Somewhat Clear

Title: Indigo Moon
Fandom: Homestuck
Pairing: Karkat♦Gamzee, Karkat♠Sollux
Rating: NSFW
Warning: Character Death, MURDER, gore, disturbing
Wordcount: 860
Note: partecipa a #WRPG @ maridichallenge per i prompt "rosso" e "indaco".
Summary: But Gamzee didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of "for the pity of everything that's bloody, please be careful when I'm not around", and one evening he came to Karkat's hive completely covered in his own blood.
Of course Sollux was over, that evening, because the laughing gods hated Karkat, and of course Sollux, like it was expected from the good snotty saltlicker he was, flipped his shit because his kismesis' moirail was a mutant.


When Karkat found out that Gamzee was a mutant, he almost had a panic attack.

Then he wondered how on Alternia Gamzee had managed to survive, since the unbelievable idiot was the least careful nookstain on the planet. Karkat was definitely going to die of worry before his first moult, at this point.

They were rolling on the beach near Karkat's house, enjoying a warm night and the pinkish light of one of the moons, and they were laughing and being generally happy, when he found out, because Gamzee had rolled over a particularly high mound of sand, and had fallen right into a thornbush.

He hadn't noticed the weird color right away, because it was still fairly dark, since the green moon hadn't come out yet, and so he had just dragged him to his hive to clean the scraps and kiss them better. As soon as the lights were on, the candy red was unmistakable, and Karkat had felt sick.

It was such a stunning, beautiful color. He almost had felt like scooping a little on a finger and paint the rich details on the high general uniform he was sketching on the far wall of his respiteblock. But at the same time, he knew that his Gamzee was in danger, and not even Karkat's rank was going to save him, if he were to be caught.

Gamzee didn't even seem to be upset. Why would he? He trusted Karkat. They were moirails.

They never said the word, but it was what they were. Karkat knew from the tiny diamonds Gamzee traced on his skin while they were snuggling in his dumb pile of horns. He hoped that Gamzee knew he felt the same. Karkat was so bad at serendipity and all that crap. It didn't matter how many romcoms he collected, the stuff didn't make much sense.

He had thought he understood kismesis, maybe, but that was just because it had to do with blood, and Karkat knew blood very well, very intimately; he knew the texture, the viscousness of it, the differences that came with different blood colours and types. He knew how to mix it, he knew how thick the layers had to be to give the right effect on a concrete wall. He knew how hard it was to wash away.

He had watched many and many black rom-coms over the sweeps, because the hateful bantering had always sounded so fun. He was so jealous of the couples on the screen, of their being at each other's throats and snarled; the loud clicking of caliginous arousal deep in their chests never failed to make him wet.

And Gamzee, drooping eyelids and slurred words, had always been so confused about that, he didn't understand what Karkat found so exciting about being hurt and hurting the others.

Back then, Karkat had been viciously mean; of course he wouldn't understand, he was a lowblood, everybody knew that lowbloods were less keen to black romance because they were less aggressive than highbloods. On top of that, Gamzee was a mutant, his system was probably fucked up to hell and back.

And Gamzee hadn't been upset about that, either. He had been all sleepy happy and agreeable, all dopey smiles and "you're so smart, palebro", and Karkat had hated himself so much he had wanted to rip his own face off.

So, Sollux. He had liked Sollux, at some point. He could remember when he had met him online for the first time, and he was a goddamn blistering sack of bulges, but then they decided to meet in person and his nook had literally winced in sympathy because the motherfucker was pretty hot. He was still a blistering sack of bulges, though.

And wasn't that luck. Sollux pailed like he thought that Alternia was going to explode and it was Karkat's fault, and Karkat couldn't fucking believe himself, because this kind of thing didn't happen outside of crappy movies and he had never hated anyone so much in his life.

But Gamzee didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of "for the pity of everything that's bloody, please be careful when I'm not around", and one evening he came to Karkat's hive completely covered in his own blood.
Of course Sollux was over, that evening, because the laughing gods hated Karkat, and of course Sollux, like it was expected from the good snotty saltlicker he was, flipped his shit because his kismesis' moirail was a mutant.

So Karkat snapped.

It had been a fairly clean job, if truth had to be told. Karkat was almost proud of himself, in a distant sort of way.
He almost didn't remember when he had decaptchalogued the sickles, and he definitely didn't remember the slash itself. But it was clean, and it was efficient. The way it was taught to painters, how to slice the flesh so that the blood could be used as colour. A nice cut through the neck, almost painless.

Sollux's head looked almost nice, sitting on the couch, right next to Gamzee, who had fallen asleep after Karkat had cleaned him up.

But, maybe, it was just shock.