Title: End This
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Karkat/Jade, John, Gamzee
Beta: flamingsword
Warnings/Notes: AU, mild gore, off screen violence, angst, major character deaths
A/N: Wow this fandom has eaten my brain. Based off this gallery/#/d388qd0
Summary: Karkat finds John first.

"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder" - Octave Mirbeau

Karkat finds John first.

His think pan screams that this is wrong. That John -

That John -

That John shouldn't be lying in his own blood. Candy red is pooled around him, smears over his clothes and skin. Bile rises in Karkat's protein chute at the bright sickening red spread across light blue.

John's God Tier jegusfuck.. He shouldn't -

"Karkat?" John gurgles.

Karkat almost loses his grip on his sickle. He drops to his knees beside John. Maybe there's a chance - but fuckass he doesn't even know enough about human biology to know where to start.

John shakes his head. "Jade," he gasps out.

It doesn't escape his notice that John doesn't say who did this. As if Karkat couldn't guess, didn't know.

"She can handle him," Karkat says with more force than he means. But the human girl he's flushed for is probably killing his Moiral - he's allowed to be a little short.

And John's dying.

John shakes his head again, though the movement is weak and barely noticeable. Karkat's bloodpusher clenches painfully. "She's the Witch of Space," he says, though he's not sure if he's even speaking to John.

John whose eyes are empty and sightless.

A high pitched wounded sound fills the corridor.

Karkat's already on his feet racing towards Jade's respiteblock, before he realizes the sound came from him.

When he enters he realizes what John had been trying to tell him. He realizes what he knows about Jade.

Gamzee is kneeling beside a body.


He sees her dark hair spread across the floor. He sees how Gamzee is painting with her blood.

She held back because Gamzee is his Moiral. His bloodpusher feels ready to burst. He wants to scream, to rage, because she's dead. For good. Because of him.

Karkat's chitinous windhole refuses to let sound pass. He'll never see her smile again. Never hear her laugh. He'll never get to tell her...

Gamzee doesn't turn around as Karkat approaches from behind. Or when he raises his sickle over his head.

Karkat's face is wet.

His sickle is wet.