[Karkat has been in a good mood these past few weeks. People who didn't know him probably wouldn't spot the difference, but Kanaya and Sollux had both commented on it within two days of it starting. The reason is obvious. His matesprit/boyfriend/tanglebuddy/JOHN had finally decided that buckets were a totally acceptable thing to involve in their relationship, and after the short bout of lightheadedness and dehydration that comes the morning after a pailing, the afterglow had lasted for ages. Apparently humans can handle quite a bit more than trolls, but Karkat has been pleased to try to keep up. If a bucket got left shoved into a closet or sopor slime got on the floor because humans have something called 'morning wood', then that was fine, eventually they'd get settled in and the worst they're going to get is a difficult cleaning job, right?]
[WRONG.]
[John had slept over in Dave's room, which was fine with Karkat, who had gotten a good look at the two of them and deemed the moirails, so Karkat was alone in his respiteblock. He'd decided that maybe this was the best time to clean up after all of the wild sex, before the green stained the floor or one of his buckets became unsalvageable. After angrily scrubbing the floor around his recoopracoon for a while, he decided it was time to bite the bullet and clean the dirty bucket.]
[But there wasn't just nasty genetic material and what John had called 'cum' in that bucket. Sure, there was red crusted around the edges, but the material had gone beyond the slight congealing that was the worst Karkat had seen it-- there was some kind of solid blob at the bottom. Karkat pulls a face and pokes at the blob with the wooden part of his mop, wondering if it's stuck to the bottom. To his horror, it quivers, and then unrolls to reveal the tiniest grub he's ever seen. It's eyes are sealed shut like a baby purrbeast, and it's little head is fuzzy with black hair that hasn't grown in yet. It's horns are nubby like Karkat's, but with the tiniest ridges on the outside edges. It has red blood showing through its tiny grubby body and a pronounced overbite.]
[Holy. Shit.]
[With shaky hands and without breathing at all, Karkat gently picks up the child in the bucket. Up close, he can see can see that it lacks poison markers around its closed eyes- a boy. It gives the faintest little wiggle of its itty bitty legs and something in Karkat's chest squeezes hard. He cradles the grub to his chest the way he'd never had the urge to when he'd been caring for his infant friends-- this grub isn't a friend, isn't himself, it's his offspring. It's John's son.]
[Karkat bolts for Dave's room as fast as is trollishly possible, desperately hoping that he could catch John on the way there.]
12 this will be so ridiculous
[WRONG.]
[John had slept over in Dave's room, which was fine with Karkat, who had gotten a good look at the two of them and deemed the moirails, so Karkat was alone in his respiteblock. He'd decided that maybe this was the best time to clean up after all of the wild sex, before the green stained the floor or one of his buckets became unsalvageable. After angrily scrubbing the floor around his recoopracoon for a while, he decided it was time to bite the bullet and clean the dirty bucket.]
[But there wasn't just nasty genetic material and what John had called 'cum' in that bucket. Sure, there was red crusted around the edges, but the material had gone beyond the slight congealing that was the worst Karkat had seen it-- there was some kind of solid blob at the bottom. Karkat pulls a face and pokes at the blob with the wooden part of his mop, wondering if it's stuck to the bottom. To his horror, it quivers, and then unrolls to reveal the tiniest grub he's ever seen. It's eyes are sealed shut like a baby purrbeast, and it's little head is fuzzy with black hair that hasn't grown in yet. It's horns are nubby like Karkat's, but with the tiniest ridges on the outside edges. It has red blood showing through its tiny grubby body and a pronounced overbite.]
[Holy. Shit.]
[With shaky hands and without breathing at all, Karkat gently picks up the child in the bucket. Up close, he can see can see that it lacks poison markers around its closed eyes- a boy. It gives the faintest little wiggle of its itty bitty legs and something in Karkat's chest squeezes hard. He cradles the grub to his chest the way he'd never had the urge to when he'd been caring for his infant friends-- this grub isn't a friend, isn't himself, it's his offspring. It's John's son.]
[Karkat bolts for Dave's room as fast as is trollishly possible, desperately hoping that he could catch John on the way there.]