y'know, what sort of angst would karkat have if he and his lusii were raised in the beta bro strider household, nightmare puppet cal included
Okey this is an interesting ask, hmm if were assuming that Karkat is still an alien (because you mentioned crabdad) that means he couldnt really go outside because of that. With crabdad there i feel like he would probably try to fight Bro?
Like he was literally created to take care of Karkat i dont think he would like that some alien is trying to take Karkat from him, so either Crabdad is dead or he is being kept in a cage or smt.
About the rest, he would probably have a similar childhood to Dave with the difference being that (maybe) Crabdad is there. But his personality would be so different to Dave's tho
Like first of all he is an alien so he would have lots of questions of why him and his brother are so different looking, why he is the only person who looks like this on Earth, i feel like he would be insecure about himself like og Karkat but, in a very different way? like more about his appearance
His anger seems to be...inherited? or like theres a possibility because of the Sufferer, so his anger would still be there but probably in a different way, like probably more prone to violence considering that Bro encourages training and fighting, so i feel that he would be very destructive when he gets mad, like punching walls and destroying his own stuff.
About the way he would hide his insecurities... maybe acting as a really secure person? not a ''im so cool'' like with Dave but more of a ''im so great insult just slip out of myself'' idk if i am explaining it well
Also crabdad (if he is there) would probably be his biggest comfort in that place
Dave discovers something knew about Karkat and Karkat doesn’t entirely hate him for it.
The roar of the TV was muffled in the ears of the two teenagers sprawled on the tiny couch, their limbs entangled in messy disarray. Karkat grunted as two hands slid up his back, pulling him in tighter against Dave. His lips murmured breathily against Dave’s neck.
“You’re missing the movie.” He gently bit at the tender skin of his throat, a tiny thrill coursing through him at the noise Dave made.
“Fuck the movie,” was the casual reply and Dave pulled back momentarily to grin at him, shades askew from the impromptu make out session. He ran his hands contemplatively over Karkat’s torso, deciding a new target for his affections. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, silently asking permission. Karkat didn’t reply, turning to face the TV though it was obvious he wasn’t taking in anything the show was saying. Dave rolled his eyes at his stubbornness and slipped his hands under his sweater anyway.
Karkat hissed sharply at cold fingers but didn’t move away. Dave traced his hands over the soft skin of his abdomen, noticing something odd as he did.
“Karkat?” he asked.
“Mmm?”
“What are these lines on your ribs?”
Karkat’s eyes opened briefly, annoyed at being interrupted. “They’re my grub scars. All trolls have them.”
Dave sat back, all thoughts of making out momentarily flung from his brain as he studied this new anomaly. “Grub scars… like from when you were a baby? Or a larvae, I guess. I always forgot you guys are part insect too. Dude, that’s so weird.”
Karkat attempted to sit up, glaring at Dave, but was stopped by a hand pushing him back down. “We are not, part insect, as you say. If anything your insects are half-troll as they came second. And grub scars are a completely normal thing. They are no different than your ‘bellybuttons’ or whatever the fuck you call them.”
Dave wasn’t listening, poking the lines experimentally. They were raised in slight bumps atop the troll’s ribs and were of a ruddy complexion. There were three on either side and Dave traced his thumb over one curiously.
He didn’t miss the way Karkat jumped, nor the faint shade of red his face had turned. “Dude, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, you useless excuse for a human being, and I would appreciate it if you would remove your filthy human appendages from my—ah!”
Karkat was cut off mid-rant as Dave curled his fingers, watching his boyfriend’s reaction. A knowing grin was forming on Dave’s face and Karkat winced in preparation for the coming attack. But instead of launching into a vicious, one-sided tickle fight, Dave continued to gently trace over the scars, his fingers ghosting the skin and sending shudders scurrying down Karkat’s spine. He watched Karkat all the while, checking for a reaction, and that was when Karkat knew he was trapped.
“You okay there, Karkat?” Dave asked, stone-faced as usual. Karkat gripped his hands tight in the cushions of the couch, trying to focus on the TV and failing miserably. “You seem kind of tense.”
“I’m f-fine,” Karkat replied snarkily, ignoring the stutter in his voice. “Now will you shut your incessant blabbering and let me enjoy the show we were originally watching before you decided it was time to board the train to make-out station.”
Dave snorted at the word usage, digging his nails in gently at the very edges of the scars and grinning as Karkat choked back a whine. “Like you weren’t enjoying yourself. And I believe it’s called make-out central.”
“I thought I told you to be quiet, so how is it I can still see your mouth moving and hear the irritating tenor of your hormonal voice cracks?”
“Point taken. I guess we’ll just continue in silence then.”
Karkat grunted.
The movie displayed two men shouting passionately at each other while another one nervously tried to console the both of them. It was inevitably leading to either homicide or filthy love making, either one disgustingly graphic in nature; it was difficult to tell with troll romance. However, neither of the two boys were paying any attention to the movie, nor had they been paying any attention since the moment the title screen rolled across the TV.
Dave was having a field day with the new discovery of grub scars, much to Karkat’s chagrin. At first it was just tracing, light and easy to deal with. After a while it almost began to feel good, and Karkat felt his eyelids fluttering sleepily and his breathing evening out into a relaxed hum of contentment.
At first.
Karkat jerked awake again as nails suddenly dug into his sides, a surprised squeak of laughter betraying him. Dave smirked triumphantly, having gotten the reaction he’s wanted.
“What the fuck Strider?” Karkat growled, his hands now clamped around Dave’s wrists in a vise-like grip. Dave’s fingers were still touching his skin, unfortunately, and they continued to wiggle gently which was succeeding at slowly driving the troll insane.
“I didn’t know you were ticklish.” He curled his fingers in a devastating claw motion and Karkat’s eyes snapped shut again, hissing anxiously. “How come I didn’t know this?”
“I’m not ticklish,” Karkat denied immediately, but stuttered giggles were slipping past his lips as he squirmed under Dave’s touch. “You’re ticklish.”
It was a moronic comeback, but Karkat couldn’t think while his body was racked with the tortuous sensations. Dave’s cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink and he rolled his eyes. “Dude, lame. You totally are. You’re laughing right now.”
He was and he hated it. “S-Shut uhup. Just st-stohop.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Dahave, I s-swehear to gog—”
“Do the grub scars make it more ticklish or less ticklish?” Dave asked, ignoring him completely. His eyes gleamed with genuine interest while he waited for an answer.
“Y-Yehehes, you fuhuhucktard!” Karkat threw his head back as Dave’s gentle scratches turned into rough poking and prodding. “Gahaha, whahahat the fuhuhuck?”
“This is great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh before. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.” His fingers moved up just slightly, teasing at the barest edges of underarms, and Karkat lost it, kicking the back of the couch in frantic pleas. “I’m barely even touching you. This is kind of sad actually.”
“Fuhuhuck y-y-yohou, ehehe, nohoho, gog!” Karkat’s laughter had transformed into a storm of hiccupy giggles, an odd change from his usual gravelly grumbling. He had released Dave’s wrists and was now flailing his hands around uselessly, occasionally shoving at Dave’s arms to no avail. He jumped as the fingers found their destination in his armpits, slamming his arms down and subsequently trapping Dave’s hands there.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, nohohohoho!” Karkat curled up into the couch, trying to dislodge the hands and only getting them more stuck in the process. “Stohohohop!”
“I can’t. You’ve got to lift your arms dude.”
“I hahahate y-yohohou!”
“Careful Karkat, I might start thinking you’re feeling black for me.”
“Fuhuhuck yohohou!”
After another valiant attempt to get away without lifting his arms, Karkat decided he had no choice but to retaliate. Having no plan of action aside from getting those damn fingers off of him, he reached out blindly and clamped his hands around Dave’s sides, squeezing harshly.
Dave let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter, jerking back immediately. Having accomplished his goal, Karkat decided revenge was due. He quickly tackled Dave, pinning his hands above his head with one hand and raising the other one in a menacing gesture over his stomach.
“So Dave…” he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead as he grinned. “Now that you’ve had your fun I think it’s time you face a taste of your own medicine.”
Dave squirmed underneath him, eyeing the hovering hand apprehensively. “Look, I’m sorry man, but think about what you’re doing.”
Karkat raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you ticklish?”
Dave flushed, an odd look to see on the normally stoic Strider. Karkat decided he liked the look. “No. I mean, a little. But so is everyone else. Look, the point is I’m sorry. Can we please just go back to making out?”
“Maybe later,” Karkat promised, lowering his hand. “But right now I think I have some well-earned revenge to dish out.”
The second his hand made contact Dave burst into laughter. His laugh was boisterous and carefree, nothing like the boy who it came from. He giggled uncontrollably as Karkat scribbled fingers all over his stomach, the sensitive skin jumping under the touch.
“Ahahaha! Fuhhuhuck, yohohour w-weird troholl nahails tickle, gohohod!” He arched up against the bed, arms tugging uselessly against Karkat’s hold, squealing when Karkat pinched his hips. “Gah! Nohoho, nohohot thehehere!”
“What’s wrong Strider? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”
Karkat was ecstatic. Here was Dave, master of cool, giggling like a wriggler under him at a little tickling. He tried not to focus on the fact that just seconds ago he too had been the dumb wriggler helpless to Dave’s fingers, and decided to move up to the ribs, seeing as that had been the start of all this trouble.
Dave jerked away, tugging desperately at his trapped arms. “Duhuhude, sohoho nohohot cohohohool!”
“You know, while we’re here I think it would be a good time to learn more about your species. Tell me Dave, how many ribs does a human have?”
Dave spluttered incredulously, struggling to focus. “Whahahat? Ihihi dohohon’t knohohow! twehehenty-fohohour?”
Karkat tapped his nails against the blond boy’s sides, shaking his head. “You don’t sound too sure, Dave. I think I may have to figure out for myself.”
“Whahahat—gahaha!”
Dave snorted as Karkat dug his nails in-between his upper ribs, counting as he went. “Let’s see. One, two, three, four—quit moving, asshole. Now I have to start over.”
“Karkahahahat!” Dave whined and fell back into squeaky giggles as the process repeated.
This was surprisingly fun. Karkat had never seen Dave laugh with such abandon before. He was always so obsessed with being cool or ironic or whatever dumb concept he was into at the time, and it felt nice to break him out of his shell.
As it turned out, Dave was even more ticklish than Karkat. Every spot produced more of that squeaky, high-pitched laughter, and Dave seemed unable to control himself as he squirmed helplessly underneath him, protests and pleas spilling out amidst the laughter. Finally Karkat decided to give him a break and backed off, releasing his grip on Dave’s wrists.
Dave was a mess. His shirt was mussed up all the way to his chest and he was breathing heavily, cheeks bright red from laughing. Somewhere in the process his shades had been knocked askew and they lay haphazardly on one side of his head, held on by one ear. Karkat’s own eyes widened as he took in the other boy’s eyes.
Red, bright red from mirth and accusations as they turned a betrayed glare on Karkat.
“Rude. I did not tickle you for that long.”
“Your shades.”
Dave blinked, realizing their absence. “Fuck.” He quickly grabbed them, shoving them firmly back over his eyes. “You didn’t see anything.”
Karkat grinned, already missing their presence. “You looked adorable.”
“Shut the fuck up man.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Dave tried to get up but found that Karkat was still firmly planted on his waist. He frowned, trying again. Nothing.
“Uh, you mind moving?”
Karkat shook his head. “I’m good. I quite like where I am right now.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?”
“Yeah.” Karkat crossed his arms, taking in the sight of the helpless Strider before him. “I think I’ll have to have you like this more often.”
Dave snorted at the corniness of it, ignoring the flush of his cheeks. “Okay, whatever. Get down here and kiss me already.”
Karkat did, but mere minutes later his fingers found themselves tracing up the boy’s sides yet again and they found themselves emerged in a second round of ridiculousness that neither was entirely angry about.
