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interrogatormentors · 5 years

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Event Six: Golden Infidel

After perigees of trial and error, Eridan finally felt he’d gotten a handle on Head Admin duties. The stress never decreased, and more often than not Eridan found himself reaching for a drink at the end of the day to take the edge off, but having someone at the end of the worknight to talk to helped more than Eridan cared to admit. No matter the time, no matter what far reaches of space the Reichenbach found itself in, TA responded to each of Eridan’s various messages. Eridan had to wonder if TA actually liked talking to him, or if the capital-H-Helmsman was just bored. God, the idea that he may actually have stumbled onto the Imperial Helmsman, a veritable wiggler-tale creature, terrified Eridan to no end.

Still, he’d take support wherever he could get it, and right now he had bigger fish to fry. As Head Admin, he took responsibility for organizing any and all docking requests, maintenance queues, and inventory logging. The task weighing down his shoulders at the moment took the form of a simple email in his account which had exploded into a lurid, glittery graphic whose symbol seared itself into his eyelids.

“By decree of Her Imperial Condescension, Empress of the Alternian Empire, your ship is formally ordered to attend mandatory Fleet Inspection event. Ships of the invited will go through rigorous examination, while crews are encouraged to mingle aboard the HBC Condescension. Coordinates attached. This message designed and approved by the Department of Imperial Public Affairs.”

A computer generated tyrian-pink lipstick kiss signed the bottom of the invite or order or whatever this abomination of color actually was, along with the sign of the Empress herself. Eridan had tried to find an explanation for the sudden Fleet inspection as he scurried over the entire Reichenbach getting everything in order, and found none. Whisperings of rebellion crawled through the empire, but none of the rumors possessed any substance. They never mentioned names, and no descriptions of a certain secret heiress ever reached Eridan. Despite their tempestuous parting, Eridan couldn’t bring himself to look forward to Feferi’s inevitable culling once she finally surfaced.

Rebellions didn’t matter. Trolls didn’t matter. Only the health and safety of the Reichenbach mattered, and Eridan finally managed to get everything in its proper place by the time of the inspection. Even with the stress of the event, perhaps he could even make some connections aboard the HBC Condescension to make his life easier.

Two hours into the event, and Eridan had spoken to approximately two trolls, who spoke to him more out of a respect to his caste than to his actual position. This fact insulted him more than anything, considering how much time he’d spent taming his hair back and moisturizing. “So you weren’t expectin’ an inspection either, huh?”

The teal next to him wrinkled her nose. “You can say that. My bet’s on the Empress looking for rebellion ties. Why else would she call back an interrogatormentor ship?”

Eridan covered up his apprehension by taking a nervous sip from his drink. He’d noticed the interrogatormentors too-- a cerulean and an enormous seadweller cutting their way through the crowd in silent tandem. “Any ships in range got called back. They ain’t special.” His eyes met the cerulean’s, and his acidic digestive pouch twisted up in six different knots. “You think they’re lookin’ for rebels? In the fleet? Maybe you got a few flirtin’ with the idea in wigglerhood, but they’d be stupid to think rebels actually care about anybody past Ascension.” His lip twisted up into a half-snarl before he schooled his face back.

The teal laughed. “I like you. It’s too bad that naivety’s going to get slammed right out of you. What’d you say your name was?”

Eridan’s eyes hadn’t left the pair of interrogatormentors, who’d started to move towards them as casually as two sharks circling a baby dolphin. “I’m gonna get some air,” he said, ignoring the other troll’s derisive remark about recycled ship air.

The invitation to mingle aboard the Empress’ Imperial Battleship hadn’t explicitly forbidden wandering around, but Eridan couldn’t help but check over his shoulder every few seconds all the same. The interrogatormentors hadn’t followed him out either. Eridan tried to reassure himself that he needn’t worry about them. He had nothing to hide. Any ties to a rebellion now had severed themselves sweeps ago, and he harbored no treasonous leanings now. If they asked him anything, he could say with confidence he didn’t know what the rebellion was planning or who led the charge. Feferi’s name didn’t need to come up. So why did he feel so terrified of the prospect of investigation?

Eridan didn’t meet any other trolls as he wandered further and further, the walls losing their ornamental gilding and becoming more utilitarian as he walked on. The HBC Condescension had started out as nothing more than a personal cruiser according to legends, building itself up into elaborate palace halls around the ancient helmsman at the core.

Eridan jumped as he heard something up ahead of him, fins swiveling in an attempt to pinpoint the noise. He crept around the corner, still holding his drink glass in a shaking hand. It sounded like someone spoke off in the distance, a drone that almost held a melody in words he couldn’t quite parse. As Eridan walked onward, the sound became more distinct but no less identifiable as actual words. Eridan’s brow furrowed as he heard a word he almost understood, until it clicked.

As a devotee to history, especially military tactics, Eridan had amassed more than his fair share of old books and scrolls. At one point, Alternia had had two main languages, High and Low, with the Low comprised of dozens of lowblooded tongues all mashed together in the enslaved warm population. Over time High had become Common, with only a few dialects surviving while Low had faded away with time. Eridan had only seen Old Low Alternian written down once, in an ancient tome bound in clawbeast skin that he still hadn’t fully translated by the time he joined the Fleet. But he knew those words, written down in a column of shaky letters in a section of heretical hymns, although he’d never imagined he’d hear them sung aloud.

“He carries all our pain And one day his strife is forgotten However, we are forgiven.”

Eridan knew at this point, he’d gone too far into the ship. If someone spotted him at this point, he’d earn a trip to the interrogatormentor’s brig regardless of rebel ties, and yet he found himself entranced as he kept going. It took him time to translate the words in his head, but the process made itself easier as the disembodied singer repeated the droning mantra like a prayer, over and over. Eridan closed his eyes as he walked, picturing the words in front of his head, sounding them out and pairing them with the sounds he heard.

“Our kin are separated by color of blood. We are without love or virtue. However, we are forgiven.”

Eridan opened his eyes just in time to stop in front of a door, its frame reinforced in the characteristic manner of a helmsblock to seal moisture in to preserve biowires and living tissue. Eridan swallowed hard, grip tightening so hard on his glass he heard the glass creak. All highblood dinnerware needed reinforcement, but his apprehension definitely put the construction to the test. Despite every instinct screaming at Eridan to back away, to walk right back to the gathering of disgruntled ship captains and crew, Eridan placed his palm on the door’s scanner. The door opened.

The smell hit Eridan first, rotting flesh and damp that nearly had him retching as he looked up at the tangle of wires and remnant of troll strung up in the helming harness. The source of the song came from above, speakers connecting the Helmsman to the ship. Eridan couldn’t find a sign of life in the old psion’s face, silver-streaked hair hanging over his red and blue eyes glazed over like a corpse. Eridan wondered if the battery even had arms and legs at this point, considering the black, necrotic tissue creeping down from the forearms completely hidden in a snarl of devouring biowires.

As Eridan stood there, transfixed in horror and disgust, the speakers’ volume started to dim. The Helmsman stirred, head slowly rising from its slumped position as his lips began to sound out silent syllables. Over the next few seconds he managed to speak up, the speakers going silent as the Helmsman took over the song with a voice like shards of glass scraping up against each other. The psion blinked, first with his blue eye and then his right, and it took a few tries to blink moisture into his eyes like a normal troll. He stopped singing, and spoke.

“You took your time, Eridan.” The Helmsman took a heaving breath, and Eridan swore he could hear the creaking of his lungs. “Ah, I forgot how much I hate this meat sack.”

Eridan set down his glass on a console, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. Despite the smell and the disgusting sight, he felt a twinge of something akin to pity in the back of his head. This really was the troll he’d played poker with and talked to for these past few perigees. “You were expectin’ me? Surprised you got two pan-cells to scrape together, lookin’ like that.”

The Helmsman laughed, a horrific grating sound that trailed off into wet coughs. “As am I,” he said, choking a bit. Yellow blood dribbled down his chin, and a biowire snaked across his face to clear it. “I asked for you. It was an idle request, but the Empress continues to surprise me in her benevolence.”

Eridan squinted at the Helmsman. “Seems like the most benevolent thin’ for you is a funeral pyre. Why’d you wanna see me?”

The Helmsman closed his eyes. “I do not want to die,” he said, and something about the strained tone to his voice didn’t ring as true. “I get to see the stars. I have been blessed with eternity and power beyond comprehension. But it is lonely, here. Speaking to someone, to you, has reminded me of this.”

Eridan felt his hand lifting outside his control, until he made contact with the decrepit troll’s cheek with a damp pap. He rotated his hand before the gesture could get misconstrued, grasping the old troll’s jaw as he looked him over. The Helmsman’s skin felt like damp sandpaper, threatening to flake off and peel away at any moment. “Eugh. I mean, I ain’t anythin’ special, but if you’re lonely I could stick around for a bit. I don’t think anyone’s gonna miss me for a bit. What was that song you were singin’ about, anyways?”

The Helmsman managed to open his eyes again, lips parting to speak. He looked behind Eridan’s shoulder, and his eyes went round just in time for someone else to announce themselves.

“Singing for your new buoy-toy already, battery?” The voice sent chills down Eridan’s spine, and he stayed frozen with his hand on the Helmsman’s face. “Hope you don’t mind bein’ an object lesson, guppy.”

A cool hand touched down on Eridan’s shoulder, and he glanced off to the side just long enough to see long, tyrian-painted nails that popped against the myriad of golden rings adorning the hand of none other than the Empress herself. He tried to come up with an explanation, a plea, anything, but gasped instead as the prongs of a golden trident pierced through him. An instinctive shriek of pain caught in his throat, his entire being paralyzed by pain he’d never experienced before.

He choked on his own blood as the trident lifted, sweeping him off his feet and tearing through his gut as the Empress lifted him with ease. As his vision went black Eridan remembered hunting freshwater shallows with Feferi, pulling crayfish from their murky dens and impaling them on his fingers. He’d watched them squirm, antennae wriggling and legs kicking as if they had any hope of surviving before popping them into his mouth and crunching through their chitinous shells with his teeth. Eridan’s right leg spasmed, kicking out once, and he saw nothing more.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #interrogatormentors #eridan #homestuck au #illustrated story #fic #the psiioniic #the helmsman #stop having two fucking titles motherglubber #her imperial condescension #the empress #you too no one is free from sin #anyways go listen to iron infidel #its good tunes #interrogatormentors event

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fandom-addicts-yeah · 6 years

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Could we have an romantic Eridan X Mermaid! Reader Fic, Where Eridan is at a beach (swimming, sunbathing, whatever the heck) and he sees the reader, sunbathing on a rock formation? Maybe the reader not only has a fish tail, but has another fish like feature as well, like prettyful fins for ears or something like that~

That’s an interesting idea

Well first let’s go through the basics:

Y/N - your name

F/C- favorite color

H/C- hair color

H/L- hair length

Also keep in mind that it contains a few curse words and I will also change the point of view, I hope you like it!

________________________________

Eridan’s POV

I am dragged at a beach bymy friend Feferi, in all honesty I don’t want to be here. People are too loud,the sun is burning my skin and the water is fucking cold. Fef on the other handis really excited about it ‘Oh c’mon, Eridan, loosen up, it’s not thatbad! I’m always having fun at the beach! You can have fun too!’ she said with ahappy, sort of stupid, smile on her face. ‘I highly doubt it, Fef! There’snothing here that I might possibly like!’ I am very skeptical about the wholesituation, she invited me at the beach before, I don’t understand why I agreedthis time, I have a really bad feeling when I’m around the ocean, even thoughI’m a good swimmer. ‘Whatever, Eridan, just get in the damnwater!’. ‘Fiiiine!’

I got in the water, but I’mstill not moving ‘Eridan, what are you doing? Start swimmingalready.’ ‘No wway Fef, I’m in the wwater but I wwon’t swwimm!’ ‘Ohreally?’. Before I could respond with anything, she dived under water anddragged me by the foot with her. I look around and I see her holding herbreath, looking like she wanted to giggle. I glare at her and start moving inthe direction of the surface, since she dragged me pretty far under water. Iwas close but at that moment I saw something moving in the corner of my eye. I lookedback but Feferi wasn’t there, she was already at the surface. The motion kepton happening around me, the figure swimming like they had superpowers. Idecided to follow it.

After a few minutes Ifollowed the figure to the surface. I could still see the beach from where Iwas so I wasn’t exactly in danger. I looked around then I saw a pretty bigrock, and someone seemed to be sitting on it? I got closer to the rock and thenI saw them. They had a fish like long (F/C) tail and (H/L) (H/C)hair. But what I immediately noticed for some reason were their fins, that wereplaced instead of ears and were tinted a little (F/C), like their whole body.

Reader POV

The warm breeze is touching mycold, wet skin nicely. After I had to run away from those humans I needed abreak, I mean, I was almost noticed, lucky for me I have the mermaid powers.Unfortunately, I detected someone swimming in my direction. As quick as Icould, I jumped off the rock and hid behind it.

The figure keeps gettingcloser, until I can see him clearly, a human. I stare at him in awe. I’vewatched humans for years, they seem fascinating, but I’ve never seen one soclose to me. I wanted to communicate with him, but unfortunately I realized hewas struggling to hold his breath. Being truly aware of the danger that I’mputting my species in, I still grabbed his hand and dragged him to the surface.

Once we reached thesurface, he caught his breath, then looked at me with a shocked and mesmerizedexpression that made me slightly giggle. Looking straight into his eyes, Iopened my mouth to say something but I was cut off by him saying ‘Y-YOU’REREAL AND… and you’re gorgeous’ the compliment flattered me, but I know forsure that I have to leave, we are not allowed to see each other nor speak witheach other in any way, we’ve hiding for thousands of years, and in a fewminutes, I managed to ruin that.

Trying not to be rude, Ikindly smiled then tried to leave. He noticed my movements and realized thatI’m trying to leave, so he grabbed my upper arm and said ‘wwait, I wwantto talk wwith you more. I can’t believe you’re real! Wwait, can you talk?’. Hewanted to keep asking questions, but I raised my hand in front of him to shuthim up, then said ‘y-yes I can talk’ my voice was a little rusty, I’m usedto talking underwater, but not on the surface ‘I’m (Y/N). And who mightyou be, human?’. I looked in his purple-ish eyes waiting for an answer. Herealized he was sort of staring so he shook his head and spoke ‘I’m Eridan.’he said that so softly that it was hard to hear. Silence followed, and I usedit to take a closer look at him. He doesn’t have fins nor a tail. He has two…feet? I believe human call them. I wonder how can humans swim with them, theyare not made for that, but most humans still weren’t drowning.

After a while of staring athim I looked straight at his face and said ‘I think we should go sit onthe rock, you’re a human after all, and I honestly don’t want you to diebecause of me.’ He didn’t respond but he nodded and followed me to the rock. Weboth sat there. I looked at the beach, it was visible from that point. I deeplysighed then said to him ‘So you live there huh?’ He looked at me andmurmured a ‘yes’ under his breath. ‘Is it nice? I mean to me it lookslike you have more freedom than I do.’ He looked at me then said with aconfused and at the same time amused face ‘More freedom? The ocean is wwaybigger than the land. You havve more to explore than wwe do.’ Thinking aboutit, he’s right, the ocean is way bigger than the land, but mermaids have a lotof rules that should be followed, and right now, I was breaking at least ten.My face must have showed concern for a second there without me realizing, ‘causehe looked at me with a soft, wandering expression.

I don’t want theconversation to be awkward so I guess it’s time to fix it.’So, you can swimwith your “feet” I see. I’m surprised. They obviously not made forswimming.’ He looked at me with… actually glared at me, in a sort of way thatactually showed a little bit of pride ‘Maybe they are not made forswwimming, but they are still functional. But not all human can swwimm, I canbecause I’m awwesome’. That statement made me laugh a little, thing thatutterly irritated him. ‘Wwhat the fuck are you laughingat?!’ ‘Nothing, nothing. You just seem to be very very confident’. At thataffirmation his expression softened and he sighed ‘I don’t knoww ifconfidence is the right wword, but thank you for the… compliment?’. Thatintrigued me for some reason, I wanted to know more about this human, maybe hehad the same struggles like me, and maybe he is ignored and isolated from hissociety because of his dreams as well. I looked at him and said softly ‘I knowwe just met and all, but you can talk to me, I mean I don’t have anyone to tellanything to, so we might as well keep each other’s company while we are here.’He looked at me and sort of smiled but for a quick second.

~~~~~Time skip~~~~~

Reader POV

We talked ‘till the sun wentdown completely. I found out about his friends that usually called him annoyingand ignore him, about the fact that he’s lonely even though he tried to getcloser to people, about how he can be temperamental at times. Over all, heseemed like a nice human, the nicest one by far. He was sort of kind with me,we shared the same problems and issues, and he also looked good.

Unfortunately for both ofus, it was time for him to leave so I did what I thought was best, consideringthe fact that I might never see him again, thought that made me really sad. Helooked at me then said ‘I’m really sorry but I have to go. I honestlywwish I could stay. You truly understand me but…’ I motioned for him to stoprambling and look at me ‘ I understand, we technically aren’t even allowedto talk, so you don’t have to excuse yourself. Just promise me two things’ henodded so I went on ‘one, don’t tell anyone about our existence’ he noddedagain ‘and two… n-never forget me, cause I will never forget you…’ andwith that, without giving him time to respond I softly kissed his cheek andjumped in the water, leaving a blushing Eridan behind.

__________________________

1435 words

I hope you enjoyed it! :P

~ Mod Ale

#homestuck #hiveswap #eridan #eridan ampora #eridan ampora x reader #imagine #mermaid au #ask #anon #fanfiction

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twilightsporklez · 4 years

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For Want of a Nail, the Kin was Lost

Exactly two weeks ago, the world had entered the Darkest Timeline. Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck, had died from a heart attack at the ripe old age of sixty nine, and, as he had passed to the underworld, his creations had passed from the underworld to Earth. The constellations glittering in the sky, once beacons of hope, had loosened their chains and come down in order to destroy the world. The twelve trolls of Homestuck were alive, and they wanted humanity dead.

Story continued under the cut (cw: violence, death, gore)

Using their god-like powers, they first targeted power plants and the homes of world leaders. Then they came for the fans. They recruited readers of Homestuck in order to help them destroy Earth. Every one of them had agreed and had immediately sworn their loyalty.

Along with their rampages came another change. Everyone, overnight, had had their appearance changed to match that of their assigned zodiac kin. Deku, as far as he could tell, was a Vriska. He was pretty sure that his zodiac sign was Cancer, but maybe his birthday was on an edge day.

Deku had spent the first week hiding in his basement reading the entirety of Homestuck. His house had then been burned down by a rampant Sollux. Most of the city had been, actually. The only safe spots now were shelters with closely guarded locations.

He had spent the past few days wandering through the ravaged streets, searching for the location to a safehouse. The heat of the day beat down heavy against his cloak, but he dare not take it off in fear of burning his gray skin. According to a nearby spray-painted billboard, a brave Tavros had set up shop inside the EBGames he was standing in front of.

The surface was mostly bare during the day, but Deku was still cautious. He did a quick search of the surrounding parking lot before entering the lobby.

The doorbell chimed as he wiggled his way in. Deku pulled down his hood and waved at the Tavros.

"What are you in for today?" The Tavros wasn’t in character. Phew. Only those who had had quirks beforehand spoke with their typing quirk.

"Some food and a safe house, ideally." Deku turned and scanned the shelf that had used to house Nintendo games. It had a couple copies of the physical editions of Homestuck, along with a few handbooks for ‘your new troll body and you’. Deku sighed at the sight of them.

He heard a few thumps and some swearing, and turned around to find the Tavros bumping his wide horns against the door-frame of the back room. Ouch. Deku feigned interest in the handbooks to help the guy’s self esteem.

Along with the appearance and typing quirk of your assigned kin, you also gained their powers. Deku had been ecstatic at the news, but then, as always, inevitably disappointed, as it turned out that it only replaced your old quirk instead of fitting you with a new one. He was still powerless in a society filled with superheroes. Er, trolls. Quirk-having trolls were indistinguishable from the originals in every way other than their height, lack of limited immortality, attitude, and blood. Thankfully, everyone had kept their blood.

Tavros, having managed to not hit his horns this time, came back into the room carrying a couple loaves of bread and a map. "That'll be seventy dollars."

Shit. He didn't have any money. He didn't have any powers, either. The only thing Deku had, aside from his pure charisma and perceptiveness, was a bunch of weird paper that he had stolen while committing tax fraud. Wait. That's money. Deku paid quietly for the goods and then sat on the floor and took a bite of his spoils. Judging from the map, the safe house was three or four blocks away and pretty well guarded.

By the time he was finished memorizing the route, he had hungrily wolfed down an entire loaf of Wonder bread without noticing. Grabbing the remaining two loaves, he rolled up the map, pulled his faded orange hood back up, and left.

The constant surveillance of his surroundings turned a five minute walk into twenty, but it paid dividends. The original route shown on the map was crawling with Eridans looking for someone to take out their anger out on.

Happy with his avoidance of a close call, Deku examined his surroundings. The outside of the base was relatively hidden. It resembled a normal, beaten-up subway entrance. However, the bottom of the stairway was blocked off with metal and presumably, bullet proof glass with an open hole a the bottom, like at the movie theatres, or maybe a dentist. What were dentists hiding from? He would need to think about this immediately. He had time: there was a sign about someone being "OUT FOR LUNCH."

Just then, his phone went off. Labelled as the caller: "(Vriska)." Not one for dramatic pauses, Deku answered immediately.

The voice sounded female. It was hard to tell, because all they were saying was ‘doot’ over and over to the tune of some song that Deku didn't know. The audio quality was pretty bad too, like if someone made a SBAHJ podcast and then made it shittier. He hung up.

It was another ten minutes before someone came out. The Terezi had her hair cut short, and her left horn was chipped. She sat down in a chair in the booth and waved.

"N4M3??" Like eighty percent of the population, she had a quirk.

"Previously Izuku Midoriya. Currently assigned Vriska. Forgive me if I don't remove the hood."

"USU4LLY W3 CH3CK TH3 BLOOD OF SOM3ON3 B3FOR3 L3TT1NG TH3M 1N TO S33 TH3 BOSS BUT 1N YOUR C4S3 1T SHOULDNT M4TT3R."

Deku found that unsettling, but free room and board is free room and board, so he didn't question it. Terezi leaned back in her chair and slapped a button on the wall. The window between them swung open and Deku jumped back to avoid it.

“COM3 ON 1N.” Terezi moved her chair over to the side, and Deku saw that the interior was much larger than he had thought. It was a little bigger than a supply closet, and had pictures of various Homestuck characters plastered along the walls.

The space felt personal, so Deku didn’t lag behind when Terezi left down a hallway to the side.

After a short walk, the hallway opened up into an abandoned underground parking garage. The sturdy concrete walls were covered in graffiti, and most of the cars had doors busted open. Trolls from most of the hemospectrum were lazing around, talking and sleeping. All of them except for Cerulean bloods.

Maybe he should get to know the person—troll—currently leading him away from any witnesses.

Start simple. “Are Terezi’s powers any fun to use? I never had a quirk, so I’ll never get to experiment with mind-”

“1 DONT H4V3 4 QU1RK.”

“You don’t? Then why the typing quirk?” He would never have thought he would be having this kind of conversation.

“1 US3D TO K1N T3R3Z1. 1M V3RY S3NS1T1V3 4BOUT 1T.”

“I understand.” Deku did not understand, but he did not doubt for a moment that the 5’1” Terezi beside him could kill him instantly, even without a quirk.

Looping around cars, Terezi led him into another hallway, barking at some of the other trolls to keep it down during sleeping hours. They passed a few kitchens and supply closets, until winding up at an oak door.

"PL34S3 CLOS3 TH3 DOOR B3FOR3 YOU ST4RT BL33DING."

Deku hoped that she was joking. He took a breath in and opened the door.

An older-looking troll with long, tangled black hair sat in front of him. She wore a faded yellow robe with a sun poorly embroidered on it. Her tired face glowed a soft blue, and it scrunched up in seething hatred once all eight of her eyes saw who—what—he was.

Vriska shot her hand out towards him. Dice spilled out, zapping in the air and glowing brightly. "No dou8les!!!!!!!!!"

Deku pulled his hood on and ducked, narrowly avoiding certain death. "Wait!” Reminded of his conversation from earlier, he decided to lie. “I'm not a Vriska,” he said. "I'm a (Vriska). Completely different."

Vriska motioned for him to sit down. "Let's talk. And close the door 8ehind you."

It had been a few weeks since Deku had joined the underground group. He was sitting with the Terezi and Vriska he had met on the first day, conversing about possible long-term solutions to food shortages. It was difficult because they kept getting distracted and making out instead of getting work done.

“If we were to grow our own food above ground, we’d run the risk of being—er, 8eing tracked-” Deku cut himself off. A nearby Karkat had a knife in his hand. “Did you guys check everyone’s blood? I think that Karkat is about to kill someone.”

They stopped kissing and looked over to where Deku was pointing. Vriska reached into her bag and started rummaging through it. “First of all, not a dude. Second of all, o8viously I checked them all.”

Vriska pulled out a handful of dice and a tube of red chap-stick. Terezi gratefully took the chap-stick, biting into it like a Popsicle. They both stood up.

“WH4T 4R3 YOU DO1NG?” asked Terezi.

The Karkat smiled. “NOTHING.” He proceeded to walk over to a sleeping Sollux and pat him on the head.

“I have a new way to solve our food shortage. Reduce damand.” Vriska flung out her dice towards the red-tinged troll. They flashed and spun, until hitting the ground to reveal the damage count. Because of her luck, it was the maximum possible. Lightning shot out of the die and phased through the Karkat, killing him instantly.

Except, he wasn’t dead. He peeled himself off the pavement and dusted himself off.

Terezi turned towards Deku and Vriska. “OK4Y 1 TH1NK 1V3 FOUND TH3 PROBL3M. K4RK4T H4S MUT4NT BLOOD. TH4T 1S TO S4Y HUM4N BLOOD.”

Karkat nodded, as if to approve the theory. Apparently a blood test doesn't work if the one you're trying to find has freakishly normal human blood.

Vriska facepalmed. “This is so unfair. He never 8ecame a god in the alpha timeline!!!!!!!!”

The floor rumbled softly, and the roof started to crack and splinter. Beams of energy shot through the roof, and a large part of it collapsed. Hundreds of trolls streamed through the hole, carrying weaponry and a thirst for destruction. Homestucks. Did they not realize this conquest would result in the demise of humanity?

Initially filling the area with deafening shouting and pushing, they soon fell silent. A troll in a bright yellow robe floated above them, staring directly at the trio.

“It’s 8eneath me to ask nicely, 8ut please kill each other so that we don’t have to waste time.” She flipped her long black hair as if it were a simple request.

Deku, unsurprisingly, liked being alive. “What happens if we don’t?”

An enthusiastic Nepeta pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

"Calm down. I'll deal with this 8ozo myself." Deku realized that floating above him was Her. The original Vriska.

He was doomed.

Vriska pulled out dice from her pocket and started playing with them in her hand. “I h8 doubles, 8ut I’ll give you one chance at redemption. Prove yourself a real fan and I’ll let you join my army.”

Deku considered his answer carefully. He didn’t have a lot of options. Better to go with something tried and true rather than lose at a Homestuck trivia contest. If it worked once, why not again? "I'm actually the original (Vriska). Don't kill me."

"It seems unlikely. Karkat, test her 8lood."

Okay yeah he was definitely doomed. Why did Vriska have to take basic safety precautions?

Karkat’s knife dripped with the yellow blood of a Sollux, and Deku cringed at the sight. Karkat came close to Deku, and took his arm in one hand. He carefully grazed the knife along Deku’s skin, letting the blood drip out for all to see.

Cerulean blood.

He was safe. But he was (Vriska)... And if he was (Vriska), then who was phone????????

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shadow-wasser · 7 years

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WIP Fic Whenever: The Weakest, Of the Gods

WIP Fic Friday is a place where I will put a ‘quick and dirty’ first draft of either a short story or a chapter from a longer story. This will hopefully encourage me to improve my writing output. I missed last week... oops. This is from the “The Gods Have Horns” setting. Warning: Eye-related horror.

You always thought you were, kind of, the weakest of the gods. Not because Breath is like, a shitty aspect, but more because you never really went that high up the god tiers, and Pages are like, supposed to have further to go, than most.

You don’t mind that much, though. You don’t need lots of flashy powers to enjoy life.

You wander. You fly. You sometimes accidentally run into other gods, or hear them calling your name from afar. You rarely answer them. Generally speaking, other trolls have not been kind to you, and you much prefer the company of beasts. All of you turning into immortals with robes and wings and shiznasty powers has not changed that basic fact.

You don’t hang around the aliens much, either. You might stumble upon some accidentally, if they’re in that span of time between when they start talking, and when they start building cities. But you don’t stick around long. After locals spot you, they tend to say your name, for thousands of years afterward. It’s a little annoying.

So, you find worlds of animals. Worlds upon worlds where only animals walk, where nobody splits the air with speech. You’re not all that lonely. You tell yourself you’re happy.

(You can hear Eridan calling your name sometimes. You don’t ever say his.)

You are reclining under a tree in the moonlight on a vast savannah, listening to chirping night-critters, writing beat poetry, in your head, to their songs. Then you see the lights, moving above.

A spaceship.

You are not afraid, but you are cautious, and disappointed. You’d rather that a star-faring civilization not colonize this world. It’s always a pain, to have to find a new planet to live.

The starship, which is truly enormous, comes to ground, and you know, even before it lands, that it’s not a regular alien ship.

It’s purple, for one, and bedecked in banners and streamers and flags. Those sorts of decorations, you’re pretty sure, don’t usually survive on spaceships. They burn up, or something.

And you recognize the sigil, on the banners. The aspect of Rage.

You haven’t seen Gamzee in, well, probably eons, but you don’t really keep track of time anymore. He stopped calling your name, after only a few years, when you first split off from the rest.

You’re pretty sure, he doesn’t miss you, anymore.

You’re not sure, if you ever missed him.

Aliens are coming out of the spaceship now, opening up the sides. They are all sorts of different aliens, many you’ve never seen before.

The spaceship unfolds like an intricate paper sculpture, inflating into a tremendously giant tent. There’s a carpet rolling out along the ground, and out of the tent steps-

Whoa, he’s huge.

You shouldn’t be surprised. You all can basically look however you want, now, within trollish reason. Like, you can have working legs, when you want, which you usually do. Also, you can look more like an adult, if you want, but you usually don’t like to. You like the way you feel, when you look young.

But Gamzee must be, eight feet tall, at least, not counting the horns. He’s wearing a black and purple vest and a fancy coat, striped pants and heavy boots. You can’t see his face clearly from under your tree, but you’re certain he’s still wearing his subjugglator paint.

You should go greet him, right? Maybe you can convince him to leave this planet alone, for whatever it is he’s doing. But he’s all dressed up and you’re basically just wearing your godhood. You quickly try to make yourself presentable, dredging an old hat with a feather in it out of your sylladex, even though the green clashes. You wish you had some real pants.

You feel kind of silly, for being nervous. It’s just, Gamzee, right?

Gamzee is talking with one of the aliens, but he looks up as you approach. And yes, it’s still Gamzee, he still has that lazy, satisfied expression, though his purple eyes have a degree of intensity you don’t remember being there before.

“Tavros,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your horns vibrate. “And there I thought you’d up and died ages ago, brother. Miracle.”

“Uh,” you reply. “No, I’m alive. I’ve been alive, this whole time. I think.”

“None of us had our knowing on about that there thing what you said.”

You feel a little bad, now. You might have told them you were alive, at least. When you speak, your tone is a little defensive. “I’ve been, exploring. And, communing with the animals. It’s peaceful, out here. And no one, judges me.”

Gamzee’s painted brows crease, but then he smiles. “Brother, why don’t you come inside? See my ring?”

“Uh, sure?”

You follow him behind a curtain, and into his ship. Inside it’s purple, and shadowy, and it smells bitter and musky. You can see aliens of various shapes and sizes running around, through curtains and around mirrors. You can hear distant screaming, or maybe it’s laughing? Maybe it’s applause. The air is full of smoke. By the time Gamzee and you reach your destination, your eyes are watering.

It’s the very top of the tent, a wide balcony from which Gamzee can look over the rings being set up, and the savannah stretching to the horizon.

There’s an alien there, its face painted in black and white, and Gamzee waves a hand at it. “fuck off.”

It fucks off.

Gamzee settles himself in a chair that looks more like a throne, and you are amazed at how easily he fits there, fits here, now naturally he seems to take up divinity. Not a hint of uncertainty, not a pause of hesitation. Every inch a god.

You’re almost envious.

“Lots to do here, brother,” he says. “We meet in a time of miracle and wonder.”

“What are you here to do?” you ask.

“Spread the mirthful word, my brother. Ain’t been a whole planet devoted to the Carnival, not yet.” He smiles lazily, and maybe there are a few more teeth in the grin, this time. “High time for there to getting been done.”

“The whole planet?” You can’t keep the surprise from your voice. “Not just, like, one city?”

“Naw, brother, got to think bigger than that. Nothing but tents and rings and sideshows and freaks, far as your motherfucking ganderbulbs can see and then more.” Gamzee gets up from the throne and walks up to the edge of the balcony, resting his arms on the railing. Then, he turns.

“But enough all and about me, my invertebro! What is all up and happening with you?”

“Gamzee, I… That’s all, very nice, and all, but I’m not sure that’s all, a good idea? Turning the planet, into one big, um, circus?”

Gamzee frowns, and, for a moment, narrows his eyes at you. You take a step back.

Then, he’s smiling again. “Brother I know we ain’t got our squawk on in millions of sweeps and all, so you don’t got it in your pan that I got my motherfucking understand on what all this is about you dig?”

“W-what?”

“Rage, brother. You even know what Rage is all about?”

“Not, um. Really. I mean, I know it means, being angry, but it’s probably more than that, because Breath is about more than, you know, breathing.”

“What’s Breath about?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I want you to get me all up in the schoolfeeding, Tavbro. What’s your motherfucking aspect all getting itself about?”

Breath… you know what it is. You know it in your core, like the sigil has been branded into your thinkpan, which is probably has, now that you think of it. Breath is freedom. Unfetteredness. The feeling of responsibilities being shed, of being light as air, of being held accountable for nothing.

You think you’ve done a pretty good job of being Breath.

“Freedom,” you say, eventually, uncertainly. “Breath is freedom?”

Gamzee laughs. You don’t see what is so funny.

“Aw, brother, I’m all about that too!”

“Huh?”

Gamzee leans forward, and his voice quiets. “Rage, brother. Rage is the hole what’s left when freedom’s gone. Rage is the thing in your thinkpan that makes you stop. Makes you hesitate. And I kill that. I MOTHERFUCKING KILL THAT!”

You jump at the change in volume, then feel immediately sheepish.

“Aw, Tavbro, don’t be all scared. It’s all good and miraculous that every single one of my motherfucking followers has all their Rage gone. Would be a better motherfucking world if everyone just said what’s on their motherfucking mind and did what they motherfucking wanted. Freedom. Brother, don’t you agree?”

You swallow. “Uh, I’m not sure I understand. I thought you were a, Bard? You don’t destroy, directly, right?”

He shakes his head. “Naw, brother. But it goes and shrivels and dies all on its own. Here, I’ll up and show you.”

He turns, and looks out at the savannah. The animals have never seen aliens before. They only look up curiously, don’t run, as Gamzee’s followers set up the circus.

He points. “See that motherfucker over there?” You go up and look. It’s one of Gamzee’s followers, a funny looking red alien with four arms. “He’s been wanting to try something but ain’t letting himself do it. And that ain’t no way to be thinking in my Carnival.”

Gamzee looks at you, and smiles, mouth friendly and eyes hard. “Don’t want none of that in my Carnival, brother.”

The red alien, who had been focused on erecting a large pole, turns to a brown furry alien next to him. And without hesitating a moment, he reaches up and rips out the furry alien’s eye.

And eats it.

You don’t watch the rest.

“I think that’s kind of sick.” you manage to say, eventually. “Did you, make him, do that?”

Gamzee actually looks confused. “It’s freedom, brother. It’s only what he wanted all and up to do, all in real life like.”

He must see the distress in your expression, because he then follows that up with: “We do the same thing, Tavbro.”

“No, I,” you don’t know what to say. He’s going to make your planet (you can’t help but think of it as yours), your whole planet, be like that? Without restraint or empathy or kindness? “I don’t think it’s the same thing at all.”

Gamzee frowns, then just as quickly smiles again. “Sure thing bro. We don’t gotta work together, though it’d all make me as happy as motherfuck if we up and did.”

He turns to look at the view again. “You can still up and stay if you wanna get your watch on, my brother. Or go on chilling with the birds and bees if that’s what speaks to you and all.”

“Gamzee,” you say, after a moment. “Can you, um. Use a different planet, maybe? I kind of, like this one?”

He looks at you, sidelong, and says nothing.

“Like, I like it, how it is? Not made into… a carnival…” You trail off.

“This is a good planet for a Carnival, bro. Not like you were up and using it.”

“Gamzee, don’t- I was kind of, living here-”

“IT’S NOT LIKE YOU WROTE YOUR MOTHERFUCKING NAME ON IT!”

Gamzee whirls, and his appearance is transformed. His fangs are bared, expression furious, and the scleras of his eyes look more orange than yellow.

“Tavbro, you ran, you can’t claim nothing. NOT MOTHERFUCKING NOTHING. Ain’t even acting a real god, just running around playing like you’re STILL A MOTHERFUCKING KID. This planet is MOTHERFUCKING MINE, brother. Can’t claim NOTHING. And I. Am going. TO DESTROY THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANET. And there ain’t nothing you’re gonna do about it, are you?”

You sit down. Hard. You are sitting in a four-wheel device. You didn’t realize you still had one. You’re not sure if you can move your legs, actually. Or feel them.

“Didn’t motherfucking think so.”

Gamzee turns, to look back at the Carnival. And you…

You can feel it. The animals. Ripping into each other. Killing mates, killing young, predators going mad, fear-aggression spiking into suicidal terror…

He’s wiping out the whole planet.

Your planet.

By now, your communing abilities are highly developed. You’re more powerful than the Summoner, more powerful than any mortal troll could ever have been.

But when you reach out to get the animals to stop, you can’t. Divine power trumps psionics, you guess.

You have divine power. You are the Page of Breath. The Page to Breath. But if this is freedom… what does Breath want from you? You wish you were a Seer.

But you’re no Seer. Barely even a Page. You’re sitting there in your chair like a fool. The clown made a fool of you.

For a moment, you think you might hate him. Then you realize, no, you just want to be free of him. You just want-

And that’s when you get it. You really, actually get it.

“Gamzee,” you say slowly. “I think, there might be, two kinds of freedom.”

“What the motherfuck are you talking about?” he rumbles.

“Yeah, there is… there is freedom to. That’s your kind of freedom. But I think my kind of freedom is freedom from. Which is different. So that’s, I think, what I’m going to do.”

You Breathe.

And they are free.

All of them. The animals, the followers. Free of their burdens. They are free now, of Gamzee. They can do what they want to, really want to, and not just reflexively enact their most base impulses.

You can hear cheering, from below. Or maybe screaming. Maybe applause.

“What the fuck did you do!” roars Gamzee, turning on you.

You stand up. The chair is gone. You do not need to be afraid of him. You are free of your fear.

You spread your wings.

“I think, I’m doing, what I need to do,” you say. “Which is, to say, stop you.”

The wind whistles, and-

------

It is the first time, but not the last, you fight another god openly.

It is the first time, but not the last, you really felt divine.

------

Your planet, at least, died free.

#wip fic #fanfic extra #homestuck #fanfiction #my fic #gamzee #tavros #godstuck

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