Author: warlghh PM
Terezi has some time to herself to remember Karkat. Karezi sadstuck, written early in the morning and i don't write much so don't expect it to be that great.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Romance - Terezi P. & Karkat V. - Words: 1,143 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 2 - Published: 07-31-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8379420
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(a/n: ok so I guess it's pretty obvious that this account is about dead but I saw a post on tumblr yesterday that might be some of the saddest sadstuck that I've ever seen. And I ended up writing this short poop early in the morning. Karezi is my otp and i'm sorry this isn't that good and that it's not invader zim because I know that's what most people really follow me for here but yeah. I draw mostly and I don't write much. This was driven almost entirely by my love for karezi haha
have this thing and excuse my terrible writing because I don't write much at all and excuse any mistakes and also im really bad at titles
One last thing, if you don't know where the characters in this are from, they're from homestuck! Its a very good webcomic)
You're lying on a dusty, squeaky couch that is groaning under your weight and staring at the ceiling. The room is tiny. You feel as though you've lived for an eternity and you still feel like a child. You can just barely hear the sound of your slightly ragged breathing, and you know that right now, you are alone.
You can so easily remember him. It feels so far away and so long ago but you can remember every detail and piece like yesterday. Really it wasn't all that long ago. His soft, messy licorice hair, that gunpowder sweater. His smoky pants and his pale grey skin. And of course, the orange nubs that sprouted from his skull. He was short-tempered and so angry and short but you had never cared because you...what was that word Dave had mentioned? You had loved him-love, that was the word. He had been so angry yet so caring, so grumpy and rude yet so sensitive. You were different from him. So different. You were the one with the red glasses and eyes that burned as red as your feelings for him. You were the one with pointed, conical horns and teal blood. You giggled and laughed and grinned all the time. And you definitely had fun pissing him off. He would scream obscenities at you and yell but every time you knew he didn't mean it. He still cared for you. And it didn't take you long to realize that you cared for him, too.
You slowly sit up, pushing up your pointed sunglasses and rubbing your dead crimson eyes as you do. You feel so tired and you want to sleep, even though you haven't done anything. You've wanted to sleep a lot lately. But you just remove your translucent red sunglasses and hold them in your right hand while you stare sightlessly at your lap. You can't hear a sound save for the faint, almost inaudible sound of your breathing. Normally you would be sniffing and around and trying to 'see' your surroundings but you don't feel like even trying to do that.
As you shift a bit more, you remember what you are wearing and remember that your shirt is sitting in a wrinkled heap on the floor on the other side of the room. You're wearing his sweater, which is something that you've been doing a lot lately. You know that it's probably not good for you and it's just making you feel worse but you don't care now. You like to wear this worn, cherry scented garment because then you know you can't forget.
But you know that you couldn't ever forget him. He just meant too much to you.
You're surprised to feel something wet running down your cheek and dripping onto your thigh. As you shiver, you realize what it was and rub your eyes again as you make a useless effort to stop what's already coming. Before you can make it stop, you can feel the tears falling into your lap and making you shake slightly.
Had he been here and seen you like this, you know he would have his thin, warm arms around you and he would be doing his best to murmur comforting things into your ear, desperate to calm you down. For once his anger would be gone and replaced with concern and maybe fear. He would have been wiping your tears away with a calloused finger and pulling you into his lap and combing his fingers through your short, dark hair with an uncharacteristic amount of patience. He wouldn't have left until you were better. But you know that he's not here and he can't do that and it just makes you cry harder.
You think about how no one had known about his blood. You weren't supposed to know but you with your keen nose had easily figured it out. You could see why he had concealed it, though, and he still thought that it was unknown by you. When you brought it up, he was afraid. You could tell he didn't trust you to wait. But then when you tried to reassure him, he left a shy response. A simple heart.
And then you started to think that maybe you two could pull off a matespritship.
After the chaotic game was over and there was downtime and time you think, it hit you that he wasn't even on the hemospectrum. What did this mean about his lifespan? Were you going to outlive him by dozens of sweeps? Even though he was being frustrating and he was being difficult then, you were still afraid, because a part of you still wanted that matespritship with him. And it happened. You two were finally in a quadrant and you were happy and you knew that even though he didn't seem like it, he was happy too. You knew how selfish it was, but even though neither of you brought it up, you hoped his lifespan was even longer than that of a sea dweller with Tyrian blood. You didn't want to have to live your life without him. It was a stupid dream, you later discovered. He died at what felt like such a young age to you but you knew you should have seen it coming and you shouldn't have felt betrayed when it happened. After all, your blood was much higher than his. But you had to wait forever, until you died, to meet him in a dream bubble. You didn't want to, because you loved him too much and you weren't ready to wait.
All you had left of him were your memories, the scents that were ingrained into your mind, and the dirty sweater that you were dampening now. You couldn't believe that you could still smell his blood on it. You certainly weren't complaining, though. That smell always comforted you.
Your name is Terezi Pyrope, and you miss your matesprit more than anything.