Lulu: yo~ happy early thanksgiving! :3 now, some of this new chapter may not make sense...the reason is because it was made and added onto around the time period of "2 to 3 am" where nothing makes sense ever. Basic summary is the rise and fall of the TerKat (or Karezi) ship because of familial intervention. Enjoy~
NOTICE: IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WITH THIS FANFICTION, PLEASE DON'T REPORT ME; JUST TELL ME YOUR ISSUES WITH THE PARTICULAR FANFICTION, AND I WILL DO MY BEST TO FIX THEM. I REALLY DON'T LIKE HAVING TO LOSE FANFICTIONS AND REUPLOAD THEM ALL OVER AGAIN. THANK YOU
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HOMESTUCK, FOR THAT IS OWNED BY ANDREW HUSSIE. I ALSO DO NOT OWN RWBY, FOR THAT IS FROM ROOSTERTEETH. ENJOY
WARNING: THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FANFICTION AND THEIR PERSONALITIES MAY NOT BE TRULY CORRECT; THIS IS BECAUSE THE AUTHOR (aka Me) MAY EITHER INTERPRET THEM DIFFERENTLY THAN THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE INTERPRETED, THEY MAY BE CHANGED IN ORDER TO FIT THE SPECIFIC AU, OR IN WORST CASE SCENARIO, THE AUTHOR (again, Me) MAY HAVE HAD THEIR PERCEPTION OF THESE SPECFIC CHARACTERS CHANGED DUE TO READING TOO MANY OTHER FANFICTIONS CENTERING AROUND THESE SPECIFIC CHARACTERS. PLEASE READ THIS FANFICTION WITH THESE THOUGHTS IN MIND.
POV specifically targeted in this chapter: Spades Slick (Midnight Crew), Karkat Slick (Midnight Crew)
Your name is Spades Slick, and today has been nothing but a big annoyance. First, you woke up with no beer. NO BEER! It's almost as if someone drank all of it…oh wait…DAMN YOUR PAST SELF! Drinking all your present self's beer without consideration!
Anyways, on top of having no beer to drink in the morning (since you were not exactly a coffee person), you caught your brat (aka Karkat, now age eleven) wearing one of YOUR OLD SUITS! While it was true that you rarely wore the thing, he should've known never to touch your suits. Hell, you're barely allowed to touch your suits (especially since that laundry mishap that had turned half of your precious, expensive suits into Technicolor nightmares).
When you see the kid in the suit, though, you almost want to start laughing. He looks absolutely ridiculous! The suit was simply too large for the brat, despite his latest growth spurt that made him only one and a half heads shorter than you now (you still hold that half head part in because dammit your kid is not only one head shorter than you! there must be a half!). The sleeves of the jacket pooled down a bit past Karkat's hands, which were constantly moving the sleeves to make sure he didn't trip on them. He didn't have that much luck with the pants though, he tripped on those a lot. It was a riot, even while the kid was getting red in the face, shouting a series of obscenities that'd probably make a sailor blush. This was followed by the of course cliché "Shut up! Someday I'll be able to wear this better than you ever could!" before the brat stormed off altogether to his room to pout.
After a few minutes, you'd finally stopped laughing and had decided to weigh your options. You could call Droog and have him temporarily hem the damn suit so that the brat didn't hurt himself (this would be annoying, as Droog would constantly have that disgusted look on his face about how filthy the place was or some shit like that) or you could go back to watching tv, only to have the brat come back out some time later just to be a prissy bitch (this was also annoying, because when your brat was being a prissy bitch, he'd change the channel from your pornos to his stupid romcoms). After considering this for the total of about five minutes, you decided to just say "fuck it" and call Droog.
Sometime later, things had become even MORE annoying. Droog had helped the brat out, bringing his own brat (Aradia) to help assist in whatever fashion-obsessed people did. Most of the time, however, you had to help because Aradia was sending (probably confusing) texts to a third brat (and her probable boyfriend), Sol. Honestly, watching those two and their cutesy ways of flirting made you throw up a little bit inside, but Deuce apparently thought it was "cute" and wouldn't stop taking pictures of it while Droog tried to swallow his anxiety with a glass of wine (he seemed to be more protective of his brat than you were).
When you were finally finished dressing the first brat (Karkat) up, Droog (instead of you, who probably did most of the work and was the greatest) was allowed a small "thanks" from the little monster before he claimed to be leaving. How was he going to go anywhere? Well, apparently at some point he'd bought himself a fucking bike (he'd apparently gotten some part-time job as a paper boy or some shit and had refused to share the money with you…that could've been beer money…). It was a red bike, and it honestly looked like crap, but you think Karkat didn't exactly give a crap as long as it worked.
Now at this point, you were totally ok with going back to your couch and watching pornos until tonight's latest "Midnight Crew Meeting" (where you either sat back and got drunk or committed some elaborate scheme that got you a pretty good amount of cash to last you awhile). Droog and Aradia, however, had other plans…and they lured you with beer…dammit…
BE THE FIRST BRAT!
Your name is Karkat Slick and you are NOT A FUCKING BRAT! You're an eleven year old, there's a difference. Currently, you were reaching the ultimate destination of what was going to be the greatest fucking date you'd ever fucking organized (since it was your first) with the girl you'd been skirting around since probably kindergarten. You'd seen enough romcoms to know how this kind of shit works. You were wearing a fancy suit you'd stolen from your dad (that experience had been embarrassing, but worth it if this worked out), holding a rose that you'd gotten from Ms. Paint's garden (with her permission, of course; out of all the people you'd met on your routes during work, she'd always been the most pleasant, so you tried as hard as you could to be respectful towards her), with two tickets to the greatest (and cheapest) amusement park that was in a bike-able distance to your house (it was twenty-five minutes of hell, but you still had made it ten minutes early).
You were fucking set, and you wanted to make sure nothing ruined this date. This was why you'd alerted no one to where you were going, since your dad wouldn't fucking care if you'd left without a word (you'd done it before; you did it every morning, in fact, to deliver the fucking papers at 5 am when you could barely see straight the sun was so god damn bright).
And then, she arrived; Terezi Snowman, age eleven, her black hair currently pulled up in a ponytail by an obnoxiously red ribbon. She was dressed in a simple red sundress (probably designed by Kanaya at some point or another), red slippers, and for some reason she'd decided to forego wearing her red shades, which usually covered the teal eyes that were now showing you a copious amount of excitement with a hint of deviousness. In short, Terezi was dressed in nothing but red, which was usually her thing anyway, but somehow she just seemed different…well, different in the way that made you kind of (majorly) blush and ask "What the fuck's with the dress?"
"It's a combat skirt!" she'd grinned, her teeth shaped like a shark's, though it somehow seemed more pretty than horrifying. You sighed
"How is any skirt a 'combat skirt'? Once you try a high-kick, guys have a wide opening!"
"I have shorts underneath!"
"But what if you didn't?!" Your banter continued on like this for a while, as you had paid for your tickets like the fucking gentleman you were (not). The next few hours were everything you could have potentially dreamed about for your age group (can't go too far when you're eleven, after all); all the rides you chose were slow, relaxing, and they often came after one of Terezi's favorite kind of extremely high and fast roller coasters. You'd had a lot of fun at the time, though you couldn't help the feeling that you were being…watched…
GO BACK TO THE DRUNKEN GUY
Your name is still Spades Slick, and you're not drunk…not yet, anyway, first you had to endure a few things. Things like Deuce and his really fast photo-taking skills, the chuckles of Aradia and Tavros as this small event had somehow brought everyone along for "Mission: Stalk the Brat". Sol and Lux had been finding the perfect angles for blackmail pictures, though you weren't sure when they'd ever use them (besides, even if they could use them, the brat would probably just burn all of their technology once he realized the pictures were there…one of the little things you'd be proud of if the time came…).
Still, you didn't exactly like this situation; you didn't give a crap about the brat dating someone, it was about damn time (you were dating before you could walk, so you were hoping your powers of "charisma" had at least spread to your brat). However, Karkat was doing what was probably the ultimate sin; he was dating a FELT MEMBER! You're ultimate enemies, those guys that live in that weird green mansion, thinking their better than you just because they use less illegal means to rake in the dough (you show them every time when you rob their casinos…and then they show you back when they shoot your knee-caps…it's a fairly violent cycle). Apparently, however, you were the only one that was disapproving of the union, so you were forced to stay quiet and watch the rest of your crew fan over the couple…until a certain gleam caught your eye.
You knew that you weren't the only ones watching, you'd known that for a while; Snowman was also a bit of a nosy parent and she'd gotten suspicious when Terezi had asked her to drop her off in such fancy attire for "a day out with friends". This gleam wasn't coming from her, however, it just…it seemed different…
And that, that was when you saw it. It was the main Felt brat, that goddamn Caliborn-kid…the kid who had a sniper rifle pointing at the couple's direction. Since when can that brat use FUCKING GUNS?! This was not ok. So you weren't the only one who didn't approve of this "date" (which really wasn't much of a date, there was nothing past holding hands! What a ripoff!), and apparently this brat wanted to kill.
Secretly, you moved away from the stalker group and snuck into the back of the building the armed brat was on. When you'd made your way to the top, he hadn't even noticed you. The brat was fiddling with the gun, which had probably been stolen from his father's collection (why are so many brats little fucking thieves?!...oh wait…). You sneak up behind the brat, and you grab him. You struggle, because for once in your life, you're actually being a responsible parent and not letting your kid die – and then, through some unforeseen force, the brat shoots the fucking gun.
In the next three minutes, you'd learned a few things; one of these things is that you apparently need contacts, because Caliborn's gun? Yeah, less of an actual sniper rifle, more of a paint ball gun; it was fairly odd paint gun Secondly, you've learned that you should probably never mess with someone holding a gun. From what you could later observe, he was probably just trying to get revenge for some forgotten vendetta. If you hadn't moved the gun, he would've missed his targets horribly and probably would've angrily walked home…but that didn't happen, because you moved the gun. And when you moved the gun, suddenly your kid's date wasn't exactly all red anymore. Now, Terezi's dress had a large black spot in the middle of what was supposed to be a perfectly red dress. The girl did not especially look happy about what happened, though you supposed that it could've been worse (she could've gotten hit in the eye).
Needless to say, your kid's date was kind of screwed after that part, and with your combined parental overprotectiveness (specifically from Droog and Snowman, since most of the time you couldn't give a shit), Karkat and Terezi weren't exactly on hand-holding levels for a while. You were going to, but then you found the liquor store and he got a case of root beer instead, though he hadn't seemed to mind this as he chugged a can down just as quickly as he would with his favorite brand of cherry soda. After all of that crap, the last thing you remember is passing out on the coach at home, where you'd wanted to be in the first place, watching a rerun of some crappy cartoon with your brat sleeping on the other end of the coach. This would've been a more beautiful family moment if he hadn't still been pissed with you for ruining his date.
Lulu: end~ see you next chapter :3