Chapter 2: 2
have some more yaoi
If only we had some to enjoy in the first chapter.
John Egbert woke up on the bathroom floor yesterday, covered in his own blood.
He did not wake up of his own accord.
Just like you're not reading this of YOUR own accord!
“God DAMN it, you stupid fuck, wake up wake up wake up! Hey! John! JOHN! Egbert, I swear to christ if you die on me I am going to—“
John’s eyes fluttered open to see his roommate hovering over him, shaking him, teeth gritted, eyebrows drawn tightly into a knot.
Score one for the stalker, they are NOT related.
Dave jumped back, almost frightened, then slunk back down to John’s level. He makes a move as if to touch him, but then pulls his arm back.
“John, what the hell happened to you?”
The fic happened, duh.
John blinks. His head hurts. Dave raises his hand and snaps his fingers impatiently in front of John’s face.
“Yo. Egbert. Are you listening to me? Did you get jumped? Fuck, you got jumped, didn’t you? Holy—how many fingers am I holding up?”
John grimaces. “Uh, three?”
Dave’s expression softens and he puts his hand down. “Okay. Good. We need to get you to a hospital.”
A hospital, it's a place with doctors and surgeons and blood. You're the one who likes blood, right?
“A fucking hospital Egbert, you look like you tried to fight a train with your face and a pack of shitty bubblegum from the Dollar General!”
Eh, I like mine better.
The throbbing in his head becomes loud enough to drown out Dave’s voice until it sounds like the whole world is underwater. What happened last night? Desaturated images with low opacity float along the top of his memory, each one fuzzier than the last. His head feels bloated and swollen.
John's brain is a hipster's instagram
“Dave, what time is it?”
“It’s—what? It’s six-thirty. Why?”
“Six—Dave! Shop opens in half an hour!” He tries to stand, clutching the side of a wall for support. His body feels stiff.
If you know what I mean, hohohoho
“Sho—John, you don’t honestly think we’re going in to work today, do you?” Dave gives him a look like he’s about to make John count his fingers again.
I think the author is trying to go for natural-sounding dialogue, but I just can't think of what that initial "Sho" was segueing into.
“That’s our only source of income, Dave! Yes, I think we’re going into work! I’m fine, okay?” John starts to leave the bathroom, the world slipping slightly out of focus again. His footsteps echo. Everything feels strange.
This is exactly the kind of mindset you want when you go into work.
this is your fault fix it fix it
Oh, this again
The walls all feel like skin, crusted and peeling. The walls are skin. They have always been skin
plunge your fists in deep and fuck the womb with your fingers
Please don't fist the walls
“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Dave is watching John trace patterns in the wall with his fingers. One eye is swollen shut, and his teeth are stained with blood. He’s grinning.
Oh my god he's actually considering it
He doesn’t want to admit it, but this isn’t the first time he’s found John like this.
“I really don’t want you going in to work, dude. Your face is a fucking waffle maker and you shouldn’t have to deal with baking when you look this bad.”
John grimaces at the mention of a waffle maker. He hates waffles. He hates bagels too. He hates bread.
He hates starch. He hates sugar. He hates carbon atoms.
Please don't, the walls don't deserve this.
“…okay, but if you pass out on me, I’m calling an ambulance. Deal?”
John smiles. “Deal.”
He doesn’t want to remember.
Story of my life
John was in the back today.
Dave decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea for John to work cash, because he might scare the customers. John didn’t mind. He wasn’t feeling well.
He's probably more okay talking to the bread at this point anyway
He hands slowly kneaded the bread, ghosting over the curvature of the many lines, stretching it slowly. The dough had great elasticity and John watched mesmerized as strands of dough trailed off with his hand. The strands reached their breaking point and dropped on the table. John stared as the stray bread lines entwined within each other, hatching and crossing and hatching impossibly, over and over and spinning and sobbing and crying and laughing
There was a vortex at the end of the tunnel. It was twinkling enticingly up at John. Little beams of light circled around him peacefully, bending to his will. John smiled softly. He pressed a finger up against one. This must be what god feels like.
That's some fucking bread
Look down, now back up, your bread is Nietzsche
The light was sucking at his finger, pulling at his skin, dissolving the matter around him and folding his bones inside of themselves and god it hurt so bad there was blood dripping down his shirt again and it’s the wrong one
It's okay friend, knowing what I know, you'll be Slenderized soon enough.
“John. Are you okay?”
John looked up dazedly. “What?”
“You’ve stood there with your finger stuck in the dough for ten minutes.”
John looked down. “Oh.” He took his finger out.
He put his finger in, he put his finger out.
He put his finger in, and he shook it all about.
He did the Hokey Pokey and he masturbated a bread's womb...
Dave crinkles his face from behind his sunglasses and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something. He doesn’t. He walks away slowly, casting John looks over his shoulder.
That's what it's all about!!
John starts to form the dough into donut shapes, feeling sick. He hates doing the baking. It’s disgusting.
John has an intense hatred of torus shapes
“He isn’t coming back.”
John looks over, startled. Leaning casually against the far kitchen wall was the bagel shop’s best customer: Karkat Vantas.
My guess is the door.
Karkat walks closer, getting in John’s personal space. He leans in, slowly taking a lock of John’s hair and twirling it in his fingers uninterestedly. “He hates you. We all do, you know.”
Can't you just FEEL the romantic tension in the air?
John shivered, whimpering. He backed up against a wall. “S—stay back—“
Karkat shoved him rulthfully against the cool metal of the wall behind him. His face is impassive. “He told me why, you know. Before he hung himself.” The fingers in John’s hair became a hand and gripped at the back of John’s head lightly. Another hand trailed down John’s stomach and traced the hem of his jeans. “It was because of you.”
He what now
Also, what the hell does "rulthfully" mean?
“You do everything wrong, John.” Karkat leaned forward and pressed his nose to John’s neck, smelling audibly. “You’re disgusting.”
John started sobbing, his shoulders heaving and shaking with the force of it.
Now I'm not a psychologist, but I THINK maybe there's some manipulation going on here
Karkat breathed hotly on John, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “He could never be proud of you, John. He lied. He did it to hurt you.” Karkat placed his fingers gently on John’s lips. Tears were streaming down his face. He could barely see. “He told me to hurt you too, you know. Do you want to know how?”
“By killing you.” He shoved his hand up into his mouth and broke the skull, shattering bits everywhere as his fingered John’s grey matter, pushing and pulling and twisting and another hand reached up to gouge into his eyesockets, letting forth another surge of blood as the fingers fucked his mangled eyes—
“JOHN! God, John, oh god, it’s okay I promise, please stop, Jesus, please—“ Arms were cradling him, rocking him back and forth.
He was still screaming fifteen minutes later. It took him three hours to stop crying.
Then he was laughing.
He needed to get the gun.
I think that was a hallucination? In that case, at least we know the two of them share feelings for one another.
What KIND of feelings are another question entirely.
Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are making versions of yourself and Egbert in The Sims so you can kiss.
Karkat you gay nerd
It was three in the morning.
It's okay Karkat, Sims addiction happens to the best of us.
Karkat was maxing out his own muscles in the Sim Creator when “Baby Got Back” sung out from his jacket pocket. Karkat flipped his phone out and answered.
There are so many things to point out here I honestly can't think where to start.
“Have you theen Gamthzee lately?”
Oh god textualized lisps
Karkat groaned and pushed away from his computer.
Honestly I did exactly the same thing right there
“No, I haven’t seen Gamzee lately, I’m not his fucking mom. I’m sure he can take care of himself for a couple weeks without kicking the proverbial bucket, Sol.” He still didn’t have enough muscles yet. He’d have to go back and add that custom skin he downloaded with all the pecs.
He needed more pecs. At least five of them.
“Uh, no, he can’t, idiot. That’th why you’re supposed to check up on him!”
Karkat stopped playing his game long enough to glare through the phone. “And since when was I bestowed upon the ever-holy duty of cleaning up a crack addict’s vomit?”
Everyone's messed up! You're messed up! I'm messed up!
“Thinth you became hith friend, you thelfith fuck! Or can’t you find any time in your bagel-boy-filled theduale anymore to help out your betht friend?!”
Karkat blushed a deep color. “He’s not my best friend, you asslicking fucktard. You are. He’s more like a stoned little brother.”
“Oh, tho you don’t deny that you’ve been vithiting that guy at the bagel thop thtill?”
Karkat blushed, if it was possible, even harder. He had been picking out “Egbert Guy’s” outfit and his mouse had been poised over a sultry maid’s gettup. He hastily moved his mouse somewhere else. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sadly, we do
“Bullthit. I know you’re obthethed with him, I wath there when we went to the bagel place for the firtht time, remember?”
Are we going to get a flashback sequence now?
“God fucking damn it Sol, we’re so close to my apartment, I can just get you something to eat there. I don’t want to spend my hard earned money on stupidass shit that I have at home!”
“You don’t have bagelth at your plathe, KK. Bethideth, it’s my birthday.”
Damn it all to hell
Karkat groaned. “Fine. But I’m not having any.”
“Yeth you are.”
“What the fuck, Sollux, why.”
“It’th my birthday. I’m getting you back for forth feeding me when I’m in one of my deprethive thtates.”
Whatever that translates to, I'm glad he did that to you.
“I don’t like bagels.”
“I don’t like thoup.”
I don't like you
Thank you Karkat
Sollux just chuckled and pushed him inside.
The guy working cash was a guy with a massive overbite and a weak smile. He also had bags under his eyes similar to Karkat’s, he noted mutely. Not that it mattered.
You don't think it matters? Just wait a few chapters, I'm CERTAIN it'll matter.
“Yeah, listen, we just want a couple of bagels, okay, and also—do you guys have tea here?”
“Um, we have chai and green.”
“Yeah, I’ll take the chai. What kind of bagel would you like, princess?” He shot Sollux a deadly look.
“Thetheme theed, thweetheart.”
This lisp will be the death of me long before the skullfucking will.
“Okay, that and a—“
Sollux grinned. “And a pumpernickel for grumpy here.”
Karkat was scathing. “Are you fucking kidding me? I hate shit with seeds! I am not eating that!”
“Pumpernickel and a thetheme. That and KK’s chai.”
“No! God! If I’m getting anything, it’s a plain! And that is a HUGE if.”
The cashier looked amused. “Alright, well, there’s a new batch of bagels almost out of the oven, would you want to wait a couple of minutes and get the fresh ones instead of these, Kaykay?”
Dear god, the cutesy names have begun
Karkat gritted his teeth menacingly. “My name is not Kaykay, asshole. It’s Karkat. Karkat Vantas. And no.”
“He meanth yeth.”
He actually meant "yeti." He wants a full yeti.
“Hehe, alright. Well, we’ve got a couple of seats in the back if you want to sit down.”
Karkat did not need any more persuasion than that. He stomped off before the young man had finished speaking.
Clearly it's true love
After about five minutes of pointless bickering, the cashier walked over with a tray, setting it down.
Karkat could not believe his eyes.
The cashier had a penis the size of Massachusetts. And then they fucked.
“Holy shit, are you really that stupid? Did I not JUST SAY NO PUMPERNICKEL? Do you even KNOW how to listen? Good GOD, is the wax in your ears so deep seated that it’s reached all the way through your thick skull and coated your brain? NO FUCKING PUMPERNICKEL. HOW HARD IS THAT. HOW. HARD.”
The messy-haired idiot actually had the gumption to snicker at this, glancing slyly at Sollux. Did he—had he really…
“DID YOU FUCKING DO THIS ON PURPOSE?!”
Is this how assholes flirt with one another?
Karkat could not believe what he was hearing. No one had ever purposefully tried to piss him off without knowing him first. No one.
His face heated and his knuckles turned white. “GET. ME. A. PLAIN. BAGEL. YOU. WORTHLESS. SHITSTAIN.”
Oh look, they're BOTH flirting!
“My bad! I’ll be right back.”
Karkat watched him go, mesmerized.
Finally, some hints at honest-to-god yaoi
He left? To go get you a bagel? What were you expecting?
“Did he just do what I thought he did?”
“Heheheh. Funny guy.”
Karkat turned his head incredulously, but the cashier had already returned with another bagel.
“Sorry about that, Karkat! I was a little mixed up.”
Karkat was about to roll his eyes and reply scathingly to this when he saw what the guy had placed in front of him. It was the same pumpernickel bagel from before, except it looked like the shaggy haired kid had poured a whole package of raw pumpernickel seeds over the entire thing, to the point of some actually falling over the sides and on to the table. Karkat’s jaw nearly fell clean off his face. He looked up at the cashier, speechless. The guy was clutching his sides and biting his lip, pink in the face, absolutely shaking from poorly concealed mirth.
Just like I said would happen, he came with another bagel.
He had never been more turned on his life.
John REALLY likes his pranks.
“Whatever. It isn’t like I’m going there every day or something.”
“Bullthit, you totally are, you romantic dweeb. Do you know his name yet?”
Karkat paused. “…Egbert.”
“Egbert? Ith that a firtht or latht name?”
Die in a hole
“Uh.” You had searched for an Egbert on facebook in your area, and was lucky enough to only turn up one result. However, upon clicking the name, Karkat was dismayed to find all of his pictures were of overused unfunny internet memes, so there was no way of telling if it was the right Egbert or not. Karkat was warry of friending people he wasn’t sure he knew. He didn’t want those “internet people” getting ahold of his very important personal information and status updates. “…last.”
You shifted from a second person view to a third person view within a paragraph. There wasn't even a line break to draw attention away from it.
“Tho you don’t know his first name.”
“Sollux, go the fuck to sleep. I’ll check up on Gamz tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
“You’d better. I’ll know if you didn’t.”
His lisp tells him all
“Go to sleep, stupid.”
“Fine. G’night, KK.”
He hung up the phone.
Karkat hesitated momentarily before choosing the maid’s outfit.
Your name is John Egbert and every night you pray for death.
Don't worry, it's the Sims. If you're not dead within a week Karkat's doing it wrong
Chapter 3: 3
this is a bagel yaoi about karkat's hot anime life
You know, I'm beginning to think these summaries aren't truly sincere.
John did not go into work for three days.
Because Karkat deleted the door.
Every night Dave would come home to find John staring at himself in the bathroom, covered in new bruises and scratches. Dave would sit with him in their living room and talk to him about his day, talk about how some hot chick came in an ordered a big-ass bagel, talk about how shitty the music on the radio was, talk about how hungry he is and order a pizza, watch John not eat the pizza, order Chinese and watch John not eat that either, talk about anything to fill the silence that is John sitting there, wordlessly, looking like death and quietly getting thinner.
Man, Dave does sure love watching that food not get eaten by John.
The next day is different.
John sits in a corner in his room, picking at the slashes on his wrist while watching the blood pool around his feet. God, it’s so red. It looks like ribbons and raspberries. He picks up the knife, slightly dizzy from the blood loss, and readies himself to hack again.
dripping milked whore useless dirty fuck harder harder kill death bleed
Yeah, those sure are words
“What exactly do you think you’re trying to pull here?”
Karkat steps closer and bends himself down to be face-to-face with John. John avoids his gaze. Karkat slaps him and forces his head up so he’s looking him straight in the eyes.
“The fuck. Are you trying. To pull.”
Karkat leans back and swipes a finger in the blood, and then holds the bloodied finger in John’s face.
“Did you really think this would fool me?”
"Painting your skin with blood won't fool my feelings!"
John whimpers, cowering. Karkat responds by roughly shoving the finger on John’s eye socket and rubbing. John yelps and tries to weakly shove him off.
“It isn’t even the right color, you disgusting idiot.”
I what? Why?
He roughly punches John in the face, busting his lip and spurting more blood.
Karkat gets up and the whole world bends. The floor twists and cracks and folds, people are screaming and a man smiles at him from across the room before stepping up on a high stool and swinging from a children are laughing but their tongues are too long and their legs are on a little boy with too many arms and a baby with too many heads and one of them is made of tumors pulsating in the belly of a mucus filled KILL ME PLEASE KILL ME
Man you need to get some fucking antipsychotics in you
“Look what I brought you, Egbert.”
Please let it be medicine
John looks up. Karkat is dangling a headless woman over him. Her blood is dripping on his face, over his body.
That is very much not medicine
“Do you see now?”
“Do you see why your blood could never be a substitute?”
John’s hand hovers above the naked flesh. He sees.
Thank god you see, because I'm kind of lost here
“Touch it, John.”
John presses his fingers into her stomach and watches as the skin unfolds and uncoils around his hand, the perfect red reaching up to cover and eradicate his imperfect imitation. He can feel the muscle. His fingers are twitching, following the curves, he’s dipping his hands, exploring and ripping and bleeding as one.
Stop touching the imaginary dead woman, John.
all you have to do is kill the broken ones and see them fixed maybe we won’t even have to see you anymore wouldn’t that be just glorious wouldn’t that be glorious if you were dead and bloated and gone
John pulls out the tissue and places it next to him as he shoves both his hands inside, tears sliding down his face. He yanks out intestines and organs. He scratches his nails against the inside of her hollow torso, getting her color underneath his nails. How could he ever compare to this? He sobs and warps his fingers around the entrails, splitting holes further to expose the pockets of bile. He wanted to cut off her legs.
cut her legs off cut her legs off cut her arms off I’m so proud of you son
“Look at this, John. Look at her. Do you see how awful you are now? Even this headless whore is better than you. Everyone can smell your stink from a mile away.”
He leaned down closer again, his voice warped and beautiful and broken. He cupped John’s face and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I need you to do this, John. It’s the only way.”
John felt empty. The blood was starting to sear through his flesh.
“Everyone hates you. Everyone.”
The pain was unbearable, he could feel his bones cauterizing from the heat of it. He just wanted it all to end.
Yeah man, really get to work on those antipsychotics.
The apartment smelled funny. Dave hung up his keys and crinkled his nose, looking for the source. He walked towards John’s room.
Word of advice: don't do that
“Hey I’m—John, what the FUCK DID YOU DO?!” John was sitting alone in the corner of the room, hands at his sides, covered in blood. In front of him were pieces of an intricately disemboweled cat, intestines wrapped around John’s fingers. Dave gagged. He turned to screech at John again when he saw the cuts on his wrists.
What did I tell you?
NO KITTY WHY
He rushed over, his heart beating a mile a minute and pulled John’s hands free from the gore. “Oh god, John, you wouldn’t—“ John’s chest rose and fell.
He was still breathing.
His eyes, however, remained dull.
Dave felt the blood leave his face. “John, please, what happened?”
John didn’t turn towards him. “Claim freedom persecuted pump tongue terseuck.”
Yeah, that's terrible
Dave crinkled his eyebrows. “What?”
John looked at him. “Deragin james key asintrack ex.”
Dave looked worried. “John, asintrack isn’t even a word.”
And "Deragin" is?
“Withdrew space regular rule.”
Of COURSE! It all makes sense now!
Dave couldn’t stand the smell. He picked John up and took him out into the bathroom and placed him in the bathtub, lifting his shirt off for him and turning the water on. John’s head lolled against the back of the tub. He was so pale, the splattered blood a sharp contrast to his withering frame. He looked dead. Dave choked back a sob as he bandaged John’s wrists, forcing himself to look away. He couldn’t take much more of this.
Son, you suffered a thousand deaths in the Homestuck world, you pulled a sword out of your brother's gut, you should be able to handle this
“He’s doing that thing again.”
"That thing with his penis and the bagel dough"
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, as you haven’t used a single proper noun.”
“I’m not in the mood for fucking games, Lalonde.”
This will be good
“What exactly did you expect from housing with a schizophrenic Dave, hm? That his sanity would bend to your will and convenience? This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Rose knitted causally in her den. “How bad is it?”
“He’s saying random words and—fuck—“ Dave’s voice fizzled out at the receiver. The sound of splashing water could be heard.
“Hm.” Rose continued her knitting. “I believe that’s known as ‘word salad’ among casual diagnosticians of schizophrenia.”
Of which you are obviously one
The splashing stopped. After a few moments, there was the sound of a door closing. “I—it just, it feels like I’m making him worse, I—“ Silence. “I came here to make him better, and I’m making it worse and I don’t know what I did and he’s, god, Rose, I don’t know what I did.” Muffled sounds.
Rose stops knitting. “Dave. It’s alright. Tell me what he did.”
“He… He’s hurting himself, he’s fucking hurting himself. God, Rose, he’s… h—he’s hurting… other things.”
Rose sat up in her chair. “Dave? What exactly did he do?”
You should text her pictures. If she's in character she should love that shit.
“He—God, this is all my fault.” There’s a dull thud accompanied by more muffled noises.
Rose puts her needles away completely. “Dave, this is serious. He needs to be hospitalized immediately.”
The end of the receiver is quiet.
“Dave. Listen to me. This is not normal schizophrenic behavior, despite what horror movies might tell you. He needs to be hospitalized. Perhaps permanently.”
“Lalonde, what the fuck are you saying?”
“This is not up for discussion. He is dangerous and cannot be reasoned with in this state.”
Thank god someone's lucid in this fic.
The silence at the end of the phone drags on for what seems like forever.
Rose spends it by logging the conversation in her "John" folder, for future reference, of course.
“Listen… I know you aren’t fond of the idea Dave, but he isn’t your best friend right now. He’s someone else, and this someone’s biochemistry isn’t susceptible to medication. You don’t have any other choice.”
Well there goes the antipsychotics idea
The phone clicks.
Rose puts her face in her hands, sighing.
He isn’t going to call the hospital.
He's going to call Ghostbusters
Your name is Karkat Vantas and you haven’t seen Egbert at the bagel shop in a while.
You've masturbated to the Sims five times in three days and you're starting to wonder if this "thinking in the second person" thing will finally stick.
Chapter 4: 4
karkat gets a hot date with a bagel and it is fuckin moe as hell
Hot damn, I'm already excited
Karkat didn’t sleep very often. Despite this, he still had an alarm clock that went off at 6:30 every morning to notify him of the opening of a certain shop that sold food he didn’t like.
Man, that's not healthy
Karkat yawned, taking off his headset and pausing his game. He’d gotten pretty far, he had successfully married Egbert Guy and currently had four beautiful adopted baby boys with him. They had woohoo’d about 48 times already. It was obviously a sign.
Then his phone rang. Karkat groaned, flipping it to see who it was. Wow, great. Sollux had texted him, lovely.
kk don’t you fucking dare god
check up on gamz right now you fucking dip2hit 2lutbag
I swear to god "dip2hit 2lutbag" shouldn't be so funny right now.
Karkat turned off his phone.
Smart man/alien/gay lobster thing
Half an hour later he was pushing open the doors of the bagel shop, prepared with numerous snarky comments to shoot at the attractive ca—oh.
“What? Again? Don’t you even fucking tell me that—“
"I want my boytoy, and I want it NOW, waaaaaaah"
The cocky asshole that worked with Egbert was working cash again today. He had his head in his hands and his shoulders were slumped, his shades pushed off his face.
“Are you seriously going to—“
“Get out of my store, Vantas. I’m not in the mood for your shit today.” He stands up slowly, placing his shades back on his face. He points to the exit. “Get out of my store or I’m calling the cops.”
More good ideas
Karkat just stands there, his mouth hanging open. He tiptoes his way out the store.
His phone is ringing again.
I thought you turned that off?
kk are you fucking 2eriiou2 i just texted gamz and you 2tiill arent fuckiing there with him.
am ii goiing two have two kiick your a22 two get you two actually do 2hiit.
ii know youre awake an2wer me.
SOLLUX I THINK THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH EGBERT
I MEAN HE SAID THERE WAS BUT I MEAN COME ON WHEN HAS HE EVER SAID ANYTHING SERIOUSLY?
BESIDES HE’S SAID SHIT LIKE THIS BEFORE JUST TO GET A REACTION OUT OF ME SO HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WAS FOR REAL
WOW I’M SUCH AN IDIOT.
kk what the fuck are you even talkiing about.
ii2 thii2 relevant two what were talkiing about right now no.
no iit ii2nt.
Karkat's mind has literally one track, and I think Gamzee's tied to it
Karkat hurriedly remembered that time the douchebag cashier guy had pretended Egbert was dead to see if there were any similarities between then and now.
I'm sure there's a few
“Hey! Where’s the other guy? You worked cash yesterday, you fucking--”
“He… he died, bro.”
Karkat’s heart stopped. “What?”
Great, more flashbacks
The guy has his feet up on the table and is flipping through some porno mag. He puts the thing down for a minute and turned to Karkat. “Yup. Got hit but a truck going 220. Shit happens.” He picks the magazine back up. “Sorry you weren’t invited to the funeral, bro. I just don’t think the rest of the guests would have appreciated you pretending to eat the circular corpse-oeuvres while letting a load of spunk out on John’s sorry sack of a solidifying body.” He flipped a page.
It's like they were made for each other
This was, of course, bullshit. There was no way that happened, Karkat thought as he made a mild choking noise and his vision started to blur.
Karkat was just about to start screaming about how insensitive he was being about his beautiful partner’s death when John opened the door from the kitchen holding a new bath of bagels.
“Hey, coolkid! You mind giving me a hand over here? Oh, hi, Karkat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Karkat ran out screaming.
When there's something strange, in your bagel shop,
Who're you gonna call?
He decided after much thought that perhaps these events were dissimilar. This was discouraging.
You're not screaming like a bitch, for one
I’M REALLY FUCKING SERIOUS HERE, DOUCHEHOLE. THIS IS A BIG DEAL.
WHAT IF HE’S HURT? LIKE, BADLY HURT?
FUCK, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
here2 a 2uggestiion.
how about you worry about the people that you actually fuckiing know.
gamzee makara you piece of 2hiit.
I'm beginning to agree with the lispy man and this makes me sad and angry
Karkat Vantas spent the next couple of minutes thinking about what he could do to alleviate the obviously excruciating pain of Egbert. Oh god, what if he was really hurt? What if
kk oh my fuckiing GOD JU2T GO.
Karkat supposed he could mull over this at Gamzee’s apartment.
His lisp tells him EVERYTHING
It took him approximately fifteen minutes to get there on his bike. He knocked on the door.
First there was silence and Karkat’s heart jumped. Maybe he wasn’t even here? However, this was soon followed by a muffled honk which was a clear indicator of the otherwise. The door opened.
“Heeeeeeeeeey, motherfucker!” A gangly man with a grease-painted face leaned on the doorway grinning listlessly at the furious man beneath him, the faint smell of pot, confectionaries, and bad hygiene wafted in from behind him. Karkat wrinkled his nose. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while! How’re you doing, best friend?”
I thought he was on crack, why is he acting like a stoner?
“Ugh. Whatever.” Karkat pushed past him in order to survey the state of the apartment. He stepped in a pie.
Maaaan, you ever seen American Pie?
“What—What the fuck is this?!” He shrieked, shaking his leg vehemently. The thing was green.
Yeah, that was a movie, wasn't it?
Gamzee chuckled casually and went to go get a towel. “Pies, motherfucker. Slime pies. That right there is the most righteous motherfuckin’ shit I have ever made. I can get so many wicked miracles into those things, you wouldn’t even believe.” Karkat looked at him incredulously.
Karkat, this dude made a marijuana pie. For gods sake, get the recipe and open up shop as the most lucrative pie shop in America.
“Wait, are you honest to god cooking pot into these things? Gamzee, how—“
He then proceded to stick his head into one that was sitting alone on a counter.
Man, when this guy eats pies, he EATS them
“You—Gamzee, get your fucking head out of there you stoned, brainless, ballsack-headed cock; you look like you’re trying to snort a pustule off of someone’s face and it is causing me to be ten seconds away from killing you and hiding the body in the most horrid of dumpsters in the least civilized of countries, I swear to god.”
Gamzee honked a horn nonchalantly.
I can only imagine the horn is his penis
Karkat gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to pull a gun out from the depths of the cosmos and shoot himself. This was going to be a long visit. The delicate smell of week-old laundry drafted up to his nose, reminding him he had a job to do.
“How the hell do you even live in this pigsty without suffocating under the weight of your own stench? Can’t you even—Gamzee you fucking—Give me that!” He swatted the pie away, not even turning to watch it splatter across the floor. Gamzee looked down at him guiltily as Karkat’s screeching reached critical levels, wringing his hands. “How am I supposed to—I don’t give a fuck about your self-medicating bullshit right now, okay? Do you fucking see what this place looks like? This is not normal. Damn it, Gamzee, it isn’t healthy and you’re not helping yourself by wallowing in your own filth. You’re going to get off your ass right now and you’re going to help me with this, and we’ll deal with…” he gestured scathingly at the pie on the floor, “…later. You got that?”
Gamzee didn’t say anything for a long time. When he did, it held the vague aura of intoxicated concern. “What’s wrong, motherfucker?”
Oh no, stoned friend picked up on romantic issues
Karkat made a series of bizarre hissing and spitting cat noises before he remembered how to speak coherently. “What? What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s WRONG is you deciding that—“
Why the cat imagery? Are you TRYING to make us remember poor Bubbles whose intestines are still on John's floor?
“Nah, that ain’t it.” Gamzee leaned in, scrutinizing his face in concentration. “You ain’t even motherfucking here, are you? You’re all up in your own head, swimming in your own motherfuckin’ miracles.” He pressed a single finger onto Karkat’s head to emphasize the location of said motherfucking miracles. Karkat blinked stupidly.
“Shoosh, bro,” Gamzee said kindly, patting the side of Karkat’s face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Just shoosh yourself and tell uncle Gamgam what's troubling your poor angry face
Karkat blinked again. Then he sighed, pushing Gamzee’s hand away. “God, I’m sorry. There’s just— a lot on my mind right now.”
“It’s chill, bro. Whatever it is, it’ll work out. Listen—I don’t want you all up and coming here if you don’t feel like it, aight? You obviously got some serious motherfucking shit up in that head of yours and you obviously gotta get that sorted out before you all up and start hangin’ with me again. You got that?”
Karkat looked away, rubbing his arm. “Gamzee, I—“
"I want to get assfucked by a dead bagel boy"
“No. Shoosh. I want you to all go and get yourself to that wicked park up on Eighth Avenue and walk around until you got your shit straight. You got that? Then you can come back.” He grinned lazily. “It ain’t a thing, bro.”
Karkat looked up at Gamzee again, and then over to the door. He paused, and then gave him a rough hug before going to leave. “I promise I’ll be back soon, okay? I just--?”
“Motherfucker, not another word. I’ll just be sittin’ here with my miracle pies ‘til you all up and get back here.”
Man, that crackhead has a decent grasp on emotional struggles.
And marijuana pies
Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are going for a walk in the park to clear your head.
Your name is John Egbert and you are going for a walk in the park to clear your head.
For real this time, we hope
John is sobbing and babbling incoherently, following Dave around the apartment and grasping at him pathetically. Dave does not change his mind.
“D—Dave… y—you don’t understand… W—wh—Dave, please-!” John is crying harder now, trying to grab at the keys desperately. Dave shoves him off.
This scene is so much better when we aren't aware of what Dave is keeping John from doing
Personally I think he's forcing him not to masturbate on the cat
“John, don’t do this, I was up all night long bleaching the apartment and burning cat hairs, there is no way in fuck I am doing that again, Egbert, it’s only until you feel better, John, fuck, John, get off of me—“ Dave shoves a bit harder than he intended and locks another window. John falls over and lays there, crying helplessly. Dave draws his eyebrows together, testing the lock on the window and trying desperately not to turn around and give in. He does not succeed.
“John, shh, John look at me,” John shakes vehemently, becoming hysterical while Dave attempts unsuccessfully to pry John’s hands from his face. “I promise when I get back I’ll unlock them, okay? This is only for a little while. This is because I messed up, alright? John, this isn’t permanent, this is only for a little while, John, please, calm the fuck down!”
Dave Strider: Professional Schizophrenia Help
John Egbert is hyperventilating and babbling vapidly while shaking his head so fast Dave thinks he’s going to break his neck.
Guilt consumes him.
“Th..there’s some pizza in the fridge if you get—“
John is clawing at the carpet, back on the ground, looking frantic and desperate and broken and god
How does one "look god"
Dave Strider leaves the apartment, trying desperately to think about bagels.
Dave knows how to handle stressful emotions better than anyone else
He uses bagels to relieve the tension
John crawls his way back to his bedroom, his entire body wracked with sobs. Dave just didn’t understand, why didn’t he understand, this was dire, this was the most important thing in the world, god, now what was he going to do, if Karkat finds out he is going to
John gasped and scrambled backwards. Karkat stepped forward.
The silence that bled through Karkat’s eyes was thick like lead, holding down John violently and dangerously, thick like lead and knives and nails. Karkat stared down at him. He knew.
You really like that lead simile
“What are you doing.”
Karkat took one step closer. His eyes were two glinting orbs, sitting wetly inside his skull. Two orbs, safely enclosed within a cage of flesh, two circles, two pin points, two dots lines arms reaching out to pull John up to face Karkat one inch away
“Speak up, John.”
John shook. “I—he—D-dave locked the windows, I can’t—“
Karkat wrapped an arm around him, his fingers petting John’s hair, casually intertwining themselves between the locks. “He locked you in, did he?”
“Is that so?” Karkat asked this quietly. His fingers winded around a particularly thick patch. John whimpered helplessly.
Karkat fisted his hand and pulled, slamming John’s face into the window pane. The window cracked in a violent propulsion of blood while John screamed, holding his ruined face.
First of all, please don't fist people's hands
Secondly, you don't open windows with your face.
“WELL THAT’S JUST TOO FUCKING BAD, NOW ISN’T IT, JOHN?”
“LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO GIVE UP, NOW THAT DAVE LOCKED A WINDOW, YOU DEGENERATE IDIOT!”
John shrieked, arms flailing trying to grasp on to some sort of handle, mouth begging Karkat to stop, tears running down his face. Karkat didn’t listen.
“DON’T YOU DARE EVER SAY THAT TO ME AGAIN, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE SHIT, YOU JUST GO AND FUCKING FIND ONE.”
John screamed and screamed, blood gushing from every orifice, unable to see because of the congealed blood on his face running down his body
And believe me, when he says "every orifice" he MEANS every orifice
worthless fucking shitbag cant do anything better off dead better off gone
“Karkat, p-please—how do I even know w-which ones--!”
Karkat smashed his head through the window.
Man you need to dump your imaginary abusive boyfriend
The instant he arrived at his destination he started to question why he was there.
Also who he was. He was questioning who the fuck he was since there weren't any personal nouns to refer to him
Karkat never really found any enjoyment in parks, due to the people that often inhabited them.
Karkat, those are homeless people.
During his few visits he rarely came across anyone he knew, and yet every person he walked near insisted on striking up an increasingly obnoxious and awkward conversation, leaving Karkat with an intense feeling of dread, praying to god he would never come across that person again.
That one person who just happened to be multiple people
This was about to change.
Who's ready for yaooooooi!
On a bench, next to the park walkway, on the far left, sat none other than Egbert himself.
Okay dude, step one: be cool
Karkat made a loud squawking noise and jumped behind a tree.
Okay, that's not exactly "cool," but you can recover.
OH GOD OH GOD HE CAN’T BE HERE WHY IS HE HERE I’M NOT EVEN DRESSED
My god, did you walk to the park naked?
Didn't you go to the bagel store before this? At what point did you get undressed??
NO SHUT UP YOU IDIOT CAN’T YOU SEE THIS IS YOUR CHANCE YOU FINALLY GET TO TALK TO HIM WITHOUT HAVING TO SMELL ANY BAGELS GO GO GO
Man has his priorities, at least
Karkat watched him. He couldn’t get that good of a view from this far away, but there was no mistaking it. There was no other person in the entirety of the cosmos with hair that stuck up that way. He took deep breaths, steadying himself.
This can't end well
SUP EGBERT YOU MIGHT REMEMBER ME FROM THAT BAGEL SHOP YOU WORK AT I’M THE ONE THAT YELLS AT YOU SOMETIMES AND ALSO CAN I BUY YOU A COFFEE ONE OF THESE DAYS WHAT IS YOUR FIRST NAME IT ISN’T ACTUALLY EGBERT RIGHT BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE WEIRD
This would be cute as hell if John didn't just fist a cat's abdominal cavity
Karkat was suddenly hyper aware of how very red his face was. No, that was horrible and stupid and this was horrible and stupid. He could do this. He would just have to walk over there and do it. He was in control.
Karkat jumped out from his hiding place, feeling very much in control. He stomped over to Egbert, hands clenched into fists.
He should have realized there was something off the closer he got to the bench, however he was way too in control at the moment to think about much of anything besides butterflies gnawing at the insides of his stomach.
This CAN'T end well
Woof woof, Egbert
Egbert positively jumped out of his seat at the noise, and when he looked up, he looked absolutely terrified. Karkat’s stomach sunk. He shouldn’t have been so forceful. He’d barely opened his mouth and he’d already messed up, damn him. Wait what was wrong with his face oh god what the fuck happened to his face
I'm sure you'll find out soon enough
“Oh god, please, I’m sorry, please, Karkat, I just, I don’t know who, they all look the same to me and please, why won’t you help me Karkat, please I can’t do this by myself!”
Karkat didn’t hear a word of this. He was staring at his face. It was cut and bruised badly, the bruises turning different shades of yellow and purple and his arms what the fuck happened oh my god
His stomach churned, he’d never seen anything so pitiful in his entire life. He wanted to hold Egbert forever and keep anything else from ever happening to him ever again while simultaneously gutting the perpetrator of the wounds. How sick and horrible do you even have to be to do this to someone like Egbert he was so
“What happened to you?” he demanded. Karkat could already feel the rage bubbling in his veins.
Son, rage is not the right emotion for you right now
This demanded vengeance. NO ONE touches his Egbert, despite the fact that he did not actually hold any claim to Egbert whatsoever.
Egbert looked at him.
He looked confused.
He opened his mouth slightly, eyebrows drawn together. “But…”
“…don’t you remember?”
Karkat blinked, trying to decipher this. Remember? Remember what? Had he been there when this had happened? Had Egbert already told—oh. Dave. Dave had already told him what happened, he just hadn’t believed him at the time. Great, now he looks like a jerk for forgetting. This was already going horribly. He had to fix this, and fast.
“Of course I remember. I was just… testing you.”
Bzzzzzzt. Wrong answer
Egbert looked at him.
Now it was going even worse.
Welcome to hell, friend
Karkat needed help, and fast. He wondered if he could discretely text Sollux and ask him for help, he was always so good at picking up girls. He fisted his front pocket, looking for his phone.
The pocket was empty. Karkat’s nerves reached new, unpredicted levels of terror. Where had his phone gone? What had he done with it? He had gotten up in the morning, he had his phone then, gone to the bagel shop, he had his phone then too, gone to check on Gamzee, he had—
Who knew pot increased your Pickpocket skill
Suddenly an idea hit him. Karkat cleared his throat. “Do you want to meet a friend of mine?” he asked, quietly resisting the urge to bash his own face into the pavement and leave himself to die.
Karkat, this is the wrongest of ideas you have had yet
“I mean, you know, if—“
To Karkat’s astonishment, Egbert looked positively delighted at this. Perhaps it wasn’t a lost cause after all?
“You mean it? You’re going to help me?”
Karkat drew his eyebrows together, not really understanding. “Well, actually you’re kind of helping me because—“ he started, trying to explain the cellphone.
"because I want to get into your pants and my friend is so stoned he won't even notice us"
“Well, yes, of course, that’s what I meant,” Egbert looked terrified again. Karkat had obviously missed an important part of the conversation while he was daydreaming, and now he was paying for it. God, he was so bad at talking to guys.
“Um. Yes. Are you coming?” Egbert nodded vigorously. Karkat tried not to grin. If Egbert saw how awful Gamzee was, he’d obviously think better of Karkat, thinking of him as some sort of charitable hero and fall in love with him, romcom style. Perhaps this was going to turn out well after all.
Hah, if only
Egbert did not seem to think Gamzee was awful. Egbert seemed to think Gamzee was some kind of angel.
This.... Was not what I was expecting
Whatever Gamzee said or did Egbert looked on with awed reverence, his eyes following him everywhere. This was discouraging.
It was even more discouraging when he walked in with him and Gamzee gave him this too-knowing look and it made him blush harder than he’d blushed in a while.
This was REALLY not what I was expecting
It was even more discouraging than that when Egbert introduced himself (he introduced himself as JOHN Egbert, John) he asked Karkat if Gamzee was special, and Gamzee replied that he was a motherfucking miracle, and Egbert (John) seemed to think that that was a completely respectable response.
It was the most discouraging of all the way John motherfucking Egbert smiled at him.
He smiled at him like he’d found peace with the world, like everything, everything after all, was going to be okay.
John is now down with the clown. God help him.
God help us all.
He smiled at him the way Karkat smiled when he was alone and there was no one to laugh at him and his stupid, stupid crush on the bagel boy who obviously had just fallen for someone else.
Karkat wanted to put his face in his hands and cry.
It's okay, there are other fish in the bagel sea.
Your name is John Egbert and tonight you are going to kill Gamzee Makara.