Chapter 1: Anonymous said: davekat bodyswitch go go go
Chapter Text
The first thing he does is comb out your hair, because that makes perfect sense in all universes. Not.
“Dude,” says your voice, which sounds significantly more retarded out of your head and you are vaguely horrified. “Why didn’t you tell me the base of your horns were this sensitive?” And then he fucking rubs one.
You grab his hands and hiss at him with your newly acquired inadequate human vocal box. “Don’t do that, taintchafe!”
“Why no-” He stops and says, “oh.”
Fuck your life and your body, but not literally. Definitely not literally.
Dave purrs out, “Well shit bro. That is definitely not a human meatstick, that is most definitely a pants snake.”
You cover your (Dave’s) face with your (Dave’s) hands. “Please never speak again.”
He continues. “How many appendages you got down there, dude? Holy fucking shitmongers, it’s like a legit party in my trousers right now. Having a goddamn rave, the neighbors are complaining, police going to show up and have us all arrested for toting minors around. But officer they just showed up out of nowhere. Too bad son, it’s to the clinker with you. I can’t go sir, I’m too clumsy, I’ll fucking drop the soap and then BAM. I’ll become a real man. A real man with real regrets.”
“If it bothers you so much, dump yourself in a pool of acid.” You take off his shades and toss them across the room because he doesn’t even fucking need them.
You expect him to start on you about property damage and sentimental shit blah blah blah but instead he says, “Hey, don’t you have this fantasy about making out with yourself? Is this like turning you on because I can totally leave if you need to rub one out. Just don’t damage the merchandise, I’m kind of attached to it.”
“That’s it,” you say. “I’m going to go stand on the roof and taunt the immortal superpowered dog beast until he catches up to us and puts me out of my misery.”
“Not with my body, you aren’t.”
Chapter 2: Anonymous asked: Karkat has read all the books, he knows how this human sex is supposed to work. But when he finally pulls down Dave's pants, he's surprised to find a five headed dragon that speaks french.
Notes:
11/2013
This prompt is rated G. Tags are #crack.
Chapter Text
“Prepare yourself,” Karkat says, very seriously and not at all nervous about anything.
Dave shifts his weight from one foot to the next. “Uh. There’s actually something I should tell you. About. Um. You know what, fuck it. It’ll be an experience.”
While Karkat didn’t really know what the hell Dave was getting at, he DOES know what humans look like naked, thanks to scientific sketches in text books and 4chan.
Without hesitation, he pulls down Dave’s pants. Then he stares. Because Dave’s penis is actually a multi-headed lizard thing.
“Bonjour,” says Dave’s dick. “Je m'appelle Jean Claude.”
“Well,” you say. “That explains why Terezi dumped me.”
Chapter 3: divisio asked: DAVE AND KARKAT GO TRICK OR TREATING
Notes:
11/2013
This prompt is rate G. Tags are #Halloween.
Chapter Text
“What did you get?” Dave leans over to try to see what’s in your bag, which you pull out of his reach.
“Same thing you got!”
He shakes his head and almost dislodges crown his brother made him wear. “You totally got more. Fucking neighbors didn’t like my shoes. I keep telling Bro they don’t match.”
You amend, “I got three Kitkats.”
“Sweet, I got-” He stops. Then he stares at you.
“What?”
“Karkat.”
“…Yeah?”
“Kitkat.” He looks like someone just handed him a crate of juice boxes. “Karkat. Kitkat. Why did I see this before?”
Oh no.
Chapter 4: Anonymous asked: karkat mixed up the draino and the cooking oil and dave has to take him to the hospital
Notes:
11/2013
This prompt is rated G. Tags include #humiliation, #shame, #hospital.(PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS ON THIS ONE)
Chapter Text
At least you didn’t drink it,” Dave says, but it doesn’t make you feel better.
You make a gasping raspy noise that sounds like a whimper and immediately shut your mouth.
“I mean, chemical burns in the back of your throat from inhalation sucks major dolphin balls but you’re not poisoned. Think of it, instead of an overnight stay, morphine, and a ‘wow ur a dumbfuck,’ you’d be all weak and defenseless and vulnerable for days.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
For lack of any better way of communicating (they took away your phone for harassing the medics, the fuckers), you flick him off.
Dave continues, “It’s going to be soooooooo quiet.” You add your other middle finger for double the insult. “We should get you a collar with a bell so we know where you are.”
When he actually shows up with a collar the next day, you put it in the Bio-hazard bin with the syringes.
Chapter 5
Summary:
Credit for art goes to affectionatetea! This was a lovely collab between her and I, based on a prompt.
6/2014
Prompt is rated G. Tags include: #jadedavekat
Chapter Text
You’re enjoying Katherine Heigl’s lovesick antics while James Marsden watches forlornly from the side when a complete stranger drops his ass in the seat next to yours, takes a sip of your drink, and says, “Hey-ho, daddy-o. Sorry I kept you waiting, traffic was having a wide-spread bitch-fit. My truck was all in a tizzy. Getting the gassy kind of anxious, if you know what I mean.”
Flatly, you say, “What.”
Another stranger sits on your other side. “Glad you could make it, though! We thought you might have left already.” She holds out her bag of sour gummy worms to you in offering.
“What the fuck,” you say.
“They’re gummy worms,” she tells you as if that’s what you were asking. “They’re sour! I snuck them in.”
“She went to juvie when she was a troubled teen,” the boy adds. They’re the same couple that walked into the theater right after you did and were your only movie-watching mates. You recognize the douchemonger by the sunglasses. Why the hell would anyone wear sunglasses in a movie theater? “Living on the wild side. We’re trying to wean her off crimes slowly, you know? From stealing children to stealing cars.”
“To stealing hearts,” she says.
The boy gasps dramatically. “So that’s where it went!”
You hiss, “Maybe you should take off your fucking shades and maybe you should get a new prescription because you appear to have the wrong fucking person.”
The girl cocks her head and her long hair practically spills over your knee. “Really? What’s your name?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m not falling into that trap.”
“But we can’t know if you’re the right person if we don’t know your name!”
“How awful! That sounds like such a difficulty to deal with. Make sure to grab some napkins to blow your nose on your way out.” You sit a bit straighter to avoid touching either of them and continue, “Now pick your underdeveloped glutes from these seats and place them on a burning nuclear waste site before I drag you there myself over sharpened rocks covered with arsenic and salmonella.”
The girl laughs. “That’s a weird combination. You don’t know anything about chemistry, do you?”
“What I may or may not know about chemical science is none of your fucking business.”
Shadey the Boundry-Ignoring Boy Wonder leans in super close to your ear and says, “C’I have your number?”
“No,” you spit at him. “Fuck no!”
“Okay, silliness aside,” Shady’s Accomplice puts in, “You just kind of looked lonely down here by yourself so Dave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t actually lonely. Because being lonely sucks balls.”
Shadey – Dave? – nods all sagely as if this was some profound statement. “Huge balls. Hairy ones with an infection.”
“Dave, gross!”
It is your Wriggling Day and this is how you meet Dave and Jade.
Later that night, at the Olive Garden, Dave insists that you reenact the scene from Disney’s Lady and the Tramp, right before you take a face first plunge into the spaghetti you didn’t order specifically for this reason. The universe hates you and Jade laughs the entire time she’s wiping off your face, joking that it’d be faster to lick it.
They add you as Facebook friends and you find that you had a noodle in your hair that they didn’t tell you about.
“It’s cute!!!” Jade tells you.
“Fucking adorable,” Dave adds.
“Really unhygienic but cute!”
“Twist it around and turn it into a birthday crown. Shit, I can do that with Photoshop. One second.”
Your only Wriggling Day gift is of a bedazzled framed photograph of yourself with a crown made entirely of spaghetti and two almost strangers falling over themselves laughing. The frame says “It’s a Boy!” at the bottom. You put it by your ‘coon anyway.
Chapter 6: [tumblr user] asked: davekat, detective au!
Notes:
11/2014
This prompt is rated G. Tags are: #detective au, #religion.(Special thanks to my moirail for the heavy inspiration for this)
Chapter Text
You dramatically slam a file onto the table in front of the groggy potato of a troll, partly because you want to wake him up and partly because it looked really cool.
To your disappointment, he neither flinches or looks impressed; he just glares at you over his mug as if to say, “was that entirely necessary?” and doesn’t even glance at the file itself.
Plopping your ass down in a chair across the table you say, “Aight, so I have a proposition.”
“The answer is no,” he croaks.
What was that, I couldn’t hear you over your bedhead, you think about saying. “It involves the Followers, and I know you are devout as fuck.”
“Oh,” he says, looking relieved. “If that’s the case the answer is fuck no.”
"Okay, but it’s a murder.”
“People die all the time.”
“It’s super duper secret and they want to keep it hush hush from the press. Apparently homicides generate bad publicity.”
“Imagine that!”
“They’re paying extra to keep it quiet. We’re talking almost triple my usual rate.” And then, because you are an asshole, you add, “How’s that kitchen renovation fund going?”
He almost throws his coffee on you. You can see him considering it and weighing the pros and cons. You weigh them yourself. Pros: injure the human in justified non-permanent way, ruin dry-clean only suit (that you look damn fine in), humiliate rich prick of a detective, not have to take a case involving religion.
Cons: Human may or may not leave (you can guarantee the latter), may retract offer of big cash (and commercial kitchens are not cheap things to renovate), waste perfectly good coffee (you’re assuming he thinks it’s good), have to clean up mess it will make.
He growls out a frustrated sigh that is basically the universal noise of “Fine, but I won’t like it.” You grin. He flicks you off and drags the manila information stack over to his side of the table and opens it.
“Why do you even need me,” he asks. “And why me? Specifically. I want details. Brutally honest ones that don’t devolve into metaphors about human anatomy or pop culture in music.”
You say, “So they hired a detective for this after murder number uno in the main temple-hive thing downtown-“
"Could you get any more offensively ignorant?”
“-but he opted out after week two because reasons they didn’t tell me because it was apparently none of my business. Anyway, so this case seems pretty symbolic because, well, I guess it’s obvious or something.”
He frowns at the file, presumably at the pictures. “I can’t believe you didn’t even pick up on that. These poses are popularized in just about every edgy drama on the grubtube.”
“The what?”
“The-” he rolls his eyes. “Fucking highblood words. Television.”
“I don’t know shit about religion. I grew up praising Lil Jon as my Lord and Savior whilst preaching the good word of Eminem to the people. I watched Bill Nye on weekends. My Little Pony Sunday nights with a pizza in one hand an entire gallon of apple juice in the other. I’m a man of simple pleasures.”
“And simple pan functions.”
“Excuse you, do you even know who Bill Nye is?”
“If you know shit about religion,” he asks pointedly, “why the fuck did they hire you for this case?”
You shrug, “I think they wanted an outside perspective. But they assigned a monolithespian to tell me what shit means and feed me religious propaganda.”
Karkat actually smiles at that. He has a really cute smile, goddamn. “Yeah? And how did that go, detective?”
“Oh my god, I don’t think he breathed the entire time I was investigating and I can’t figure out what he was talking about the whole time because it didn’t related to anything.” He snorts and you continue. “They said that if I could find my own expert that I could use them, but they have to be an active member of the Followers and professionally educated by another active member of the Followers.”
He scrunches up his little nose and says, “And what makes you think I’m professionally educated? You said yourself that a country bumkin like me probably wouldn’t know what real education looked like if I stepped into a public schoolfeeding building.”
“If there’s anything the middle of bumfuck nowhere does well,” you say, “it’s edu-macating the word of Jee-zus. Or Troll Jesus in this case.”
“Wow. Wow, fuck off.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t sitting in a religious building every week reading from some sacred text while an old fart explained what shit meant to you.”
He throws his hands up into the air. “I can’t even see your eyes!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Fine! Fucking fine! I was schoolfed in the town’s sacred hive-temple thing! Yes, the entire faculty there were registered and active members of the Followers! Even the fucking cleaning troll.”
“Sweet,” you say. “You’re hired.”
Chapter 7: [tumblr user] asked: *whispers* beast!wirt for the prompts or maybe davekat magical creatures *slithers away*
Notes:
4/2015
This prompt is rated PG. Tags are: #paranormal, #vampire, #gorgon!Dave, #vampire!Karkat
Chapter Text
Kanaya tells you that there is something a little fucked up about a half-turned paranormal hunter with a vampire roommate, but let’s be honest, humans are way out of their league here. The fact that you can never ever let any work associates visit your house ever is actually a perk. And the job itself mostly takes place at night, which is another perk. Sure, sometimes you get inappropriate... urges, but who doesn’t? You just save those urges for when you get home and Kanaya kicks your ass seven ways to Tuesday. BAM. Problem solved.
You’re immune to most, uh, European magic tricks, but anything predating Mesopotamia is a bit out of your league. You honestly didn’t figure that one out until you met the gorgon thing with the top notch glamour that makes him look like some Bob Marley descendent.
“Very well done,” you yell at him from across the stone yard. You’re getting a bad feeling about all these goddamn statues. “You still look like a fucking tool, and I still have to kill you.”
He’s wearing sunglasses, which is probably the only reason you aren’t petrified and made of granite yet. He says back, in a conversational tone that carries, “I don’t know if you know what the word immortal means, dude. Here’s an excerpt from Webster’s: no desperate freak clinging on to humanity is going to take me out. I’m practically a sacred phenomenon. I’m a community god, keeping power hungry assholes like that guy,” he jerks his thumb at the piece of 3D art you previously knew as Sam Johnson, “from terrorizing the neighborhood.”
“You’re a monster!”
“You really gotta stop talking to your own reflection in public Broseidon, it’s not all that endearing.”
Wow, a pun and a throwback to his origins, all casually mixed in with modern frat boy culture. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so worried about his fingers glancing the frames of his shades, like he’s contemplating taking them off again.
“I’m thinking of strapping some wings on this new edition and selling him as a critique on the current way media portrays celestial beings, what do you think?”
“I think someone is going to recognize him and connect you to a murder.”
He grins. “Who said I’m leaving the face intact?”
You throw up your hands. “Look, we got a call about some rogue solo werewolf eating teenagers on their way home from football games. You just turned my informant into a tombstone. Congrats, you’re contributing to the murder of innocents.”
“Uh,” he says. “Your informant was the rogue werewolf, genius. I don’t fucking objectify civilians. What the fuck.”
You say, “… Oh.” And then, “I guess this means I’m not getting paid.”
“Tell you what, if he sells I’ll give you half the commission and we both walk away self satisfied douchecanoes with hero complexes.”
A week later you get a check in the mail for a sum triple your usual rate and a ticket to a local museum exhibit on Greek mythology. Scribbled on the ticket is, “Fucking educate yourself.”
Chapter 8: [tumblr user] replied: davekat FAKE MARRIAGE/DATING
Notes:
5/2015
Prompt is rated PG. Tags are #slurs, #homophobia, #family issues.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You’d have never thought you would be thanking the stars for having Bro as a guardian, but then you friended Karkat on Facebook and you learned what it’s like having a supportive, encouraging, overly religious family was like and it was horrifying. No status goes unremarked on, no tagged picture goes unliked (which explains his 45 minute rant about your photography), no high score on Candy Crush goes unchallenged by some distant relative.
It’s fascinating really. You could probably switch your major to anthropology and write your senior thesis on the dynamics of the Vantas family, using only direct sources and quotes. Screencaps included. Be cited for decades to come in the study of the occult family style. Mafia mentality in relation to blood. What close circuit communities do for the introduction of modern ideals.
Or, you could just make a bunch of shitty comics about it and laugh about it with Karkat over cereal at 2PM on a Tuesday.
The most surprising thing was that he wasn’t out to them yet. Someone as blatantly and proudly queer as Karkat Motherfucking Vantas just doesn’t keep his mouth shut around homophobic ignorant shut-ins but then his great aunt comments on his status, “LOL ITS OKAY SWEETIE, YOU’LL FIND A NICE GIRL AND START YOUR OWN FAMILY. JUST MAKE SURE SHE’S A VIRGIN!! LOL”
And you’re sitting there imagining them all wearing filly collars and wooden shoes because these people are living in the fucking Dark Ages. Karkat being choosy about a girl’s virginity? Any of his friends being actual virgins?
Every holiday is a brand new ridiculous 4chan-esque story in family time nightmare meals. His second cousin eloped with a priest of a “conflicting” religion. His uncle on his father’s side is in a fight with his wife because she found out he’d been having coffee with a group that accepted a gay couple. There’s a cousin you all know as The Cousin who is apparently trying to make everyone more open minded about topics and is apparently Making It Worse but explaining liberal topics in the Worse Goddamn Way Possible and honestly. You’d rather take on Bro than deal with that level of bullshit.
Needless to say, you can kind of understand why Karkat is a bit crazy.
You, Rose, and John all tend to invite him to holiday meals with Mr. Egbert six months in advance to allow him an excuse to get out of these fucking things. Mr. Egbert gives stern looks for swearing but everyone would be wearing nothing but crop tops, booty shorts, and rainbow thigh highs and his smile wouldn’t falter. You all tried it once too.
But then, one night, Karkat almost kicks down your door looking like he’d just been steamed with some lobsters and looking just as happy as the lobsters would be.
“Sup.”
“I’m going to come out to my entire fucking family as the gayest shit-talking liberal atheist anti-Christ figure they’ve ever had the misfortune of inviting into their prison of a community and you’re going to pose as my apathetic unconventional douchelord boyfriend.”
You say, “Okay, two things: first, what the fuck brought this on?”
His face scrunches up and you can see him reliving the exact thing that brought this on. “They’re disowning my fucking godmother for admitting to being bi.”
“Dude.”
“Yeah, I know. What’s the second thing?”
“No,” you say.
“Yes,” he hisses. “You are the only person who won’t spend the entire fucking time giggling your ass off or trying to put your gross chalk stained hands all over me and you have enough patience to legitimately say ‘dank meme’ at every picture in every fucking photo album.”
You’ve always wanted to say “dank meme” at a photo album of a family who had no idea what a meme was. Damn him, he knows your secret.
Which is how you find yourself sitting at a table across from The Cousin on Thanksgiving.
And it’s somehow worse than Karkat described it.
Notes:
I've made the executive decision to not make a full length fic for this one. But if you feel particularly inspired by it, then by all means, please continue it (and send me the link, I want to read it).
Chapter 9: [tumblr user] asked: Davekat and idk some weird werewolf thing {karkat?} and some weird vampire thing{dave?}
Notes:
5/2015
Prompt is rated PG. Tags are: #paranormal, #vampire!Dave, #werewolf!karkat, #based off Patricia Briggs version of these creatures.
Chapter Text
Cool things about being Dominant: regular boring humans will unconsciously get the fuck out of your way and will totally just go along with what you ask them to do.
Shitty things about being Dominant: you stand out to just every other supernatural creature like you’re covered in blue LEDs and they are moths; they all just seem to bump into you and then act all surprised when you aren’t happy about seeing them. Whoa! You have better things to do in your life than humor a bunch overpowered assholes???? Amazing!
You can’t even go to fucking Perkins at 11PM without being heckled by some weirdo hungry vampire.
“You must be new,” you say. “Because I’m hungry.”
He continues tapping out a beat quietly on the booth table across from you, where he oh so smoothly slipped in without a sound and has been twitching since. “That is some weird coincidental shit right there man, I’m fucking starving. But what the hell does that have to with me being fresh meat? I mean, yeah, I know I’m hot shit and recognizable and that a lot of the older fucks have this thing for blossomed flowers or whatever metaphor they like but-“
“No,” you cut him off because he’s picking up speed. “I mean that you don’t fuck with people like me before they get some goddamn meat in them. Separate bills,” you add to the server who just walked up and looked a little nervous. You probably are radiating some “pissed off and about to get violent” vibe.
“I got meat,” the guy says. “Eight inches of goddamn meat.”
“Right,” you say. To the server: “Sirloin, 14 ounces, rare.”
“Uh, that’s going to cost ex-“
“Fries on the side. Thanks. Bye.”
The server scuttles away as fast as possible and you pay attention to the dumbass vampire again. You can’t even get a word out before he goes off again.
“Man, 14 ounces is a lot of fucking meat, can’t really compete with that. That was rude as shit though, I mean dude you can’t just treat service workers like that, some of them have kids and school and ten other jobs and shit. Bro told me that dominants are pretty fucking tense assholes but you seriously need to chill the hell out like be totes calm, enter the fro-zone, take a breather in the freezer. Hey, that sort of rhymed-“
You say, “What the fuck is the point of this? You’re up early for a night crawler, and you want me to become some sort of menagerie bound sheep for your convenience?”
“A what bound what now?”
“A-“ you pause. “Are you solo?”
“Hell yeah, solo, remixed, and motherfucking Miss Independent all up in this neighborhood.”
“The local seethe is going to kill you.”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Why you think I’m so hungry? Dude, you ever heard of The Knight?”
Vampires are paranoid fucks who believe that saying the name of an evil (and, let’s face it, they’re all evil in some way) attracts its attention, so they come up with titles for each other. The Knight is some asshole running around eliminating problematic seethes that jeopardize the vampire way or some shit. You really try to stay out of the politics.
You sigh. “Let me guess, you’re The Knight.”
“Man, you are sharp. The sharpest. Really goddamn fucking smart.”
“Go away,” you tell him. “I’m not attaching myself to some over-hyped undead assassin, especially an overly hungry one who could drain me.”
He finally stops moving to look at you. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but you’re immortal.”
“Unlike you, my regeneration doesn’t take the price of a single dried husk.”
“Okay look,” he says, sounding a bit breathless. “Look, I just blew up a fucking building, dude, I really would appreciate some high class power potent red wine just for the road. I won’t even chat you up in your dreams or anything. It’s just. Hot damn son, you smell like you got some flushed veins that could make due to be a little less stuffed, you get me? And I don’t even have to waste energy putting you and keeping you in thrall. Win-win.”
“Is your dick staying in your fucking pants?”
He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “It only rises to the occasion if you ask nicely.”
You cannot believe you are considering this.
“I’ll pay for dinner,” he says.
Welp. You are a college student at heart. “Fine, but I’m ordering dessert then.”
He gets twitchy again. “Holy motherfucking shittanks yes, fuck yes. Good dog, best friend.”
“Whoops,” you say, annoyed. “You lost it. Canine jokes are off limits. Too fucking bad for you.”
“God fucking dammit, you fucking anthro-boggart!”
Chapter 10: Anonymous asked: What about Latino human karkat with a heavy accent thinking Dave treats him weird because of his accent but really Dave is like?????marryme!?????
Notes:
5/2015
Shoutout to ZingDev for giving me the translations! Especially so last minute.This prompt is rated PG. Tags include: #slurs, #racism. The link is in case you don't get the reference. It leads to a song on Youtube.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sollux says, “There’s another loser coming over. He lives in the building and he’s more terrible than you are this game, so he’s going to co-op with us on this mission.”
“Por el amor de mierda,” you say in your native tongue, before switching back over to English. “The only person better than me at this game is you and Vriska.”
“People,” Sollux corrects, like the asshole he is.
“Persons. Peoples. Motherfuck homosapiens.”
Sollux raises his eyebrows at you. “He’s a troll.”
“Appearance?”
“… Did you just say a pear dance?”
So this is your first fucking week in the grand and overrated United States of Shitspewing America. You’re in the state of Texas, no less, where all the terrible stereotypes were born and raised and fucked a bull every day since they started growing pubic hair. What a magical place!
You’ve already been told by complete strangers to go back to Mexico and your accent doesn’t carry over text, so Sollux has become completely braindead and insufferable since you’ve met him in person. Pear dance. Why the bug infested hell would you be talking about pear dances?
“A-peer-ance,” you say slowly. “Looks. Physical… being. Su lenguaje es innecesariamente complicado y espero que eres infeliz por eso.”
He rolls his eyes. “No, like. Internet troll. L-O-L memes, piss you off because it’s funny, type of troll. He’s going to piss you off, KK.”
“Everything pisses me off,” you tell him.
“I know, you won’t let me forget it.”
There’s a knock on the door and Sollux goes to get it. You’re expecting some white overweight kid with a buzzcut and a rodeo hat but Sollux appears again with an Asian hipster in a Pokemon shirt and some ridiculously goddamn defined biceps, what the actual fuck and why is Sollux friends with teenage 90s Jackie Chan.
“KK, Dave. Dave, KK. Don’t kill each other in real life, I want my deposit back.”
Dave says, “Hola, amante.”
You say, “Konichiwa, boke.”
A hand flies up to his chest and he almost drops his laptop (which is a fucking Mac). “Ow, bro. Harsh. I’m hurt. Hurt by your words and your stereotypes. I mean, kudos for not going with baka, and the anime language is a serious burn, but if you wanted to really impress me you would have used like je-su up nuen nom or toejora. Or hey, even a fuck you would have worked and I would have been like oh man, sick insult. Totally original. I’m proud of how far you’ve learning American.”
Wow, he talks a lot. And with a Texas lilt. You suspect he hasn’t been to… Korea (well, it sure as fuck wasn’t Chinese he spoke) since being able to hold up his own head. You look at Sollux, who grins at you, then back at Dave.
“I don’t actually care if I insulted you or not, just shut up and sit down and don’t fucking talk to me.”
Sollux makes a noise that sounds like a snort. Dave leans in closer to you. “I’m only about 80 percent sure you said actual words.”
“Yes, I spoke your stupid English!”
“Nah man, that wasn’t American. I only speak American.” He makes a crow noise for some reason??
You yell, “Odio este país y cada ciudadano que piensa Inglés Americano es un regalo que les hace muy jodidamente especial.”
“That wasn’t English,” Sollux announces, sounding super smug like it was some kind of accomplishment figuring that out.
Dave nods, “Mexicans are hilarious.”
“I’m from Argentina.”
“Cool, I’m from Not Japan, located right next to Not China Either, right next to I’m Motherfucking Murican Born And Raised, in central Houston where I spent most of my days. Chillin’ out maxing relaxing all cool, and shooting up some AJ ou-“
You cannot believe this.
“So Mexican,” Dave begins, while you’re waiting for the opposing team to get their shit together.
“If you call me Mexican one more time I will rip off your head and sell it to cannibals.”
“Can I call you Madonna?”
You glare at him suspiciously. “… Why Madonna?”
He says, “Don’t cry for me Argentina-“
You have to throw you headset on the ground, shove your computer to the cushion next to you and take the two steps it takes to get to him to grab him by his shirt.
He whispers, “I kept my promise, don’t keep your distance.” And you just about scream.
“Trolololol,” Sollux says.
Notes:
TRANSLATIONS
Por el amor de mierda. = For the love of shit.Su lenguaje es innecesariamente complicado y espero que eres infeliz por eso. = Your language is needlessly complicated and I hope you are miserable because of it.
Amante = lover
Boke = unaware, clueless
je-su up nuen nom = A pitiable unfortunate
toejora = Go to hell
Odio este país y cada ciudadano que piensa Inglés Americano es un regalo que les hace muy jodidamente especial. = I hate this country and every single entitled citizen who thinks American English is a gift that makes them super fucking special.
Chapter 11: [Skype User]: dave and karkat go to visit the white house except karkat mixes up “president” and “santa claus” and dave does not bother to correct him
Notes:
5/2015
This prompt is rated G. Tags are: there are no applicable tags.
Chapter Text
It’s definitely one of those “when it rains it pours,” situations. Alternia is Earth’s shiny new extraterrestrial ally and their shiny new Empress is supposed to meet your shiny new President of the USA in the shiny new White House that was built on the old ruins of the old White House. The game plan was: Jane goes as an as-needed translator slash bodyguard slash wonderfully well rounded and charismatic ambassador and you go as exclusively a bodyguard (because you are not well-rounded or charismatic) to look out if Jane gets lost in translation.
The Empress of Alternia shows up by herself, as is traditional of their culture, metaphorically blows everyone away, which is nontraditional of their culture (they like to be literal, or so Jane tells you), and this is somehow supposed to create an unbreakable bond between your two species forever and ever, everyone lives happily ever after, the end.
So of course Jane gets the flu.
And then she gets a subtly hurried email that the Empress can’t show up either because of “unforeseen business” (translation: bigger deal than meeting your soulmate monkey leader friend for dinner in accordance to the treaty, teehee later guys) but they’re sending over another trusted diplomat to represent the species, which Jane tells you does not mean that this person is trained, just on good terms with the Empress and apparently useless for the “unforeseen business.”
So basically everyone is fucked. But you are fucked with an especially large and bumpy pole, and there’s a good chance all the lube is gone.
And trolls are big, okay. They are big and kind of scary looking, and the troll you have to introduce yourself to in the foyer is not a giant zombie version of the clown from IT, thank fucking god, but it’s pretty obvious he’d be more comfortable running through the room punching people out than gently shaking hands with the tiny mammal.
He knows enough English to know when he’s being threatened. He does not know English enough to actually be able to speak it properly. So. Fun times all around.
“Okay, Str’der,” he hisses at you at some point. And you know you’re going to have another 5 minute discussion that basically boils down to, “that is a fake plant, not an artificial fabricated aesthetic generator.”
“Yes sir,” you say.
“What you call, [alien word], big guy, big deal, suit, and be on best behavior ‘round?”
“Uh,” you say, intelligently. The very best in Earth communication, it’s you.
“Quickly!”
“That’s kind of vague, man.”
Behind you, someone says, “Captain,” (not to you) and the troll stands at attention and you have to turn around quick. Oh shit, it’s the President.
“Santa Claus,” the troll says, holding out a hand and-
Big guy, big deal, suit, be on best behavior.
Well.
He’s not wrong.
The news the next morning speculates whether or not the Alternian ambassador calling the President Santa all night was some sort of coded insult and you receive a 5 page, wonderfully translated letter in your email inbox from the ambassador in describing just what an ignorant unprofessional failure of a sentient creature you are.
“How’d it go,” Jane asks you, miserable, on her way to the bathroom.
You shrug. “It was like Christmas.”
“… That well?”
You turn up the news so she can hear it.
“Dave,” she says, “you’re fired.”
Chapter 12: Anonymous asked: AU where person A gets so high on post-surgery painkillers, they forget their dating person B. Davekat?
Notes:
6/2015
This prompt is rated G. Tags are: #hospital, #drug mention.
Chapter Text
You leave for one fucking weekend out of the whole year, and Dave’s appendix decides that then is the best time to combust horribly in the middle of a test, and you’re halfway across the country at a conference preaching to a bunch of bored politicians and educators that standardized testing is bad fro both students and schools.
Unbelievable.
You miss 3 phone calls; one from Dave (along with the text so i might be dying ilu dont let john see my internet history), one from an unknown number (the hospital), and one from Rose. Rose also texts you, He’s alive, don’t blow all your money catching a flight home. Terezi seconds this notion.
You text Eridan instead. SO ARE YOU STILL WHINING ABOUT ALL THOSE MILES YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE IF YOU DON’T USE THEM UP?
uh yeah wwhy
I NEED FLIGHT HOME QUICK.
So you get on the first flight back to Texas, still in your suit, take a cab from the hospital to the airport, and immediately spot Rose getting coffee in the cafeteria.
“For fuck’s sake,” she says when she sees you. “What did I tell you about blowing up your bank account to get home?”
“I didn’t fucking blow up anything, I just owe Eridan some odd favor.”
“In some ways, that’s worse.”
“Where is he?”
“You make it sound like he’s in trouble.”
“He’s in a hospital. By definition, he is in some sort of trouble.”
She leads you back to Dave’s room, where Dave greets you with uncharacteristic cheer.
“Yo, broseph!” he grins. “Loving the suit, very suit. Are you my new nurse?”
Rose sighs. “I’m not entirely sure what he’s on, but I couldn’t stop them from calling up Bro and now he has a room to himself, a stupid amount of drugs in him, and three different doctors.”
You put your suitcase down and collapse in a chair next to him. “How are you feeling, you emotional disaster?”
Dave pats out a beat on his thighs, like he’s introducing himself in morse code. “I’m fan-freaking-tastic, uncanny, a million buccaneers in a canon with a spoon.”
“… Right.”
“This is some service man, first I get like, an appletini and a fucking fried McDaddy dub-“
“I got him McDonald’s and some apple juice,” Rose tells you.
“-and then I get some hot mom action-“
“The nurse was very bodacious and doting,” Rose interrupts again.
“And now I get hot single dad action, this is the best hotel. Never let me leave. I hope this this Hotel California.”
You say, “I’m not a dad, or single.”
He looks upset. “But the hair?”
You, for once, took Dave’s advice and did you hair for your presentation. It’s not a huge mess like it normally is. “It’s just mousse. As soon as I take a shower I can put this hair style behind me and never look back. Also, this is what we in the sober plane of existence call ‘professional,’ not dad.”
“Hot professional, here to service all my professional needs. Wink. Wait, I didn’t mean to say wink.”
You roll your eyes and kiss him on the cheek. Because he’s a huge nerd and doped up enough to see to the astral plane, apparently.
He gasps, and for a second you think he’s going to start making jokes about PDA or whatever but he says, “You said you weren’t single, don’t go playing on your beautiful wide for me man, I’m not worth it.”
Rose snorts, “Oh my god.”
“.. Dave,” you say. “Dave, we’re dating.”
Another gasp. “No!”
“Yes, amazing, I know.”
“I get to keepyou?”
“Well,” Rose chimes, “I’ll leave you two to catch up on your marital status.”
“Whoa, wait a gosh darn fuck-tootin minute, we’re married?”
Whatever favor Eridan is going to ask of you in the future, it’s definitely worth it.
Chapter 13: davekat, 46 [nanny/single parent au]
Notes:
6/2015
Prompt is rated G. Tags are: #baby!Dirk.
Chapter Text
You really cannot concentrate on your work with a kid in your lap, happily swapping at the keyboard with his pudgy little fingers and squealing with delight when the computer with an error sound. You’re coming up on a deadline and your script isn’t even half done. You have to keep stopping to feed the little dude, or change his diaper, or teach him how to count. Whatever it is that is important to do for babies.
You call up a few people, who call up a few more people, and they all agree that you need to either get married (unlikely) or a nanny (more likely).
“Dirk has to like her, of course,” one mother says to you. “Oh, don’t you, yes you do! Yes you do!” She says that last part to Dirk, wiggling around in your arms and having learned that sticking his foot in his mouth with get the attention of every person with even the vaguest maternal instinct in a 3 block radius to pay attention to him, he does it as often as he can. Just like you! Except… literal.
Okay but you’re still going to be around, you’ll just be busy, so this person also has to put up with your shit. Your lawyer laughs and laughs and cackles that she knows just the person.
So shame on you for doing the gender role assumption, you were totally expecting an old lady to show up at your door, but instead you get a guy who can’t be older than you.
“Uh,” you say.
He sticks out his hand, purposefully. “Hi, I’m Karkat and apparently you need a nanny. I just happen fit that title.” No smile, no adorable tilt of the head and polite laughter, all serious business and maybe a little impatient?
“Hi,” you reply, taking his hand. “Uh, Dave Strider, up and coming film write.” You lead him into the house and show him Dirk, who’s playing with Barbies and Marvel action figures. “This is Dirk. He’s two, he likes Blue’s Clues and attention, and I need someone to watch him while I work on my scripts in my office.” You gesture to your office.
“Well, duh,” Karkat says. He makes you show him the kitchen, and Dirk’s bedroom, and any rooms he’s not allowed in. Dirk pulls on your pant leg and demands “car,” which you explain means he wants to color. You leave them to the large stack of Crayons and coloring books you left on the dining room table and go back to work.
So of course Dirk takes to him right away.
Any qualms you have are negated by the screaming laughter you hear in the other room while you’re working, or Dirk obediently reciting words from flash cards that Karkat brought over to help teach him how to talk. Not to mention the house becomes mysteriously clean.
The day before your deadline you’re doing pretty good, having the script complete and doing editing work on it, and you peek out of your office to see what exactly you’ve been subjecting Dirk to for this whole time.
What you get is Karkat grinning from ear to ear as he says, “Do you know what the hell time it is?”
Dirk yells, “Noooooo!”
“Is it tickle time?” Karkat wiggles his fingers like a menacing Disney villain.
Again, but laughing, Dirk yells, “nooooooo!”
And Karkat scoops him up with a really fake growl and wiggles his fingers under Dirk’s shirt, while Dirk shrieks with laughter and squirms around and it’s honest to god the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Welp,” Karkat says when he’s done, “looks like you’ve survived the deadly tickles. I think this victory deserves a snack. What do you want?”
“Oran!”
“Orange?”
“Or-ang!”
“Orange it is.”
Your lawyer calls you after your script is accepted. “So how do you like him?”
“Dirk told me to fuck off yesterday,” you reply, but even you can hear the hint of pride in your voice. A full, comprehensible sentence that would make a teacher swoon with scandal.
“I told you that you would like him.”
Chapter 14: [tumblr user] asked: *chinhands* Johnkat #43 [falling in love with their best friend’s partner au]
Notes:
6/2015
(This will also appear in the johnkat prompts)
This prompt is rated G. Tags are: #johnkat, #poly relationships, #3rd person POV.
Chapter Text
John believes in honesty when it comes to actual, like, super emotional issues that could ruin lives and relationships and shit. You don’t try to cover that up with anything, especially when it comes to his super close friends who he’s known and talked to since basically forever.
So he does the brave and impulsive thing, and instead of asking Rose or Jade or, hell, even Vriska about it, he goes right to the heart of the problem. Uh, the left half of the heart at least. The half John’s more familiar with. The problem might have two hearts? (Insert time lord joke here.)
Long story short, John goes to Dave first because Dave is super chill about these things and gives pretty good advice after he gets through his obligatory dick jokes.
“So, I have a problem,” John tells him during a co-op playthrough of Black Ops.
“I’d hate to break this to you,” Dave replies, “but you have more than ‘a’ problem. You have multiples. A plural amount of problems.”
John rolls his eyes. “I have a specific problem.” And when Dave doesn’t say anything right away, he continues, “With Karkat.”
“I thought you two got along pretty well.”
“Uh, yeah. We do. Really well. Like, super well, Dave. Unbelievably well. We get along like Boy Scouts and fire.”
Dave has to pause the game and looks at John carefully. “So. You finally hit puberty.”
“Wow, fuck you.”
“And now you got a crush on my louder and cleaner half.”
“Okay,” John says, holding up his hands in defense. “Here’s the thing, I don’t want to break you two up, okay? You’re adorable, you’re both happy. Watching you two interact is like watching videos about kittens falling over laughing babies. But it’s kinda interfering with my brain when we all hang out.”
Dave says, “This sounds like the plot of some not-so-terrible romcom, where you’re vouching for both dudebros to get the heroine. Hmmm. Now the question is, does one of the dudebros find an alternative or does it become a threesome?”
John does some mental backtracking. “Uh, no offense Dave but- how do I put this? You’re pretty much my best friend ever and making out with you would be weird, and not in a good way.”
He nods, “I can respect that. Not too keen on your tongue being in my mouth either. Man, I could never eat peanut butter again and then I’d just have to weep miserable tears of bitterness into my pillow every night and send you pictures of the water marks. It would be hella awkward.”
“I didn’t know you were that big of a fan of peanut butter?”
“Peanut butter is a godsend, who the fuck do you think I am?” Dave unpauses the game. “We should be having this chat with Karkat around. It’s officially his business too since he’s kind of the filling to our no homo browich.”
“I guess,” John mutters, not really enjoying the idea of having to deal with Karkat’s reaction to this too, which very well may be basically, “oh, so NOW you’re interested??? After ten fucking years?? How about absolutely not!!”
“Just as a warning though,” Dave says, “Karkat’s poly and when he’s really tired he will attempt to engage me in conversations about your pecs, so don’t freak out if he’s like really into the idea.”
“… Should I, like, wear a muscle tee for the occasion?”
“Now that’s just unfair to both of us and if you do that I’m banning you and your chiseled Greek demigod chest from this apartment until you get on our weak and frail level again.”