wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2022-07-10 09:32 pm
wintersday) wrote2022-07-10 09:32 pm
Entry tags:
- character: friendsim: folykl,
- character: friendsim: kuprum,
- character: friendsim: marsti,
- fandom: homestuck: friendsim,
- fanfic,
- fanfic: length: under 1k,
- fanfic: rating: pg,
- fanfic: type: f/f,
- fanfic: type: f/m,
- fanfic: type: poly,
- format: drabble sequence,
- pairing: friendsim: folykl/marsti/kuprum,
- trope: character study,
- trope: god-tier,
- trope: sburb/sgrub
Fic: I Am Not A Martyr, I'm A Problem
Title: I am not a martyr, I'm a problem
Fandom: Friendsim
Major Characters/Pairings: Folykl/Marsti/Kuprum
Wordcount: 413
Rating: Teen
POV: Second person
Summary: Seer of Void: Ascend
Notes: Title taken not just from this song, but specifically this remix: https://youtube.com/watch?v=YIXKhLUyIes
1. Dying hurts, but it’s simple. You don’t need a sword or a bullet. You don’t have to ask Kuprum to make it quick, which is good, because he can’t and you won’t force him. All you need is to lie down on the stone slab and wait.
It isn’t what you want – not death. Not resurrection. It scares you shitless, but you’ve seen the timelines where you don’t win, and this doesn’t happen in any of them. That means it’s a chance, so fucking cope already. Breathe out. Let go of Kuprum’s hand, and stop fighting. Let your body rest.
2. The change is instantaneous. One moment, you’re full of pain, too weak to shiver. The next, you’re moving like a meteor, fast and incandescent, plummeting through empty space toward your own Land. You skim cold oceans and windblown dunes, and nothing hurts – except for Kuprum, curled up and silent, hugging your empty corpse. He knows you’re a god now. He doesn’t understand yet that you’re not leaving him.
So you swoop out of the sky with an unholy screech and dive-bomb his ass, and he tackles you into the sand. You’re both laughing too hard to care about the future.
3. Your eyes haven’t healed. Kuprum says they glow now, creepy ghostly white, but they don’t see, and you’re weirdly glad about it. Eyes are for normies. You don’t need ‘em. You’ll take the world you’ve learned to perceive, mapped in sound and texture and energy. But your voidrot hasn’t healed either, and that part worries you. The dissipation’s still there. You’re fueled by Skaia’s energy, not your own, and if you ever lose it – this game doesn’t care about fairness. You know better than to trust it.
You used to have one guaranteed escape route. Now, the map has changed.
4. You’re not in pain. You’re full of light. You’re a literal fucking god.
You’re pressed between your matesprit and your moirail, naked in their arms, and you wish there were an easy way to tell them you’re lousy at being heroic. It might never matter, but if it does… SGRUB doesn’t care about fairness. Justice, it understands. If you have to, you know you can become the kind of monster it takes a Knight and a Maid to kill – but here, now, Marsti keeps kissing your fingers just because she can, and you don’t have to be anything.
You’ve found the way out. Leaving, staying – it’s your choice. It’s always still your choice.
Fandom: Friendsim
Major Characters/Pairings: Folykl/Marsti/Kuprum
Wordcount: 413
Rating: Teen
POV: Second person
Summary: Seer of Void: Ascend
Notes: Title taken not just from this song, but specifically this remix: https://youtube.com/watch?v=YIXKhLUyIes
1. Dying hurts, but it’s simple. You don’t need a sword or a bullet. You don’t have to ask Kuprum to make it quick, which is good, because he can’t and you won’t force him. All you need is to lie down on the stone slab and wait.
It isn’t what you want – not death. Not resurrection. It scares you shitless, but you’ve seen the timelines where you don’t win, and this doesn’t happen in any of them. That means it’s a chance, so fucking cope already. Breathe out. Let go of Kuprum’s hand, and stop fighting. Let your body rest.
2. The change is instantaneous. One moment, you’re full of pain, too weak to shiver. The next, you’re moving like a meteor, fast and incandescent, plummeting through empty space toward your own Land. You skim cold oceans and windblown dunes, and nothing hurts – except for Kuprum, curled up and silent, hugging your empty corpse. He knows you’re a god now. He doesn’t understand yet that you’re not leaving him.
So you swoop out of the sky with an unholy screech and dive-bomb his ass, and he tackles you into the sand. You’re both laughing too hard to care about the future.
3. Your eyes haven’t healed. Kuprum says they glow now, creepy ghostly white, but they don’t see, and you’re weirdly glad about it. Eyes are for normies. You don’t need ‘em. You’ll take the world you’ve learned to perceive, mapped in sound and texture and energy. But your voidrot hasn’t healed either, and that part worries you. The dissipation’s still there. You’re fueled by Skaia’s energy, not your own, and if you ever lose it – this game doesn’t care about fairness. You know better than to trust it.
You used to have one guaranteed escape route. Now, the map has changed.
4. You’re not in pain. You’re full of light. You’re a literal fucking god.
You’re pressed between your matesprit and your moirail, naked in their arms, and you wish there were an easy way to tell them you’re lousy at being heroic. It might never matter, but if it does… SGRUB doesn’t care about fairness. Justice, it understands. If you have to, you know you can become the kind of monster it takes a Knight and a Maid to kill – but here, now, Marsti keeps kissing your fingers just because she can, and you don’t have to be anything.
You’ve found the way out. Leaving, staying – it’s your choice. It’s always still your choice.