Humanstuck erikar drabble in which Eridan is gay and Karkat is not. Inspired by rps with vie! :>
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More madoka drabbles
Madohomu.
————————————————— In this timeline, Kaname Madoka is not your friend. In this timeline she is…
She is something else.
She holds your hand under the table and kisses your cheek before she leaves for home. She calls you as soon as you come home and you talk on the phone for hours. When it is far too late, she tells you goodnight. She adds that she loves you, and she takes her time. The words are not excited or rushed. The words hold something important.
In this timeline you are not fighting for a friend.
You walk all the way to her house some afternoons. You wait outside her door. She runs out and hugs you and invites you inside. You accept and in her room you talk about everything and anything, even nonsensical matters. It gets late and she insists you stay. Your half asleep banter gets sillier and sillier
At half past midnight she kisses you on the mouth. You kiss back after a moment. She kisses you again. You kiss her again. You tell her you love her and that you never want to leave. You kiss until you’re tired.
The next day, you’re caught off guard. She accepts the contract. She dies within a week.
In the next timeline she asks you what your name is. You forget for a moment how many times you had to tell her.
In that timeline you did not lose a friend. You lost a lover.
Fic about Marik waiting for Bakura to come home
Slightly inspired by this fic: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9165015/1/Headaches
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super super gay and not even good fic i just wrote
i figure, there’s no fics in this tag anyway. why not.
based partially on canon events? Some time after Sayaka has her little meltdown or whatever.
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SEQUEL?
Sequel cause someone asked. To uh. lemme find the link lonk.
http://gabbyv23.tumblr.com/post/45086625237/someone-take-writing-away-from-me-please
That one.
THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE. ALL INCLUSIVE BUT IT HAPPENED SO.
if the pronouns are fucked up blame retaking english 2. what the fuck man. so many its and thats and whos. dammit english class. *shakes fist*
—————————————————————————————————————————————-It was all but forgotten the days ahead. The thought wouldn’t plague his mind, but, it plagued mine. I’d catch myself staring into space when I should have been listening to him speak. I couldn’t think straight for once. Often, when distractions present themselves, I would have no trouble focusing back on my goal. This, however didn’t seem to be one of those times. It was such a rookie move it made me sick to my stomach.
“Bakura? Bakura! Are you listening to me?” he’d call and I’d jerk my attention back to him startled confusion. “Huh? What? Yes! Yes I was you said… uh… something about our strategy?” He’d give me this pout and shake it off, but this time he insisted. “Bakura, what is wrong with you?”
I looked at him, at his perfect violet eyes and pretty lips and… no. I swallowed and shook my head. “Nothing. Nothing at all. But, there has been something on my mind.”
“Yeah? Well? What is it!?” He puffed out his cheeks in frusturation and put his hands in his pockets.
“I…” I looked around and bit my lip. Oh fuck being coy, I’m an actor and a thief for pete’s sake! My eyes returned to him. “I’m finding that our partnership is not working out. I’m afraid we are going to have to part. It was nice working with you, Marik.”
His eyes widened and he gasped. “N… Bakura!” His pout then returned. “What do you MEAN it wasn’t working out? This was perfect! We were so close to defeating the Pharaoh! Why would you quit now!?”
“I never said I was quitting! I said I was leaving you. If that means competition, I don’t care. This isn’t working and it’s not going to. Don’t take it so damn personally!”
At that he grabbed my collar and pulled me closer to glare at me, teeth bared. I caught his wrist, but I didn’t pull back. He snarled at me, but then… sighed and let go. “I thought… I thought we were friends.”
“I don’t have friends and I don’t need them either, quite frankly. Sorry if you ever came to that con…”
There he went again, tugging at my heartstrings with his own batch of misery. My words fueled his heartbreak and he had the look of an abused animal, not of temporary sadness, but the kind that didn’t seem to ever leave. Fuck. That’s when I felt truly weak…
“…clusion… Nevermind. Forget it. Forget everything I just said.”
Then he looked at me in confusion. He butt his head into my chest and he… he told me that…
“I love you…” Three words muffled into the fabric of my shirt. Still I heard it as clear as if it were spoken otherwise. His arms wrapped around my waist and he squeezed tight. He rubbed his face against my chest and let out a sigh that looked as if he has been holding the breath in all week.
I said nothing.
He looked up for a moment to see if I would say anything, but quickly returned. I couldn’t tell whether or not he expected it, or wanted it to be said. I didn’t know to be caring. I forgot how. I did however, like a lot of things, know how to pretend. I took his face in my hands and kissed his forehead, just as I did the night before.
He smiled. I guessed it meant he was just fine with that. Still I was unsure if he meant romantic or otherwise, but it didn’t matter. I took false comfort in the fact that I made him feel safe, though I wasn’t safe. I was dangerous, dark and twisted and intangible, yet he kept me here like I was warm. He kept me here like my existence meant anything other than unfinished business. He loved me.
That love was a greater burden than I had ever faced before. I kept it though, out of interest more than anything. I kept it out of selfishness.
My words never matched or mirrored his, because it wouldn’t have meant anything. Even lies had to mean something, and that too would be useless.
Yet somehow some mornings he’d muse that I had said it in my sleep…
Someone take writing away from me please.
Thiefshipping. Bakura’s POV. You know the drill.
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Too much.
You’re so angry with him. You’re so furious you can’t even think straight. You can hardly remember what he did to make you so angry but you think if you did you’d get worse.
You slump down on the couch, less wary of your strength due to anger and nearly break the chair in half. Yes… You need to destroy something. You swear you left a few mechanics in the other room. You get up and turn to go into your work room but you hear a knock at the door.
It’s rain season. Who could that be? It’s pouring. You swallow up your anger and make your way to the door. You open it and the hinges rip a tear. It’s… him.
His head is down. Wet black and violet locks cover his glasses. His skin is tinted with his blood and you can tell he had been crying. Maybe it was just the rain. He sinks his hands into his pocket and a shaky breath leaves his lips.
You slam the door shut and punch the nearest wall. Your knuckles bleed.
It isn’t fair for him to hurt too. It isn’t fair. You walk to the sink and turn it on to clean your hands. And there it is… A pang of guilt. You sigh and return to the door, carefully opening it.
He’s three steps down the pavement. You can tell he was walking the slowest he could manage. He doesn’t even turn.
“Eridan.”
He sniffles and whimpers quietly. He still doesn’t turn.
“You can… Come inside. If. You want to.”
Finally, he does turn. He walks carefully, on his tiptoes and wipes his feet on the sidewalk before the door. You move over and he walks inside, shivering when you close the door. He’s pitiful.
“Sit down. Do you want some tea?”
He sits on the couch, wary of the bend. He doesn’t mind. He keeps his arms and his legs stiff as if a single voluntary movement would start a volcano. He does the sniffling thing again and nods. You’re still mad… You’re still mad but he makes it so hard.
You go to brew the tea and finally he talks. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m so so so so so sorry…” You can hear him start crying again.
“I know you are.”
“I’m a terrible person…”
The tea is set up to brew so you sit beside him. “You aren’t.”
“Yes I am! This is the fifth time we’ve fought. For what? Because I ranted on about something stupid that made you mad? It’s always my fault I’m a bad bad bad person.” He leans onto the other side of the couch. “And that’s why nobody should love me.”
“That’s… not true…” You frown. You’re mad, but you still love him. Why does this keep happening? Why do you fight?
He says nothing.
“I do.”
He doesn’t believe you. He sinks into himself further.
Hesitantly you reach over. “We can fix this. We can. We have to try.”
He flinches. “I… I love you so much I don’t know what to do…”
“I love you too…”
The tea kettle goes off. He sits up and you turn the heat off.
