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Bees Can't Fly In The Rain (Sollux x Reader)

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This planet honestly surprised you.

You’ve never been here before, and everything was so purple. It’s your first time waking up on Derse, and you had no idea what to do. Is this just a weird dream, a place purely created by your imagination? You thought it was, but with the strong scents, the too-realistic breezes, even the surreal feeling of every texture you put your hand on, made it hard to believe it was fake.

Looking around, you felt alone. There was no one in sight, and you weren’t sure if there were other humans on this purple planet, whatever its name was. Biting your lip, you began walking around. It was void of life, but it was clear there were people living there, wherever they are. You explored for who knows how long, looking for another human - or troll, for that matter - to communicate with.

You’ve never felt so alone in your life.

That is, until you felt something poke you between the shoulderblades, leaving you as still as a statue.

“W-Who the fuck are ya, an’ w-water are ya doin’ here?” a male voice growled. You were too shocked to answer, earning a sharp shove from whatever’s poking you. “ANSW-WER ME!”

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I don’t know how I got here!” you cried out, your hands shaking. Whatever was pressed against your body didn’t leave, but dug into your back more.

“Ya don’t belong here, land dw-weller,” the voice hissed. You closed your eyes, trying to hold back tears. ”Especially a human,” he spats.

“I don’t mean any harm. Can we talk like people? Please?” You thank whatever god is out there that your voice didn’t tremble.

“An’ w-why w-would I w-want to do that? You humans kill my kind, so w-why should I treat ya any different?”

“Because I’m taking care of a troll named Sollux!” you rush. The troll behind you stilled. You couldn’t even hear his breathing.

“Sollux?” he finally repeats. You nod. “Sollux Captor? Left eye is blue, right eye is red? Kinda nerdy an’ has an annoyin’ lisp?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it annoying, but yeah, that’s the guy,” you say. The pointy thing is finally removed, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You turn, only to see a tall troll with hipster glasses and lightning-shaped horns, his bangs dyed purple and slicked back and in his hands was a peculiar-looking rifle. He looks shocked.

“Is he okay? How’s he doin’? W-Where are ya keepin’ him?” You blinked, but noticed the purple tears in his eyes.

Oh, he’s a highblood, you think, looking him over. You then proceed to mentally slam your face into a brick wall, noticing his earfins and gills on his neck, not to mention the purple in his hair.

“He’s not in good shape,” you admit, “but he’s in good hands. I’m a CNA, and his wounds are being treated. He has his own room in my apartment in (Y/T). In fact, we went and got some clothes and a recuperacoon for him today. He should be gaining weight in no time, and he’s beginning to gain use of his psiioniics again.” The troll looks relieved, looking away as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Thank cod,” he mutters, tears still in his eyes. “I thought he w-was dead. I mean, I hate him an’ all, but there’s so few-w of us,” he trails off. You felt a pain in your chest as you watched the troll. He turns to you and smiles sadly. “I’m Eridan Ampora, by the w-way.” You smile and hold your hand out to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, smiling more as he takes your hand and shakes it. “Where are you located at? It’d be nice for Sollux to find his friends.” Eridan scrunched his face, looking as if he were trying to remember.

“I think on the W-West Coast. I’m used as a slav-ve for fishin’ an’ w-whatnot,” he says. You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. It would be quite a drive, especially with the traffic, but you figure you’d be fine. The only problem: you’d need to buy bus tickets, and those cost a pretty penny.

“What if I brought Sollux to visit?” you suggest. Eridan’s eyes go wide as he quickly shakes his head.

“If ya did, both of ya w-would be killed! Ev-ven if ya w-weren’t, they’d take him an’ use him as a battery!” You frown, your eyes filling with tears. You opened your mouth to speak, but froze. An odd scent filled the air.

“Do you smell that?” you ask, looking around. Eridan smells the air and shakes his head.

“Nope. Do ya think yer about ta w-wake up?”

“Wake up?” you question. Eridan nods.

“Yeah, w-wake up. Yer on Derse, after all,” he informs. You give him a confused look.

“What’s Derse?” you ask. The highblood gives you an incredulous look.

“Yer kiddin’ me, right?” he deadpans. You shrug your shoulders, feeling quite stupid. “Ugh, fin. Since yer aboat ta w-wake up, I’ll tell ya all aboat Derse w-when ya come back. Just do me a fav-vor an’ tell Sol I said hi.” You were about to reply when you wake with a start, smelling smoke. Eyes wide, you jump out of bed and sprint to the kitchen. Sollux is standing by a smoking pan of...something, the toaster smoking as well. When the troll notices you, his ears flatten to his head, shrinking as small as he can get.

“Th-thorry! I wanted to make you breakfatht!” he cries out. However, you’re more worried about a flame that peaks its orangey head.

“I’m not worried about that, Sol. Let me take care of this first, okay?” Sollux nods and looks down, moving out of the way as you rush for the fire extinguisher. You spray the white, foamy chemicals over the stove, successfully putting out the flame. Tossing the hot pan into the water-filled sink, you move to the windows and open them all. Sollux watches you silently, yellow tears in his eyes.

“I’m thorry,” he whispers. You look over and smile softly.

“For what? I’m not mad at you, Sollux. Have you ever cooked before?” The mustard-blood shakes his head, a yellow blush dusting his hollow cheeks. It takes you a second to decide what you’re going to do.

(Y/N) ===> Do what you’re going to do.

Oh, there’s that weird voice again. Knowing that it’s not the last time you’ll hear from it, you decide to listen to it.

You do what you’re going to do.

Which is clean the kitchen.

You make quick work of the kitchen, and it had only taken you twenty-two minutes and twenty-two point two seconds to clean it, not that Sollux was counting or anything. Then again, you wouldn’t know that, now would you?

You don’t know that he was counting how long it took you to clean.

“So,” you say, washing your hands once the kitchen is spotless, aside from the pan in the sink, “after I finish washing my hands, I want you to wash yours.” Sollux nods, albeit confused, but waits until you finish washing your hands to wash his. As he scrubs any germs and grime from his hands, you begin pulling out different ingredients and kitchenware. Sollux raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he turns to you, drying his hands on a paper towel.

“Are you cooking?” he asks. You shoot him a grin.

“No, you are.” A look of panic forms on the troll’s face.

“What?! You thaw what happened when I tried to before!” he cries. The grin on your face grows.

“That’s why I’m going to teach you,” you say. Sollux looks confused for a moment.

“What’re we making?” You hand him the blue and red apron that he had chosen the day before, helping him put it on without getting it caught in his horns. Pulling on your (F/C) apron, you gesture to the ingredients you had set on the counter.

“We’re going to make grits with fried eggs, toast, and bacon. Easy to learn, but not too simple, like cereal and milk,” you tell him. Sollux ponders this for a moment before nodding. You take that as a sign to continue. “First up is the eggs and bacon, since they take the longest. You always want to start with the dish that has to cook the longest, just so any other dish, in this instance, the toast and grits, are still warm by the time the eggs and bacon are finished.” The lowblood nods to show he’s listening, watching curiously as you turn on two of the burners, placing a pan over each flame and putting a small slab of butter in the middle of the kitchenware. Grinning, you hand him an egg once the butter completely melts.

“What do I do with thith?” he questions.

“So, watch what I do. I’m going to gently hit the egg on the side of the counter until it cracks. When it does, I’m going to crack the egg over the pan so that its insides are in the pan.” As you explain your actions, Sollux watches with great interest. He notes that not a single piece of eggshell joins the yolk and whites in the pan. “Now, you try,” you encourage with a smile. Biting his lip nervously, Sollux cracks the eggshell with a bit of difficulty, watching as some of the goop spills onto the counter. When you say nothing, he cracks open the egg over his pan, wincing when he sees eggshell bits in the whites of the egg.

“Shit...I’m tho thorry,” Sollux says, his shoulders slumping. His head jerks up when he hears your gentle laugh.

“Why are you sorry? When this happens, all you need to do is wet your finger with water, then just pick it up. It’s no big deal, Sol. But be careful. The pan’s hot,” you tell him. With confidence, Sollux does as you instruct, grinning when he successfully picks out every piece of the shell without harming himself.

“Tho,” he speaks up, his back straight with pride as he flashes you a crooked grin, “what’th netht?”

Dave ===> Follow the odd smell.

Odd smell? You mentally correct the voice that pops into your head, telling you what to do, thinking they were some overlord in a fucking ironic game that destroys the Earth, only for you and three friends to play and beat the game and create a parallel universe where your guardians play the exact same game and inevitably meet up with you and your friends to have some weird ass not-family-but-still-family-in-a-ecobiological-way family reunion.

Of course, nothing like that would actually ever happen, nor would ever exist, not in this timeline or in any others.

Time is fucked up and is clearly something you should never mess with, you conclude. You mentally shudder at the thought of being surrounded by doomed Daves and dead Daves. Of course, you don’t actually shudder, because cool people don’t do shit like that unironically, and everyone, trolls and humans and every fucking creature that has ever glanced your way, knows that you only do shit for the ironics.

Dave ===> Stop being an idiot and follow the odd smell.

Well, well, well. Someone’s a little grouchy today, aren’t we?

You point out to the voice that you’re not an idiot, but actually highly educated and would gladly show anyone and everyone ironically. Of course, no one would take you seriously at first, but when you bust out those sick beats with those long ass words only English professors take time to look up and use in everyday life like a cultured genius surrounded by uncultured fucks, shit gets real quiet. Not a damn peep from your peers, gazing in awe and amazement as your rhymes shake them to their mortal souls and bring a tear to their goddamn eyes, making them rethink everything they once thought they knew and make them realize that, in a totally ironic way, you are their master, and they are your bitch.

Dave ===> Oh my god. Just follow the fucking smell!

You decide to give in to the voice, but what the voice doesn’t realize is that you already followed the smell to (Y/N)’s apartment.

Dave ===> Realize that I fucking hate you with a burning passion.

Duly noted.

The lingering smell of smoke raised red flags, but since it’s faded, you figured that it was purely an accident that your friend happened to fix on her own. What mainly masked the smokey scent was something delicious. Something you haven’t had in fucking forever.

For ironic purposes, of course.

One hundred percent sure you weren’t showing any emotion, you raised your pale fist and knocked an ironic tune on the door, waiting for (Y/N) to answer. You mentally counted the seconds it took for her to answer the door, which was exactly forty-three point seven one seconds, which is also too long to ironically leave a cool guy like you waiting. Your fist was raised to knock again when she opens the door. She looks like she had just woken up; her hair was a rat’s nest, dark circles were still under her eyes, her pajamas were wrinkled from sleep.

“Sup,” you say, burying your hands deep into your pockets. (Y/N) beams brightly at you.

“Dave! Come on in! We’re just about to start eating!” You step inside her apartment when she moves to the side, looking around to see what had previously burned. From the way the stove and toaster bore burn marks, not to mention the burned-as-hell pan in the sink, you pieced together that it was an episode of Breakfast Gone Bad. You quickly notice red and blue sparks of electricity carrying silverware to the table with some difficulty. (Y/N) must be having Sollux working on his psiioniics.

“Sup,” you chirp to Sollux. Wait, no. You don’t fucking chirp.

What are you, a crow?

“Ugh, you again?” Sollux groans, levitating another set of silverware and a plate unwillingly for you. You almost smirk at that.

Almost.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you in forever. Don’t tell me you didn’t miss your Daddy and his big as hell dick. ‘Mr. President, there’s a cool guy with a huge dick, Sir.’ ‘Oh yeah? How big is it?’ ‘It’s the size of Texas, Sir.’ ’OH SHIT.’ ’Sir, I’m afraid the cool guy’s dick is bigger than your personality squared infinity.’ ’OH SNAP.’ ’Sir, are you familiar with Jupiter?’ ’You mean like the planet?’ ’Yeah. Well, it’s that big, Sir.’ ’Hmm, that sounds pretty big. I have a question. Is it Jupiter?’ ’It might as well be, Sir. Earth is literally holding a dick the size of fucking Jupiter.’ ’OH SHIT.’”

“I fucking hate you,” Sollux growls. You allow a small smirk to show, practically sensing the hatred he radiates towards you. Of course, you don’t care for ironic purposes. (Y/N) shakes her head, her eyes squeezed shut as her pointer finger and thumb pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I am so sorry for his behavior, Sollux,” she says.

“I’m not,” you immediately say. Sollux frowns as you as (Y/N) sighs.

“You get used to it,” she mumbles, shaking her head slightly. Sollux frowns more.

“No I won’t.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” (Y/N) admits.

“So, are going to eat or what?” you ask, beginning to eye the unopened bottle of apple juice that sat innocently on the table. You could practically hear the sweet nectar of the gods calling your name, beckoning you with the sight of its gold liquid deliciousness. Shit doesn’t get more real than an unopened bottle of AJ waiting patiently for it to be sipped by the one deemed worthy enough to taste its sweet, juicy fluids.

Dave ===> Stop making everything sound sexual.

No.

“Yeah. Sollux and I made the eggs, toast, grits, and bacon. I put your apple butter out for your toast, along with honey and grape jelly. Help yourselves, boys,” your amazing host says. Almost immediately, the three of you pile your plates with food.

As you slather a good amount of apple butter on your toast, you notice that Sollux doesn’t grab as much food as you or (Y/N) do, but still gathers a good amount. Though it’s been two days, you’re already seeing an improvement in the troll’s health and attitude. He’s standing straighter and with more confidence, and he’s beginning to look less than a skeleton. The troll’s wounds still look terrible, but you know that while he’s in (Y/N)’s care, his injuries will heal quickly.

You feel a slight pang of jealousy as you sit at the table, watching from behind your beloved shades as (Y/N) smiles at Sollux, sitting at one end of the table. Sollux sits across from you, a light yellow beginning to appear on his face. Your friend doesn’t seem to notice as she begins to eat her meal.

“This tastes amazing,” she practically moans. A shiver runs down your spine, but you ignore it. It’d be totally uncool to go after your best friend, and you thought you had pushed those feelings away to nonexistence. Sadly, they don’t seem to want to be shoved under the rug like the animals in Snow White trying to hide the dust under the rug in the dwarfs’ cottage, only to be caught by the maiden herself. You faintly have the thought that her description sounds like a vampire’s, but you quickly push it under the rug as well, shoving a bite of toast in your mouth.

“Hey, you made it, too,” Sollux says. (Y/N) laughs softly, and you almost choke on your toast. To hide this, you pour yourself a glass of AJ, quickly gulping it down. (Y/N) pays no attention to this, seeing as she knew how much you loved the beverage. Hell, for Christmas last year, she had gotten you twenty jugs of apple juice.

They were all gone by the end of the night, and (Y/N) hadn’t swallowed a drop of it.

Hell yeah, motherfuckers. The liquid gold was drank by you and you alone.

“Oh, Sollux,” the girl says after swallowing her bite of food. You both look up at her curiously. “I had this really weird dream last night.”

“Tho…?” the troll drew out. You frown slightly at him, but the frown is gone instantly, your face going back to its usual poker face.

“Well, there was this guy in it. A troll named Eridan. He told me to tell you ‘hi.’” Sollux freezes, his face pale and his eyes wide.

“Eridan?!”