Oil and Watercolor by robinfaipods read by dedicatedfollower467

The problem with soulmarks is when you give one much less vivid than you get. Damian knows that pain very well. A platonic soulmark AU where you leave colors on each other's skin the first time you touch.

Bad Aftertaste by pentapus read by GoLBPodfics

Jason swung the side of his fist into the wall, denting the plaster and releasing a puff of white dust. He couldn't keep his head up. It weighed a hundred pounds. “Oh, yeah, this looks great,” Dick said.

Rescue by pentapus read by frecklebombfic

“What did you give me?” Dick fell over again which was a bitch and half when Jason was trying to shoot.

I trust the sanity of my vessel by karanguni read by frecklebombfic

Dick looks back, but mostly what he does is leap forwards.

Put All Your Faults to Bed by hauntedlittledoll read by partingxshot

Steph is the unofficial Wayne family counselor, and her hours are late. Very late.

We're In A New State by geckoholic read by reena_jenkins

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559306/chapters/59308723

Summary:

The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.)

@partingxshot

Since her arrival in Castelia City, Marin had the faintest feeling of being watched. Her ship was one of the last of the night to port, and the sun had already begun to set as she started toward her destination. Luckily for her, it wasn’t a long walk from the docks, and she arrived before the night grew too long.

The elderly couple who had taken such good care of her for a short time when she was young, the Robinsons, had agreed to reconnect with her. Marin was happy to have the chance to properly thank them for the kindness she had shown her, and to let them know how much she still thought of them, even after so many years. Her old foster parents had been thrilled to see her, but after a short time Marin had decided to excuse herself with a promise to return in the morning; she did not want to impose on the kind couple too much.

Once she left, rather than try to find lodging for the night the young brunette found herself drawn back to the docks -- to the very last spot in Castelia City she had stood before she had taken her leap of faith, years ago. But, again, that odd feeling of being watched loomed over her, and she found herself checking over her shoulder once or twice as she walked, enjoying the sounds of the ocean.

Finally, a noise behind her confirmed her suspicion. Marin whirled around and assumed a defensive position, although someone of her size would have a hard time looking imposing in any situation.

“Hey, I know you’re there!” Marin shouted, trying her best to sound threatening despite the slight tremble in her voice. “If you’re gonna mug me I wish you’d hurry up and get it over with, so I can enjoy my walk in peace. I’ll let you know now, though, I don’t have anything valuable on me!”

I originally encountered this Homestuck story back in February, when I was looking for gen fics to rec on Valentine's Day. Although it focuses more on Rose's struggle to come to terms with her sexuality, I ended up disqualifying it as a gen fic since it still did have romantic content. Today, however, I have no such restrictions and I'm happy to share Show the Lights with you.

Show the Lights begins during Act 5 Act 2 with Rose's descent into grimdarkness, but rapidly diverges from canon after that. Dave, Aradia, and Jade quickly interfere in Rose and Jack's duel, and transport Rose back to LOLAR. In the original comic, Rose's grimdark berserker rage is stopped abruptly when she's killed by Jack. (She gets better.) In this fic, her recovery is not so easy. Trapped in her trance but encouraged by the distant soothing of a voice that turns out to be Kanaya's, Rose manages to use her planet's power to escape her grimdarkness—enough to regain conscious control of her body, at least. However, the process of withdrawal from Horrorterror power is akin to quitting a powerful drug cold turkey, and equally as unpleasant.

Have you read A Handmaid’s Tale?

No but I would really really like to!

So this fic. It was written for the Shipping Olympics this summer, meaning it had to be under a certain length and, for this particular challenge, in the canon setting. I am thankful for the generous mods who considered my vague, pre-Cascade extrapolations on the Scratch compatible with canon.

There are a lot of parts here that I continually read over (past and present tense there) with a frowny face, but overall I think it was at least coherent, though I will forever remember it as the Fic Of The Four Emergency Beta Reads.

This first bit is probably my favorite part, partly because the rest swiftly descends into "how the hell do I tragic fated love story" and partly because I really like third-person descriptions of Aradia Megido.

“It’s interesting to think about," Aradia says. Sparks jump from the stones she strikes together and ignite easily on the strange brush. No one could find any trees to burn; those are few and far-between and they take what they can get, even if the leaves are tough and an odd lurid sap clots around each stem. They huddle around the flames, distinctly aware that there isn’t enough fuel to keep burning through the night. Day will come, and they will retreat under the low cliff overhang, bodies pressed close together as they shrink away from the light. The sun isn’t as terrible here as the ferocious rays on Alternia, but it stings and sears and Kanaya doesn’t want to expose the others to more pain. It will only get warmer each year.

“Humans all age at exactly the same rate. There is no sudden onset of puberty that screws everything up and leaves some of them in the dust while the others rocket to adulthood.” She smiles, but her teeth glint in the firelight as she bites her lower lip. “They can grow old together."

Kanaya stands and stretches. Two pairs of eyes shine at her in the dark, yellow and black and shot through with more blood coloring every day. The other pair watches her blindly.

“Are you sure you won’t stay another night?” she asks, looking at Aradia closely.

She shakes her head, lashes lowered. “I need to get Sollux, now that you’re settled. And make sure the humans stay safe.” The bright reds of her outfit glint fiercely, and her wings gather the warm light.

Kanaya remembers the legend of a terrible demoness weaving through time to alter the course of civilization from its genesis. She stirs the fire with a knobby stick of bizarre texture, too flimsy and damp for any other use. The others watch her like there’s a chance she has any idea what the hell she’s doing.

She’ll take the first watch.

  The light of the Green Sun is intense enough to burn as it refracts off of her glittering skin. Rose has to squint to look at her, and Kanaya feels the urge to apologize.

If I remember correctly, the image of this scene is what birthed this entire fic. All of this weird age angst is really just secondary. I think Rose/Kanaya is a very visually dynamic pairing, and a lot of that comes with color contrasts and grand sweeping floaty dresses in zero gravity. I think that is very important. To their relationship.

They float in dead space, sixteen all together, both the deceased and the living. They watch a universe tear itself apart.

Around them the Ring is whistling like light speed, and the color is ripping from Rose’s face (her clothes, her hair) like she’s being drained, spiraling away into some metaphysical black hole in the middle of a quasi-dimension that Kanaya hopes to God someone understands. John stares at his hand, bewildered, as pieces of himself speed out and away towards a brand new Earth. Jade grabs onto Dave’s hand.

I ship Jade/Dave really hard is this appropriate commentary?? I also wish I had had time/wordcount space to expand on the other kids’ roles in the Scratched universe because it would have been really fun.

“I once preserved my memories exactly like this, in a doomed timeline,” Rose shouts, like she can’t hear her own voice. “I fell asleep.”

The first of many segments in which I panicked about clarity in the mechanics.

“But Rose-”

“Kanaya,” she says, and there is something damning in her smile. “We did what we meant to. There is nowhere else to go.”

“We’ll follow you!” she shouts back, and feels her insides draining, leaving her frozen with panic. They have thrown themselves over the precipice and she is grasping emptily at the air. “I’ll come with you, there’s still time-”

Hands clutch at her face; lips smash against hers in desperation. Rose kisses her like she’s dying. For all they know, she might as well be.

When Rose draws back, Kanaya watches the last golden bits fly out of her hair. The lines of her empty face start to crumble, falling in on themselves in a nightmare display as the touch of her fingers becomes insubstantial.

There are a lot of times in which I wish I could animate, or get a whole animation studio to display what I’m not capable of doing in words AT ALL. This is definitely one of those times.

The Scratch takes her away to begin again.

Kanaya is left alone after her first kiss, her friends lined up solemnly behind her.

  “That’s it?” Karkat asks incredulously, staring down at the skinny dead animal Terezi drops in front of the fire.

“It’s all I could get,” she says, lips twisted ruefully. “Whatever it is it moved in packs, with way too many to survive on the vegetation around here.”

“What, has natural selection not rid this planet of the completely retarded species yet?” He prods it in disgust, then pinches the skin of its foreleg. “Fuck natural selection. Jegus, if there were any less meat here it would count as a vegan entrée.”

In the original draft this is the part where Ember told me that there was basically no way I could get away with implying that evolution worked like this, so Kanaya had to cut in FOR SCIENCE. (Yes I was originally going to leave Karkat’s explanation uncontested. Yes I am that shoddy.)

“Karkat, those were a lot of illogical things you just said.” Kanaya tries to coax the fire a little higher for cooking purposes. “It’s just that the ecosystem isn’t meant to support us at this point. We’ll have to make do, or start fixing things ourselves.”

“Fix an entire planet? That’s maggots.”

I wish I was better at Karkat’s dialog, I really do. There were so many creative options here.

“I meant that we could begin to grow our own food, or attempt some sort of irrigation. We have a little grist–”

“Kanaya,” Karkat says, and sits down heavily at her side. “This was a terrible idea.”

“I know,” she replies. They sit silently for a moment while Terezi begins cutting the beast open, knife too quickly hitting bone.

“Knowing you, you regret it even less than I do,” he grumbles, and she smiles just slightly.

This tiny, pathetic segment is the closest to Karkat<>Kanaya I have ever come. Hopefully I can actually write that pairing sometime because it makes my insides kind of melty.

  She finds her again in the Land of Strings and Sunshine.

The planet is terribly reminiscent of Rose’s, strong light streaming down onto glaring white islands. The chief difference lies in the matrix that seems to connect each piece of land; the ice cream-pink towers spawn sharp, steel strings that glint rainbow colors on the water. In some places she has to hack away with her chainsaw to clear a path through the air. Several times she is cut deeply by threads she can’t even see. Instead of sand, each shore is filled with snow. The rivers run darker, like red and purple wine.

I could have spent a lot more time designing R. Lalonde’s land than I did. But in my defense, the alpha kids weren’t a thing yet. Sure.

Kanaya sees her speeding over the waves, arm extended, and her chest seizes right up.

Even as the name leaves her lips she knows that this is not who she is looking for. The angles of her face are similar, with some of the same mystery running tight around her eyes, but her chin is the wrong shape and her smirk entirely too airy. When she adjusts her course to land, Kanaya wants to tell her not to bother.

“So you’re one of the infamous trolls I’ve heard so much about,” the girl says, feet sinking into the snow, and it almost hurts because all of the dangerous barbs are hidden too carefully in teacup-chipper tones. She wears lighter colors, too much pink to be genuine. Kanaya can’t believe that she could have possibly mistaken this imposter for Rose.

I was actually really excited to write about “Mom as a kid” though?? Like, my guesses could have been worse. I figured she’d be more emotive on the outside than Rose, hyper-sugary and very pink. Though as you can see, I was also under the impression that it would all be an OFF-PUTTING RUSE to hide her truly dangerous and near-cruel intentions. So.

Her hand clenches around the tube of lipstick in her pocket. She swallows down her protests and asks, “Where can I find your guardian?”

The game gets complicated, and she doesn’t really find Rose until she’s cycled through to the Land of Acid and Blaze. As she draws closer she finds it harder and harder to breathe (not just because of the smoke thick on the air) and when she finally sees over the blackened crest her lungs stop working altogether.

Originally this scene had adult!Dave in it. I’m still bitter about having to cut him out, but I was rubbing up against my word limit and he literally added nothing. He didn’t even talk. He just stood back-to-back with Rose looking simultaneously like a badass and a complete tool, and I didn’t have the wordcount left to make him do anything like, I dunno, join in the conversation?? So it was weird.

Her wands swish back and forth like conducting batons as imps explode around her. Her hair has grown to her shoulders, and she moves with more grace and purpose than should be possible from someone standing ankle-deep in green goo, purple destruction springing from each hand. Her skirt is long and trailing and magnificent, curled up by some unearthly power to avoid mucking the edges, and there is quiet malice in her smile. She looks like a character out of the novels Kanaya used to snuggle up with in her hive, but with more sharp edges.

In my head Rose looked a lot cooler than I managed to get onto paper. Pointy dramatic witch lady.

The battle clears. Kanaya suddenly feels very small and out of place.

Rose seems to have stretched straight upwards, barely developing the curves of her guardian (daughter?), and her face is longer and even more alien than it had seemed before, and she is so astoundingly beautiful that all Kanaya can do is start running again like the child she is, scrambling down the crumbling slope as chunks of charcoal fall around her.

“Rose!” she calls (it feels like her voice is hoarse from calling), and the woman raises a wand.

“Rose, I-” she stumbles to a stop and raises her hands. She has to look too far upward to make eye contact. “I’m not sure of the mechanics of the Scratch, or how successful your attempts to preserve your consciousness were, or if you will need reminding or have lost certain segments of your memory forever.” She speaks too quickly, but she can’t stop herself. “But really the only thing I’d like to know is if you remember who I am, and if perhaps you could lower your weapon.”

Rose raises an eyebrow as she complies, all quick, elegant motions that speak volumes. Kanaya looks up at her face, trying so hard to tell herself that she doesn’t expect anything.

“I’m sorry,” Rose says, “I don’t recall.”

It took me a very long time to get the emotion in this scene anything close to right. It’s nowhere near perfect.

  By the time Aradia comes backwards with Sollux, the rest have built a hive. It’s tucked into the rock wall, far enough from the shallow river that they can avoid the more annoying predators. Their lawn ring is greener by far than the rest of the surrounding area, possibly the planet, and they grow crops that might even be considered of nutritional value. Kanaya is in charge of the gardening, and Karkat has been trying to wrangle up some of the less threatening creatures to create a flock. It wouldn’t be enough or the right kind of food to support a human’s needs, and the sun is still too cold and distant for creatures used to being bathed in light, but trolls can struggle on.

Listen, just ignore the timeline here. Ignore the way astronomy works and the way evolution works and the way troll lifespans work. We’ll all be happier for it.

“This should be about right,” Aradia says worriedly. “I did my best to compensate for our different lifespans, but some things are hard to calculate.” She glances unsubtly at Karkat, who crossess his arms with a defensive snarl.

“Look, I’m fine. I’m a mutant freak who’s growing as slow as Kanaya.” That’s not quite true, but Kanaya doesn’t call him on it. They have both nearly reached maturity.

She feels a rising excitement that she has suppressed for a long time.

  Fuck it I am not reformatting this shit.

TT: I remember certain things about the old Earth, but only with prompting. TT: After our first conversation, I saw my daughter and recalled playing in the snow.  GA: Yes I Remember That Too GA: I Mean I Remember You GA: Doing That TT: Which in the context of the current Earth is utterly ridiculous, because only the suicidal would purposefully expose themselves to the Yeti and the Snowmen. TT: As well as the rest of the array of life-threatening creatures that apparently never existed before a rash decision on our part.  GA: Well Rash Isnt Quite The Right Term I Think TT: Could enough consideration possibly exist in this world to sufficiently grapple with the repercussions of rewriting a universe? Of course I of all people would be an exemplary participant in this decision-making process. It was all very civil, I’m sure.  GA: Somehow Even Your Self-Deprecation Comes Across As Condescending TT: I also remember you, in flashes. TT: Just small pieces. Something about a scarf, or a bit of creative dialog. TT: Meeting you in a strange, floating world that I can only assume is the Ring. TT: Once I thought I remembered saying goodbye, but I’ve lost it now. TT: Kanaya?  GA: You Should Be Helping Your Daughter

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling tacticalTerminologist [TT] –

  I had a bit of fun imagining the ridiculous creatures that would undoubtedly populate reset Earth, since obviously the trolls got such big things to defeat. My ideal scenario would be a bunch of mythical figures and/or previously harmless holiday symbols going on destructive rampages (Basically my ideal scenario would be a Doctor Who Christmas special).

  John’s granddaughter opens the door.

I considered going into a (hypothetical) image of Grandpa!John. Then I…didn’t for some reason. I’m pretty sure I reasoned it away with the wordcount but it would have worked well with the later age theme.

Light pours out, blinding the eclectic array of trolls and humans of all ages that stand before the threshold as they look out into a new universe. They all hold hands. Recognition explodes across Rose’s bruised face and Kanaya’s heart leaps into her mouth; she has been watching her expressions so closely.

As she steps through it feels like falling, except there is no question where she will land. She will survive, has survived, has obtained the ultimate reward and will descend like a shooting star into a world primed for life and civilization. They will begin anew.

She rushes past stars and stars.

  Rose’s legs are long and graceful, dangling above the water. She perches primly on a large mossy boulder, just before a trickling waterfall. “This enclosure is beautiful, but unfortunately it reminds me a bit too much of my old house, hence my refusal to build here.”

Kanaya stands before her, knee-deep and sloshing in the water. “Your paradise planet is incredible,” she says. “I couldn’t imagine anything better.” They both sense the lie. Heat prickles against the back of her neck.

Rose uncrosses her legs. “Your skin is lovely in this light,” she says softly, and raises a hand to fix her own bangs.

Kanaya lunges forward to catch it, overbalancing awkwardly and splashing Rose’s heavy skirt. She squeezes too tightly. “Rose, I want you to know that–”

“You’ve always rambled,” Rose says, and almost smiles. Kanaya’s heart beats in quick time.

“You…remember?” The words are heavy with wonder and cautious hope.

I hate this part. I hate how I set up Rose’s memory as the problem and then fix it just like THAT, only to replace it with a problem that hasn’t even come up yet? It was bad.

It’s written in Rose’s face, more brilliant and shining than ever before, like it’s fallen from the sky with the rest of them. There isn’t any doubt anymore, and Kanaya could sing for joy–

But there is too much pity and regret traced in those thin dark lips. Kanaya sees how clumsy and childish her hands look next to Rose’s elegant fingers.

This is around the part where June said “So the only problem is that Rose doesn’t want to bang Kanaya because she’s prepubescent?” WELL WHEN YOU PUT IT LIKE THAT.

Rose can slay demons and hoodwink the gods, but Rose cannot wait for her. She will age so quickly; even now small wrinkles hide between her knuckles.

So I had to do some clumsy clarification about the role of death and stuff, as seen above.

Kanaya closes her mouth and feels a shudder rock her, traveling from the chill water up through her neck and behind her eyelids, leaking out to spill down her cheeks. She shivers, draws one hand away to wipe furiously at her face.

She feels so terribly young.

Rose doesn’t speak, but her hand clenches.

“I’m sorry,” Kanaya says. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please,” she hears, too soft, and for a long time she can’t make herself look up to see Rose’s face. She feels a tremor run between their skins.

Finally she raises her chin, defiant. Rose is watching her, wide-eyed and almost young herself.

“Listen to me very carefully, Rose,” (her voice breaks, but she pushes harder, staring her down like she’s slaying monsters), “I will come back. I don’t care how long it takes; I’ll come back and we’ll finish things the way we should have before you decided to become abysmally impulsive and ruin absolutely everything and then deigned to handily forget everything important for an age and a half.”

I do like this whole bit. I’ll admit to that.

She starts to pull her hand away, then thinks better of it.

“Do you believe me?”

“Are you giving me reason to?” Rose says, but she looks so incredulous and shaken that Kanaya can’t make out any hope around the edges.

“Yes,” she gasps, halfway to a sob. She leans down to brush a wet kiss against Rose’s knuckles. When she finally pulls back she scrunches her eyes shut against the rest of the tears.

“I will see you tomorrow,” she says with finality, and turns away.

  Rose sees Kanaya the next day.

Kanaya doesn’t see Rose for a hundred years.

Aradia takes them backwards. They fight and they struggle, in an ecosystem not yet meant for civilized life, because it’s worth it and it will never stop being worth it. She wanted to go alone, but Karkat wouldn’t let her; the others were quick to follow. Each of them had a reason, be it a stupid human they wanted to live out their adult lives with or a friend they didn’t want to leave. They couldn’t let go if they tried.

Two of the four people who read this fic before publishing originally had no idea what the hell was going on with this part. This story needed SO MUCH POLISHING I can’t even express to you omg

So they carry on, watching the sun brighten and the planets turn.

Aradia guessed right about Sollux; the two of them grow from the later point in the timeline she placed them until when they finally, finally see the lights raining down through the star-swirled sky they’re in almost the same stage of development as everyone else.

They all follow the stars to their landing points, but avoid coming too close. When their past selves go back in time to begin the cycle, Aradia says she hears a ringing sound in her ears.

  One hundred years she has waited. Kanaya doesn’t know how to begin.

Her horns have grown longer, her arms more muscled. Her cheekbones are more cut-glass defined than ever, and she is just barely taller than Rose. She is wearing a dress of her own making, blue and buttercup yellow and made of everything she loves about this world. She has been embroidering it for a very long time.

If I could illustrate one thing in this fic (besides June’s lovely image from the first scene) it would be this dress. This conversation, really, but especially the dress. It would have to be this SUPER COMPLEX thing, though, and even though I was really lazy about the description, actually seeing it would have to be like seeing ALL OF KANAYA’S HOPES AND DREAMS FOREVER. So have fun with that.

“Hello,” she says, standing in front of Rose’s makeshift hive like a prodigal come home. Rose looks at her with something like shock, resting her hand on the doorframe.

Kanaya’s lips are still parted, but the words she wants to say don’t come, because suddenly everything is tremendous and on the verge of breaking. Her legs feel weak beneath her.

“I believe I made you a promise,” she chokes as her vision wavers.

Rose nods, still incoherent, and breathes deeply. “I…yes.” Warm sunlight glints off her hair.

Kanaya raises her arms awkwardly, almost afraid. Rose extends one hand to meet her, and their fingers touch in the middle; Kanaya wraps Rose’s hand in hers and raises the knuckles to her lips.

Rose’s own lips have gone white. “I believe,” she says, her eyes starting to swim, “I believe this is the part where I slapdashedly offer you a cup of terrible coffee to cover our gawking hides.”

I owe Ember a thousand kisses for making me change the above line from some lame shit about “why don’t you come inside” into something that Rose would actually say.

Kanaya’s smile breaks into radiance as she practically flings herself into Rose’s arms.

Dodostad: Vriska <> Kanaya Kanaya has wrapped herself up tight in a bundle of cloth, quivers like a leaf. Vriska hand hovers over her shoulder as she proffers a mug of hot liquid, and waits for those long, thin fingers to reach out for it.  “C'mon, fussyfangs. If I wanted to poison you I'd have done it aaaaaaaages ago.” she drawls fondly.

Filialpails: Rose and Jade vs The Space Wizards From Space Rose's wands are readied and lowered; Jade's gun is raised to her shoulder.  “It's time for Zzazzerpan's last stand.” Rose says quietly.  Jade flicks the safety off and cocks the pin. Her smile is unnervingly cheerful for what is about to transpire and in the glimmering cold of nebulae, octarine fire glows bright. 

Sarah you have offered me something wonderful and all I can find are terrible things on youtube that offer so much promise but fall flat. I need the Ceremonials album like I need sugar; My life is bland and porridge-like without it.