hi everyone, it's lady lucifer (or starlight) here. i haven't really been posting here in a long time, as i have been all caught up in work and i am unable to be here as frequently as i was over the summer. recently, i've gotten into homestuck and i wanted to do a fan-fiction on my favorite pairing, johnkat, in a humanstuck style (characters from homestuck in our world living as humans). this is also a kind of tribute to my girlfriend for putting up with my shit, being there for me, and overall, loving the person i am despite the thousand miles that are in between us.
i hope you enjoy, and it's glad to be back!
a humanstuck johnkat fan-fiction
showtime;;Twelve o'clock, midnight. A boy sat down in his desk chair, the soft glow of his laptop's LED screen was reflected in this black, thick-rimmed glasses. Blue eyes behind the spectacles darted back and forth, and his small lips moved as he read the text before him.
heir of breath-
His fingers curled in a typing stance over the keyboard before he began typing. The tak tak of his keyboard was heard through his headphones that played classical piano music, but he didn't seem to mind.
Once his fingers stopped moving, there was a jingle and the boy smiled as he read something that popped up on his screen. He was on a chat board, “Pesterchum” to be exact. Then came more typing and a rapid pattern of stop and go continued on until at last an hour later when on the screen the boy read something that made him blush slightly and at the same time smile a toothy, buck-toothed grin.
The boy, who’s name was presumably John from the chatlog, closed the chat and turned off his laptop. He checked his smartphone that lay beside the computer on his desk and saw that his dad had left him a text saying he’d be working overnight and would be back at six in the morning.
John sighed. His dad was always so late in coming home and worked all the time everyday now. It was sad. He never really got to talk to his father anymore, and his father certainly did not yet know of this love between him and Karkat. He and Karkat had been together for a total of five months ever since today. They had met at least two years ago over Pesterchum and were at first rather cold towards each other, but grew to like one another to the point where like became love and then love became a relationship.
On that day when John finally fessed up to Karkat about his feelings, Karkat didn’t believe him at first and was a little stunned, but he also said he had feelings for John too and that was that.
John had told his friends Rose and Dave and his long-distance half-sister Jade the news. They were all happy for him and became closer friends with Karkat in the process.
And now John stood there, remembering the event with warm eyes. He walked out the door of his bedroom and down the long narrow hallway and out the front door. The breezy and fresh air of an open field in Kansas whipped through his messy comb of black hair as he stood outside. He made a little shiver and huddled in his blue hoodie and as the breeze passed he straightened up and began to gallop towards the looming hill just off to the side of the winding dirt driveway to his white wood-pannelled ranch house.
His neon yellow slacks were blurs on the bright green grass that grew almost as tall as John himself. The stalks whipped at his face and the skin on his arms that were revealed from the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie.
The elevation heightened, but John ran on and soon he arrived up at the very top of the hill and the sight was breathtaking. The moon was large and bright, nearing the horizon and made John’s already pale skin turn white. It showed the miles and miles of other smaller hills that created a bumpy canvas of green, green grass. His mouth was held agape, and his eyes began to blur from the brightness, but he didn’t care. He breathed out a long gasp and said quietly to himself, “Oh Karkat, if only you were here to see this…”
Finally, John sat down and fell on his back, looking up as the stars that seemed brighter than the night before. A shooting star appeared and John closed his eyes, sending up a wish to the high heavens of his own in hopes that it would reach some all-powerful source who would grant him that wish.
I want you here with me, Karkat…
But the world remained silent and no revelation came. John was left by himself. Empty. Longing. Karkat was still there and John was still here.
There was a frown of disapproval, and a quiet air of defeat as John left the hill, just as lost as he had been the other night when he dreamed of Karkat's hands around his neck and his warm body pressed against him. It was his imagination. It wasn't real.
But John wanted this to be reality. He wanted to wake up and have Karkat beside him for once. Yet he was still stuck here.
He walked up the creaky steps of his front porch and reached the doorknob, opening the door and slipping inside. The creak of the hinges and the slam of the door as it closed was all that echoed in the ever so quiet fields.
Even the air seemed to be mourning that night.
knight of blood-
I had stayed rather quiet for the whole time that I was chatting with John. When that stupid bastard's voice rang in my ears and I had to leave, I was about to storm outside my room and give him a piece of my mind.
But that would be a huge mistake.
My father wasn't necessarily the one to put up with my shit. In fact he doesn't put up with me at all, even if I'm not being an asshole, which I usually am.
I don't mean to be an asshole, it's just his attitude towards me... I'm automatically an asshole to anyone who doesn't click with me and annoys the fuck out of me which is often.
Don't really know what everybody else's problem is. Humans just bug the shit out of me, I guess.
The door to my room suddenly swung open, and there's my dad, practically wasted and his clothes all screwed up and too baggy for his frail body and his scruffy brown but graying hair a mess. All he does is drink alcohol and nothing else. He's probably going to die from undernourishment, but I'll be gladly celebrating his death once it finally comes.
“What do YOU want?” I demand, my face twisted up into a scowl like usual. My dad still didn't know about John and I and I wanted to keep it that way, so I hoped he wouldn't ask questions.
“The hell are you doing up this time of night?” Damn my luck.
I could feel my heart race a little as I opened my mouth but only stuttered a couple words,“Well uh... Um...”
“Spit it out, boy!” My dad's voice was slurred but still demanding and harsh. I had to say something or otherwise he'd beat me up again.
“I was just talking to someone...” My voice was really tiny and mousy and didn't have its hint of cracking or roughness. I was pretty scared.
My dad's gaze flicked over to my cracked desktop computer screen which still had the chatlog up. My heart caught in my throat as he moved towards it and saw John's icon which was of his face and him doing that goofy, buck-toothed smile that I had originally fallen in love with.
But what made me most anxious of was the fact that my dad was now reading the love you's both he and I had sent each other. And to add on to it, there on my desk beside my computer were all the drawings of him and I that John had made for me and sent to me through mail. My dad's fingers slowly began to sift through them and his face scrunched up the more he looked through them.
Oh God no.
Dad turned around, facing me and looking me dead in the eye. There was a huge look of disgust and disapproval on his face and I think all the color that I had in my pale grayish skin was drained and I was just a ghost.
“Karkat... Are you gay?”
It was a simple question, but at the very mention of the word which I was contemplating being, my dad's face just twisted into this grotesque expression and I winced in spite of myself.
Even then, I had to tell the truth. I could feel sweat forming on my brow and I drew up a hand to wipe some of it away before I said, “... Well... You could say that...”
My voice was even quieter than it had been the last time I talked, but my dad made out every word and before I knew it he had me in a headlock, punching me senseless, and all I could do was scream out and claw at his skin with my dirty fingernails and hope that someone would hear me.
But my cries were in vain. Nobody helped, and that was when I realized how alone I actually was. Where was John when I needed him? Why... Why was I so weak?
I need to help myself now.
I turned my now inflamed and sore face covered in bruises into the crook of my dad's elbow and opened my mouth, letting my blunt human teeth sink into his flesh. I kept biting down until I could taste the metallic and salty tang of blood on my tongue.
And finally I was flung from my dad's tight grasp and I fled out of my bedroom door, hearing him bang around as he drunkenly chased after me.
I went through the hallway and outside our apartment door, fleeing down the corridors and then finally finding the stairs. I was so fast in running down them that I nearly tripped over my own shoes and I would have fallen head over heels to the first floor and probably would have cracked my skull in the process.
And then when I reached the lobby, I opened the front doors and kept on running.
But I had forgotten one tiny yet terribly important detail.
New York City, including Brooklyn where I lived, was under attack from the oncoming storm of the year, Hurricane Sandy.
I was immediately blasted by a rush of frigid high-power gusts and rain coming down in slanted sheets. The streets were flooded and my measly one layer of a long-sleeved black shirt did not help me at all.
But did my dad give up chasing me? I didn't know, and I didn't look behind me. I continued anyway. I didn't want to live at that hellhole anymore; my father had beaten me ever since Mom died ten years ago. I felt like I was living in a nightmare everyday and I couldn't stand it. When I turned fifteen I had told myself that it would only be a few more years until I could finally go out on my own, but now I had been given the opportunity to flee.
So that's what I fucking did.
I took one step and nearly got blown over, but my chattering teeth held strong for once and I gritted them tight as I moved forward. I wouldn't tire out. I had an idea already; there was an old friend I could turn to... He'd shelter me for the time being...
I could feel my legs beginning to wane from strength. I couldn't feel my fingers or toes or face anymore. All I could do was see, and make out what was in front of me. I turned the familiar streets and finally came upon the house I had been searching for. The lights were still on, and I heard the hum of a generator running somewhere. I walked up the steps, careful not to fall, and began to knock fiercely on the door, screaming and shouting and hoping my friend inside would hear my desperate screeches above the howling winds.
“Gamzee you fucking dumbass, open this goddamn door right fucking now!” I kept screaming Gamzee's name over and over again, body pressed up against the door and my fist pounding and pounding until it was flung open, and I fell face first onto dirty carpet that smelt like cigarette smoke, orange soda, and moldy cheese.
The door closed and I felt the wondrous feeling of toasty warm air that soothed my skin and defrosted my frozen limbs. I think I laid there looking like a lifeless body for five minutes before a familiar voice echoed in my ears and my head shot up.
“Yo, Karkat bro, what were you motherfuckin' doing out there? You could have killed yourself, you know, crazy motherfucker!”
I turned around on my back and Gamzee gave me a hand, pulling me up on my feet. I swayed a little before finding my balance and I looked at him straight in his majestic purple eyes.
It had been years since I had last seen him. He was my buddy in elementary school before he dropped out of high school in his senior year (I had actually dropped out and decided to be homeschooled after that) and found a place here with the help of his parents.
His parents are filthy rich, coming from an heir of high royalty and wealth; always giving Gamzee everything because he's their “precious little angel” when in fact Gamzee has been dealing and buying drugs ever since the eighth grade. He's eighteen now, mind you.
His parents give him everything he wants; money, a house, a car, a job-even if it's a pretty shitty job as a convenience store clerk, and working heat and electricity as well as coverage of his medical bills and other shit. He's basically living his life, and once his parents die, he will inherit every last fucking penny those people own. To be honest, I find it kind of disgusting because of how selfish he and his parents are, but he's been my best friend since forever and he's saved me millions of times over and I will be ever thankful for his hospitality to me despite his view on people of the lower class. I've had to run here before from my dad, but I think this time is the last time.
When I looked at his face, he looked the same as he had the last time I saw him. He still wore that stupid ass gray and white clown make-up and had the same crazy curly hair, only it was a little bit longer and a little less curly, but more messy. His eyes were more deep-set and the lids were droopier than I had last seen. Not even the make-up concealed the dark circles under his eyes from hours of staying up, high on weed and L.S.D and “slamming Faygo's”, as he calls it. He was wearing a baggy black t-shirt and jeans that were way too big for him, and he had a terrible slouch going on with his back. This slouch was probably from the days he spent crouching over his computer and looking up bloody porn and pictures to satisfy his gore and beheading fetish. Poor guy; he really does waste his life away.
“It's been motherfuckin' forever, man! I missed you! Where have you been?” His voice was hoarse and tired sounding, but at least it was chipper and had a hint of glee to it.
I smiled and shook his large hand, “Yeah, it has! I've uh...” I broke away from the handshake and looked down before continuing, “I don't know... I've been having a bad time at my Dad's... You know, the abusive shit he does... I needed to run away again.”
Gamzee made a pitied frown and pat my shoulder, “Aw, man, bro, I'm sorry. But you're always motherfuckin' welcome at my pod. Sit back and chillax; slam a Faygo! I just got another pack, you wanna drink?”
I nodded and Gamzee smiled again, moving to the opening of a room behind me and I followed him silently.
It was just a spacey room with a leather couch that had numerous amounts of holes, and a flat-screen TV that hung crookedly on the white walls. There was a small kitchen where the carpet cut off and turned into black and white kitchen tile. There wasn't a shimmer to the tile though, and I could tell it hadn't been mopped or dusted in a while. The carpet was in worse condition, however, what with the numerous stains of the carbonated liquid that Gamzee was addicted to and the dark spots of smoke where Gamzee did his own drug addict business.
He went over to the fridge in the kitchen area and opened it. I had stopped before the turning of carpet to tile and caught a peek of the insides. All that was there were numerous flavors of Faygo and his homemade “slime pies” made out of green Jell-O. He did have some fruit and frozen meat as well as TV dinners, and he would probably give me any money if needed to go buy some more food.
What was so upsetting though was when Gamzee's generator would finally putter out and we'd probably still be in the storm once that happened and would be without electricity for days on end, even after the hurricane had carved its path.
Speaking of electricity...
Gamzee had handed me a grape flavored Faygo and kept an orange flavored for himself. I didn't open the bottle and instead, as he drank the whole bottle in one gulp, asked “Do you have a computer I can borrow?”
Gamzee licked the remaining juice off of his lips and gave me that seem, deep-set look of quiet contentment with a hint of a smirk on his face, “Oh yeah, man, there's one in the guest room you usually stay in. I have one of my own. That one's for just in case, like, you know, my main one motherfuckin' dies on me or some shit.”
“Thanks!” I raced out of the kitchen and went down the hallway and up the steep stairs to the door that was closed on the opposite side of Gamzee's room, who's door was held ajar and the lights were off. I never really ventured in his room whenever I came over here, and I didn't really want to explore now. One, I had someone I needed to contact and tell the news to, and two, I seriously was scared of that room from the haunting feel of it.
I flicked on the light and found myself in probably the tidiest portion of Gamzee's house, which was the guest bedroom. It was a familiar presence and I had slept in here many times before. A brand new looking laptop was sitting on the desk on the opposite side of the bed.
I flew into the desk chair and pressed the power button on the already open screened laptop. It booted up in a flash as it was actually asleep and I saw what was on the screen already and-
“Gamzee what the fuck is this shit on the screen!? I thought you said you didn't use this computer!?”
There was a pause before he shouted back an answer, “Well... The one I had broke! Guess we'll be sharing one if you want to continue on using it. Whatever's on there ain't gonna hurt you anyway, motherfucker.”
“But Gamzee there's so much blood!”
“It ain't so bad! I don't know what you're motherfuckin' complaining about!”
“IS THE GUY SHOVING-”
“Just exit out of the motherfuckin' tab already!”
I exited out of the tab and stared at the empty new tab screen on the browser that was up for a few seconds before slowly looking up Pesterchum on Google and downloading the latest version. I finally logged onto my account and began to communicate with John, even if he was probably sleeping already. John did have terrible insomnia though, so he may still be up doing something.
this is a kinda short chapter i guess? and is a little boring??? idk it's mostly an introduction of some sort... i'm trying to move things along in the next chapter and so far it's really agonizing ahhh. i'm just adding a lot of detail and trying to make my writing sound a little less bland. my writing sucks if you haven't noticed pff.
anyway i hope you enjoyed this somehow?
don't be afraid to review this and give your honest opinions! just make sure your opinions aren't just "this sucks". tell me why it sucks and what i could do to fix it up.
thanks for reading!