He doesn’t tell Dave why he hides his food under the futon, behind mixing equipment, inside the bricks of his desk. Why his swords are two steps from where he sleeps, and why he’s trained himself to cat nap in three hour intervals of insomniac nervousness.

“It’s like, his little hornzorz!” Latula says. She rips open a new pack of Flamin Hott Fire Crispoz with extreme prejudice, manic with food dye and pity.

AO3 port of Brainbent, a reader-driven Homestuck AU on Tumblr. Warning for mental illness themes. Major updating in progress as I move the story posts here from Tumblr for an easier archive bingeing experience.

Dave just wants to be left alone. What's the point of anything when what's broken can never be completely fixed? This is the story of Dave Strider and Karkat Vantas, on the longest journey of their lives.

If Bro had smiled, even once...

They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him. Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.

Growing up on a flying meteor is hard work. You know this from experience. TG: dude what is this piece of shit you just sent me CG: TO PUT IT IN YOUR HUMAN TERMS: CG: IT’S A FUCKING LOVE STORY, DAVE. Well, it's a bit more than that.