
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/574971.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Gamzee_Makara/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Gamzee_Makara, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Black_Romance, holy_shit_why_did_I_write_this, no_nitra_bad, sorry
      43eoidskjhuridj
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-27 Words: 1597
****** You Scream ******
by Nitramoron
Summary
     In which Dave comes across Gamzee one day, and Gamzee makes him
     realize it's all his fault.
Notes
     um
     I'm sorry for this I guess?
     (I'm not saying Gamzee's a rapist and I'm not saying this would ever
     happen but the guy IS batshit insane)
You know he's following you. You just don't let him know you know he's
following you.
You hear his oversized, idiotic clown shoes squeaking on the tile floor of the
headquarters on the meteor, wet with god knows what as he darts from pillar to
pillar behind you.
You don't look--Bro taught you to never let an enemy know you're onto them, no
matter what--but you know by the way the sound from his shoes and heavy
breathing bounces off the walls that he's getting closer. Too close for
comfort, you realize, and go to draw your sword just as he's knocking you into
the wall and pinning you with his body, and you realize for the first time that
you might be in trouble.
He's grown since you last saw him, or maybe that's just his insane self-
awareness thing, because he's still lanky and lean but already seems a good
head taller than you (not even including the horns, and those things look SICK,
curling up in long almost-spirals from his matted nest of black hair), and he's
hunched over so he can pin your arms to your sides without the use of his
hands, which are holding something long and a mix of red and white to your
neck, immobilizing your neck and head.
It's then that you realize that you can't move any part of your body much, and
you, Dave Strider, become very, very afraid.
"Hey, motherfucker." he snarls, breath hot and foul in your face. "Been a LONG
MOTHERFUCKING WHILE, hasn't it?" his voice creeps dangerously close to a scream
in certain words, eyes widening unevenly.
And been a while, it has. You've never actually met him, you don't think, but
if you had he'd been tucked under Karkat's arm like a sad puppy, and you try to
stay far from that angry guy as much as you can, but from the pictures you'd
been shown he was a skinny, slouched guy with cleanly applied yet still kind of
weird facepaint (like one of those ICP weirdos from back on Earth. Juggalos?),
baggy clothes, messy but healthy hair, and droopy-lidded eyes. You barely see
any of that in the individual pinning you to the wall right now, although you
admittedly can't see much in the darkness, combined with the shitty visibility
from your shades. You just see the right side of his face well from the shitty
lighting system, but his paint is smeared to no end and there are three long
scars spattered on his face, weird purple still oozing from them and mixed with
other colors. His eyes are wide now, pupils blown wide and filled with insanity
but also a previously unpresent sense of awareness that honestly scares the
shit out of you and holy shit he's batshit but he still knows and he hates you
and he's going to kill you you're going to die but hold on Strider you can
still get out of this but you're going to /die/
"Y-yeah, batshit. You miss me?" you stammer a little in the beginning, but
manage to narrow your eyes behind your shades and pick up some of your cool.
"No, you IDIOTIC motherfucker. IT'S FUCKING SAFE TO SAY I DIDN'T MOTHERFUCKING
MISS YOU NONE. You couldn't have stayed away long enough, but you walked right
into my MOTHERFUCKING CORNER OF THIS PLACE all proper and pretty, like a
STUFFED GRUB ON A SILVER MOTHERFUCKING PLATTER, so who am I to up and
motherfucking complain?" he cackles, rotton but sharp-toothed grin glinting in
the harsh light as he laughs.
"I came looking for you, you idiot. Figured you needed some more education on
what the hell is real and what isn't." holy shit Dave that was a really stupid
thing to say. Look at that, that right there? That's MURDEROUS ANGER in this
whacked-out troll's eyes! What were you thinking? Dumbass.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERFUCKER. You MADE ME this way, you SMEARED
MOTHERFUCKING SHITSTAIN. You up and made me realize what is up and going on
with this MOTHERFUCKING universe, made me DOUBT my MOTHERFUCKING RELIGION. Made
me go off the sopor. Made me KILL MY FRIENDS. Now I'm too afraid of hurting
anyone else I won't even let my MOIRAIL come near me. That's all your fault,
Strider."
"Hey! Don't you dare blame you going apeshit on me. Sure, I pointed out some
facts, but it's not MY fault you lost it and murdered them. I'm not responsible
for you being a psychotic little shit." you snarl back. The thought that he
would think him killing his friends is your fault makes your blood boil, and
you don't think twice before spitting in his awful, purple-oozing face.
"Oh no, you insufferable little motherfucker, you did not just motherfucking do
that." he growls, long claws hitting against the tile as he pushes the club
harder, cutting of your already-labored breathing. You choke and try to squirm
away from him but you've got nowhere to go, he's pinning you and oh god you
can't breathe you can't BREATHE you're going to die like this and then he's..
gone.
You look around for him frantically, gasping to catch your breath. Your hands
go to your throat, rubbing at the irritated skin. It seems like he really is
gone, you think before OLLYING THE FUCK OUTY, your red Converses squeaking
slightly as you run as fast as you can back the way you came, trying
desperately to get somewhere even remotely close to the others before he comes
back, and you're just starting to think you're going to make it when suddenly
he's in front of you and you can't slow in time, running right into his grimy
arms like the chump you are.
"You're going to motherfucking regret that." he chuckles low in your ear before
slamming your head into the wall hard. He's still laughing, and it's ringing in
your ears as you black out.
You come to god knows how much later, hands and feet bound and dangling from
the ceiling. You cough, spitting out a gob of blood from where you must have
bit your lip. It's quiet and dark, the only sound something dripping not far
off.
"H-hello?" you call, a little foolishly, praying he didn't drag you off
somewhere deeper into the heart of the headquarters and farther from your
friends.
At first there's no response, but then you hear a honk and feel the air shift
as someone runs across the room. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen. You
register your shades are on the ground by your bound feet.
There's no more noise except for that persistant goddamned dripping for what
feels like a long time (and you should know, you ARE a time player, after all),
and you're starting to hope he forgot about you just left you there to die.
That hope is crushed by him coming up behind you in a damn near flashstep,
putting his hands on your hips and growling wordlessly in your ear. He slides
his hands under your shirt and draws his claws down your sides and you know
he's breaking your skin by the burning pain and the wet heat dripping down your
sides. You grunt quietly, trying not to let him he's getting to you, but when
his claws slash open the front of your black jeans and your boxers, you start
screaming like hell, loud and bloodcurdling and unlike any sound you've ever
made before.
He digs his claws in deeper and whispers in your ear, voice deep and scratchy
and sounding annoyed.
"Holler all you want, you little fuck. It's not like anyone'll be able to hear
you none."
And holler you do.
You scream the whole time, loud as you can, until you lose your voice.
You scream as he rips off your shirt, biting hard all over your neck and chest
and stomach even, making you bleed.
You scream as he gets rid of your jeans and boxers, throwing them somewhere you
don't quite see.
You scream as he drags his rank tongue down your stomach and on the insides of
your thighs and when he bites down hard right beside your dick.
You scream as he takes you into his mouth, nipping at the sensitive skin as he
sucks.
You scream as he pulls himself out of his torn, spotted sweatpants, pressing
against you.
You scream especially loud and struggle so much your arm is dislocated as he
violates you, long and hard like it'd never end. So hard you can't block it out
or even numb yourself in the least.
You scream as he fills you to the brim, fills you until you're dripping dark
purple. You see it splash on your shades.
Your screams continue as he releases you, kissing you before disappearing.
You scream as you grab your shades and limp, naked and bleeding, to where your
friends reside, his noises following you.
You scream as Kanaya fixes you up.
You scream every night for a long while when you hear honking from the foot of
your bed, coming for you.
You try to numb yourself and you try not to cry out, but you scream until
someone hears you and spooks him off. That doesn't happen all the time, but
when it does you feel thankful.
You feel thankful but you still feel hurt and violated and not ok.
Even if you're not screaming aloud you're screaming inside, and it's all your
fault. He's made you realize it by now.
It's all your fault.
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