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lackadaisydreamer · 1 year

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Midnight City Pt5

A slickpaint au

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((it's late bur happy belated 413. I had it in me to write a longer part this time, next update is gonna be a bit more on the romantic side. I'm a sucker for a good slow burn.))

Droog hated pain, it reminded him of his inevitable mortality. Curses streamed under his breath, the last thing he remembered was hitting the floor. The events of the night blurred together, swirling gowns and the echo of poker chips melding into explosions and the smell of gasoline that still soaked the hem of his dress pants. Throbbing, he woke to a throbbing headache.

Boxcars was finishing up fixing his wound. His mind drifted back to the war times, and all the hours spent just like this. Chaos, the blood soaked ground, and this lumbering buffoon that somehow had qualified as a medic.

Droog was so accustomed to the feeling of the sharp needle by now that he hardly felt it. "You should have told us you were shot." Hearts grunted. "This could have been bad, you're lucky there's no fractures...it didn't hit the bones." Droog looked over to the bedside table reaching for a cigarette. In one swift click of his lighter it glowed in his hand. Droog inhaled deeply, the burn itself was addictive.

"What can I say I've always had excellent calves..." He muttered, looking at his bandaged leg. "Where's Slick?" He asked as Hearts washed his hands in the basin.

"His room is across the hall." He shrugged, drying them off with a fluffy pink towel. Just about everything in Ms. Paint's mansion was some shade of pink.

The bed was softest thing he had ever lain on. Slick looked up at the ceiling, staring at the embossed patterns swirling overhhead. His eyes followed them as his own thoughts stretched and buzzed in his skull. Trying everything he could to organize them, take them apart then piece them together over and over. Was there something he missed? some small detail? Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to mind and that part was the worst. He tossed his hat in frustration, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

The Felt for some reason was working for Biggs, and he was after Ms. Paint...what was he planning? "I need to ask her so many questions but she's in no condition to speak to me..." Slick grumbled. "Droog will kill me if I go check on him, and I can't sleep a wink..." His thoughts fell back on that moment in the hallway, hearing the fear in her voice. "I can't let Jackpot find her again..." With a growl of frustration he got up from bed, pulling his dress shirt back on. Bustling in the hallway was Clyde, making sure everyone else was comfortable.

"Excuse me Clyde?" Slick called over, immediately getting his full attention. He had a kind smile.

"Yes master Spades?" Clyde asked, leaning politely over a basket of the now soiled disguises from the nights events. "I was just on my way to ask if you would like me to wash and press your suit?" Slick scratched his head.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna be burning the night oil Clyde, could I get a copy of yesterday's paper, a pen, and a notepad?"

She was shaking, every inch of her aching. Clyde had insisted on a relaxing bath which did help, and the doctor would be coming in tomorrow morning. Ms. Paint squeezed her eyes shut, quiet sobs making her shudder. She could feel his hands, and hear Itchy's terrible scratchy laugh that made chills run down her spine.

It felt like hours had passed before she could finally breathe evenly. Her head was throbbing as she slowly sat up. Water, yes some water would help. Ms. Paint got up from her bed, leaning agaisnt the post as a small dizzy spell overtook her. Eyes closed, deep breaths before she took a step. She sighed, wrapping herself in a luxurious pink robe and stepping into a pair of elegant slippers.

She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, and from the livingroom she noticed a soft glow of light. "Certainly Clyde is not up at this hour?" Ms. Paint thought to herself that if it were the case she would send him off to bed at once.

To her surprise, it was Slick. He was leaning over Newspaper clippings and writing down notes at a rapid pace. She couldn't see the papers but he was scribbling down everything he had heard Itchy and Die say. A list of questions for Ms. Paint of course, as well as all information he knew about Biggs He sighed, rubbing his tired face. He was running out of things to take note of. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.

Ms. Paint slowly backed away, the last thing she wanted was to bother him. "He's certainly thorough." He looked just as tired as she felt, perhaps some tea or something would help. "I think I would prefer a tea myself actually..." she mused, making her way to the kitchen.

Slick stretched his neck, the small clicks and cracks of his joints made him wince as he finally sat up straight. He could almost hear Hearts griping about his posture. "I was right..." He had every copy of the paper from the week on hand, his deck style modus had them all outstretched before him. "The Felt haven't been on the move for the last month..." They would sometimes have periods where they would lay low but this had been an especially long down time even for them. They hadn't even been mentioned in the papers, and over and over there was Jackpot.

"Biggs joins the board! The Paint Foundation celebrates their gratitude." He had been cozying up to their little socialite for some time now, and this explained the Felt's absence. "Dammit..." He muttered. Standing up to stretch his back. "Still too many questions." He suddenly stood completely upright, he heard something. The sound of shattered glass...the opening of a cupboard? A door perhaps...yes, and those were definitely footsteps following it. Slick turned over and shut off the light, with a small flick of a card his hands met the familiar handle of one of his many blades. One of his personal favorites, an ornate black switchblade. The blade was so dark he wouldn't have to worry about pesky reflections that was for sure.

He made his way through the halls, confused at a single small light that seemed to be coming from the kitchen. "Clyde already went to bed...The crew would have to come through here from that hallway...Ms. Paint has been asleep for hours and I'm sure I'd hear her..." He approached carefully. "If Biggs has the nerve to show up here..." Slick grit his teeth, where would he take her and on that note Why did he care? Slick clenched his fist in frustration. Why on earth was he sticking his neck out for her like this anyway?

"He's interfering with my business...that's all there is to it, and she's got something to do with it." With a deep breath. "It's business, nothing else..." He heard someone inside, only person. Yeah, he could take them no problem. "Alright show yourself!" He demanded, leaping inside and his blade hovered at the neck of not a checker nor did his gaze meet a green tailored idiot.

There she was, Ms. Paint dumping the pieces of a broken tea cup in the bin. Her soft porcelain complexion sickly, her eyes dark and exhausted but nevertheless beautiful. She hadn't even screamed, she just stood there shocked, and he looked just as surprised as she did. "M-mr. Spades! I....oh dear I..." She felt so dizzy, she could barely piece together a sentence. "Did...I startle you?..." Her voice was already trailing off. It had been hard enough for her to stand. Ms. Paint's mind went completely blank.

Without a moment of hesitation that not even he could have anticipated, Spades immediately dropped his blade. His arms scooping her up. "You're supposed to be resting..." he grumbled. "I thought the noise might have been an intruder, I wasn't expecting to see you there I'm sorry, it looks like I was the one that scared you..." Spades made his way back to the livingroom. Ms. Paint felt like she was about to pass out, she could feel his heart racing as he held her close. Trying not to knock over any of the decor in the halls.

Ms. Paint felt her face burn, all this carrying and all this fuss. It was hardly dignified. "I am perfectly fine thank you...please, I can walk..." Slick raised his brow.

"You were practically using that broom as a damn cane." She lowered her face, the embarrassment making her cheeks go pink. "If you...don't mind me asking why were you up? If Clyde had found you he would have thrown a fit." Ms. Paint sighed, rubbing her face as they came to the livingroom.

"Oh nevermind...thank you either way...I saw you working, you looked exhausted and I couldn't sleep a wink either so I thought perhaps some a tea and a chat would clear both our minds." She explained. Spades shook his head.

"No, you can barely keep your eyes open...I think you need your rest, and we can discuss everything later like you said..." He turned from his work and to the staircase, still holding her. "I don't want anything happening to you.. believe me as to why that is that's one of the too many questions I have right now but..." Slick allowed himself a look, just one look before once more turning his gaze forward. She was looking up at him, her gentle eyes tired and her soft cheeks rosy. "Why is she looking at me like that...I'm just some sewer rat...why the hell is she even trusting me that's a terrible decision." He took a deep breath. Yeah, too many questions. Spades cleared his throat, returning to his thought.

"one thing's for sure...even I have to admit that this city wouldn't do well to lose you."

She quietly directed him to a set of large white double doors, his touch so gentle as he placed her on the floor. Why did he care? Why was he here...the same questions made her feel like her skull was going to split in half. Ms. Paint looked back to the doors, hesitant to open them. Dreading the memory of cigar smoke and rope burns. Surprisingly, he reached over and opened it for her. "Since I already can't sleep, would you feel better if kept watch outside?" A question that seemed to make even more questions. Questions they were both too tired to ask and too tired to answer. Yet, there was a comfort in his words and a solution to his directionless puzzling with her answer.

"Yes...thank you mr. Spades." He chuckled, the first time she saw him smile.

"I'm not one of your ambassadors or representatives, you can just call me Spades or Slick that's up to you." He waved her inside. "Goodnight Miss. Paint."

#homestuck #homestuck fanfic #midnight crew #slickpaint #spades slick #wholesome #spades slick x ms paint

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davekat-sucks · 6 months

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If you could rewrite homestuck (I mean act 1-7 nothing past that) What would you change?

For the most part Acft 1 up to Cascade has been fine. Everything after that will have major changes. Like have Beta Kids from the ship and meteor actually speak with each other and visit each other during the travel. They have all the means for communication and I think it's bullshit they never talked to each other. Rose's alcoholism will be solved without Vriska involved. Terezi gets help from the people around her to stay away from Gamzee. And trying to free Gamzee from Lord English's servitude. Have the dead trolls be alive again. Be it on the meteor or in the Alpha session. Not as sprites. Just themselves. No teen drama with the Alpha Kids either. Have the dead trolls interact with the Alpha Kids as they help through their session and issues. NO DANCESTORS. Three of them have larger roles and the rest of the cast is completely useless. There is no need to pad the story out. Let Feferi fill that role for Meenah to take charge and give her development she needs. As well as having the trolls confront and face about their ancestor's past and what they will be for the future. No Union Jack either. Make it known that Calliope's toxic positivity harms the cast too, showing that she is just as awful as Caliborn. The cast would have to beat both Cherubs. Final battles would be The trolls vs The Condesce Beta Kids vs Jack Noir Alpha Kids vs Lord English Bonus is that Spades Slick is on the Alpha Kids side or fights on his own too against Lord English. To finally wrap up what he had came for from the Intermission. He would then get to be with Ms. Paint as a couple. They beat the villains, get Earth C, endgame ships would be things like JohnVris, Rosemary, DaveJade, Karezi, DirkJake, EriRoxy, Equius x Jane, and Solradia. They each have fankids (through natural means or ectobiology, so NO DOG PENIS), and they live happily ever after. And that's just if I keep the trolls in this. Because I think it would be better if Homestuck itself is just focused on the Beta kids fighting against Jack Noir and then Lord English, no trolls involved. If you had to have them, have them only the important ones like Vriska, Kanaya, Terezi, and Karkat help the Beta Kids before they get killed off. Have the troll session, Hivebent, as a separate story that can be explored later. The Acts would be up to 5-6 since that means Dancestors and Alpha Kid session won't be in this. It would be just be about John, Dave, Rose, and Jade. The main four we had been following like it was. This is how I would rewrite Homestuck.

#homestuck #Beta Kids #Beta Trolls #Alpha Trolls #Alpha Kids #Jack Noir #Lord English #Caliborn #Calliope #HS Caliborn #HS Calliope #Caliborn Cherub #Calliope Cherub #her imperious condescension #Hivebent #Dancestors #Dancestor

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