#clams davekat
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[Homestuck] a late Valentine’s doodle plus old sketches of Dave I never posted or finished
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Runaway~Davekat
INFO
-requested by a wattpad user
-merstuck
-bloodswap (ish)
-karkat is feferi's brother
-this was so fun to write, thanks for requesting!
-ftm dave
-dave is hispanic and so is karkat's human form
TRIGGER WARNINGS
-abuse
-runaway
-misgendering
***
Your feet are so sore from running through the glass filled streets. Maybe you should have snagged some shoes before running away from your Bro, but hey, it's too late now. Up ahead, you see a beach and decide to take a break. At least none of the glass cut your feet. You make it to the shore and plop down in the sand, the coldwater feeling great on your feet. It's safe here. No risk of being drowned in puppet ass or dragged up to the roof for a beating. You decide to close your eyes and just let the sound of the waves lull you to sleep. That is until something grabs your foot. You jump and retract your feet from the water. The city night sky and your shades make it hard to see, but you can make out a humanoid form, "Dude what the fuck? Who are you? Why are you in the water this late at night?" The form is silent as it pulls itself out of the water completely, then it looks like it's taking a big breath, "Maybe you should ask yourself that fuckface, this is my beach! What are you doing sticking your nasty ass human feet in?"
You wince at the form's loud tone, "Human?" You hear a thud and suddenly a lump separates you and the form, "Is that a fucking tail?" "Yeah nookwhiff, and if you don't shut up it's gonna pummel you into the ground!" You take off your shades and stare at the long, fuschia tail, and follow it up to the torso of an angry guy with grey skin, small nubs on his head, fangs hanging out of his mouth, orange and black eyes, and freckles softly glowing pink. The guy sighs and he starts shrinking. Your eyes go back to his tail, which is quickly changing to a pair of legs, not grey like his face but around the same tone as your own, clearly Hispanic. You look back at his face and see it has also changed into a more human version, eyes now fuschia. You notice that he is wearing a form-fitting black dress with pink lines framing the chest and narrow sleeves that don't touch the shoulders. Atop his head is a small gold tiara with a pink gem in the middle.
"I'm Karkat Peixes, brother to Feferi Peixes empress of the seven oceans, and you are on my beach." You are too confused to say anything and Karkat huffs in annoyance, "C'mon fucker, answer me. Why are you on my beach at the ass crack of dawn with no shoes." You snap out of it and hurriedly answer, "I ran away. My feet were sore so I dipped them in the water." You grab your shades from the sand and put them back on, putting on the stoic face that has been beaten into you through the years. Karkat frowns, "Who the fuck wears shades at night? You look like a douchebag." You stand up and brush off your pants, "I guess I'll leave your beach alone then." You turn to leave but stop when Karkat calls out, "Wait. You, uh, ran away right?" You cross your arms, "Yeah, why?" Karkat furrows his brows, thinking, "Just... stay here!" He turns and wades deeper into the water, then sticks his hand in. A few minutes later (Why are you even staying, Bro could catch up with you at any minute), a large clam raises to the surface and pulls up to the beach, opening to reveal the deck of a ship.
Karkat turns back to you with a grin, "Wanna hang out with me?" You were about to refuse, but in the distance, you hear a familiar voice, "Elizabeth Strider get your ass back here!" You quickly nod to Karkat and follow him into the ship. The top closes and you breathe a sigh of relief, "Thanks. I'm Dave Strider." Karkat starts walking to a hatch, "Well Strider, welcome aboard. Let's get you some food, you look like you're gonna fucking faint." You laugh dryly, "Yeah. Hey, do you have apple juice?"
#dave strider#ftm dave strider#davekat#karkat#karkat vantas#karkat peixes#merstuck#bloodswap#Bro Strider#fuschia karkat#eridan's oneshots#eridan's oneshots requests
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eternal
davekat prompt from @alyxnightshade
“I’ve been watching you for a few days, you know.”
The voice comes like out of a dream. Quiet at first and unbidden, then steadily growing to normal volume. Part of it rings with a universal truth that you can’t quite put your finger on.
Part of it is terrifying and sad, and makes you want to cry.
But mostly, it feels like... family.
You jerk around in your desk chair at the sound of this voice, managing to topple over entirely. Your whole person spills out onto the floor, and you whack your head into the edge of your desk with entirely more force than is probably necessary.
That being said, you’ve suffered worse.
This won’t even be a concussion.
“Wow,” the voice says again, this time condescending and unbelieving and you’ve almost almost gotten used to the feelings it evokes.
Fuck, that hits like a whammy.
When you roll over and lift your head, cradling your chin in your palm, you see him.
And immediately turn to the trash can and vomit.
“Oh, get ahold of yourself, meatsack,” he says to you, tired.
Once your stomach is empty, you reply.
“Fuck you.”
“Creative,” he snorts.
And you’re too weak to flip him off.
It wasn’t a concussion that made you barf.
It wasn’t the fact that all you’ve eaten for three days is Cool Ranch Doritos, and it wasn’t the fact that you’re both dehydrated and sleepless from staying up all night (half in watchful vigilance, half to talk to Jade).
No.
It’s the fact that when you looked at him, you felt the impact of the eyes of the world, all at once. Leaning there in your bedroom window, he took up every relationship you’ve had, and every one you will. Every touched hand, every smile because of another person, every laugh and cry and abandoned baby.
Everything else you could add in there. All at once.
And above it all, was a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging and permanence.
“In all my millennia since Humans first crawled out of the mud, I think you’re only the third to not pass out,” he sighs. “I wonder if that means something.”
A sense of permanence, and a sense of an endless obligation.
“Who the fuck are you?” you ask him.
His eyes are plain, like yours. Red, like yours, but also... very human.
They’re easy to look at.
Something about the eyes being a window to the soul washes over your brain, and you have to put a fist up to your mouth to curb another wave of nausea.
When he opens his mouth, his teeth are pointed.
Your binder strains against your ribs.
His hair is deep black.
Stars shine from the wrinkles in his skin, from his dimples when he laughs, open-mouthed, at you for your question. Just now, you notice that his skin is pitch, like night. Eating up the surrounding air.
The streetlamp that should be haloing his head is almost... shining through him.
“I am your god, shithead,” he growls, once he’s done opening his jowls like a jackal. “Well, one of them, at least.”
You’re... what?
Is he fucking with you?
But in the midst of your doubt, you can’t help but believe him.
It... echoes veritas into your mouth and rings your teeth.
“Okay,” you say.
You sit up fully, now, and wipe the spit from your mouth.
“I’ve been watching you, Dave,” he says.
And you feel like throwing up again when he says it.
It’s not unusual for you to feel watched.
You’re nineteen, now.
Past bro, out of his house. In therapy.
But you still always feel like you’re being watched.
No, what this ‘God’ is telling you makes you want to throw up, because.
Why would a god be watching you? Are you gonna die soon? Are you going to be a sacrifice? Does he have... something else to tell you?
“No, none of that,” he says, and the guy brushes the stardust off of his sleeves, before walking the few feet over to plunk down on your bed. Did he just fucking read your mind?
“No, I was watching you for a long time. I watch all of you,” he says. And when he sits, everything that was unsettling about him before, settles. His skin isn’t almost black anymore, it’s just dark. All of the feelings, all of the bonds, they just go away. All of those babies smiling and being born and the mourning of a million simultaneous deaths.
“That’s not creepy at all,” you say, and you get another laugh. He’s got a little snub nose, and it wrinkles when he smiles.
“It’s my job, I manage... relationships. All of them,” he informs you, and oh. That’s so much to comprehend.
“So you’re the romcom police?” you ask, and he makes a suffering face at you.
“No,” he sighs. “It’s more like... I facilitate the creation and survival of your kind. Through bonds. Interpersonal relations.”
“Oh.”
You rub your hand across your forehead.
Your computer pings.
You’re talking to a god, in your bedroom, of your sixth-story Boston suburb flat.
Okay, now you might really throw up again.
“So why are you here exactly?” you ask him, and attempt to rise to your feet.
You only make it so far before you’re tipping over again.
He catches you by your upper arm.
And your head is no longer hurting, your nausea is gone, your head feels steady, your breathing is easier, and.
Whoa.
The touch is the most soothing thing you’ve ever felt. It’s better than pot, better than a hug from Rose, better than having a really cathartic therapy session. It’s like the most comfortable that you’ve ever been, and it’s just the one touch.
You lean into it, unthinking, but blindly scrabbling for that sensation as much as you can. It gushes into your soul, over your skin, prickles your nose and makes you want to burst into the ugliest, snottiest tears.
And then it’s gone.
The god is standing a foot away from you, and you’re sitting on your bed, now, and the night air is billowing peacefully through your window.
A lotus flower of happiness is turning over in your chest.
“What was that?” you ask, no one in particular.
The god sits on your bed again, this time a good foot away from you.
“Sorry, I couldn’t... help myself,” he says.
And it’s quiet.
A motorcycle zips by.
The train passes, and you hear the sound of the whistle almost shake your windows for the seventh time today.
“At least buy me dinner first,” you choke.
He snorts.
“Well, I have no money,” he says. “But I can give you my name.”
You remain quiet, trying to register everything. You feel... not healed, mentally, but vastly repaired. Hopefully his god-cleanse didn’t wipe the meds from your system. That would suck.
“Karkat,” he tells you.
And holds out his hand.
It’s normal, calloused on the writing fingers and nails a tiny bit long. Dark skin, hairy knuckles. Big. Warm-looking.
Comfortable.
Hesitant, you hold yours out as well.
But just before touching it, you flick your eyes up at him.
“You gonna roofie me again?” you ask.
He rolls his eyes. “No.”
So you nod, taking his word for it, and take his fingers into yours.
His palm is warm, like you thought it would be. But not sweaty at all, not sticky. Perfect. Comfortable.
And no supernatural roofie this time.
Like he promised.
“So why are you here?” you try again, and this time you don’t look at him.
You can feel that Karkat’s not looking at you, either. His legs shift, and one of them crosses the other.
“You’ve fascinated me for pretty much your whole short life, Dave,” he tells you. And. That’s something.
“Fascinated?”
“Yeah,” he confirms.
You wait for him to elaborate, and when you glance at him, he seems lost in thought.
Well, he’s a god. Maybe you should have offered him something to drink. Or maybe a ritualistic sacrifice of your body. It’s not like he’s not attractive enough.
“Ignoring that last thought, however appealing it sounds to let you attempt it,” he starts up again, and your face nearly catches aflame. “I don’t require a sacrifice. Sometimes I just like talking to you all.”
“Ah,” you say.
“You in particular, right now. I’ll sometimes pick a subject and look at them more than others.”
“Okay. Creepy.”
“Yeah I know. But you’re... fascinating. Remember when I said that, idiot?”
He’s gruff, and you want him to hold you again.
You’re already jonesing for a hit of that peace.
“You had a... fucked up childhood,” he says, then. And you clam up. Almost shrink away from him. Having a stranger mention it is eerie and unnerving. “You had a fucked up childhood, an abusive and often absent guardian, and yet. You still sought friendship. You managed to flounder your way to normalcy.”
You’re quiet. The way he’s saying it, it sounds like... pride?
Like frustration, but pride. Praise.
Awe.
“And besides that, you turned out to assume your gender,” he continues. Still with that pride and awe and fascination. “And you’re bisexual, or whatever the term for it is nowadays. And you’re comfortable.”
A...
Oh.
“You’re remarkable, Dave.”
Something swells inside you. Remarkable.
“Back when I was... back when humanity first started,” he says. “I was rough, cold. I was cruel and indifferent. And then I saw your kind develop love. It was violent, it was dark for a long time. But love, was there.”
He sounds like he might cry, and you look over at him.
Karkat doesn’t have tears in his eyes, but there’s a croak in his voice.
“And so I waited. And the love spread. And people sought it out.”
You feel overwhelmed.
“It was slow, I assure you. But humanity found that love, and so I helped them prosper. I helped them spread. And now, things are prospering pretty well alone, with just a nudge every now and then. There’s still so much cruelty in the world.”
He sounds so sad.
A rush fills your chest, like the beginnings of a panic. But he speaks again, and it’s soothed.
“But it’s the propensity for love that keeps me here.”
You fidget.
“And... despite the utter stupidity of your species, and the shit that you were handed on a plate when you were born, you have made a life of love for yourself, Dave.”
It hits you like a truck.
“And I am so proud of you.”
Then, all of a sudden, his voice is once more filled with the voices of millions, the sensation of being loved, and the pride, and the hate and anger and happiness and sadness and just so much that you can barely stand it. And it stops.
His hand takes your chin, and he leans in.
The kiss he presses to your mouth is gentle, delicate, caring, loving, incredible.
All at once it’s romantic, platonic, sexual, loving, caring, hateful, mournful, sad, upset, like a daughter to a mother, like a cat licking a kitten’s nose, like a caress, like a punch to the gut, and.
He’s gone.
And you wake up, on your bed.
The sun is shining.
And you didn’t even get to ask him any questions.
But you know he’s there.
And he will be.
#davekat#davekat fanfiction#homestuck#my short fics that I write#abstract gods#emotional hurt/comfort#minor depictions of vomit
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Grrrr. I really really love Homestuck but the fandom became so toxic after a certain point. I'm a hardcore GamKar shipper but am given a lot of hate for shipping it because "It's abusive, unhealthy blah blah blah" by people who are DaveKat shippers. What's interesting is that the clam that they hate GamKar because it's abusive but then turn around and ship DaveKat. Like Karkat is an emotionally and verbally abusive to people and Dave is an abuse survivor.
Like the hypocrisy of DaveKat shippers astounds me. I sometimes enjoy DaveBro shippy things but knowing that Bro was completely abusive to Dave. It's the hypocrisy that bothers me so much. Gamzee is a child whom was left to his own devices for months on end never being told not to eat certain things. While Dave was tormented daily by Bro. I personally don't like DaveKat because I don't enjoy it. But to sit there and say your ship is abusive but mine isn't is an ongoing problem.
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[Homestuck] the sillies…
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[Homestuck] long time no davekat 😳
#clam draws#homestuck#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#clams davekat#clamstuck#my art#they still make me so soft
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[Homestuck] davekat commission 😽❤️
(For @ chhan163 on instagram)
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pls draw davekat smooch. maybe giggly smooch
giggling kicking my feet rn
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Pls may I humbly request Davekat sharing a blanket on the couch
Wow it’s been a while
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[Homestuck] davekat au commission for @relaxxattack :)
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spare some davekat art? im starving (T⌓T)
Missing the boys…
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Godtier Davekat please?
Sketchy godtier for u
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Could you draw some Davekat please??? Maybe like some scenes from Doc Scratch's School for Supernaturally Gifted Adolescents since I finished reading it (I loved it, discovered it because of your art of it)
Drew the chapter where they get attacked in a museum 🙏🙏🙏
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Just wanted to say im new to homestuck, very late to the party i know, and in my tumblr browsing ur art of dave and karkat has really stuck out to me. Love how squishy looking you make them guys, and the expressions are perfect 👌
Aw ty 🥺 they r very special to me I love drawing em
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I need my daily dose of Davekat and I was wondering if you could draw a jealous Karkat?
P.S- I love your art
does this even count if it’s you from a different timeline
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Oh my god it’s Mermay can I get Mermaid Davekat
Some time last year I brainstormed a Little Mermaid au with Karkat as Ariel and I just- mermaids 🥺
Here u go :)
Sorry It isn’t as good I do not know how to draw mermaids at all
#also my arm hurts lol#homestuck#clam draws#davekat#clams davekat#clam answers#dave strider#karkat vantas#clamstuck#mermay
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