I MADE A BLOG TO KEEP UP WITH ALL OF YOUR SHIT. YOU ARE WELCOME. ((Karkat Vantas, 9 sweeps old, post-game, independant roleplay blog.))
-CURRENT STATUS: 6 SWEEPS-
CG: THIS IS FUCKING LAME.
EB: i would have thought you’d like having the house to yourself.
CG: YEAH, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT SO, TOO. I GUESS I’M JUST USED TO THE COMPANY, NOW.
EB: we miss you too, karkat <3
CG: SO ARE YOU AND THE KIDS HAVING FUN?
EB: yeah, they love it here. i wish you could have come.
CG: I WOULD HAVE JUST MADE ALL OF YOU MISERABLE, COMPLAINING ABOUT EVERYTHING. I DON’T MIND STAYING HOME.
CG: SEND ME A NUDE PIC
EB: you send me one, too.
—ectoBiologist has begun a file transfer—
—carcinoGeneticist has begun a file transfer—
EB: you’re gorgeous <3
CG: HOLY SHIT, JOHN.
CG: BE RIGHT BACK
EB: yeah, me too.
The two of you stare at each other, breathing hard. You swallow hard and glance down briefly. Clockwork asks you what you want to do.
MAYBE WE CAN FIND A CLOSET OR SOMETHING.
There’s a few moment’s pause, then you both nod. You hurry off in search of a closet, and when you finally find one, thank fucking god, you return to where Clockwork is still waiting for you. You say that you found one and Clockwork looks relieved.
You grab the legs and Clockwork grabs the arms and you work together to shove the body into the enclosed space, then get the hell out of dodge.
CG: THSTSJ NOT RIGHT HANG ON
CG: JEDUS FUKV WHY IS YOIR NAME SOD HRAD TO TYPE
CG: ANYWAUS HI
CG: I’VE NEEM TJINGKING
CG: ALSO GETIKNG REALLY FUKINC DRUJK BUT WJATSEVER
CG: I WATHCED THIS SHOW POLENOM
CG: HOW ATHE HELL DID YO U EVEN GET THOSE THIGS IS THIS LIKE
CG: AM ANIMLATED DOCUJMENTARY OR SOMETHING
CG: BLOWING MY GODDDMANED IND
You smirk down at him as he mouths at the side of your bulge. He is so fucking good at that, but you’re not going to fucking admit that to him right now. Not when he’s kneeling in front of you, face smeared with red, somehow managing to fit your bulge into his mouth. He’s a miracle worker, seriously.
He pulls off, panting, and begs for you. You pretend to consider for several long moments before you leer at him.
I DON’T THINK YOU CAN HANDLE ME.
He pulls himself up into your lap and kisses you harshly, and you meet his kiss passionately, nails digging into his hips. He growls at you, that pathetic human growl that you can’t help but love dearly, and you rumble back at him. He reaches behind himself to pull out the toy that he’s been wearing this whole time, quickly captchaloguing it. Come on, he says, he can take it. You capture his lips in a kiss again as you push in quickly.
CG: COME IPSTAIRS
CG: I’VE GOT SOMTJING FOR UOI
CG: WAIT FUCK
CG: PRENTEND TOU DIDN’T SEE TJIS OKAY
He takes after John. God fucking damnit. Why couldn’t he take after you? How the fuck does one even get this much flour out of their hair? You can’t wash it out, it will just turn to glue! You guess you’ll have to brush it out. This little asshole. You need to get him back somehow, but you are just so shitty at pranks.
You were writing something down, but your attention drifted and you’re drawing your family. You’re not an overly fantastic artist, but you’re not terrible, and the horn shapes help to make most of them recognizable.
What are you drawing?
You smile at the sudden question and look over at him.
Can I see?
You captchalogue the paper.
IT’LL BE OKAY, KIDDO.
You wrap your arms around him as he cries.
I KNOW BREAKUPS ARE HARD. BUT YOU DESERVE TO BE WITH SOMEONE WHO WILL BE THERE FOR YOU.
You pet his hair, heart aching for him.
TAILS IS A GOOD PERSON, BUT SHE WASN’T RIGHT FOR YOU.
Your arms tighten around him.
SOMEDAY YOU’LL FIND YOUR SOULMATE, AND IT WILL BE THE MOST PERFECT THING YOU’VE EVER FELT. AND IT WILL MAKE UP FOR HOW YOU FEEL RIGHT NOW COMPLETELY. I KNOW HOW BAD IT HURTS, I REALLY DO, BUT YOU CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THIS. WE’RE ALL HERE FOR YOU AND WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
He grapples at your pants, somehow managing to pop the button with one hand. You groan as he fishes your bulge out, hips rolling up into his hand, but he lets go with a smirk. You bare your teeth at him as he tries to shove your pants down with one hand. His concentration slips and you tug your hand away from his.
You shove him off and roll back on top of him, hastily tugging his pants off. He leers up at you and you growl warningly as you tear his shirt-like you give a fuck about its safety-and pull it off of him. His hands pull at your sweater, too, and it comes off quickly, and then you’re stripping each other of your remaining clothes.
Thank fucking god the kids aren’t home.
Your bulge wraps around his dick and you both moan as you rut your hips together. You wonder if he has lube with him, but before you can ask, he’s flipping you over again. Fuck!
He presses against your chest with both hands as he nudges his way between your knees. Your legs wrap around his waist as he quickly lines up and pushes in.
You groan loudly, pulling him down into a harsh, eager kiss. His intensity matches yours perfectly, and when the kiss ends you’re both panting and grinding against each other. He starts thrusting, mouthing at your chest despite the lack of cream there. He knows what you love.
You lean up and catch his shoulder with your teeth, biting him hard enough to make him moan, but probably not as hard as he wants. You litter bites and hickeys across his shoulder, both hands going into his hair.
He feels fucking amazing, as usual, but the anger and pitch you must both be feeling makes it exciting at least for the fact that you don’t usually interact this way.
Neither of you last as long as you usually do; you come with a groan and he follows immediately after. You love that, as furious as you were moments before, now your heart warms and you pull him up for a sweet kiss, hands easing in his hair. His bruising grip on your hips gentles and he smoothes over your skin as you each mutter words of praise and affection.
You still call him an asshole, but he knows you love him anyway.
He grabs your wrists, smearing whipped cream all over the goddamned place, and pins them down to the floor. You snarl and try to pull your hands free, but his superior leverage gives him the edge. You growl and snap your teeth as he leans down and licks a stripe up your cheek.
You growl again, louder, as he shifts down to teasingly lap up the cream from your neck. This fucking son of a bitch. Somehow this always ends up happening. You groan as he nips at a patch of clean skin, then try to buck him off. The shitstain knows you way too well for you to win at this. He lets go of one of your hands so he can shove your shirt up, and by the time your chest is bared to him, your fingers are tangled into his hair, tugging harshly.
He lets out a rough groan and grinds down against your bulge. Your hips buck and you hiss, tugging at your second hand again.
He’s so infuriating.Somehow, yet again, you’ve fallen for a prank and you’re covered in what has to be whipped cream or maybe something similar, god knows what. You feel like punching him in the face, but instead you tackle him to the ground. That smug look on his face is just begging to be smacked off, but you punch him in the shoulder instead. He suddenly rolls over, topping you off of him.
This fucking asshole.
You slump down in your seat, trying to sneakily tug the glorified mittens off your hands as John watches you from across the desk.
karkat, please leave those alone. you know you need to wear them.
NO, I DON’T.
You glower at him and he sighs.
you do. you’ve already scratched your head raw, so i’m afraid we just can’t let you continue.
Your eyes drop and you stop fiddling with your hands.
I’M NOT CRAZY.
of course not, i never said you were. i would never call you crazy. but karkat, you’re delusional. you know that the things you dream about aren’t real, right?
THEY ARE, GOD DAMNIT!
You slam your fists down against the desk, and his eyes widen but he doesn’t flinch.
karkat, listen to me. you’re human. you don’t have horns. you never have. you can’t stand the damage you’re doing to yourself. you’re just a man. do you understand?
You glower down at the floor again. It’s not fair that he doesn’t remember. Why doesn’t anyone else remember? You lift a gloved hand to press to the bandages where your horns should be and press your round, disgustingly blunt nails into your palm. Your teeth press against your lip, not sharp enough to split it.
You know that you’re not crazy. You were a troll, you had horns and gray skin, you had sharp nails and teeth and you were dangerous. You played a game with the boy who the man sitting across from you used to be. You don’t understand why he doesn’t remember you.
He sighs and leans back, talking at you, and you go back to ignoring him.