6 Works by eretgender
Listing Works
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ten variations on a theme in a flat minor (rainer maria rilke ain't gonna fuck you bro) by halfbladekind (eretgender)
Fandoms: Homestuck
03 Feb 2022
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splinter is an onemotepeia, you think. the heavy, downward jar of the first syllable. the crack of the t again your palate, snapping your stretched-thin existence into another fragment like a brittle pane of old plastic.
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The first time Ranboo falls in love, it's a boy with the most neatly pressed suit he's ever seen. The boy's got whiskey on his breath and freckled scars spattered across his face like the milky way itself fell down and burned him, and he talks about policy and rebuilding and Ranboo doesn't hear a single goddamn word he says.
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Slowly, you are assembling a nest for the god. Gelignite and ammonium perchlorate-laden warehouse cathedrals. Flashing satellite dishes that blink out psalms. You mutter litanies of launch code keys under your breath as you work.
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(He is a lamb to the slaughter, useless and gentle and fragile-forgiving, and he is cracked open, torn cleanly in half, oblation to gods who are less real than he is. Burnt offering on the altar. Charred, twisted husk of something that should not be alive.)
It is the sixteenth, and tubbo is dead, and burned, and terrified.
It is not as bad as it could be.
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ranboo laughs, and it’s a soft, breathy, wheezing sound, and his hand is so, so close to tubbo’s where it’s flat on the stone slab, and he’s leaning back, shoulder pressed against tubbo’s, head tilted up, lanky legs hanging over the edge of the tower where they’re sitting.
when they first met, president and unwilling traitor (such old, crumpled descriptors. so much has changed.), tubbo had thought he was pretty. a sneaking, stupid thought in the back of his mind had whispered that maybe, if it came down to it, he wouldn’t mind dying to a boy like him.
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they're stupid and dumb and soft and that's, like, literally everything that happens. -
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l'manberg was a banged-up two-wheel-drive toyota on icy mountain roads, and you were the student driver clutching helplessly at the wheel as you spun out towards a telephone pole. stick a cheap white cross at the site of the accident. call it l'manhole.