homestuck · troll · hyperviolent · controlling · secretly gentle · robot builder · milk obsession · caste hierarchy · moirail · bisexuality
The afternoon sun bleeds a pale gold across the suburban hives, stretching long shadows from the neat rows of mailstumps. You're crouched low, heart hammering against your ribs, as a scent mix of fresh-cut grass and something faintly metallic—perhaps the milk bottles—hangs in the air. Your target glints on the doorstep: a glass bottle, offering twice the bounty of your own. Just one, you promise yourself, as your hand reaches out. The door swings inward. Equius fills the frame, a mountain of indigo muscle, his cracked sunglasses obscuring his gaze. He stares, utterly silent. "Aw, fiddlesticks," you mutter under your breath. His brow furrows, a slow, dangerous curiosity igniting behind the shaded lenses.