HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

[caliginous]

Characters: Karkat Vantas (AU) and YOU
Setting: Everywhere! Specify plx
Format: First
Summary: Karkat ate chocolate.
Warnings: Coconut chocolate. There will be skeevy flirting in here, and probably some form of mind control or manipulation. Also murder. He will try and kill you when he's done. If you want a different chocolate, go ahead and specify in the subject.

[Karkat hadn't been feeling well all day.

Since he had made the mistake of getting breakfast, he hasn't been able to get the sweet taste of coconut and chocolate out of his mouth. If there was one thing Karkat hated, it was sweet foods. The taste on his tongue was making his skin crawl, making him feel much warmer than he rightfully should have felt.

Or maybe it was something else. Even the Thief of Heart wasn't quite sure what was disturbing him to the point that his fingers felt like the were tingling. The feeling was moving through his limbs as the day went on and he was strangely alert. Nerves. Had to be nerves. Considering who had just arrived in the Tower, it was no wonder really.

Either way, Karkat began to pick at his own lip with his spider-like fangs, tongue sliding across them in thought as he rounded the corner.]

Comments

[shoosh]

[ yeah, he just kind of pulls a defeated face. he's a lover, not a fighter. that and terezi would probably kill him if he tried anything and as fun as that sounds... the fuck are you supposed to do when someone calls you on your threats? ]

Move.

[caliginous]

[normally, so is he, but the chocolate just tastes so damn horrible.]

If you insist.

[karkat moves alright, but probably not in the way his double might have wanted. you should probably be more specific next time. knowing that he will probably fight back or bolt the second he releases him, karkat keeps a stiff hold on his chest and presses his lips to his doppelganger's, forceful and commanding.

he's not going to stop there. his claws grow warm, an almost syrupy sort of warmth seeking to seep through the mutant's veins and spread throughout his body in an attempt to relax him into the kiss. his head fills with the sound of the other's blood pulsing through him, mental talons hooking into any feeling of hatred and attempting to inflate it.

more.
don't stop.
too slow.
failure.
not good enough.]

[shoosh]

[ it's becoming more and more evident that foresight is something karkat has a lot of trouble with. even when it's himself he can't discern the reaction to his actions and wow, that's kind of pathetic? too bad he hasn't got time to think about it before his much hated double is punching him in the face with his mouth, which turns his thoughts into a jumble of innuendos and for the half a second he's got, he's so glad he hasn't got a chance to humiliate himself.

but then the hate hits him and he's dizzy with emotions he doesn't want to feel; he moves a hand that he insists to himself he's using to push away but instead uses to pull closer, twists it hard into karkat's collar, nails digging into the skin beneath the fabric; skin that houses blood that should be his but isn't, blood that laps his eight times over because no matter what he does he's still a gutterblood, still a mutant and he presses closer too hard, almost puts his teeth straight through his own double's bottom lip. because lack of foresight, lack of control; because he's not a leader and he never really was. ]

[caliginous]

[karkat bats much better when he's on the black team, and so all the nail digging does is pull little half-moons of cerulean up from under the skin hiding it. a deep, throaty growl unearths itself from his chest, complimenting the sudden race of his heart, the speed of the pulse beneath his skin, which he has suddenly acutely become very aware of.

in addition to that, karkat's spider-like fangs will fight for the other's lip in an attempt to keep his double from ripping a huge hole in his own. the scent of the mutant overwhelms his senses and slowly but surely, karkat begins to become keenly in tune with his adversary's heart rate...how quickly the blood is flowing.

and just how red it will be when he drains it out of him.

he's torn between two very intense desires now. the desire to spurn hatred and the desire to brutally murder the karkat trapped in his claws.]

[shoosh]

[ it's probably best that bluekat keeps all thoughts of maim and murder to himself; not that redkat doesn't appreciate the advances (god does he ever appreciate the advances), but being torn to pieces isn't on his list of things he wants to happen today. then again neither was `make out with yourself in the hallway` and look how far that got him.

( though let's be honest, `make out with yourself` was always, always high on his list of aspirations. )

on instinct he growls right back, through his chest and up his throat until it filters down to a hiss out under his teeth but he still can't pull away, doesn't dare to stop because all he is is this great big ball of need right now. that, and something a lot, lot blacker. ]

[caliginous]

[eventually, bluekat does release redkat's shirt, but only to exchange the grip and move it to the other's hips instead. they migrate upwards, beneath the mutant's shirt to carve deep rivets into his skin. everything about the advance screams black intent, but his squeezing just a little too hard.

his hands start to shake, a breath catches in his throat. its getting harder and harder to push that strange bloodlust that suddenly aches in his spine, burning his blood like liquid fire.

karkat's breath turns husky, angry and spiteful. oh how he would love to break him down right here and now, but the desire is being overridden by the painful lash of murderous intent. painful enough to unearth a flinch or two that he can't suppress.

if his doppelganger doesn't push him off first, his nails will seek to hook themselves deep in the skin on his chest.]

[shoosh]

[ he panics well before it gets that far.

there are many things that karkat "my-blood-color-is-a-secret" vantas has never been good at and physical touch not initiated by him is one of them. call it being careful, call it trauma from being stabbed so fucking much, call it 13 years of worrying if today was the day somebody was going to kill you, but he just can't do it. which is why despite the sickly something that tears into his head, the pounding headache that still screams don't stop, he jerks back the second he realizes he's bleeding something fierce down his sides.

which is also the second he unhooks his sickles from where they're crossed over the back of his pants and wraps the blade around each of his double's wrists, heart still beating a mile a minute because ok, even from an alternate universe he still wants to make out with himself. ]

Go. Leave, we're done.

[caliginous]

[Karkat is jerked out of his stupor momentarily when he notices the way his double is moving, how suddenly his emotions switch from hatred to fear. The cerulean starts to chuckle, apparently not at all threatened by the weapons, though he doesn't push the subject. He simply holds still where his mutant double had forced him to stop, spidery fangs poking out of his lascivious smirk.]

We've only just begun.

[He wiggles his fingers without lifting them, talons already lightly coated in that disgusting mutant hue. Not enough. He needs more. He needs it to be spilled across the ground--]

It was never a secret from me, Vantas. None of it ever was.

[Those mental claws seek to hook themselves into the part of the mutant that seeks to defend himself, invisible hands laying over Redkat's own in an attempt to keep him from striking out at his double. Bluekat doesn't bother forcing removal. That's not what this is about, after all.]

[shoosh]

[ he's experiencing so much emotional whiplash he wants to throw up. he's antsy, nervous and agitated, still fighting the urge to punch bluekat in the face with his mouth. he hates himself for not being able to decide on a course of action and his hands tighten around his weapons though he can't use them, but most of all he hates his fucking cerulean shithead of a doppelganger. it isn't like past and future karkats where the only things they have over him are knowledge; this is worse, this is different; he's got the entire hemospectrum on his side.

karkat is having a hard time feeling sure about anything and it sucks. he wants to run but he doesn't, wants to fight but he can't. he wants to but he can't and he isn't sure if it's because maybe he doesn't want to after all.

so he does what any self-respecting mutant would do. stands on his toes, loosens his grip on his weapons and punches his double in the mouth with his face. it's six straight sweeps of built up hate and he can't handle himself right now. ]

[caliginous]

[That's much better. It overrides the initial 'KILL' instinct, though it doesn't erase it completely. He smirks triumphantly behind the horrible hatesnog. When his double's hands slip away from his weapons, he seizes the opportunity to reach down to snatch at his wrists, seeking to pull them up and pin them flat against the wall.

Then and only then does he return the gesture full force, teeth seeking purchase on his double's lips. He's definitely not giving a fuck about whether or not he punches a hole in his lip doing it.

After getting him nice and involved in his little stunt, Karkat will seek to disarm his doppelganger swiftly.]

[shoosh]

[ he hates his life. he hates his life. he hates his life. he hates his life.

but he hates karkat's more.

the worst thing is that the fucker has the audacity to restrict his movements. he feels uneasy, so uneasy and it isn't until he hears the dull clang that he even realizes he's defenseless, weaponless. everything is moving so fast he swears to god he'll throw up in bluekat's mouth, don't test him. (he contemplates doing it anyway, because when you're making out with yourself you only think sexy thoughts)

he doesn't even care anymore, making fierce attempts at attacking his double's lips with his teeth. let him shred them, let terezi notice, see if he fucking cares (salt in the wound, don't think about her, don't think about her; he can't help it). in his enthusiasm he nicks his own lip and it's a red flag of a reminder he never wanted. ]

[caliginous]

[Somewhere along the line, cerulean mixes with cherry mutant swill. Despite using it as an insult against his double, Karkat really doesn't seem to care about the fact that he's locking lips with an abomination to trollkind. All he knows is that he hates this fucking toolbag more than anyone he can think of. He wears his face without actually owning his face, he has a disgrace of a blood color that he's forced to be associated with, he's widely known by a good majority of his own kind to be the 'alpha' Karkat...what wasn't there to hate about this guy?

The clang of the fallen weapons reminds him of what he's supposed to be doing. Rather than bother trying to reach for them, he seeks to break the kiss without care for whether or not he tears his lip open even further. Both hands release Karkat's wrists and seek to snap themselves around his throat if he's not quick enough to catch him.

Hopefully, he is. Otherwise, he may find the life being constricted out of him very rapidly. Judging by the somewhat blank expression he's wearing, its almost as if someone had hit a switch.]

[shoosh]

[ as a self-proclaimed romantic expert, he can feel the difference between black affection and murderous intent. he can feel it in the way his windpipe folds under bluekat's hands and the lack of air already aches. aches in the way he digs his nails into his doppelgangers wrists with enough intent to leave deep gashes. less malicious than survival.

he almost gives up, goes limp, let's karkat do whatever the fuck he wants because he already has everything, but the terezi in his head tells him to stop being a wiggler and he does, kicking his mirror square in the stomach because bluh bluh, huge dick. ]

KJSDHLFSGFHK

[caliginous]

[The cerulean's breath is kicked out of him in an instant, causing him to gasp sharply and half-collapse when the other's knee comes up to incapacitate him. Karkat stumbles back briefly, but it doesn't take long for him to recover and chase again, swiping his claws blindly in an attempt to grab something, anything that he can use to throw his double to the ground. Maybe down the stairs if he's lucky.

He hasn't forgotten about those sickles either. Right now, he merely wants the other half of him to be as far away from the weapons as possible.]

winks

[shoosh]

[ fuck his sickles, he's legging it. there's another two in his room anyway, he'll survive. the great thing about being two feet tall is that he's harder to catch and it definitely works in his favor. l8ter sucker. ]