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Misunderstandings



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Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you are suddenly wishing you could remember the name for the fear of clowns because it seems to be a really relevant thing right now, holy shit.

You were just jolted awake from the latest of your dreambubble escapades, fighting off the disorientation that always followed them.  (Seriously, was a plain, garden-variety dream really too much to ask?  You could even go for one of those "naked-in-class" ones at this point!)  Your heart was almost done trying to pound its way out of your chest, so you tried taking a good, deep breath to relax and went to roll over and that was when you noticed the freaking huge shadow standing at the foot of your bed and just looking at you with yellowy-orange glow-in-the-dark eyes (which are awesome in movies like Little Monsters but in real life in the dark at the foot of your bed they're just really fucking scary.)  Scrambling for your glasses, you could just make out the outline of some seriously shaggy hair and a pair of huge spiraling horns – you were awake enough to identify it as a Troll, thankfully, but it didn't look like anyone you'd already met.  You fumbled for the light switch.

That was probably not the best idea.

You didn't think anything could get freakier than a big shaggy huge-horned shape with glowy eyes looming over you in the middle of the night, but now you know how wrong you were.  Now you can see that it's a big shaggy huge-horned clown with glowy eyes.  And polka-dot pants.  And a couple of ginormous juggling clubs.  Oh holy shit.

"Uh… G-Gamzee?"  You're pretty sure – god, you hope - that was the name they told you.  "Is that you?"

The orange-yellow eyes do a long, slow blink and a voice that somehow warbles and growls comes from the giant nightmare vision.  "Oh, so you do up and know my name.  Points to you, motherfucker."  He does something that looks like a smile except it shows every inch of some seriously fucking sharp teeth.  

You try to tell yourself he's just being friendly.  "Hehe, yeah… um." Knowing he got the drop on you, you can feel your Prankster's Gambit sinking toward the negative digits and you kind of desperately hope he is being friendly.  "Is – is there something you, y'know, need?"

"Oh I'd up and say so, my fine pink brother, yes I would."  

He doesn't expand on that thought but his smile gets bigger and even though you know this would probably be a good time to have your Windy powers ready to go, for some reason you can't quite get that thought to gel in your head the way it should.  Your heart is thinking about hitting another speed record now - you're totally winging it, trying to stall for time.  "O-o-okaaay… do you… wanna sit down, maybe?"  You think about him settling in right next to you and just about take that thought back, but that would probably not go over well!

Gamzee leans forward, resting his fists on either side of your knees on the mattress.  He hasn't let go of the clubs and his crazy mane of hair sweeps forward to throw some fantastically creepy shadows across his painted face.  "Well look at you, bein' so polite and shit.  Makes a motherfucker feel all up and welcome-like. "

Okay, so maybe he's not being friendly.  Or maybe he is in a really, really disturbing sort of way.  You don't know; Trolls are really weird!   You pull your feet up toward you, away from those insanely long arms.  That high-pitched squeak was not you, there must be a loose spring in this shitty alchemized mattress.  "You, uh, seem kinda mad – did I do something?"  You do your best to look innocent, which actually isn't very hard right now.   "I mean, I've never actually met you to do anything, but – "

A sound sort of like the pissed-off great-grandfather of a bicycle horn cuts you off.  "He wants to be motherfucking knowing did he do something." There's a nasty feeling like ants crawling all over you all of a sudden and oh fuck, is he doing that?!   He's leaning closer and closer to you, backing you against the wall.  "Him and his little barkbeast eyes lookin' all pan-muddled like he didn't up and MOTHERFUCKING DISRESPECT A BROTHER."

"What?  Whoa!  Whoa, wait!" His eyes go even more orange and now only his makeup is smiling.  There are voices gibbering in your head that you're gonna die right now and every moment you ever spent gazing at the perfection of Liv Tyler is flashing before your eyes and oh god you've got to think!  "I never pranked you – I've never even met you!"  Your eyes are darting back and forth; you can swear you can see shadows moving around you, getting sharper, closer -

"Naw,  brother,  you ain't got the seein' of it yet." Jesus, his breath is ruffling your hair and you can't look away from his eyes.  "Maybe your pan's got an empty-like spot where the knowin' should all up and be…" His head tilts and one of his enormous horns nearly scrapes the wall next to you, "…Maybe you just got the thinkin' to be all FUNNY,  tryin' to make with some HARSHWHIMSY.  Maybe," he's on the bed now, oh shit when did he get on the bed, "I should make with some crackin' and scrambling all up like with a cluckbeast egg, see what all's goin' on in there for my own self."

"Um!  Ok, I'd really rather you didn't, I kinda like my head staying nice and un-cracked, all right?"  You're scrunched up about as far as you can get at the head of your bed, and damned if you don't feel like a mouse about to get swatted by a cat. "H-how about you take a minute and explain to me what I did… pretend I'm an idiot, like Karkat calls me all the time, haha…" You smile for a second in spite of yourself.  Karkat really does call you that, in some of the most awesome ways you've ever heard!

"That's exactly what I'm motherfucking here about, monkeybro.  See, no one – NO ONE – gets to play around with my most miraculous palebro's bloodpusher."

"Bloodpush-? Oh, is that what you call a heart?  Wait… I wasn't – I wasn't playing!  Well, ok, I was, but not-that-way-oh-god-lemme-explain!" The sound that just came out of Gamzee's throat tells you you've got one shot and about twice that many seconds, and your mouth just goes on autopilot.  "We were watching a movie and it was stupid and boring, so I thumped him with a pillow and then he thumped me back and it was this awesome pillow-fight and he tackled me and I didn't mean to kiss him like that, well yeah I did, but I thought I wasn't – and it kind of freaked me out, but - but I just like him, and he seemed to like me too, and he kind of kissed me back, but then he started talking about you and I thought he meant that the two of you were a thing and that made him get all weird and he asked if I'd seen you or anything and I told him I hadn't and he got even weirder, and oh jeez I fucked up a Troll thing, didn't I, he didn't say anything and I didn't mean to—"

Your word-vomit is stopped by the soft tap of a juggling club against your lips.  

"That is one fine-ass example of gettin' your explain on, motherfucker.  Makin' me get my hear on real good… just one big auricular fuckin' sponge clot up in here for the righteous enlightenment." He settles back a fraction, and you risk a tiny flicker of hope.   "SO."  His eyes go all orange again, shit.  "Am I up and hearin' that you're feelin' all flushed–like for my palebro?"

"Uhm.." You try to swallow down some of the gut-churning fear (you'd always thought that was just a figure of speech but damn if it isn't true!) so you can speak. "I, uh, I'm not completely sure what that means, but I really like Karkat, in a, y'know, kissing kind of way…and, maybe more than kissing, I dunno…" God this is embarrassing!  "We've been Friendleaders together which is awesome, and we do fun stuff together, and I know he shouts at me a lot but I think it's because he likes me and he doesn't know any other way to say it and it's kind of funny anyhow and – and I care about him, y'know, how he feels and if he's happy and I don't want anything bad to happen to him, so… um... yes?"

Gamzee's face suddenly stretches into a huge grin and he shouts "BITCHTITS!" loud enough to make you jump about a foot as he bounces up, turning in midair to land right next to you at the head of the bed.  You land with the least dignified *oof* ever, nearly losing your glasses.   "You seem pretty okay, Windybro, even if you do need to get your motherfucking knowledge on about some things.  Don't you worry none - me and Karbro will up and get you all schoolfed and shit."  You're suddenly holding a blue bottle of Faygo in one hand and trying not to spill it as he clunks his own bottle against yours in a toast and starts chugging.

Your Prankster's Gambit is going to take weeks to recover.


: o )  ♑  D o :
My first Homestuck fic :paranoid:, written for the following prompt at the Kinkmeme:

"When one is looking to flush-date a troll, it's considered polite to seek out their moirail and gain their permission first. Of course, humans wouldn't know this.

So cue John/Dave making romantic overtures towards Karkat, and Gamzee discovering this. He decides to schoolfeed the human in proper troll etiquette.

In the middle of the night.

By appearing out of nowhere at the foot of the human's bed.

And LOOMING.

And demanding to know what, exactly, John/Dave's intentions are towards his moirail.

AND LOOMING."


Very much an AU, considering John's on the meteor and I'm hand-waving away the Act 5 Murderspree because feelings. Bleh. It was a fun prompt, and I enjoyed writing it. ;P
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March 9, 2013
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