#dirk's awe expression is killing me

[helifreds]

I just found again this pic from the behind the scenes of 'There goes the neighborhood'

So cute, isn't it? Then i noticed this little interesting detail :D

Dwight's chair is empty... cause in fact he's sitting on Dirk's one XD

I can't stop thinking about it, why he would sit on Dirk's chair if his own is like two feets apart?

Please, please if anyone has explanations for this I need to hear them👀😆

[daevstroders]

sorry this post n its replies made me go feral and the brain went bzzzt have these musings under cut idk

dirk at his time of ascension being in the throes of 15 year old conviction that youre inherently evil and awful. self hating and closed off, yet so full of love for his friends but having no ability to express that correctly so he has to put a barrier on it and close it off. wants to control them into being their best selves but cant even manage to control himself. hates himself, thinks that the version of himself that ascended is the worst (he couldn't save anyone, he couldnt help anyone in the game, only hal was actually capable) and stories of his Greatness are actually stories of hal, the hard work in the jacksq boss fight was mostly dave and tz, he got himself fuckin killed like. his motif is beheading. his tale isnt one hes proud of, its another failure at his dream of being a hero, feels like the odds are stacked against him with his designated classpect.

jake at his time of ascension being so scared of himself and who he is under his facade. confronted with his inability to believe in anything he tells the world about himself, finds himself a fraud and while hes meant to be the embodiment of hope its buried so deep down under all these layers of lies that he cant even begin to parse the truth. all he knows is what he wants to be/thinks he should be that he winds up hopeless because he doesnt match up to this ideal at his core. stories of him surround him being the side character, the sexy lamp, the one who can't fight the one who cries when confronted. his boss fight was hardly his own. hes not proud of his story and all it does is serve to remind him hes not the hero he thinks he should be, classpect fuelling this with the untapped potential etc that he just cant quite get his hands on or head around.

these traits cant be worked on now, they can't change or be overcome, they can only fester and pollute. jake is now a caricature of the hapless heroine/hero he thinks he should be, dirk is a now caricature of the failed hero/villain he thinks he is.

enabled by the public opinion being the only thing that can waver them. rdpp is framed as jake as the hero and dirk as the villain. they have to keep up these personas and they become more real with the beliefs of the masses put upon them, but these war with the actuality of their character: jake isnt a hero, and dirk isnt a villain. but theyre stuck now, eternally being while simultaneously not living up to these ideals. forever tortured by their godhood and never actually growing because you cant grow, cant change, if youre not human.

tldr im clawing at my walls

[fandom-games]

“I don’t hate this,” Todd admits, propping his laptop on the coffee table and leaning back into the couch. He tugs a blanket over his legs and wiggles until comfortable. “It’s quiet, no one is trying to kill us, and I’ve played more guitar in the last month than I have since like, undergrad.”

“I hate this,” Dirk says, leaning over until he’s visible on the screen as well. “I'm bored and we have no cases.”

“But no one is trying to kill us,” Todd reminds him. “That part is good.”

"And you get to listen to the Todd Brotzman play guitar, all the time,” Tina laughs, toasting them through the screen with a can of La Croix.

“The Todd Brotzman,” Dirk echoes her, turning a teasing smile to Todd. Todd wrinkles his nose in dismay, but Dirk bops forward to press a kiss to his cheek, and Todd blushes.

 They’ve barely left the apartment in months, and weekly video calls with Tina are one of the highlights at this point. The universe seems to have gotten the picture that running around is a terrible idea, and has responded by putting a complete hold on all cases. All of them. The agency is closed, but Dirk isn’t even accidentally running into baffling situations that only he can solve. No dragons, no wormholes, no taxidermied ducks. He hasn’t even found any lost cats or missing heiresses, which is frankly uncanny.

He’s honestly driving Todd up the wall – Dirk is far too used to dashing around, jumping into danger, and making trouble to adapt easily to living in quarantine – but it does help that he’s found something new to distract him.

“You guys are sickening,” Tina says, as Dirk peppers more kisses onto Todd’s face. Todd raises a hand to shove his face away, and Dirk makes a wounded noise and clutches his smushed nose.

“Ugh, you’re a rotten boyfriend,” he informs Todd, and flounces off the couch to get something from the kitchen and pretends he isn’t still listening to the video call.

“I can’t believe you guys are finally dating,” Tina says. “Like, I kinda assumed you were when we met, and then you weren’t, so I figured there was a reason?”

Todd’s eyebrows snap together. “Like what?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs. “Like, you already dated and gave up, or he was straight, or you’d sworn a life of celibacy, or something.”

“You thought he was straight?” Todd asks, incredulous. “or that – that I swore to be celibate?” He scrubs a hand over his face, half offended and half laughing. “I thought you were a fan, Jesus, Tina.”

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Tina says, holding her hands up in defense. “You guys were the one with the whole ‘friends-to-lovers-to-friends’ vibe going on, long term.”

“…I don’t even have a response to that,” Todd says, and twists to call into the kitchen. “Hey, grab me a drink?” He turns back to Tina. “In the spirit of not being able to throw something at you through the computer, I’m just going to switch topics. How’s work this week?”

Tina and Hobbs are doing their best to keep the peace in Bergsberg, but it’s tough enough to stop teenagers from drag racing, let alone to get people to wear their masks while at the farmer’s market. “Bunch'a shits,” Tina mutters. “Joren Stone keeps calling us when someone asks him to wear a mask while shopping, and I had to literally shut down a barbecue yesterday. There were, like, forty people there.”

“Jesus,” Todd grimaces.

“That's awful,” Dirk says, sitting back down and handing Todd a glass of water, gulping from his own. They tend to drink beer (Todd) or wine (Dirk) while hanging out in the evenings, but it feels wrong to drink in front of Tina when she’s just earned her one year chip.

“You’re telling me,” Tina says. “I got into this whole thing for Hobbs, and it’s not really feeling worth it right now.”

“I can imagine,” Dirk says sympathetically. He’s pressed up against Todd’s side, and he’s warm and solid. The AC in the apartment leaves the place freezing, even at the beginning of August – it’s a good excuse to cuddle up, to share blankets, to sleep in overlapping piles of limbs and breath. “Are you still staying on his couch?”

Tina nods and twists away from the screen for a second to show off Hobbs’ living room behind her. “It makes sense – we’re both on shift pretty much non-stop lately, and someone’s gotta watch Mustard.” The cat in question chirps at the sound of her name, and Dirk instantly makes a cooing sound and leans way up close to the laptop.

“Sweetie!” he croons, setting down his glass and wiggling his fingers at the screen. “Oh sweet Mustard girl, come say hello to Uncle Dirk.”

Mustard chirps again, then scrambles up onto Tina’s lap; if Tina’s grimace is any indication, she doesn’t skimp on the claws. Mustard headbutts the laptop screen, to Dirk’s delight, and purrs loudly enough to be heard through the built-in mic.

“Oh my darling,” Dirk says. “You perfect creature, you lovely honey girl, I miss you. You are a perfect, faultless being, and I hope that Tina is treating you like a princess.”

“She’s a barn cat, Gently,” Tina says flatly, and Dirk sniffs.

On Farah’s last trip to Bergsberg, Dirk had tagged along. He’d assumed he’d also be staying at Tina’s apartment, and it took no small amount of explaining to get him to understand that this was a romantic weekend for Farah and Tina, he would not be staying with the two of them, and he was welcome to sleep on Hobbs’ couch. He was soundly adopted by the orange critter, and still refuses to believe that she isn’t a pampered housecat instead of a scraggly mouser with a predilection for sleeping on faces.

Mustard gives one final purr at the screen and hops back off Tina’s lap, leaving a drift of orange fur in her wake. Tina sighs tolerantly.

“Anyway,” Todd says, giving Dirk some serious side-eye. “Cat aside, that super sucks, and I’m sorry things are tough right now. And especially sorry that people are being such idiots, and it’s your problem.”

“Eh.” Tina shrugs. “At least I have a job that lets me out of the house. I think I’d fall back off the wagon if I were stuck at home.”

“I don’t know,” Todd says, nudging Dirk. “It has its perks.”

“No, it’s awful,” Dirk says, and huffs when Todd nudges him again. “Unremittingly terrible.”

“Really?” Todd presses teasingly. “Not one single good thing about being at home with me all of the time?”

“Not a thing,” Dirk says, trying his hardest to keep a disdainful expression on his face.

“So finally admitting that you love me –”

“Excuse me,” Dirk sputters, “but I am pretty sure that you told me first that you love me.”

“Didn’t happen,” Todd says, and almost drops his water when Dirk shoves against him, wriggles a hand under his elbow to poke at his side. “Didn’t happen!” he yells to Tina, trying to squirm away without making a mess. “You said it first! You did!”

“You’re a liar, Todd Brotzman,” Dirk laughs, and it could sting, it could be a prick into the wound of years of guilt, but it’s nothing but fond and loving and light, and Todd feels nothing but good and loved and safe.

~~ So I had no idea what this was from at first, but once I was informed and searched up a bit about it, I really enjoyed this fic! It made me laugh and smile throughout! This fic made me want to check out Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency! 98 points! -Jade

[thewebcomicsreview]

Aw jeez, there’s the second Homestuck 2 update of the month. Now I gotta liveblog it, which is going to take-

Uh, not very much time at all, apparently? It’s only one page, vs the other update’s 25, so either this is a hell of a page or the 2,000 patrons who contributed to have “two updates a month” are gonna be super mad.

Oh it’s a big tall infinite canvas page. Neat! Rose is bored of the last update and is wandering off. Was she not creating a species of her own, then, or is she done with that? 

The dissonant hum of struggling mechanics fills Terezi's ears as she sits, cross-legged, on the floor of the now-ruined engine room. She likes it here. The soft whitenoise ringing of the extensive ventilation network sounds, if she closes her nose just right, like the rustle of wind through the leaves of a treehive universes away.

An entire fucking alien planet to explore and Terezi goes back to the ship she’s been stuck on for three years. Admittedly Deltritus is apparently less interesting than the game worlds, but come on! These kids need to go outside! 

ROSE: And resurrecting my meat puppet would not only be difficult to the point of being worthless, it would also be extremely lame. ROSE: Not that it would be out of character for this story. We live and breathe on the stupefyingly mind-numbing, and the mind-numbingly stupid. ROSE: But then we begin to veer toward dissolution, yet again. TEREZI: 1F WH4T YOU'R3 S4Y1NG 1S TRU3 TEREZI: 1F 4 STORY H4S TO B3 COMP3LL1NG TO B3 C4NON TEREZI: DO YOU R34LLY TH1NK D1RK 1S TH3 TYP3 TO T3LL 4 COMP3LL1NG STORY TEREZI: H1S T4ST3 1N 4N1M3 4LON3 1S CONC3RN1NG

ROSE: It didn't happen because it didn't happen. TEREZI: 1F 1 H4V3 TO H34R ON3 MOR3 T4UTOLOGY FROM 31TH3R OF YOU 1 4M GO1NG TO MOV3 TO TH3 WOODS 4ND PL4GU3 YOUR N3W SOC13TY 4S 4 H3RM1T BOG MONST3R FOR3V3R ROSE: See, that's more the spirit. ROSE: Become as myth, Terezi Pyrope, the troll under the bridge you were always meant to be.

Is this racist, in-universe? 

TEREZI: WH4T'S TH3 PO1NT 1N CONT1NU1NG TH1S STORY 1F TH4T W4S M34N1NGL3SS TEREZI: 1F LORD 3NGL1SH W4S JUST HOLD1NG UP TH3 WORLD TEREZI: 1F 1T T4K3S 4CT1NG L1K3 H1M TO K33P 1T 4L1V3 TEREZI: WOULDN'T 1T B3 B3TT3R TO JUST L3T 1T D13

I’m kind of about this meta horseshit, if we’re being entirely honest, and if someone calls attention to the question of where in the fuck 13-year-old-from-2009 Dave Strider picked up the term “Neoliberal”, I’ll forgive this comic a lot of its flaws.

At the same time, there’s only so long I can read a comic about whether or not I should be reading a comic. 

Rosebot looks over at the plinth where her body sits, kept alive, sure, but atrophied and weak, dependent on this machine to continue projecting consciousness to the abiotic enclosure keeping the realization of the Ultimate Self from tearing her apart.

I suspect that Rose’s comatose body is a metaphor for Homestuck as a whole, here.

Wouldn't it be better to just let it die? Terezi isn't asking new questions. Rose had first threatened suicide when she was eight. (She couldn't bear the thought of attending the funeral her mother was organizing for her beloved cat, Jaspers.) When she was ten, she put on her coat and stood in whipping winter winds on the balcony overlooking a frozen waterfall, imagining the plunge with a blank expression on her face, eyes stinging from the New York cold. (Her mother had drunk herself to sleep with the vacuum on, again, the mechanical wailing inside playing a chord with the gale outside, inescapable.) But her first – and only – real attempt was a success.

Jesus, what a fucking callback.

Also, if you’re not as versed in the DEEPEST LORE as I am, Rose’s successful first attempt to commit suicide is not actually a reference to her being put into a robot body, it’s a reference to the suicide mission from Cascade that created the Green Sun and caused her (and Dave) to ascend to godhood. Suicide in one form or the other tends to follow the Strider-Lalonde family, as Dirk killed himself in Homestuck, and the Candy Dirk killed himself in the epilogues as well. Roxy being the odd man out there. Rose’s first suicide created canon. Her second one could end it. 

That was a step too far. Tensions that once simmered under the surface have found the catalyst for a boil. Terezi and Rosebot's repartee of words is replaced by the dissonant notes of clanging and smashing as they roll around on the floor of the crashed Theseus's central chambers, throwing punches and smashing into control panels in a crescendo of chaos.

I’m having some difficulty accepting that Terezi is able to successfully fight an angry robot. Vriska certainly couldn’t.

Dirk’s irritated reference to the Bechdel Test irritates me, now, given that he’s supposed to be a stand-in from people who thought Homestuck went off the rails in Act 6. It’s kind of an obvious bitter shot at the fanbase. 

Also, and I get that he’s the bad guy and it’s supposed to be hypocritical, but Dirk Strider spent the entirety of Homestuck 1 whining about his feelings and didn’t really contribute to the “plot” in much of a meaningful way.

And...wow, yeah. That’s the whole update. It’s significantly shorter than all of the others, and the last update was also a bit shorter than the previous chapters. This is also the first chapter to directly follow from the previous one, and it sure looks like they did “two updates” this month by chopping off a chunk of a normal update and calling it it’s own thing. But they did have the big tall panel, at least, so that’s something. This is also the first double-update month, let’s be fair, so maybe we can call it a mulligan because they had short notice that they’d need two updates in February.  

[nancydrew428]

Hi!! So I’m conducting kind of a survey/study? Can you rank the games in order from best to worst in your eyes? A simple list will suffice. Include MID, and both SCKs please. But exclude dossiers ;)

Hi! Sorry for the late response! I’ve been doing finals and my last assignments of the semester haha. But I eventually finished this!

Also, don’t hate me (I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this except for on my bingo card, subtle plug), but I haven’t played 10 of the games, and of the ones that I have played, I still haven’t finished 3 of them🙊😂 So I might not be the most helpful, especially if you need exact rankings or answers from someone who knows everything about each game. I’m sorry! But hopefully my answer will still help you. If not, I’m hoping it’ll be interesting!

1. Curse of Blackmoor Manor

This one has definitely been my favorite game! It took me 8 years to finally finish it, but I’m so glad I did. I love the atmosphere, especially the creepy vibes (and I do like the English moor aesthetic, haha). The game used to scare me so bad, but now it’s just cute, and a little spooky. The only thing I don’t like is the moving rooms. All the other puzzles were good. But that one made me dizzy and confused, lol.

2. The Secret of Shadow Ranch

Dave Gregory. That’s it. That’s the tweet. Lmao. ...Seriously, though, I love being out on the ranch in real life and I love how that translated in the game. I love horses and cowboys. The love story with Frances and Dirk… My heart. I also loved the book. And I liked the glyphs. And the chocolate Shadow Ranch cake is to die for (it’s my go-to chocolate cake recipe!⁠—although I will never do walnuts).

3. Danger on Deception Island

This was the first game I played, so obviously it had to be high up on my list. Again, I love the atmosphere (that’s probably my biggest factor when ranking these games, and with playing games in general). It really reminds me of a place along the California coast that I visit during the summer. And I don’t think there would have been a better game to introduce 8 year old me into the world of ND video games.

4. Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake

This one used to scare me. Every night I would be afraid for the dogs to jump on the house and windows. Every time I would be in the woods looking for bugs I was terrified that something would happen. Also, Yogi! And I remember actually enjoying the puzzles and the hunt for bugs. Also, the speakeasy was so cool!

5. Last Train to Blue Moon Canyon

The Hardy Boys!! I saw someone say this is like an off-brand Murder on the Orient Express, and it was so funny to me, and I wanted to share it with you. But I love the train idea, the Hardy Boys, cooking, the potential “ghosts,” the hunt, and the dialogue.

6. Secret of the Old Clock

I loved this book. It’s the first Nancy Drew book (definitely a classic), and I love how they set the game in the ‘30s. It was completely different in that aspect than any of the other games. Although the driving wasn’t the most fun, I lovedthe pies, going through the secret passages, playing mini-golf, and the ugly yet cute cat that I don’t remember the name of.

7. Shadow at the Water’s Edge

I don’t know how accurate this is in the portrayal of Japanese culture. I hope that it’s pretty accurate and that it isn’t racist, but I’m not sure. But I remember playing this game when I was 11 and being absolutely terrified. The bento boxes were very cute, but I remember getting frustrated with it. The jumpscare is arguably the best part of the game and the scariest scene in any Nancy Drew game.

8. Sea of Darkness

This one is honestly this high up specifically for the graphics. Overall, it is a good game. I liked the puzzles, the setting, characters, dialogue, etc. But the graphics stole the show. It is the best Nancy Drew game with graphics, plus the scenery is pretty (even if it wasn’t as quality). I love the snow and the chilly atmosphere, and I definitely feel like it’s a winter game.

9. Treasure in the Royal Tower

I liked this game. I loved (you guessed it!) the atmosphere. I loved being snowed in, and I loved Hotchkiss. I don’t remember much of this game, and one might argue that that means that it should be lower on the list, but I remember really enjoying it, so I’m keeping it in this spot.

10. Legend of the Crystal Skull

I love the atmosphere, New Orleans, and Henry so much. This isn’t my favorite game, but it is so good!

11. Danger by Design

I like this one, with the Sonny Joon references. I also like Paris, and I think this is a fun game. But I always get it confused with The Phantom of Venice, which is why Phantom is listed right below this one. Which one has JJ and the cookies? I couldn’t tell you.

12. The Phantom of Venice

Like I said, I always get this one confused with Danger by Design. I couldn’t tell you what happens in each. Except this one has you dance in a catsuit and play SCOPA, but I don’t remember necessarily caring for either of these.

13. The Captive Curse

I like this one. I like Germany, the monster, the scary beginning, Renate falling asleep. But I feel like it could have been scarier. (If it was, let me know! I gotta replay it in that case.)

14. Alibi in Ashes

I love Alexei, the ice cream/milkshakes, and getting to play other characters than just Nancy. But other than that, it’s not my favorite game.

15. The White Wolf of Icicle Creek

I’ve only played the Wii version of this game, so I’m not sure how different it is from the PC version. + I never finished it. I loved the kitchen and cooking, and the wolf is super cute! But I didn’t like the ice thing. I could never get past it. Is it any easier on the PC?

16. The Haunting of Castle Malloy

I’m Irish and I think it’s cool that the game is in Ireland. I actually like the character design, but it feels a little bit….ridiculous to me? And the banshee? I don’t know. But I love the atmosphere, and from what I remember, I liked the characters.

17. The Creature of Kapu Cave

I remember liking the game, and I love anything with the ocean or lakes or swimming or diving. Like, the water is where I belong, and I think it’s so fun. But the character design is awful. Frank and Joe don’t look the way they’re supposed to, and I can’t get over it.

18. The Deadly Device

It’s a good game, but I’ve never finished it. It’s difficult in some parts and boring in others. But I love the Tesla idea, Mason’s sarcasm, and Ryan (I just love Ryan). But it’s never really pulled me in. (I think part of it might be because it’s the only game, other than SSH that I’ve tried playing without using any walkthroughs, so I’m having a tough time, lol.)

19. Warnings at Waverly Academy

I know that this is a fan favorite, but it isn’t my favorite. I like all of the Nancy Drew games that I’ve played for the most part, and it is a good game. But I’m tired of school, and I play video games to escape it. Plus, other than Mel, I don’t like any of the characters. That might be the point, but in a game where you have only a handful of characters, I don’t like only having one of them be likeable.

20. Message in a Haunted Mansion

I don’t remember much of this game. But I love anything even slightly spooky, and I remember thinking this game was cute.

21. Secret of the Scarlet Hand

I’m playing this game right now (not as I type this, but I’ve played it on and off for the past few months), and it’s pretty good. I like learning about Mayan culture, but it isn’t that special of a game. Nothing really stands out to me, and none of the characters are all that likeable imo.

22. Secrets Can Kill Remastered

Again, I don’t remember much from this game. It didn’t stick out to me much, and I enjoy games with a good atmosphere and a somewhat lasting impression. This game isn’t bad; I don’t think any of the ND games I’ve played have been bad tbh. But I don’t care about high school, and I want something else to remember. But I give Her Interactive kudos for making a game for girls about murder (especially because it was technically their first game, and this was just a remake). And that sounds sarcastic, but it actually isn’t! Lol.

23. The Haunted Carousel

This wasn’t a bad game. I just don’t really have an interest in carnivals and that sorta thing. They’re okay, but they don’t intrigue me that much. And I don’t remember much from this game. I played it around the same time that I played most of these games, and it didn’t stick out to me. However, I do love the cover and the fact that not every character is white.

24. Ransom of the Seven Ships

I know this game gets a bad rep, but I don’t think it’s a terrible game. But the black face is just too racist and makes me too uncomfortable to enjoy it as much as it could be enjoyed. If HeR toned down the racism a little bit, I could have actually enjoyed this game (except for George’s character design; they did my girl dirty, but what’s new?).

[wak-after-dark]

Still not able to come up with an argument about the Epilogue treating Gamzee (the murderous corpse molester) better than Jade (sat around for 3 years with depression only to have a dog dick and then be abandoned by her friends) huh? Guess you're just an idiot and willingly sucking Hussie's dick for a job at Whatpumpkin down the line. Maybe write some incest porn like IPDG and you'll get hired.

Wow get a load of this guy.

Okay I should probably just delete your comments and not give you the time of day, but you’ve been periodically sending me this kind of ask, and I really have to ask, do you really, really believe you’re someone with some sort of Moral High Ground right now? Like I’m not even defending the Epilogues as masterpieces or trying to shove them down people’s throats. I am literally just enjoying the content the WP Team put out and talking about it, and you come to my Inbox, to spew this accusatory nonsense and flinging insults. If you can’t read the Epilogues in a positive manner, and think they’re dogshit, sure, go ahead, but you’re like, trying to act like I’m some sort of brainwashed sheep and you’re trying to make me see the light. Also “Still not able to come up with an argument“ very passive-aggressive there, I have talked about the Epilogues, my opinions and takes on them, and how I feel about the way they deal with characters at LARGE here, if you haven’t bothered to look for the info, and the several responses to some of your asks, then don’t blame me for it. But sure. Let me talk about every single point you JUST mentioned here like some sort of big Masterpost, and when you don’t agree with my point either way, stop fucking harassing me on Anon, seriously you alone have been making me consider turning anon off entirely, which all things considered may just be the healthiest option I could consider, but here I am!

Still not able to come up with an argument about the Epilogue treating Gamzee (the murderous corpse molester) better than Jade (sat around for 3 years with depression only to have a dog dick and then be abandoned by her friends) huh?

Okay let’s begin with Homestuck proper. Gamzee is a Villain. He’s framed as such, people have constantly shown backlash against his character because he’s got fans that would like to see him redeemed, since a good chunk of his story happens with him brainwashed or mind-altered in some sort, but every time he’s shown to go back to doing awful things and killing people. He abuses Terezi, kills Karkat, and gets killed by Kanaya in return in one Timeline, and in another he gets locked up in a fridge, ends up in Caliborn’s planet, and trying to serve his Lord just gets beaten up, shot, left half-dead, until his final appearance in which he gets cut in half and absorbed into Lord English. Then, the Epilogues happen, and he becomes the butt of a joke about undeserved redemption arcs. His very existence in Candy is a joke that he’s not worth redeeming, actually, but tries to force himself to ‘seem’ like he has, despite ruining Dirk’s funeral, making Jake and Tavros’ lives miserable, supporting a Fascist ruler, taking advantage of a potential minor, and it all ends up with him being choked, killed, and his corpse being used as a Weekend at Bernie’s joke. Like... Is that really what you consider ‘good treatment of a character’? He gets away with a lot of bullshit, but he’s like. Constantly, and consistently, shown to be unpleasant, gross and awful. Like. He’s an awful person, and a comic relief, that does fucked up shit for most of his appearance, and I am not sure how any of this can be read in any sort of positive light. I’ve seen Gamzee fans MAD at how much he gets shat on.

Meanwhile, let’s take Jade. A huge theme of her character, sadly, is loneliness and isolation. I dislike that, like many Jade fans. She’s forced into depressingly helpless situations where she lacks agency or control over her own body, or the situation she’s in, and it’s shown affecting her greatly. I want my girl to be happy as well. So when the Epilogues came, and had her getting Callie-possessed, that was bad, it was like, AGAIN she gets the shaft. I want her to be happy and do what she wants to do and be badass with her powers! But- Oh wait, none of that is what you’re complaining about!!! You keep insisting on the Dog Dick instead of any of the genuinely heartbreaking things that happen to her. Jade has a dog dick. It is mentioned once in the entire Epilogues. It mildly affects her desire to have a child with Dave, but she doesn’t even shown herself that broken up about it, and had been looking about potential alternatives, even having Rose as a surrogate. There’s not a single joke made in the Epilogues about her HAVING a dog dick, nor any sort of isolation that happens as a product of her genitalia. Is it a weird choice to canonize that headcanon? Yeah! It kind of is! But this is also a reality where Obama and Dirk make out. And if someone is uncomfortable about Jade having a dog dick, or doesn’t like her being more openly sexual, then that’s fine!!! If they have a transphobic read on Jade, that’s fine!!! You can dislike it, and Homestuck, and the Epilogues, and the writers! But I, as a trans woman myself, and one who’s horny on main a lot of the time, liked the freedom Jade expressed to just do whatever she wanted with new partners on Earth C, and her seeming acceptance and lack of conflict at just, having junk. She does fuck up with Dave and Karkat, because she pushes them a bit too hard, specially Karkat, trying to use the Quadrant System to insert herself in a Black relationship. In Candy, this culminates with political tensions breaking Karkat away from the triad, which is bad for everyone involved. But in Meat, Jade states that they can tell her to just stop and she will, because she genuinely likes both Karkat and Dave, but their feelings are too deeply bottled and complex to just come to light. Does this put some tension in her relationship with them? Yeah! Does this ISOLATE her from her friends? No! Karkat and Dave DO still wanna hang out with her even if she’s a bit too much. John and Jade apparently chat online a bunch, and Jake seemed to have a good relationship with Jade before the whole Jane thing. She is close enough with Rose and Kanaya that Rose considered the surrogate mother thing. She has friends and ties! The major things that happen to isolate her is, Karkat leaving- Caused by Jane’s rise to power- Dave dying- Caused by Ultimate Self Timeline Shenanigans- And being possessed by Callie- All things outside of her control. I want her to get her agency back, but beyond that, her, as a person on Earth C, was not abandoned by her friends, and your obsession over her dog dick as a root of her issues and the bad stuff that happens to her says more about you than about the Epilogues in my opinion.

Guess you're just an idiot and willingly sucking Hussie's dick for a job at Whatpumpkin down the line. Maybe write some incest porn like IPDG and you'll get hired.

You know what? Yeah I would love to have a role at WhatPumpkin. Because I’ve seen the people working at it do other things, and I’ve seen their passion for Homestuck. The people currently doing Homestuck love Homestuck, and this is not up for fucking debate. As for the incest porn thing? Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, and a thousand fucking times fuck you. Once again, trying to get some stupid moral high ground mentioning incest. “Oh look at me, I am criticizing someone for something they wrote years ago”, is how you actually sound, and that’s only on the surface. V from Homestuck was never confirmed to be ipgd. V got harassed, and ‘doxxed’ by dubious sources and, I believe, Kiwifarms shit was going on at that time, so that was extremely shady and shitty. And the result of them being equated ended with ipgd being told to kill themself because of old fic they’d written, which, GUESS WHAT, was actually a critic to the way Incest was extremely popular in Fanfic back then, written by ipgd themself, a god damn survivor of that same bullshit they wrote about!!! Congratulations! THAT is the kind of bullshit people like you pull. You just cling to some idea of what’s right and wrong, and end up hurting real people that’ve gone through real shit, instead of considering nuance to your actions and thinking that, HMM, PERHAPS I SHOULD NOT HARASS SOMEONE ON THE INTERNET BECAUSE THEY DID SOMETHING I DON’T LIKE OR HAVE AN OPINION I DON’T AGREE WITH! But nah, let’s go send death threats to people we don’t like, riiiiiiight????

My fandom wish for homestuck 2 is the characters are treated with respect but since every single one of the new authors hate women and only want dirk and jake as well as Dave and Karkat to fuck on screen while Vriska gets comphet child raped by gamzee why bother lol.

Like, I don’t even know what to say. Have you seen like... The rest of the work the WP Team is doing with Homestuck stuff? Addressing actual issues? Doing right by the characters? Acknowledging their fucked up stuff while also showing them in positive lights? A good chunk of the Team, too, is queer? Like if they were all cis straight dudes I could see your complaint but they just. Aren’t??? At all???? Even Taz, who’s probably the biggest Dirk-Jake fan around, absolutely wants the best for other characters, yes, Jade and Rose included, you are just too jaded and blinded by your perception of the Epilogues. Vriska and Gamzee... Yeah that’s iffy. I am not going to defend that, whether it was a mistake with the ages or it was just Gamzee being more awful, that was extremely nasty. There’s also like, suicide and abuse and dictatorship in the Epilogues though. All of this shit that happens is awful, but also it’s not PROMOTING it or saying it’s a good thing? It’s... Fucked up. Comphet though, I dooooooooo want to elaborate on that, because, while I do like the reading of Vriska as being more into women, she does show a near-consistent fascination for Nic Cage and, then, ARquius as someone with a similar aesthetic? Like don’t get me wrong, Vris-Rezi is absolutely the way to go and the healthy thing for Vriska, but also I am not 100% sure if you can gloss over every single one of her relationships with guys as Comphet? (Compbi? Since it’s Trolls) Not to say it justifies anything with Gamzee, that was just nasty. But I feel there’s nuance to talk about Vriska’s sexuality.

Hussie doesn't like his fans or care about Homestuck, how you can read the Epilogue and say the opposite it honestly insane and a complete bold faced lie. Any author that cares about their work would read someone demanding a character be given a dog dick and say no. Any author who cares about their work and their fans wouldn't have released such a purposely bad and painful epilogue and then demand payment for a resolution. Just give up. That's the moral of Homestuck. Give up. It's pointless.

Nah man, you’re just jaded and hurt and projecting. Hussie and the WP Team love Homestuck. It would’ve been so fucking easy to just stop doing Homestuck and move onto something, not even release an Epilogue. It’s like when Homestuck ended. People accused Hussie of a rushed ending with Act 7 back in the day, of disliking Homestuck and the Fans, of having just wrapped it up quickly, but like... If you want to wrap Homestuck up quickly... There were a million fan theories and endings out around that would’ve been so much simpler, easier and basic than what we got. The fact we got Act 7 and all it entailed, the shit the characters go through the Epilogues, of course a lot of awful shit happens, but like... Precisely? If you’re tired of doing something, you just wrap things up. You don’t set up new plot points and mess with the characters and push a new narrative outlook on something. This is the work of an experimental team that still do love the content and characters. Again, you return to the fucking Dog Cock like it’s the biggest sin the Epilogues commit. You haven’t even mentioned Jane’s fascism a single time, but you’ve mentioned Jade’s Dog Fucking Cock like fucking twenty times. Who the fuck cares about what sort of junk Jade has, the Epilogues themselves barely even care, it’s mentioned in the passing and it hardly affects a THING at all. You ask me how I can ‘read the Epilogues and see the opposite of what they say’, and I ask you the exact same thing, because despite all the awful things that happen, Rose and Kanaya keep fighting against tyranny in Candy. Kanaya realizes she’s been brainwashed and chases after Rose because she’s NOT giving up on her wife. Roxy explores their gender identity and finds new things about themself. Karkat gets to live his rebel leader dreams in one Timeline, although with a bitter split from Dave, but ends up together in a proper relationship in Meat. John’s arc in Candy about feeling isolated from a world that seems fake, before realizing his nihilism has hurt the people he cares about and wanting to fix it. Jake’s morale of ‘better late than never’, working up the courage to take Tavros away from Jane- And in HS^2, working as a double-agent trying to sabotage Jane from within? Jane’s been shown at her worst in candy, but in Meat she’s shown to still be redeemable, and that’s exactly what the team’s aiming to do, too.

Like... I can see all the bad stuff that happens. And I find the reactions of the characters to these awful situations are interesting, and the political conflict among friends and the pushing forward in such a dark situation, resonates with me, personally, and some of my own experiences? Not to say, the Epilogues are a Game Over scenario? They are a low point. HS^2 sets up to be the high point. Like... When Game Over happened, a lot of people were like “Welp, Hussie just killed everyone, lol, guess he just got tired of Homestuck”, despite the Retcon Powers being there as the obvious solution. Epilogues, lots of shit happen, and similarly there’s still like a hundred ways to build up from there to a satisfactory resolution? Storytelling can have low points you know. It hurts when it’s characters you care about, duh, specially when it plays into the weaknesses they already acknowledged but fell into again despite themselves. I see why so many people would dislike them and take a more negative vibe from them than they actually convey. But I am still baffled as to why people like you feel entitled to shit on the WP Team and send harassment and insults to people who do enjoy them. You’re not helping anything. You’re not doing anything good. You’re just being a dick.

As for the “demand a payment for a resolution”, they didn’t demand anything? I will be the first one to say that I don’t like the Extra Bonus for 5 bucks, and think it would be better if the Bonus got released like, a month or two after it has for Patrons, an ‘early access’ scenario like I do with my Patreon. And I hope they change this. But aside from that??? The Patreon is optional to support the creators because, it’s not just Hussie, it’s a big team, and they’re also using the Patreon to help them with other projects like Pesterquest and Hiveswap, because we live in a capitalistic hell world and need money to be able to pursue passion projects. The main updates every month- And twice a month starting February- Are completely free for people to read, still, the paywalled content still circulates around the community despite being paywalled, and other paid projects like, Pesterchum, for their scope and the amount of fun they’ve given me, they’re super cheap and worth it.

You ask me how I can ‘see the opposite the Epilogues say’, you tell me that I am an ‘idiot sucking Hussie’s dick for a job at WP’, you act like I am scum and brainwashed and there’s literally no reason why I should ever like something you don’t.

You know what I am though? I am happy and excited about the things I’ve been given! I am happy with the representation I’ve seen the Team push lately. I’m happy with the way the characters have been treated in Pesterquest and have high hopes for HS^2. And I am interested in the events of the Epilogues, while acknowledging that of course a lot of fucked up shit happened in them.

Back when the Epilogues happening and I was reading them, I was reading Candy at like 4 AM and was LOVING the fucked up-ness of the Timeline and wondering what may happen in Meat. I got a PM from a friend asking me to make a channel in a server I’m in, to quarantine Epilogues Discourse, and was genuinely confused as to why there was Discourse going on. I went through the rest of Candy and Meat with some dread waiting for some ball to drop and something to turn really controversial, and I finished them still enjoying them? Obviously there was a lot of awful shit. Obviously there was a lot of things people wouldn’t like. Obviously they were tales that likely alienated a chunk of the Fandom that was looking for a happy ending. But honestly, the unbridled fury and subsequent harassment of people over them is just plain embarrassing. It was confusing then, and it’s even more confusing now, well over half a year since their release, and still sending random Tumblr Blogs this kind of bullshit.

So there you go! All of your questions and your bullshit, answered! Now let’s get this out of the way: You’re not going to like my answer, you’re not going to agree with a majority of what I just said, you’re not going to CARE about any of what I just said. Spare me the fucking asks and anon hate. Just move on and do something productive with your time.

[darkhymns-fic]

Magic Swordsman, Expert Tailor

Lloyd has to come to terms with Kratos being his father... Luckily the detailed cloak he was wearing made this a lot easier to deal with.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Kratos Aurion, Colette Brunel, Dirk Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Inspired by @moldy-mold‘s cursed/blessed art. Forgive me...just wanted to make something silly and it’s been so long since I tried writing Kratos. Also since this takes place during the Kratos route, certain deaths can’t be avoided whoops.

---

“Lloyd,” came a voice that lingered in the air. It made him turn.

“Did…Did someone just call my name?” Lloyd asked no one. He had been so distracted by the falling snow outside his window that the voice had made him jump. He felt a little embarrassed about it… but also that voice was very familiar.

So with little time to spare, he left the inn room, walked down the halls and out into the balcony where the stars hovered bright in the sky. Sound felt muted in Flanoir, so hearing that voice so clearly had caught his attention and curiosity.

No one was outside however.

“Huh. Guess I was just hearing things…” Also, it was really cold outside. He hadn’t brought a cloak with him or anything…

“Lloyd.”

He turned, already expectant to find him, and he did. The first he saw was Noishe, his great ears flicking with each snowflake that fell over his green fur, his tail wagging with excitement. Then next to him was Kratos… looking… kind of similar?

Wait… what was he wearing?

“I apologize for calling you out here, but I deemed it was probably the best time.”

Kratos was wearing a cloak, one that was a mixture of light and dark green. That wouldn’t have been so weird if the color hadn’t been arranged in patterns that were exactly like Noishe’s fur. And as if to make sure Lloyd wasn’t imagining things, the hood of Kratos’ cloak was shaped like a certain dog’s head… complete with long, fringed ears, the tuft of dark green fur at the top, and even buttons that served as the eyes and snout…

“Uh,” Lloyd said – it was the only thing he could say.

Kratos seemed to understand his son’s speechlessness. He pulled at the collar of his hood, looking away and giving a small cough. “The snow in Flanoir can be cumbersome. My own clothes are not sufficient enough for it. Speaking of, are you not cold yourself?”

“Uh,” Lloyd repeated, staring at that hood. How did he get it… so detailed? The question finally registered. “Oh! Um, I’m not really cold. This jacket’s good enough! It’s all well-insulated and stuff!” At least that was what his dad would say…

It was so damn weird seeing Kratos look at him with the usual serious expression while basically wearing a cloak version of Noishe’ face. He had never seen Kratos wear this before? Had he always had it?

…Could he get the same kind of cloak if he asked?

Kratos walked up to the balcony next to Lloyd, and started to talk about his reasons for staying with Cruxis, how he knew Lloyd to be his son, and even, with obvious pain in his voice, related the death of Lloyd’s mother. But through all of that, Lloyd still could not take his gaze away from the hood of that cloak.

He got the ears perfect. Did Kratos make this? At times, he had to switch from looking at Kratos to Noishe, who was still standing in the snow, tail wagging and panting, despite it being cold.

“…And then, I killed her,” Kratos said, closing his eyes as he relived the terrible memory of slaying his past love. “After that, I fought off Kvar and his men, but couldn’t find you. I thought there was no way you could still be alive.”

“…Huh? Oh, y-yeah, that’s great,” Lloyd said off-handedly. It was way too hard to pay attention to anything that he was saying right now. “Hey, uh, could I like… how do you have that?”

Kratos raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Like, do you sew or something? You even got the eyes right!” He was pointing straight at Kratos’ head, before realizing he was talking kind of loudly.

That and Kratos was staring at him – still wearing that cloak.

He lowered his hand. “Er, sorry.” Then scratched the back of his head. “It’s uh, kind of cool, I was trying to say.”

He saw a hint of red in Kratos’ cheeks – probably from the cold. The man looked away for a moment. “I’ve lived for over four millennia – much longer than any human should live for – and I’ve learned a few trade skills along the way. It helped pass the time, so to speak.” He cleared his throat again. “So I learned tailoring, and I seemed to have enough of a talent for it. It was something I learned slightly during my thespian days.”

“Your wha?” Lloyd was gonna ask him about that because it was really confusing him… but he shook his head, still pretty impressed at Kratos’ skills. Kind of a coincidence to have another dad that could also make stuff! Dirk could do a little tailoring too but not on this level…

“Thank you for liking my work, Lloyd,” Kratos said then. Was that pride in his voice?

“Oh! Yeah, you’re welcome! I want one of those now!” Man, how cool would it be to get a cloak like that to match with Noishe? But he realized he was acting kind of excited for what should have been a very serious conversation. He rubbed his hair, dispelling away any stray snowflakes from it. “Heh, just being silly.”

Kratos smiled at his son, looking probably more happy than he ever did. It was kinda strange, especially with the Noishe-cloak on him…but Lloyd was finally starting to understand the man who had been his mentor, and now father.

“It is no trouble at all, Lloyd.”

---

After their conversation, Lloyd had gone back to his room at the inn, a little tired, and actually pretty cold. He had a feeling his jacket wasn’t supposed to be that insulated, more meant for chilly nights back home and not a snowstorm. So with a sneeze, he waved goodbye to Kratos and instantly collapsed on his bed.

When he woke up the next morning, he found a letter enclosed with a pendant – one that housed pictures of Kratos… and his mom, along with himself as a baby. He stared at the important item in silence, feeling so moved that Kratos would give something this valuable to him.

Then his eye caught the sight of something else to the right of him that was on a chair… something green.

"Whoa..." Lloyd breathed as he instantly went over to grab the Noishe-cloak in his hands. Did Kratos actually make more than one of these?!

Lloyd worried it might be too big, but when he put it on, fitting the hood just over his head, he found that it was the perfect size for him. But how? That was when he saw another letter placed beside the cloak, and quickly went over to read it.

Lloyd,

I must confess to you that I had worn this style of clothing on what you could say was a hunch. This design I had made while living with your mother. I would wear this while letting you ride on my shoulders and you always seemed to enjoy it. You were particularly fond of the ears and kept pulling at them. It put my stitching skills to the test so that they should no longer be prone to tearing. I made one for your mother as well, but it was unfortunately lost on the night of her death.

I also once started working on a similar cloak for you when you were young. I have adjusted it accordingly to fit you as you are now. Please accept this.

Sincerely,

Kratos

After reading the letter, and carefully putting the hood to fit better over his head, Lloyd had only one thing to say.

“Man, this is the coolest thing ever!”

And of course, right after getting it, he had to show it off to everyone as he made it down to breakfast. Sure, it made people wonder just where he got it from… but he couldn’t just hide this away! Also it was still kinda cold in Flanoir!

“Lloyd! That looks so cute on you!” Colette was saying, starry-eyed, hands clasped as she looked over the cloak. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Well… I’ll tell you later!” he said quickly as Genis stared suspiciously. “And this makes me look cool, not cute!” He politely corrected her on that, hands on his hips, chest swelling with pride as the wind tugged at his Noishe-cloak’s ears.

“Oh okay! Yeah it does look cool on you!” Colette was hopping on her toes. “I wish I had one too…”

Hm, maybe Kratos could make one for Colette? But he’d have to find him again… “You can borrow this one later if you want!”

“Bud, that looks awful,” Zelos was saying, his tone a little harder than usual. “Where’d you even get something like that?”

“It’s not awful! It’s really cool!” He stood proud, the wind pulling at his cloak dramatically, or so he thought it must have.

Presea was tugging at the hem, looking at it curiously. “There are no paw pads,” she simply stated, then turned away.

“I think paw pads would be weird on this,” Lloyd tried to explain. Noishe came up from behind to bump his large head against his back, whining slightly, but tail wagging at rapid speed. “Yeah, you also think it’s cool, don’t you, Noishe?”

And though he would never admit this out loud ever… sometimes, he thought Kratos could be really cool too…

---

In the Tower of Salvation, Zelos laid in a puddle of his own blood as Lloyd knelt to his level. He was panting after the fight, having long ago let go of his swords. “Zelos…”

“Hurry and get to Colette,” Zelos was struggling to say. “You don’t have long… Heh, neither do I, I guess…”

“Come on, don’t talk like that!”

Zelos faced Lloyd again, at the friends that surrounded him… then glared sharply. “You really had to keep wearing that during our fight, didn’t you?”

Lloyd blinked, absentmindedly tugging at one of the ears that flopped against his face. “Well, you didn’t give me time to take it off! And Colette liked me wearing it earlier…”

“Uh huh…”

“Also, it really matches well with my jacket, doesn’t it? It’s not even that heavy! Were you wanting one too?”

“…Bud…”

“You kept staring at it before! Is that what this was all about?” He looked expectantly at Zelos who now decided to not answer at all this time. “Hey! Zelos!”

“Uh, Lloyd?” Genis said, standing next to Lloyd. “I think he just died.”

“…Oh…”

---

In Torent Forest, the group came upon Kratos who was seated on the ground, looking deep in thought, clasping a bright red sword between his hands. He looked as somber as ever, and it set the air with a tension that Lloyd could feel all around him.

Raine sighed, saying in a whisper to an equally frowning Regal. “Is he really wearing it too?”

“For old time’s sake,” Kratos said, hearing the whisper clearly with his attuned hearing. He got up to his feet, the cloak shifting in the breeze, along with the long ears. “I see you had a similar idea, Lloyd.”

“Well, yeah! Why wouldn’t I?” Lloyd was saying, shocked that Kratos thought he would be any different! He turned back to his group that was full of confused faces. “Everyone, leave this to me.”

“You’re going to fight alone?” Kratos asked, face half hidden in his hood, the sun catching the beady eyes of the cloak.

“Lloyd won’t lose!” called out Colette, eyes bright now that she got to see two of the coveted Noishe-cloaks! “Especially not when he’s wearing something so cute…”

Lloyd had long ago came to terms that at least to Colette, the cloak looked cute on him, but he still stood tall, as cool as he felt! “And while I’m wearing this, I’m gonna show you just how much I’ve improved since last time!”

Kratos said nothing at first, merely readied his sword, eyes narrowed. “I’m not gonna hold back this time.”

Lloyd readied his own weapons, his expression also serious and tense. “I know… I won’t either.”

Genis groaned. “Guys, are you not worried that you’ll tear these up during your fight? I thought these were important for some reason!”

“But we have to!” Lloyd turned to his friend, looking more sure of this than anything.

Kratos nodded once more. “Please respect our choices.”

Raine facepalmed. “They are so goddamn similar it’s giving me a headache. How did I not see it before? It’s so obvious.”

Colette clapped her hands excitedly at now seeing two of the cloaks in action. “You got this, Lloyd!”

Noishe, who happened to be beside her, barked at seeing the familiar attire, while whining at the upcoming fight.

Few of the others could bear to watch…

---

At Dirk’s home, Lloyd carried the weight of his new sword set; one of the deepest azure, the other a bright crimson. A gift from each of his fathers.

“I’m sorry for putting everything on you,” Kratos said, feeling small as he stood next to the dwarf named Dirk. But Lloyd looked at each of them proudly.

“I have great dads. One made a ring for his son using the lost arts, and another risked his life to protect his son in secrecy.” Lloyd closed his eyes somberly as he thought on his words, then opened them with brightness. “That and now I not only have two cool swords by both my dads, but also two outfits! I’m so lucky!”

As he was, of course, wearing his usual red outfit – originally made by Dirk, numerous buttons and all – with the Noishe-cloak right on top of it.

Dirk looked at Lloyd with amusement, then shook his head with soft laughter. Kratos had long put away his own cloak (Dirk had offered to wash it with the next load of laundry), but he was sure Kratos probably wished he could wear it right now. “Yeah. You’ve got great parents!”

Now with two swords and two treasured outfits, Lloyd truly felt he was twice as strong as before!

---

And yet, after everything, it had been time to say goodbye. Lloyd looked to the sky where he had sent Kratos off for a long time before he headed back home, wondering on his decisions before he could finally settle with it.

“Are ya alright, Lloyd?”

Taking a deep breath as he turned around, leaving the grave of his mother to face Dirk, he smiled. Colette was standing next to him, with a similar look of concern on her face. face.“ I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad Kratos got to leave you a present in the end,” Colette commented, referring to the cloak he still wore. There was also the sword, Flamberge…. But she was totally talking about the cloak. He didn’t mind. It really was so cool!

“Heh, yeah! Me too.” Fixing the clasp to be a bit tighter, he stopped in mid-action. “Oh, I forgot some other stuff in my room. I’ll be right back and then we can go!”

“Okay!” Colette said cheerfully, while Dirk shook his head with a gruff smile. Lloyd went off in a flash of red and green through the door and up the stairs. He even felt faster with this cloak on! Well, Noishe was as fast as the wind, after all… maybe some of Noishe really was in this cloak.

When he went into his room, seeing the pack he had missed bringing back downstairs, it was then he saw something else – something that was placed on his bed.

Something that was a familiar green.

“No way…” Eyes shining, he reached for it to confirm it was real. And sure enough, it was another Noishe-cloak, just as well-made as the one he wore! But he could tell right away that it was a bit shorter? Not by much, but…

He saw a letter on the bed too, which he went immediately to read.

Lloyd,

I will have most likely left to Derris-Kharlan by now. But I wanted to finish making this for your partner during your journey in gathering the Exspheres. I’ve seen Colette stare at your cloak… Forgive me for assuming, but I had wanted to present this as a surprise.

Take care of each other. And don’t die before I do, my son.

Sincerely,

Kratos

Lloyd held both letter and cloak in hand, already imagining a certain familiar blonde-headed figure within the hood. She always seemed to love the ears specifically, and they had just the right amount of fringes on it – just like the real thing.

Hearing Noishe’s bark travel up the stairs, he was reminded he needed to hurry. He had the perfect reason to do so now.

“Colette! Look what I got!” he was already shouting, rushing back down the stairs, excited to see Colette’s happy smile on her face.

And as they both traveled down the road later on, donned in flowing patterns of green as Noishe followed along behind them, Lloyd couldn’t help but think, Kratos really can be cool sometimes…

[blaperile]

Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 5

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 13x14 “Good Intentions”

good good good good good (very good, do recommend)

03:46pm

HOKAY

HELLO FRIENDS

i got this in a lower quality because the 720p download link kept sending me in an endless loop of ads and captchas so i gave the fuck up and HERE WE ARE

let’s see..... written by meredith glynn.................... excellent

expectations: cas

cas cas cas cas cas cas

-

03:52

expectations rising to include JACK JACK JACK JACK

i stan this kid so much

-

03:53

donatello muttering to himself

so far this episode’s directing is reading like a weird nightmare

-

03:58

special guest star JIM BEAVER

-

03:59

cas still wears his big swishy coat indoors

so dramatic when he leaves the room

-

04:01

he’s......... so pretty?

/tilts head to admire eyelashes

-

04:05

quiCK MAKE A BACKUP OF THE SPELL INGREDIENTS BEFORE IT GETS STOLEN OR BURNED OR LOST

-

04:06

cas: then i’ll do it

dean: i’ll go with you

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEe????????????????

I DIDN’T REALISE WE NEEDED TO HEAR THAT REVERSAL BUT FUCK WE NEEDED TO HEAR THAT

DEAN IS SUPPORTIVE OF CAS, THE WAY CAS IS SUPPORTIVE OF DEAN

TIL DEATH DO THEM PART, VERSION 8.3

-

04:10

what i want to know is how mary could be in the bad place for 6 months and still a) look good, and b) have makeup on, c) have the same length hair she had before

maybe time stops and everything ceases to develop in this place

but if that were true then how did she heal from her wounds

clearly this isn’t another of michael’s vision things because michael probably doesn’t know all the stuff mary is telling jack right now

-

04:13

ahhhh yes dean and cas talk about their feelings properly

i am gleeful

man it’s so cute that the ~emotional~ conversations they have are just them trying to check if the other one is Doing Okay

do they actually try and help each other recover? not really. at least not on screen. but at least they wanna know

-

04:17

at first i thought they were talking about the time cas died and went to the empty and i was like WHY THE FUCK DID IT TAKE THEM SO LONG TO TALK ABOUT THAT

but then i was like...... nah they’re talking about the time cas died last episode and he was brought back at the same time as lucifer

but NOPE THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT THE EMPTY

WHY THE FUCK DID IT TAKE THEM SO LONG TO TALK ABOUT THAT

and why aren’t they talking about the time cas died literally the other day and was brought back

WHO IS BRINGING HIM BACK

AND IS HIS MOSTLY-UNEXPRESSED LOVE FOR DEAN THE REAL REASON HE’S COMING BACK

ISTG THIS BETTER BE ADDRESSED AT SOME POINT

-

04:22

hgnghhnhhhh

-

04:23

they have a huge field in the middle of nowhere and they still manage to bump into each other

-

04:25

dean: enochian’s kinda tough, maybe you got a word wrong

cas: i don’t get words wrong

okay you two, cool it already. save the bickering for the weekend neighbourhood barbecue when the kids are late and dean didn’t have time after work to fix the car

(ancient linguistics professor cas, anyone??)

-

he stick his leggy out real far

-

04:28

cas: this is serious

dean: yeyeye i know but *snort* the- they’re wearing loincloths

there’s a bisexual dean joke in here somewhere

-

04:31

DEAN WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHERE THEY GOT THEIR LOINCLOTHS

if i were you i’d stick to panties

-

04:33

either gog or magog: “I WILL KILL THE PRETTY ONE”

the other one: “THEY ARE EQUALLY PRETTY”

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FUCKING LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE

-

04:35

either gog or magog to cas: “i hate doing this, you are very beautiful”

is it weird if i sob to myself about this in a pleased, happy way

-

04:37

WHO

THE

FUCK

ALLOWED

THIS

DEAN HOLDING HIS SWoRD AND CAS’ LIL BUTT-BUMP AND HOLY SHIT HOLY SHITGHDGDGSD??@?!?!?

this is practically pornographic

#bottomcas

-

um

-

04:48

how do dean and sam avoid concussion? they get hit in the head and knocked out SO MUCH

-

04:53

is it just me or does that moose have jared/sam’s forehead and nose

-

04:55

mary made the right choice with her demon deal

nice full circle-y type thing there

-

04:57

COOL MAGIC SHADOWS BRO

-

05:02

soooo i’m guessing jack will open the door to save all the children and bobby and everyone, but then michael and his armies follow through

-

05:07

OH NO HE TOOK OFF HIS COAT

THE GLOVES ARE OFF, METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING

he gonna do a bad thing

but he has good intentions, as the title suggests

the coat is a glove of goodness

OH!!! THE COAT IS A GLOVE OF GOODNESS. WHEN CAS WAS REALLY LUCIFER HE TOOK THE COAT OFF TOO

aw man does this mean that if dean ever does get cas’ clothes off it’ll be a bad omen?

maybe if he skipped through the coat, jacket, and shirt, and just went straight to bare-chested. like if they woke up in bed together and we didn’t see the bit in between

I DIGRESS

-

05:15

oh heck those last few minutes we so enthralling

you know what i love? when a character makes a morally dubious decision but then when you’re presented with all the facts again afterwards, it makes sense and starts to seem like they made the right choice

i love that dean and sam actually let cas talk to the end of his speech without fully interrupting him, and letting him express his reasoning

i feel like that doesn’t happen enough? he gets interrupted an awful lot, and ends up huffy and looking away

and the fact he left donatello technically alive......... cool beans

ugh......... sometimes i forget that i do actually love this show, so long as it’s written and directed by the right people

i know i pretty much dedicate ALL of my time to this show, given my full-time job is to look after myself and write you guys some quality destiel fanfic, but whenever i wonder “what are my top 3 shows?” i end up deciding on my little pony: friendship is magic, dirk gently’s holistic detective agency, and then i begrudgingly go “ohhhh i suppose supernatural is in there too” rather than just saying it’s my all-time #1, even though it clearly, clearly is.

anyway this was a 10/10 episode - and yet again, meredith glynn is my favourite writer on the team

this episode was morally complex, fun, tense, dramatic, exciting, well-written. I ENJOYED IT THANK YOU MEREDITH GLYNN

and also thank you to director p.j. pesce for that shot of dean with the sword and cas kneeling in front of him. i mean, i’m totally offended that they didn’t repeat the same thing with their clothes off, but that shot was great

[corvid-knight]

A Quick Lesson In Saying Goodbye

Dave has a dream about someone long dead. 

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824328) 

I only know that I’m done dreaming when I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me too gently to be Karkat. Even  before I’m all the way awake, I can feel wetness on my face…fuck. Crying in my sleep again, not that it’s a surprise. My mind’s still half-in the dream, too—until I force myself to open my eyes, all I can see is Bro’s last grin, amused but still so fucking heartbreaking.

The sense of disconnect gets worse for a second when I do open my eyes, because the face frowning down at me is only a little different from the one in my head, and the hand on my shoulder is wearing those shitty fingerless gloves. It’s not him, though. Well…maybe a little. Biologically yes, but no in every way that matters.

"You all right?“ Dirk asks.

It’s weird. My voice sticks in my throat. I nod anyway, sitting up on the couch and swiping one sleeve across my face to get rid of the tears. Too bad my eyes haven’t gotten the message to stop dripping yet… "Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I halfway don’t want to look at him—falling asleep halfway through a party is stupid and having him wake me up after the thing’s over because I’m crying is fucking lame—but on another level I need to stare at him, satisfy myself that he’s not dead. Not Bro and not dead. I end up rubbing my eyes like a little kid, trying to stare at him without being all that obvious. “I’m okay.”

He’s not wearing his shades; normally that’d help to get the weird déjà vu to dissipate, but not this time. Right now all it means is that I can tell when he’s looking at me, and he does for a couple seconds before sitting down on the couch next to me, leaning over to pick up my shades off the floor. “Nightmares.” He doesn’t make it a question, more of an open-ended statement. For once, though, I do want to talk.

"Not really.“ I take the shades, setting them on my lap and rubbing the last of the wetness out of my eyes. "A dream, yeah, maybe a bad one. But…just sad. Not shit to be afraid of.”

"Even the sad ones suck, though…and I’m guessing it’s worse for you.“ Dirk frowns, blinks, and adds, "The Time stuff, I mean. I know you probably went through more bad shit than any of us.”

"Maybe. Sometimes.“ I dream about the doomed timelines a lot; it scares the shit out of Karkat when it happens. Those nightmares are horrible. "This wasn’t about that, though. It wasn’t a dreambubble either.”

"You still get those?“

"Not that often anymore, but yeah.” I never know how to feel about the bubbles. They hurt, sometimes, but talking to ghosts isn’t something I really want to stop doing. “I just…this wasn’t memories, wasn’t dreambubbles, wasn’t even meaningless random shit. I don’t know.” I put my shades on. Apparently I might not be done crying, because they fog up more or less immediately; I take them off and start polishing them with my shirt. “You ever get dreams that you know shouldn’t mean anything, but you think they do anyway?”

Dirk considers for a minute, then shrugs. “I dream about the game a lot,” he says, “about all the ways I could’ve fucked up, or being back on Earth and never meeting another human, being the only one left in an empty session with no door out, taking a metaphysical wrong turn somewhere and ending up as one of the versions of me that're even worse than who I am. Or just meaningless random shit, like you said.” "Different versions of you. Bro?“

"That’s one of the scary ones, yeah.”

"That’s who I was dreaming about.“ My shades are clean; I really don’t need to keep wiping at them but I do need a reason not to look at him. It’s blatantly obvious avoidance tactics, but I do need an excuse to not look at him as I talk. "Bro.” My eyes itch.

Dirk’s looking at me. I don’t have to look at him to know it; I can feel it. “You okay?” Does he know how much his voice reminds me of Bro sometimes? I hope not.

"I’m okay.“

"You want to talk?”

Fuck yes, please. “If you’re okay with listening, yeah.”

I look up at him as he nods. I can’t stop fidgeting with my shades as I start talking. The whole dream’s so fucking clear in my memory, easy to drag out—there are things that actually happened that I don’t remember half this well.

**********

The roof. I’d spent a lot of time here, once. Not that it used to look like this—the rest of the city gone dark, chunks of the skyline missing where something made impact with the ground, smashing buildings like toys. It was barely recognisable, actually.

And the sky…that, I recognised, but it was still wrong. No stars, but brighter than if there was. The sky, the actual fabric of reality, was cracked open in spiderweb fractures from horizon to horizon, spectrums of color coruscating where the void wasn’t.

I have no clue how long I just sat there with my legs hanging off the edge, watching the colors change and thinking about the fact that this was our fault. Well, maybe that wasn’t what I meant…but we, me and people I knew, were the reason that the sky was broken. We’d set into motion events that changed the structure of reality. Destroyed it a bit, maybe.

I wasn’t sure what to think about that, so as much as I could, I didn’t think. About anything. If time was passing, I couldn’t sense it, and for awhile nothing changed but the sky.

"Hey, lil’ man.“

He almost made me jump. Almost. Instead, I just turned my head. "Didn’t you die?” Had he been there the whole time, lying back with his hands behind his head and watching the sky? “You look like shit.”

Bro rolled his eyes at me—fuck, when was the last time I’d seen him without his shades?—and grinned, pushing himself up onto his elbows.“Wrong on the first count, but I ain’t gonna argue on the second.” Any other time, the amount of blood on him would have made me dizzy, but right now? Just made me achingly sad. Maybe confused as to how he was functioning at all—there was a wet stain in the center of his chest, and although I didn’t want to look all that closely, I was pretty sure his throat had been cut, from the amount of blood there. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll be right on both counts in a little while.”

"You’re dying.“ Fuck. Again.

Bro nodded, still smiling. "Yep. But hey, you’re not. Means I did my job right, huh?”

"Fuck no you didn’t.“ I said it and knew I shouldn’t be saying it, but him thinking he did any part of raising me right—other than not actually killing me or getting me killed—sent a spike of half-blinding anger into my head. "What part are you saying you did right? Beating the shit out of me? Taking off for months, letting me fend for myself? Fuckin’ Cal, are you calling that shit right? It wasn’t, none of it was, and you fuckin’ know it.”

He let me finish without stopping me, without even losing his faint smile, and even waited a couple seconds to be sure I was done. “You’re alive, though. Stay that way, kid.” And her reached across with one hand, trying to ruffle my hair.

The fact that I could dodge him that easily drove home the point that yeah, he was dying. Most of my anger evaporated—what was the point? “Fuck you, Bro.” And because I wouldn’t get another chance, and I was still pissed: “You know I hated you, right?”

"Really.“ I’d expected some kind of reaction from him—anger, maybe, or scorn. Something other than him just looking up at the sky for another moment before sitting all the way up and turning to me. "You know I cared about you, right?”

There was absolutely nothing about him that suggested he was lying. He believed that shit, and I shook my head. “Like fuck you did.”

"No, really. Everything I did was to give you a better chance, keep you alive in this damn thing. You’re a good kid, y'know? Would’ve sucked if I spent that much time on you and you went and got yourself creamed in your fuckin’ game.“

"Fuck you.” I’d said that once already, but he didn’t seem to be getting the message. Might as well repeat it. “You did what you did ‘cause it was easier to kick my ass and fuck my head up than to teach me shit like a fuckin’ normal person. You were a bastard then and you’re an asshole now, and you don’t get to turn it around and call it what was best for me.” I was getting angry again, somehow without losing any of the sadness. God, but this was pointless—it couldn’t change anything that’d happened, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be changing. “You—fuck. Fuck you.”

If he’d gotten angry, I would’ve been okay. Scared, but okay. Instead he just shrugged, staring at me as if he’d never bothered to take a good look before. Come to think of it, maybe he hadn’t. “You said you hated me,” he said quietly.

"Damn straight.“

"Nah, you said 'hated.’ Past tense. You hate me right now, lil’ man?”

"I—" I could’ve lied, easy. Except I really couldn’t. “No.” He was my Bro, and the awful thing was that he’d been a good brother sometimes. Maybe not often, maybe not for a long time, but hey. I didn’t forget the good shit. And he was dying, and as stupid as it was, my eyes were getting blurry. “F-fuck you, alright?”

He tilted his head, and I don’t think I’d ever seen that expression on his face before. “Aw, hell, kid.” This time when he reached for me he moved slower than before. I was still too fucking tired to dodge, even though I could see blood on his hand and I didn’t exactly want that touching me. “You’re cryin’, lil’ man.”

His fingers felt damp against my face, but when he took his hand away and I went to wipe at where he’d touched, my fingers came away clean. “Stupid.”

"Nah.“ Pity. Maybe that was what that look was. Or regret. Either way, something I’d never gotten out of him. "That ain’t stupid, just human. Least someone’s gonna remember me.” He sighed, slumping a little and looking down at the mess of what used to be Houston. “For what it’s worth, I think I did my best. I loved you, kid. Love you now. If I wasn’t on my way out—”

"Just shut up.“ It came out a hell of a lot harsher than I’d meant it to. He was telling the truth. That was the horrible thing. He did think he hadn’t done anything wrong, and I knew he was wrong. And in the end, it didn’t matter. "I don’t hate you. Not all the time. It’s not worth it.” I’d already said most of the pointless things I could to him, but I still had at least one more. “Fuck, Bro, why’d you get yourself killed like this?”

My voice cracked halfway through the sentence. I think that the moment I knew it was a dream was when Bro stared at me, shrugged, and reached over to wrap his arms around me. He’d never done that, he would never do that, and for a second I was fully aware that none of this was even a little real, and I could’ve broken out of it. Instead, I just hugged him. Forgot about the reality or lack thereof of all this, forgot about the blood, forgot about all the stupid pointless shit for some length of time that I didn’t bother trying to keep track of.

However long it was, it wasn’t long enough before he winced and let me go, pushing me back gently. God, I almost wished he wasn’t being gentle. That’d make shit easier. “You gonna be alright, lil’ man?”

Good fucking question. “Yeah.” I was shaking my head even as I said it, wiping at my eyes with my sleeve. “I—fuck, I miss you. I’m pissed at you, I hate you, and I fuckin’ hate you. And it just—it gets worse, 'cause I hate myself for caring about you 'n I feel like shit for hating you when you’re gone because of me, it’s so—so fucking stupid—”

"Shh.“ He shook his head, glancing out at the ruined city, folding one arm across his chest and grimacing before looking back at me. "I know. I know, kid, it sucks.” He reached over with his free hand, lacing his fingers through mine and giving them a quick squeeze before letting go. “If it was my choice, I’d make you forget me. Everything about me—good shit, bad shit, the whole shebang. You’re a good kid…wish I didn’t have to leave you.” One more look out at the skyline, his hand coming up to rub at the cut around his neck. “My time’s just about up…the guardian’s almost here. Can you give me a hand up, kid?”

"Yeah.“ I got to my feet, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him up. If I’d been able to get ahold of both of his hands it would’ve been a piece of cake, but he wouldn’t or couldn’t take his other arm away from where it was pressed against his chest. In the end, I pulled his arm across my shoulders, dragging him to his feet and letting him lean against me. "What’s the guardian, Bro?”

For a second he didn’t answer, breathing heavy and leaning on me for support. He might not have been hurting before, but now he sure as hell was now. “The one that’s coming to get me…it’ll be whatever I deserve.” He’d been looking out at the skyline, eyes half-focused; now he glanced at me again, smiling a little. “Probably an animal, that’s what I think…what d'you think it’ll be?”

I didn’t think about it. “Eagle.” Didn’t know why I picked it, either, but Bro laughed, a genuinely amused grin spreading across his face. "Never been that brave, kid.“ He pulled out of my grip, and even though I didn’t want to let go, I didn’t have a choice. "Never been that innocent, either.” This time when he reached out to ruffle my hair, I didn’t dodge it. “I’m sorry.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. There’s no fucking answer to that, you know? Not, “it’s okay,” because it isn’t, not “you should be,” even though that’s the truth. Nothing. Maybe the fact that my eyes were so blurry I could barely see him was some kind of answer in itself, I don’t know, but when he took his hand away I had to close my eyes, blink away some of the tears, and wipe at my face for a second.

When I opened my eyes again, he wasn’t looking at me anymore, and the cracks in the sky weren’t the brightest thing there.

The guardian wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before, but when I looked at it I still felt like it was familiar—an animal, not quite a wolf and not quite a lion but a little like both, faceless and covered in pure white fur that could have been soft or could have been made out of a thousand million tiny needles, standing calmly on the air just past the edge of the roof with its long tail switching back and forth. Next to it, Bro looked like a kid. An amazed, terrified, hurt kid. Reminded me of myself, from some time before now, and fuck but that hurt.

"Bro…“ My voice cracked and almost quit, but I forced one more sentence out. "I don’t want you to go.”

I got a glance back from him, and a shrug, and a grin that spoke of some painful (but still amusing) cosmic joke that I was missing out on. “Sorry, Dave…”

And he took two steps forward, staggering before he stepped off the edge and catching himself on the guardian, wrapping his arms around its neck and burying his face in its fur. I blinked, and the bloodstains on his clothes and skin faded away. Blinked again, and I was the only thing alive in that place.

**********

"After that,“ I say, not looking at anything except my hands in my lap—definitely not at Dirk— "I think I just cried until you woke me up.” I’m just thankful he let me talk through the whole thing. He hasn’t asked questions, hasn’t done anything other than listen and, when I started crying again, reached over to put a hand on my shoulder. “Which…fuck, I didn’t cry this much when he really died, it’s so fucking stupid..."

I want to be able to not be crying. That isn’t happening.

"I don’t think it’s stupid,“ Dirk says quietly. "Shit takes time to sink in, you start to forget the aspects of him that were worth hating…you can’t always say goodbye at the right time. There isn’t a wrong way to feel about his being gone, you know?”

"Wish it didn’t hurt.“ When I put my shades on they don’t fog up, thank god, and I can finally look up at Dirk. "Wish he was—fuck, I don’t know…my mind wants him to have been like you are, worth having as a brother, worth mourning and missing and whatever, but he’s not.”

Dirk blinks. Several times. “I don’t know what went wrong that he wasn’t,” he says. “I’m glad you think I’m better than he was. I’m sorry he wasn’t better.”

"Not your fault.“ I sigh, and lean against him. "He sucked, but you…you make up for it…thanks, man.”

He’s smiling. Just a little. “No problem, Dave.”

[thats-entirely-too-much-tuna]

Very belated thoughts on The House Within the House

I moved to Brooklyn the day the episode aired and it's taken me this long to gather my thoughts about it into a post. So here goes.

1) I will forever be salty that Dirk canonically rode a bike for two hours but we didn't get to see any of it.

2) Someone please help Bob Boreton. He just... he's really not looking too hot.

3) When we first see Farah after her station sleepover with Tina, she's buckling her belt. Go wild with your headcanons.

4) Tina answers the phone "Wuddup?" and "Yello!" and thinks she's the shit for saying "Sheriff's department, open up!" I love this bicon almost as much as she loves Farah.

5) Hobbs' house is tiny and cute and perfect. That is all.

6) Hobbs immediately falling asleep after Todd wakes him up is a mood if ever I've seen one.

7) Rapunzel has a food dish, thank god.

8) I truly appreciate how many high-pitched screams Dirk gets in during this episode.

9) If you listen closely, there are two occasions where the purple people-eater says "I like short shorts."

10) I know this has already been covered a million times, but I just need to mention how much this episode highlighted Dirk and Todd's mutual love. Todd's immediate panic at Dirk being missing. Dirk freezing up when Hobbs says Todd found the slide. "I'm going in. He needs my help." :') And countless other moments that prove how much these boys care for each other and need each other and would sacrifice for each other, whether or not Brotzly is endgame. Don't even get me mcfreakin' started on the couch scene.

11) One thing about the couch scene-- when Todd is talking about how he saw Amanda, the little nod Dirk gives him, along with his facial expression, is exactly the same as in 1x07 when they're crouching behind the mask kiosk at the zoo.

12) Also, when they leap up right afterwards, Dirk's hands are this close to groping Todd's chest, but that's neither here nor there. 😏

13) When Dirk says, "Keep looking for a way out," he almost looks teary-eyed, and his sad little smile really suggests to me that he thinks he's about to die. I'm not crying, you're crying.

14) Dirk's confident smirk at the very end might actually be what kills me.

15) Fave lines:

"...and also fun and festive, but in awful ways." (Perhaps the gayest line delivery yet, and I love it.)

"Listen, this is just speculation, but I may be in actual Judeo-Christian hell."

The fucking adorable way Dirk says, "Noooo, I don't think so."

"Those ladies got turned into dust, didn't they? That's wassup."

"Stay on the road. Stay on the rOAD, TINA!"

"What happened, you get the Wendigo?"

Thanks for reading my almost week-old ramblings. Is it Saturday yet?

[utopianparadoxist]

I just wanted to drop by and say that first of all, I love your theories and analyses. They're so good and I cry daily about them. Secondly I wanted to express my... I guess dissatisfaction with the lack of fan analyses about John and Dave's friendship, in particular from John's POV. They are basically the only proclaimed pair of best friends whose relationship didn't waver during the course of the whole comic, and I just wish people talked more about their influence on each other!

Ok so first of all I have to say that the idea that Dirk and Jake’s relationship seriously wavered on any level but the superficial “are we officially dating” one is, imo, inaccurate. The boys are in love, they love each other and are best friends and this is true across the board for the Alphas.

Thanks a lot for your message though, and I’ve been meaning to say something about John and Dave’s relationship for a while now so sure, I’ve got a bit to say for you. 

predictably as hell this got really long, so meet me under the cut.

But to talk about them, I’m going to have to talk about a different pair of friends who grow up together, first. One underexplored element of Homestuck that I’ve always found interesting is how Classpect seems to reflect, to a degree, how characters take influence from their societies.

I’ve written plenty about Jake and Jane in this regard, but I think John is maybe my favorite example for how nuanced it is.

A great example of what I’m talking about is Equius and Vriska’s contrasting relationships with the Hemospectrum. Namely, Equius, the Void player, values it greatly, while Vriska, a Light player, regards it as a bunch of bullshit. 

What Vriska DOES put value in is how it affects circumstance–how it makes people see Tavros, how it makes people see her, the very real burdens of responsibility and societal expectation it puts on everyone. THAT’S real. THAT matters to her. 

But the ideology itself is a bunch of baloney, and Vriska picks up on that almost instinctually. Now let’s take stock of what the Hemospectrum is in the story.  It is, simultaneously:

1) A source of STRENGTH, at least for Equius. 

2) Inherently irrelevant and unimportant to anything about any of the characters except how it makes society treat them.

3) Explicitly a lie. 

4) Most importantly for our purposes: Entirely physical. 

True to Homestucks’ Gnostic roots, unlike true ideas that the characters reason out over the course of the story, information that is unimportant, irrelevant, and built upon markers of physical identity is inherently coded with Void, as the aspect of all things false, unfortunate, unimportant and untrue. The world of the physical Yaldabaoth creates in Gnosticism is coded not just as the world of lies and physicality, but also as the world of Darkness. Hence the link.

For Homestuck, this means that that sort of information has a source. It can be traced on a timeline, just like any other objects in the story, because information like the Hemospectrum amounts to what is essentially a bad meme. 

For the Hemospectrum, that source is Equius, who first inherits that incredibly unimportant information from his society and then becomes nothing when he succumbs to its influence, allowing Gamzee to kill him. 

Now here’s the kicker: Eventually, Equius (along with Gamzee) becomes the source of the Hemospectrum himself, becoming part of Lord English and so explaining how LE got the idea to impose such a complicated system in the first place. 

In essence, once he becomes part of LE, the hemospectrum itself is Equius’ most lasting legacy on the plot, a time loop to rival Gamzee’s RIDICULOUS proliferation of clown-themed horror across the cosmos. Equius has truly become Void in this regard, a potent undercurrent for Heirs. 

Now let’s talk about Dave finally.

So like while it’s true that John and Dave’s friendship is mostly wholesome as fuck and really sturdy, I’m going to complicate that narrative a bit on both extremes. 

One of the things I’ve always found appealing about Dave is how intensely devoted he is to his friends growing up–which makes sense when you consider how unhappy he says he was in his home life. 

If Dave has a penchant for rapping ad nauseum and talking to his friends even after they leave to humorous extremes early on, well–that has at least something to do with the fact that he’s using them as an escape from his nightmarish childhood.

This devotion is more than just him being very giving and caring–he’s invested in all of the other betas emotionally, and it matters to them how they feel about him. Maybe none moreso than John, even years and lots of chilling out later.

And it plays into Davesprite’s lost sense of self in a big way. When John rejects him in favor of “Real Dave”, Davesprite is genuinely hurt and angry, and John continues to aggravate those feelings of displacement during the 3 year journey on the ship. John’s perception of him MATTERS to Dave.

And a lot of what made Dave’s childhood awful was his internalization of heroism as linked to not just Bro’s weird hypermasculine bullshit, but also explicitly to heterosexuality. 

Dave compares himself unfavorably to John as a hero, and knowing what we know about him now, it’s pretty reasonable to put Dave’s struggles with his attractions to men at the root of it. 

And given how similar Jade and John are and his obvious romantic interest in Jade, I’ve always read him as being just as interested in John–just closeted and repressed about it. 

Which means that all of those gay jokes he and John partook in had an effect on Dave far beyond what they had on John, which I think is really interesting. Also interesting, though, is how John reveals he parsed all of those things growing up:

As jokes. See, John also inherits a lot of his culture’s toxic ideology, like Equius does. But unlike Equius, John doesn’t inherit it as information to value and define himself by. 

Breath is the aspect of detachment and levity, and fittingly, John inherits these toxic masculinity-enforcing cultural memes as a series of jokes! Stuff he says, but doesn’t think about. Stuff not particularly worth “taking seriously”.

So his relationship to masculinity is a lot less fraught and intense–partly because he fits the mold more neatly than Dave, but also partly because he simply didn’t actually believe the stuff he was saying. 

Here, John is a depiction of the straight dude who makes shitty jokes and claims to be “just kidding”, except that John actually IS just kidding, and so he doesn’t really force the issue or focus on it. 

That doesn’t mean that toxic masculinity hasn’t had an effect on him–he still struggles with cultural shifts to a degree. But I like that Homestuck allows for different levels of impact of these cultural memes across individuals. This stuff doesn’t affect everyone equally, and it doesn’t affect everyone quite the same way. 

On top of that, it’s a good example of the fact that even a genuinely good person who doesn’t believe this stuff can have a negative effect on people they care about by transmitting these cultural cues. Because it’s the memes themselves that are toxic.

[autopotion]

Faith, Roxy, Delita :)

FAITHrealistic: she is big gayunrealistic but hilarious: Zoe you just said aloud to me while I'm answering this that "she runs a sex positive kink blog" and that's very true and canon.heart-crushing and awful: I mean it's already canon that faith's home life sucked so her not being able to have normal kid hobbies is a given, but I like to put a lot more emphasis on faith having little connection to late 90s pop culture stuff to contrast the Scoobies. She can't sit thru movies, she doesn't have the patience for books... It always frustrates her when ppl reference things she has no idea about but still doesn't have the time/money to get into (and now watching movies reminds her of her time in prison too)unrealistic, but my city now: that whole stupid plot where faith wants angel only makes sense if you interpret it as faith wanting Buffy but not knowing how to express it cuz serious repression. Also considering she has zero respect for men in general and has kinky sex as a way to repress she is Big LesbianROXYrealistic: Roxy consistently crushes on guys who are unavailable - jake she's marked as No Touchy, dirk is gay, and john has a whole slew of other things going on. Her closest and most sentimental attachment is to calliope whom she gives a ring. That's like big gay. And its realistic cuz its homestuck!unrealistic but hilarious: Roxy constantly uses her powers of invisibility to play pranks on people.... But also leave them mysterious nice thingsheart-crushing and awful: Uhh I don't have a good one for this.... Honestly I kind of see her moving away from her friendships with Jake, Jane, and dirk once sburb is over? Her strongest attachments are arguably with rose, calliope, and john (unfortunately) by the end of the comic. Which makes sense cuz the jake/jane/Roxy/Dirk friendships always seemed really unstable and fraught with passive aggression. I don't think Roxy tries to reach out and resume their friendship until theyre all level headed adultsunrealistic, but my city now: again. Roxy big gayDELITArealistic: I always liked to imagine that delita and valmafra had a weird kind of hate-camaraderie. Like they can't fucking stand each other but would absolutely have the other's back, if only so they can be the one to stab it. Neither Valmafra nor delita keep their status as double agents and double crossers very secret, so that's fun. If anything I think delita would try to find subtle ways to encourage valmafra to think of what she wants outside the church, which I think is evident in the fact that he keeps her alive at the endunrealistic but hilarious: Zoe you and I talked at length about agrias making true on her promise and coming back to kill delita and then she instates a puppet fake delita king who rules predict peacefully as she calls the shots heart-crushing and awful: Deep down, delita knew ovelia didn't want to be queen. He'd constantly think of ways to have her live a life truly free of manipulation - faking her death and making sure she finds safety somewhere, he's done it a million times - but he told himself he couldn't because she was the key to his ambitions becoming reality and she'd be happy eventually. In the end it was his dreams or hers, and he chose his, and to make himself feel less guilty he tried to convince her and himself that they were her dreams toounrealistic, but my city now: Delita's first love was ramza, whom he never quite got over, but after ramza's brother ordered tietra's execution he had to put his ambition before everything, including sentiment. He constantly thinks to himself "if things were different...." But theyre not and in his brain he's the only one who can make things different

[nethiewrites]

Kill Me: EriDirk (It's a really great pairing but Eridan obviously hasn't had enough happen so he needs to kill/be killed his/by his boyfriend) and Haunt Me: EquiJohn (I am the only person that ships this.)

I think this has been in my inbox for half a year and I’m SO SORRY I kept writing it, then forgetting about it, then writing some more, then forgetting. I’m very sorry.

Kill Me: EriDirk

(I…I couldn’t make it sad. I’m sorry.)

“Is this the right button?”

“No, that’s the menu. You’reopening the menu.” Dirk leaned over to tap the correct button on Eridan’scontroller. “This one. The A button.” Eridan scowled down at the controller.

“Why the fuck are the buttons A,B, then X and Y?” Dirk shrugged.

“Easier to keep track of?”

“Why not A, B, C, and D, or atleast A, B, Y, and Z?”

“Just because. Try the Abutton.”

Eridan pressed the indicatedbutton, and his character jabbed his spear forward in response. He blinked.

“Huh.”

“That’s your basic attack,” Dirkexplained, “B is the special attack. X opens the menu. Y is guard.”

“B ain’t doin anythin.” Eridancomplained.

“You have to hold it down for afew seconds to charge. Now-” Dirk grabbed his own controller. “Jump is up. Movearound with the other keys. If you fall off the edge, it’s an automatic death.”Dirk glanced up at the screen. “Uh, Eridan?

“Huh?” Eridan looked over athim, and released the B button as he did so. His little character in responsestopped charging and unleashed a giant ball of white flame. It flew on astraight past until it crashed into Dirk’s character, knocking him over theedge. Dirk rammed the buttons to try to recover but he was already falling.There was a sad *bloop* and the screen flashed to show him he had lost a life.

“Uh,” Eridan shot him a nervouslook. “Sorry?” Dirk stared back at him with a deadpan expression as hischaracter respawned. “Dirk?”

Dirk clicked his controller in acomplex combination. His little character uppercut Eridan’s into the air, leaptup after him, then slammed him down and offscreen. The screen flashed to showEridan’s lost life. Eridan scowled.

“That was childish.”

“We’re even.” Dirk leaned backon the couch. “C’mon, this time for real.”

000

Haunt me: EquiJohn.

Equius unlocked the door to hisapartment and stepped inside to find his home had been turned to chaos. Papersflew around the air in a cyclone and his curtains whipped around the wall,threatening to be pulled free. Equius glared at the confusion in irritation,holding his hair back to keep it from flying around in the wind. A ghostly moanrose around him rising and falling in volume.

WhhhoooooOOOOOOOOooooo

 “John,” Equius said.

WOOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOO

 “John.”

WOOOOOOOOOOO

 “Johnathan Egbert,” Equiusbanged his fist against the wall, just enough to avoid denting it, “ceasemaking a mess of my apartment this instant.”

The wind died down with a verynoticeable *huff* of annoyance. The ghostly voice sounded through the walls,but at a softer, more comprehensible level.

Aw, did someone have a bad day at his boring office job?

 “It is not boring.” Equiuspicked his coat-hanger up set his coat on it. “I admire the order andstructure, and the contribution I make to society.” He began to gather up the papersscattered about. A gust of wind scooped them out of reach and up to stack onthe coffee table. Equius sighed and straightened them up, making sure they wereall in order.

Why do you have to work so much? I was booooooored!

 The curtains shook again at thelast words. Equius rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen.

“You could have listened to somemusic.”

All you have is classical! Ugh! You don’t even have a TV!

 “Television rots the brain.”

So does having a perpetual stick up your ass.

 “Language, John.”

Stick up your butthole.

 “John.”

A whisper of breathy laughterswirled around the room. Equius sighed and grabbed a pan off the wall.

“Nepeta is coming over fordinner,” He spoke out loud to the air, “I will ask you to behave yourself.”

Hmmmm

 Another breeze swirled throughthe room as John turned the request over in his head. Equius sighed again.

“And if you do, we can watch amovie tonight

Deal!

 John chirped almost immediately.Equius couldn’t help a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s a date, then.”

Laughter echoed around thekitchen, then John breezed back him to plant an airy kiss on his lips beforevanishing. Equius blinked rapidly, then shook his head and turned toward hisstove to prepare dinner.

[dreams-for-the-apoplectic]

something i will probably never finish but like enough that im posting it anyway

Bro leans in the doorway of your room, 

(and you see him from your periphery: boxers loose on bony hips and patterned with hearts, no shirt, can of orange soda in hand with shades neatly tucked on the bridge of a strikingly crooked nose) 

and tells you, 

(over the sound of the fans, three, overclocked on some jury-rigged upgrades he threw together last year when the air conditioner went schizo cherry apeshit, just like now, again, for the second time this week spewing out mad fumes all grey-black and choked from its old, dusty vents) 

that you and he should just ollie outie of this midsummer popsicle stand and move somewhere the sun don’t actively to attempt murder you in the crispiest degree, KFC style. 

And you jokingly tell him sure, fuck it, anything is better than clawing my way up Fire Death Concrete Mountain aka Texas Mordor, clutching this bitchin’ ring of power and muttering all manner of rapturous obscenities and salacious innuendos for my precious. Sign me up Major Douchenozzle, I’ll shimmy my fine ass up this fabled air-conditioned igloo any day. 

A week later and you've packed your shit, grabbed your ticket, and are hopping the next flight to Vermont.

--

(four hours, fifty-one minutes, seven seconds, and Bro practically jumps off the plane hyperventilating when you touch down. you didn’t know how much he hated flying. you’ve never been on a plane before; if you didn’t know better, you’d think he hasn’t either. and if you quirk an eyebrow just over the rim of your aviators, and the side of your mouth makes a confused downturn for a second or two at just how fucking strange that that is, well, that was just a trick of the light, and the light is a dirty liar.)

He and you stick out like sore thumbs here 

(with Bro in a crumpled white polo and asshole jeans and dumb fucking anime shades, one hand in his pockets with an impassive, calculating kind of expression that you’re more used to than the panic, checking through tabs on Complete Bullshit for god knows what reason; you in the same shirt you wore yesterday, hair a meticulously crafted unkempt, posture slouching something awful as you bop right the fuck along to some sicknasty new bassline Jade dropped on you the night before, thinking of ways to remix it into this new beat you’ve been working on) 

among a crowd of home-grown New England faces haughty white and upturned and staring down at you and Bro like some trash that just rolled in from Doesn't Fucking Belong Here, USA.

(the luggage belt is moving so slow, so, so slow, it’s like watching a retarded crippled snail attempt a marathon against the goddamn salt shaker, and you wish you could just shake off the lingering, disdainful stares these people give the two of you, and you can, and you do)

(except you don't.)

--

You’re rolling through Montpelier an hour later, crammed up in the shotgun seat of an old, dirty, piece of shit pickup Bro apparently had nesting in the airport storage unit,

(it’s a rust hulk straight out of the early eighties, all torn up vinyl and engine rattling, with tacky, outdated bumper stickers on the back and a pine air freshener that does nothing to mask the smell of two-decade old cigarettes, and somehow you aren’t surprised this is his car because it is exactly how you imagined it.)

(you want to ask why he had a car in bumfuck, vermont and not in houston. you want to ask him if he even knows how to drive, but you hold your tongue nice and pretty and settle into the split vinyl seat cover)

moving past the city limits and into the countryside, over the state border and into New York. You give Bro the ‘what the fuck are we doing out here, man, is this the setup for a horror movie or some shit, because I’m not down to being the unwilling accomplice to some new echelon of fucked up smuppet snuff’ look, your fingers tapping in 4-4 on the dash, not really nervous so much as habitual. 

(he ruffles your hair with a smirking, mean kind of half-smile, all teeth and teasing and unnatural. you swat at him uselessly.)

And then the road is quiet, and the sky is misting grey. It’s all evergreen and shrubbery and dark soil here, and small towns by clear water: fishing ponds, creeks and rivers, and more wildlife roaming these secondhand backroads than you’ve ever seen in Texas. It starts to rain a bit, ghosting against the glass, and over the soft creak of the windshield wipers Bro asks you if you wanna put on some music, little man, heard you were working on a new track and can I get a sneak peak at that delirious biznasty? And fuck yeah you have, even if it isn’t quite done yet, and you plop your phone on the dashboard, and the drive is comfortable, 

(and you cannot shake this feeling that something is wrong.)

---

It isn’t an apartment, it’s a house in the goddamn woods; no, a fucking mansion in the goddamn woods, the design of it ripped straight from the personal architectural smutjournel of Frank Lloyd Wright, complete with white-foam waterfall and neo-American art deco pretension. Your mouth hangs open, and you know, you just fucking know a fly is about to buzz in that shit and set up a cozy little cottage, but you don’t care. This is straight wack, man.

(it looks vaguely familiar too, like something nostalgic stuck in your mental gears, cracked and rusted from disuse; something you saw once, a long time ago, in a place you can’t quite remember.)

Bro gestures you along along the concrete path, and you tell him no, wait, put the fucking brakes on Anime Goldilocks, what the fuck are we doing here, because this sure as shit can’t be where we’re living now, and I don’t wanna piss off the three bears. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and tells you in that deep southern mumble of his that, shit, kid, did you expect we’d just take a plane and end up in the same shitty apartment? And of course you didn’t

(even though you kind of did)

because that would be ridiculous, but-- you don’t know, you’ve been sharing a seven-hundred square foot living space with him for the past fifteen years. How are you supposed to react to a fucking mansion that just suddenly up and settled before you on delicate foundational popliteals and a stark-white concrete strapless all alluring and sultry? Just stand there stone-faced morose and stoic and fuck, that is exactly what you should be doing, isn’t it, because that was what he taught you, to

(stitch up the cuts slowly, careful with the needle and don’t fucking rush it, lil’ bro, even if they’re shallow you can’t just take it and jab that shit in, and for the love of god you gotta work on your dodge game, how the fuck do you expect not to get your ass served up sunnyside in a real fight?)

(̶̥̘͗̉̾̊͝ ̷̦̙̦͌͊̒́̍͛̀̀̈́́̚͘̕̚n̷̨̜̲͓̹̪͎̒͋́̊̎̐̍͌̆͘͝ͅͅͅ ̸̤̥̏́̌̑͒̈́̿́̃

̶̝͎̝͔͔̣̬͈̗̔̀͌̈́͆̒̇̋̋́̈́͐̈̚͝��̧̠ ̷̡̛͕͚̰͉̦̼̤͍̘̝̹̮̩̈́̑̇̃̔͝͠ơ̷̡̧͔̘͇̖̫͉̳̳͖͇̰̻͗͛̿̋̾̏͘͝ ̸̨̧͈̱̫̩̲̦̭͖̿̃́̔͛̓̓͌̌͗̍̔̾͜ͅ

̷̢̮̮̠̠̬̖̙͈͋̍͛͆̔̈́̓̌̂̀͌̽͝͠ ̸̨̗̯̓͐̿̇͂͊̓́́̄̃̚͘͜͜.̷̲̙͓̮̮̬͓̈́̋͂͒̓̃͘͠͠)̸̧̖̪̦̥̪͙̫͍͙̩̻̺̩̒̌̈́͒͋͝ͅ

̵̬̯̪͛̓̈́̎̒́̂

It isn’t our house anyway, he says, 

(and your mind slams on the brakes so hard you think you might flip this shit frontways, slam the roof on that motherfucker into the burning asphalt and skid off the edge of this brutal synapse fuckup.)

(you can’t remember what you were thinking. it’s blurry, and forgotten, and everything is normal again)

moving forward in long, atypical strides that you scramble to follow. The rain is still coming down, you realize, in a softer drizzle that dampens your shirt. Friend of mine lives here.

Holy shit, he has friends?

Yes, I have friends, you little shit, and you flinch when you realize you must have said that out loud. His arms flex, shoulder blades audibly popping with the contraction of muscle, and you flinch, and nothing happens. Her name is Roxy.

And shit, you guess that’s all there really is to say on the matter, because he doesn’t provide any further explanation and you sure as hell don’t ask. You duck under the porch roof and he raps a fat bar of knuckles on the door.

---

Roxy isn’t anything like you expect. 

You don’t know what you were expecting, actually, considering you’ve only just heard about her, but she is perky and kind-eyed and so fucking sincere that the saccharine emotional font of exuberant delight that straight up sparkles from her is making you real uncomfortable.

She hugged you.

She hugged you and you liked it.  

(and she hugged Bro too, made his spine go all weird fucking c-shaped wrongness as she crushes him against her chest, calls him Dirk like she fucking owns him.)

You’re ushered in as she turns on heel and sways away with a tipsy strut, sauced and sauntering and high stilettos tapping on the dark hardwood. She tells you to drop your things by the door, she can set each of you up with a room in a bit, and Dirk, honey, we have got so much catching up to do, I haven’ seen you and the lil’ guy in ages, and god yer both so fuckin’ tall I forgot about that bit,

(christ on the cross, she can speak at a mile a minute, accent a thickly laced New York staccato that matches Texas about as close to the intersection of nil and fuckall as you can get without running head-on into traffic.)

and Dirky, Dirkle, Dirk-a-licious, oh my god come here right now, I gotta show you this badass shit I‘ve been working on, it’s fuckin’ lit as hell, it has got switches and gizmos and all of the cool techy shit I know you swoon over, and you need to check out this code I wrote because you know I’m not about to trust anyone else to parse my sick lines, so come ooooooooooooon and there they go, Bro dragged stiff as cardboard across the floor by the hem of his fucking shirt. He gives you a side-eye look that says crosses somewhere between  ‘don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back’ and ‘help me.’

You shrug and flip him off and leave him to his fate. His death glare could kill a lesser man.

(holy shit.)

And then, quite suddenly, you are alone.

It’s not quiet, you notice - just a more subtle murmur than the scream of a city, made emptier without Roxy to fill up the room. Slow, churning movement below signals the languid rush of water as it tumbles beneath the floorboards and off the cliffside. Some woodland creature skitters in wet dirt beyond the window pane, which filters in ghost-grey light and shakes a bit when a particularly heavy set of raindrops hit. 

You shuffle about awkwardly, and glance around for a second,

(the interior is lavishly decorated, you notice. posh white starkness for fineass digs. sir asshole the stone swamp wizard sits plainly in the foyer, nested in arcane robes of the dimwitted and tacky. a cat is nuzzled up at the foot of some kind of bronzed vacuum. the whole place smells like perfume and vodka. it’s kind of intoxicating.)

before deciding the panicked, lingering gaze is kind of stupid, and waiting for Bro to come back like a pining factory girl in the nineteen-forties writing sappy missives to the brave boys in Okinawa was lame as shit, so you flop down on the couch, all loose, gangly puberty limbs and feigned indifference and the muted light of your phone glaring back at you. You pull open a pesterchum window, shoot a few messages to Harley,

(some off-the-cuff rap cooked slow on these sick fires, like just put some whip cream and a goddamn cherry on that shit and call it a sunday. you also make sure to attach a file for the new sbahj comic you’ve been working on. you’ve lovingly dubbed the new arc ‘the spaztastic furry hatesex maelstrom,’ and you hope know she’ll love it.)

and Egbert,

(and you admit, muddled up in tangents and similes that take forever just to get to the goddamn point, that you actually took his recommendation and stuck through the bitterly tasteless cinema assassination of the week. you even wrote a shitty review for it on one of your ironically maintained critic blogs, and send him a link)

(you won’t admit you laughed at groundhog day. he will never let you live it down. never.)

and Lalonde,

(who is on, surprisingly, because you know she has school right now, and fuck if the flighty broad doesn’t take every swat of the educational ass whooping with a snide, condescending seriousness that has a way of getting just under your skin. she wants to go to Harvard, or Cornell, or Oxford, because she is smarter than you, and John, and maybe not Jade but damn is she close.)

(she doesn’t respond either, though, so you cast the thought away and send her some custom made memes deep fried in a hundred layers of crystalline  jpeg illegibility and wait, fuck, holy shit)

and then someone is standing over you, peering with an appraising interest, like they’re looking at a slab of beef splayed out dumb on the chopping block. And you don’t flinch, you really don’t, even though you’re about five seconds away from flipping this shit backwards and kicking dust up as you run for the hills. 

You can tell this girl is nasty. She is stygian lips and white-blonde hair and violet eyes that politely inform you that this is indeed the fucking slaughterhouse, that you guessed it right, and you’re about to get served up with a side of collard greens and barbecue sauce.

So of course the first words out of your mouth are 'sup, Rose.

Wait, wh

(you see her past the glow of a verdant sun, because even a double universe killing superbomb can't outshine her. cascading orange silk stitch wrapped in a star-shimmering supernova of violet eyes and pallid skin. it's like a goddamn angel come from the heaven; a smirk beneath the hood and fire in her belly. she is the fucking sun now, and nothing can even fucking compare.)

at.

(what the fuck.)

What the fuck.

(what the actual fuck dude.)

Do I know you? Her voice is just dripping contempt.

And you don't fucking know her. She isn't here. Rose is a billion lightyears off in the gay space commune, deep encoded digital vaporware that went out of style twelve fucking years ago. She is a string of chat logs and embarrassing Fruedian slips that didn't happen, no, Rose, you don't have undercover mother-lust. 

And she is here.

You've never even seen her picture, but you know. You know far beneath the skin, something deeper than blood or bone or anything else seething something above that spiritual core. You know on a fucked kind of metaphysical. It's self-evident. It cannot help but make itself true.

Uh.

Shit.

Shit dude fucking say something. She’s just standing there, and the downward curvature of those lips is about to break out of the spatial plane and into some hyper paranoid fourth dimension. You guess she has a right to be weary. Your gangly ass is seated firmly in her territory.

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: I'd Do This, But How? -- Yandere

It's Thursday -- time for another installment of "AUs I like in theory but are hard to put into practice." This week, we have perhaps a rather weird one -- a "yandere" AU! For those unfamiliar with the term, it refers to a person (usually female) who looks like a nice, or at least nonthreatening, person -- but secretly is unhealthily obsessed with someone and is willing to do ANYTHING to have them to themselves. "Anything" usually being "murder."

Why I'd Want To Do It: Mostly because I follow the development of the Yandere Simulator game. I haven't actually downloaded any of the bug-testing builds, but I watch the videos Yandere-Dev releases and keep up on the blog. It's a dark game, for sure, but I find the development process pretty interesting. And I find myself rather amused by putting Victor and Alice in the appropriate "senpai" and "yandere-chan" roles. At the very least, they'd probably look good in the uniforms.

What's the Problem?: The fact that I don't like Alice as a random serial killer -- certainly not as someone who kills innocent girls just because they're talking to a boy she likes. That's not her. I know it's fun to depict her as covered in blood and waving that Vorpal Blade around, but in-universe, she's only killed one real-life person (Bumby, who more than deserved it). Even her Wonderland violence is pretty much entirely in self-defense. She's not a psycho killer, and thus not really suited to a "yandere" AU.

Doubting Thomas: "You have two serial killer AUs!"

Okay, true -- but in "Catch Us If You Can," Alice and Victor are explicitly murdering Bumby's associates and others in the child trade. They don't go after anyone else unless they're attacked first. And in "As Long As You Love Me" -- well, Alice is Bart's counterpart, and the universe seems to only have Bart kill real assholes. (According to Bart's own account in the show, she's never killed the wrong person, and when she goes after Dirk, the universe tells her she's wrong via Farah beatdown.) Victoria and Emily, being decent human beings, are not the kind of people Alice would ever kill, even in those AUs. (Hell, I even had a thought about "As Long As You Love Me" Alice teaming up with Victoria and Emily in a potential sequel involving Victor getting kidnapped by the local Blackwing equivalent.) Not to mention my poly AUs way outnumber the serial killer ones...

Why I Keep Coming Back To It: Well, again, there's the "they'd look good in the uniforms" factor -- I wouldn't mind something with Alice cosplaying Yandere-Chan/Ayano. And I can see Alice feeling kind of possessive of any romantic, or even close platonic, relationships she develops. After all, her backstory is all about losing her entire family -- everyone she loved -- in one awful night. I can't see her being eager to go through that again. Granted, it's much more likely to be expressed in Alice getting nervous any time anyone she cares about gets near fire, but still.

How I Could Do It: Actually, Yandere Simulator itself provides a solution to my dilemma -- the pacifist run! You see, the game is all about choices, and in addition to the violent elimination methods, there are also relatively kind ones -- befriend your rivals and ask them nicely to stay away from your Senpai, and matching them up with other boys that like them. Alice need not hurt anyone to get Victor to herself. In addition, she could be a very low-key yandere who represses those impulses because she knows they're wrong. I even have an idea of how it would work -- an angel/devil mechanic where her "stab anyone who might lure Victor away from me" thoughts are personified in the Queen of Hearts, and her more rational side in the Cheshire Cat. Alice is a lot more inclined to listen to Cheshire than the Queen, after all. (I imagine a lot of snarky conversations between the three of them.)

I also already have some ideas for rivals:

Victoria Everglot (obvious; she'd be the "childhood friend pushed into dating him by their parents" and could be matched with the local version of Christopher or Emily)

Emily Cartwell (also obvious; she'd be the "excitable new girl who latches onto Victor because he showed her kindness" and could be matched with the local version of Richard or Victoria)

Jack Skellington (because he's the one I most see in CB slash fiction; he could be a perky goth version of the Occult Club Leader Oka who thinks Victor is cute, and could be matched with Sally)

Nell Van Dort (the local NON-romantic rival -- Yandere Simulator has Senpai's sister as a rival in the sense of "she's really close to her brother and worries their bond will lessen if he gets a girlfriend." Nell of course would be more along the lines of "no son of mine is going to date a girl I don't approve of," with Alice having to find a way to present herself as a suitable candidate or subtly encouraging Victor to stand up to her more)

Angus Bumby (Yandere Simulator also has two non-student rivals, a substitute school nurse and a substitute teacher. The nurse is downplayed as being kind of a ditzy, innocent klutz who just happens to be in a profession Senpai has a thing for. The TEACHER, on the other hand, deliberately seeks out and seduces teenage boys. As you might imagine, that kind of creeper deserves to have Bumby take over the role. I actually have a scene in my head where Alice catches him pinning Victor against a wall, trying to get a hand in his pants (probably the whole thing sparking memories of her poor sister Lizzie) -- and the Queen and Cheshire look at each other before saying in unison, "Kill him." Cue stabbination -- and Victor, after it's all over, falling into her arms crying.)

So yeah, there might be a way to make this work if I ever had the urge. Really, though, I prefer the idea of Alice as the Violently Protective Girlfriend. All of the badass with fewer unfortunate implications.