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I’m Alright, I’m Okay

Summary:

The kids have finally beat Sburb, but instead of sending them to Earth C, a game glitch sends them back to pre-game earth, trapping the Alphas in their splinter-selves bodies.

 

Aka, a Strider Feelings Jam That Also Has Other Characters In It

Notes:

Hi. I can’t write Homestuck fics, but by god I’m gonna try.

Also there is no beta for this. If there are any mistakes in grammar please tell me!

Tw: body dysphoria, panic attacks

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: [edited]

Chapter Text

Jane>> Wake.

 

Your name is JANE CROCKER, and a few seconds ago, you are very sure that you WERE NOT IN THIS BODY. This body that feels weak, brittle, and far too ancient to be yours. Even if you are technically a god.

 

You are laying on the ground, having just opened your eyes, to a too-bright ceiling, and walls, and EVERYTHING, and are now staring at the house that is yours, and at the same time, not. You try and move, and feel an ache in your joints that was not there before. And then you look down at your hands.

 

They’re wrinkled, and spindly, like you soaked them in soapy water for too long.

 

Oh boy.

 

Something is wrong. Something is SO wrong, you don’t even know where to start. You feel your breathing picking up a little as you stare down at the rest of yourself, now in a sitting position.

Calm down, Crocker. You can do this.

 

You’re still in your god tier maid outfit, which doesn't quite fit you right. It’s too loose around your shoulders, which is WRONG because your god tier gettup has always fit you PERFECTLY, thank you very much.

You take a few deep breaths, which appear to be futile, but the rhythm is familiar and grounding, so that’s..... something?

 

This house is NOT yours. That’s for sure. Not the one you lived in at least. There are jesters. EVERYWHERE. You don’t like it very much. You appear to be seated in front of the fireplace, an urn toppled over, but there are no contents inside. Odd, but not the oddest thing.

 

There’s footsteps on the stairs, and you tense, just as a young man comes around the corner.

 

It’s John. He stares. His mouth is open, glasses askew.

 

You stare at each other, your heart hammering in your chest, until he finally manages to say, “Nanna?”