Title: Dead Gods
Fandom: Homestuck
Rating: T for language
Length: 566 words
Content notes: No warnings
Author's notes: Vriska's my favorite character, but I have a ridiculously hard time getting into her head, haha. Hopefully I managed to get her POV across reasonably well.
Summary: You're not a hero anymore, and there's nothing left to steal in this lightless, lifeless land. (Vriska isn't too thrilled with this whole "death" thing.) Vriska-centric gen with hints of Vriska/John and Vriska♠Terezi.



Your name is VRISKA SERKET and you are the Thief of Light.

Well, you were the Thief of Light. Now you’re just dead, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.

You look down, slowly, and trace your hands over the shapes on the front of your God Tier outfit—first outlining the center circle, then running your nails across the dozens of tiny triangles that make it a sun. You were so happy when you first earned it, you remember, full of glee at the realization that you’d cheated death once again.

You’d thought God Tier meant you were immortal. You suppose you must’ve forgotten to read the fine print: "Immortality will be revoked if you happen to get stabbed in the back by your old best friend some pissy legislacerator with no fashion sense and a really annoying voice."

Whatever, though. You’re good with it. Life is for wimps.

You pick yourself up off of the cold cave floor and yank yourself back into the present. It’s weird, being back here, in the same cave where your mother used to sleep (and eat and do basically everything else) and you’re not really sure you like it.

At least you managed to make the memory of her corpse go away. That was gross.

The thought of your mother brings you to the thought of what your mother ate, and from there it’s only a short mental leap to thinking about a certain somebody or eleven you should have feed to your mother sweeps ago.

They’re probably screwed without you, you think viciously. Even now Terezi is sitting there looking down at your body, crying teal tears and wondering what they’re all going to do without the coolest, strongest, and most good-looking troll in the whole game.

(Either that or she’s laughing, smiling down at your corpse with her razor-sharp teeth and wondering why she didn’t do that a long time ago. Wondering why she ever spent time with you at all.)

It’s not like you didn’t wonder that yourself, really. Terezi was a tealblood, sure, but she didn’t play that tired old game up sucking up to the higherbloods any more than you did, and she didn’t need fancy mind-tricks or secret diaries to mess with everyone’s head. Just a smile like a shark’s, a couple of stuffed dragons, and a stupid-looking uniform.

And then you went and blinded her, because one relationship that you don’t fuck up somehow is obviously one too many.

“Vrit-chka!” You start and peer around the edge of the cave, even though you already know who’s calling you. There’s only one person in the whole universe who can mispronounce your name that badly. (And, okay, there’s only one person besides you in this particular whole universe anyway, but details are for wimps too.)

John—not your John, but a John nonetheless—is standing where the stone and sea of your bubble meshes with the pavement and white picket fences of his, waving wildly and grinning like an idiot.

“C’mon!” he shouts. “I’ve got the popcorn popped and the DVD’s all queued up!”

“Coming!” you yell back, a little grin pulling at the corner of your mouth despite yourself. You launch yourself off the cliff, letting your wings grab the slight breeze and carry yourself down to where John stands.

Nic Cage isn’t going to wait forever, after all.