathe. The edges of his vision were blurred and his head was pounding, but he could stop screaming impotently and start yelling furiously. They had to make the best of the situation, they would turn this old lab they’d all appeared in (by chance, by luck) into a base of operations. They would get to the bottom of this. If he’d been able to catch his breath, he would have congratulated himself on a fantastic leaderly speech. They were together, except for Aradia, and she would be coming along soon. She had to be. So, maybe they’d be okay.
Or maybe it was just the dizziness, but when he turned away from his monitor to ask (berate) how things were going and saw orange blood splattered across the floor, he’d lose consciousness. And leave his team alone again.
Groggy and frowning, he opened his eyes to a pale world of blue and gold. It was bizarre, unlike anything he'd seen either on Alternia or his Land. And yet, despite it being entirely new, something about it seemed familiar. Seemed right. Like he was always supposed to be here. Like he should have opened his eyes to it an age ago.
Like it was home.
But something about it still seemed off, wrong somehow. It wasn’t just bathed in gold, it was lit by green a fierce green light. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said it was the same green as he’d seen just a few minutes before. When—
When the demon had attacked them. When everything had been ripped away in that one instant. The same light burned his retinas now as it had then. And the same figure stood above him, glowering down.
Green and mutated and crackling with energy, but still innately familiar. He knew the carapaced hand dripping with blood that was being pointed at him. He’d shaken it in a moment of quiet comraderie, and it had dripped with crimson blood then, too. The hand belonged to his brother.
Not in blood, but in bond.
But it couldn’t be him. The demon that took everything away from them couldn’t possibly be the scowling soldier that he’d fought side by side with. They had to just look similar, carry the same posture or snarl the same way. It had to be a coincidence.
But there was only one way to find out.
“Jack?” He whispered. “Jack Noir?”
The winged creature, black as tar, froze for a moment. Then those furious jaws opened just a crack and a hiss reached his ears, low and scratching and laden with rage. Karkat couldn't help but flinch; partly with terror and partly because he knew why the demon had paused. Knew the answer that he was going to get, and that knowledge immobilised him.
“Not anymore.” Jack said. And with that, he reached for Karkat with a bloodstained hand and roared. His world went green, his body consumed by heat and his nose filled with the stench of burning flesh. He had just enough time to realise that that flesh belonged to him – but not enough time to start screaming – before his short dream life was ended.
And the golden moon, the place he belonged, was torn asunder.
Karkat reached consciousness gasping, and barely containing a choked sob. The old cracked tiles of the laboratory were freezing, sapping his warmth out through his worn cotton clothes. The last few days had drained him more than he thought they could: he felt old. He was more than tired, he was exhausted.
And now, he couldn’t even sleep.
Karkat grasped his upper arms and curled his knees up towards his chest. It was going to be a very, very long night.
Fandom: Homestuck
Rating: PG13
Genre: Probably angst.
Summary: After the scratch, Karkat was the first one to get a clear look at the demon. That doesn't necessarily mean he likes what he sees. Just a bunch of introspective bullshit before the death of a dreamself.
Warnings: Swearing. Death. Spoilers for [S] Jade: Enter.
Pairings/Characters: Karkat. The rest of the trolls, in passing. Jack Noir.
Author's Note: Oh god I haven't written legitimate fic in like two years............
Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie, I'm just a hack. The title is a song from a Hans Zimmer orchestral soundtrack, pretty sure it's a throwaway line in the movie.
They had been so close.
He’d been inches away from grabbing the handle, bathed in a welcoming heat and blue light so bright it seared his eyes. They had done their duty, played the game, and now they were going to get their reward. This was it. Everything was going to be perfect.
Inches from grabbing the handle and pulling the door open, and then it had all gone wrong. He remembered a green flash of light, the huge door being cleaved in two faster than the eye could follow. Whatever it was, it blew them backwards, and he felt his sneakers skidding along the stone floor.
After that, it was all blurred. Everything took less than ten seconds, and he could barely split one apart from the other. There was a sudden cacophony, Aradia shouting in that flanged voice of hers and using her powers to throw them all forward onto the transportaliser. The other Aradiabots screeching in rage or anguish as they attacked, or were ripped apart.
And he couldn’t do anything about it.
He was their leader, and he couldn’t do anything.
He remembered screaming until his voice was hoarse – or hoarser than it usually was. Swearing at the top of his lungs that you stupid curlyhorned bitch, you fucker, if you don’t follow us I’ll come back and kill you, just you try me don’t you dare be a selfsacrificing bulgechewer, you can’t play the hero you shitgobbling whore.
The words just kept spilling up while he twisted downwards, screeching madly.
He remembered trying to grab someone, anyone’s hand as Aradia tossed them through the air like ragdolls. He needed to know that they would appear in the same place, that someone else would be there and alright when they got away.
He was their leader, and they needed him. Almost as much as he needed them.
He’d seen them born, he couldn’t see them die.
For a fraction of a second he had a hold of someone’s hand; Gamzee or Terezi or Nepeta or someone, but as the two of them spun towards the portal he felt their fingers slip through his.
Then he craned his neck up and realized that he was craning his neck down, that he was being sent flying towards the transportalizer headfirst. The one thing he’d learned was that they needed some form of contact to work – a footstep or a palm against them was needed before they would whisk one away to their given destination.
For the first time in what may have been his life, Karkat Vantas used his head.
Then, he could breathe. The edges of his vision were blurred and his head was pounding, but he could stop screaming impotently and start yelling furiously. They had to make the best of the situation, they would turn this old lab they’d all appeared in (by chance, by luck) into a base of operations. They would get to the bottom of this. If he’d been able to catch his breath, he would have congratulated himself on a fantastic leaderly speech. They were together, except for Aradia, and she would be coming along soon. She had to be. So, maybe they’d be okay.
Or maybe it was just the dizziness, but when he turned away from his monitor to ask (berate) how things were going and saw orange blood splattered across the floor, he’d lose consciousness. And leave his team alone again.
Groggy and frowning, he opened his eyes to a pale world of blue and gold. It was bizarre, unlike anything he'd seen either on Alternia or his Land. And yet, despite it being entirely new, something about it seemed familiar. Seemed right. Like he was always supposed to be here. Like he should have opened his eyes to it an age ago.
Like it was home.
But something about it still seemed off, wrong somehow. It wasn’t just bathed in gold, it was lit by green a fierce green light. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said it was the same green as he’d seen just a few minutes before. When—
When the demon had attacked them. When everything had been ripped away in that one instant. The same light burned his retinas now as it had then. And the same figure stood above him, glowering down.
Green and mutated and crackling with energy, but still innately familiar. He knew the carapaced hand dripping with blood that was being pointed at him. He’d shaken it in a moment of quiet comraderie, and it had dripped with crimson blood then, too. The hand belonged to his brother.
Not in blood, but in bond.
But it couldn’t be him. The demon that took everything away from them couldn’t possibly be the scowling soldier that he’d fought side by side with. They had to just look similar, carry the same posture or snarl the same way. It had to be a coincidence.
But there was only one way to find out.
“Jack?” He whispered. “Jack Noir?”
The winged creature, black as tar, froze for a moment. Then those furious jaws opened just a crack and a hiss reached his ears, low and scratching and laden with rage. Karkat couldn't help but flinch; partly with terror and partly because he knew why the demon had paused. Knew the answer that he was going to get, and that knowledge immobilised him.
“Not anymore.” Jack said. And with that, he reached for Karkat with a bloodstained hand and roared. His world went green, his body consumed by heat and his nose filled with the stench of burning flesh. He had just enough time to realise that that flesh belonged to him – but not enough time to start screaming – before his short dream life was ended.
And the golden moon, the place he belonged, was torn asunder.
Karkat reached consciousness gasping, and barely containing a choked sob. The old cracked tiles of the laboratory were freezing, sapping his warmth out through his worn cotton clothes. The last few days had drained him more than he thought they could: he felt old. He was more than tired, he was exhausted.
And now, he couldn’t even sleep.
Karkat grasped his upper arms and curled his knees up towards his chest. It was going to be a very, very long night.