untitled;
Title: n/a
Genre: gen
Warnings: perhaps slight spoilers for current happenings in Homestuck.
Characters: Kanaya Maryam & Karkat Vantas.
Notes: Written for homestuck1000
“Don't look,” she says, and Karkat doesn't; he doesn't really fucking want to, he really remembers what just happened just fucking fine without reminding himself by looking at it. There are warm bits still spattered and gelling on him, dark indigo pooling across the floor mixing with Kanaya's jade blood, her wounds that are already healing.
She wore Eridan's seaslugsilk cloak tied around her waist like a tourniquet. The fabric was as smooth as water and cool on his face when she wiped away tacky red tears and blood. The fabric was probably more valuable strictly speaking than the net worth of his dirty red blood and mutant body. “Fuck, Kanaya,” and he could still barely say her name, stuttering like a wiggler.
“Shh.” She pinched the cloth around his olfactory nub. “Now blow.”
He does, with a disgusting honk that would probably have made Gamzee laugh. Kanaya pragmatically rips off the dirtied part of the robe, bunches it up and drops the fabric on the floor, where it's still probably worth more than his entire fucking life, even though he just blew pinkish snot all over it.
Genre: gen
Warnings: perhaps slight spoilers for current happenings in Homestuck.
Characters: Kanaya Maryam & Karkat Vantas.
Notes: Written for homestuck1000
“Don't look,” she says, and Karkat doesn't; he doesn't really fucking want to, he really remembers what just happened just fucking fine without reminding himself by looking at it. There are warm bits still spattered and gelling on him, dark indigo pooling across the floor mixing with Kanaya's jade blood, her wounds that are already healing.
She wore Eridan's seaslugsilk cloak tied around her waist like a tourniquet. The fabric was as smooth as water and cool on his face when she wiped away tacky red tears and blood. The fabric was probably more valuable strictly speaking than the net worth of his dirty red blood and mutant body. “Fuck, Kanaya,” and he could still barely say her name, stuttering like a wiggler.
“Shh.” She pinched the cloth around his olfactory nub. “Now blow.”
He does, with a disgusting honk that would probably have made Gamzee laugh. Kanaya pragmatically rips off the dirtied part of the robe, bunches it up and drops the fabric on the floor, where it's still probably worth more than his entire fucking life, even though he just blew pinkish snot all over it.