#the folly of many artists..

[dadbastiandisaster]

I started this, finished the lineart, decided I hated it, finished it anyway, bon appétite.

This is a manga panel redraw of this ^ Sebastian, because @every-sebastian-michaelis posted some of the Grell v Sebastian fight scene panels and I got inspired

[button-cat]

this is how the cleave went guys

(uh idk, spoiler warning?)

(yes this was very rushed,,,)

anyways GO SEE THE CLEAVE

its on catjammii's twitter :3

[honeydudedraws]

funny!! sillies I've collected for your viewing pleasure.

og posts under the cut

[pool drinking] [total nightmare] [office study]

[follineo]

so after like ughhhh after almost four months, I finally decided to finish this in two hours

Now I have Daisuke in a frame :]

[bobabep]

hit 40 followers so here they are :3

split and bive arent finished obv,,,

[spiritsonic]

Hi Evan! Big fan here, hope I'm not disturbing you at an inconvenient time. I love your work as an artist and writer, but it's not just Sonic that you work on. It would be cool to know more about your work Ensouled. What is it about? Who is the ghost guy and the human girl?

Sure, I’ve been wanting to write some new character bios. Check it all out under the break!

CHARLEY PARKHEARSE

Once, long ago, Charley was the best teamster in Santa Alma county. His stagecoach flew over treacherous mountain roads, One crack of his whip could snuff a candle’s flame from six yards, and any bandit who dared to stop his stage would meet the business end of a rifle. Anyone who cared to comment about his sour temper or murky past knew to keep their voices low… and God help any fool who questioned Charley’s refusal to remove his heavy greatcoat, no matter the weather. 

But Charley’s fame was bound to earn him enemies… When the bandit Sugarfoot learned that Charley was in fact born a █████, the secret spread like wildfire through the mountains. Charley was ruined. He thought his life was over, until he was visited by a being dealing in black magic; a devil known in his human guise as Aurelius Flood. This devil promised to erase Charley’s secret from the minds of Santa Alma’s people, restoring Charley’s reputation, in return for his soul. Charley accepted, though he would not learn the depth of his folly until the night he died… and was raised as a ghost by that same devil, now bound to his service. Still, the devil was true to his word. Charley’s secret was safe, even beyond the grave.

At one point in the many decades since his death, Charley thought he could escape Aurelius’ control. But today… he’s given up that hope. He haunts the roads he was once the master of, frightening drivers to meet his quota of Soul and waiting ‘till his memories fade away, taking the pain of his mistakes with them. That is until, in a flash of ill-advised mercy, Charley spares the life of a young woman he scared off the road…

(Charley is LOOSELY based on Charley Darkey Parkhurst, a real historical figure. Look him up! He's a really cool example of a queer, probably trans person ((by today's standards)) in history. The real Charley's dying wish was to be remembered as a man; a wish that has not been respected by history. I want to explore the pros and cons of living closeted or stealth in an ever-changing world, while also honoring his memory and wishes as best I can in a modern context.)

SEQUOIA LOGANBERRY

Sequoia would like you to believe that she is a monster. It’s easier that way. Ever since her father left for a mistress on the east coast in her senior year of high school, Sequoia has been working a dead-end job at the local amusement park and doing her damndest to drink and drive herself into an early grave. And she almost does it… Until a friggin' SKELETON GUY fishes her out of the lake she drove into?! And now she’s getting these insane migraines and seeing spooky shit everywhere???? 

After a close encounter with death (and Charley), Sequoia develops an unpredictable 6th sense that threatens to finish what she started in her car the other night… Until she’s found by the misanthropic wizard Monty and his much nicer siren husband Luka, who help her get her new powers under control… in trade for her helping them with a few odd jobs. Nothing crazy, just, oh, infiltrating the local magical crime lord’s fey court. Sequoia is just the wild card they need to break a fifty-year standoff between the supernatural powers vying for control over Santa Alma. Sequoia will need to learn fast, about both magic and herself, or else end up a pawn in other people’s plans. Will she be able to make the friends she desperately needs and find direction in her life before she’s swept away?

OTHER CHARACTERS INCLUDE...

MONTY MOUROS, aforementioned misanthropic wizard. Older than he looks. Came to Santa Alma in the 1930’s to earn his fortune, and ended up embroiled in one of Charley’s bids for freedom. It didn’t go well, and he still holds a bitter grudge. He’s guarded the local amusement park, the Boardwalk, from Aurelius Flood for years, but other than that has hidden himself from both the magic and mundane worlds for decades.

LUKA, a siren who lost his singing voice in a trap set by Flood. If not for Monty, it would have taken his life. When they were young the two fell in love, and Luka defied his family’s traditions to be with Monty. They’re still together, and Luka is the only person who can get past Monty’s harsh exterior. Luka now runs a speakeasy for spirits hidden beneath the Boardwalk, where he mixes magical cocktails and turns the rumor mill. He is a kind soul who defines himself through service to others…perhaps to a fault. 

AURELIUS FLOOD, The mastermind behind most of Santa Alma’s woes. A cruelly ambitious leprechaun who thrives on greed, he’s been following the money since the time of the Romans. In the 1800’s he came to the new world, where he found fabulous opportunity during the California gold rush. Assuming a human disguise he carved out a business empire in the mundane world, and a criminal one in the magic world. He built Santa Alma himself, engineering the city’s growth. Fattening a pig for the slaughter. Now, the only thing standing between him and his ultimate payday is Monty and the pivotal bit of territory he controls at the Boardwalk. It’s stymied him for years, but he’s got a new plan…

SUGARFOOT, Flood’s left-hand man. As the illegitimate son of a powerful Californio rancher and an Ohlone woman trapped in the California mission system, fate did not deal Sugar a kind hand. After his father’s family lost their rancho, Sugar turned to a life of crime. He got his sarcastic nickname from a festering leg wound he earned in a shootout with Santa Alma’s top teamster, Charley Parkhearse. As his infection grew, so did his hatred… These mountains should belong to him, not some johnny-come-lately from New Hampshire. So he turned to another stranger for help; Aurelius Flood. In trade for his soul, he gained information; a secret that, if it were to get out, would ruin Charley forever. Sugar leapt at the deal, and got exactly the revenge he’d wanted… until Charley came for him, blinded by rage and shame, and shot him dead in the street. In death, Sugar and Charley found themselves in the same situation… bound to serve Flood forever. As coworkers. Hell would have been a mercy. 

(Sugarfoot is also based on a historical figure of the same name, but almost nothing is known about him other than he was a bandit with a very stinky foot. IRL Charley shot him when he tried to raid his stagecoach.) 

ZINNIA LOGANBERRY, Sequoia’s annoyingly precocious little sister. While Sequoia turned to delinquency after their parents’ divorce to avoid her feelings, Zinnia threw herself into her studies for the same reason. She has become the model student and daughter, earning their workaholic mom’s favor… but man, this kid is Burnt. Out. When she finds out about Sequoia’s new adventures with the supernatural, she throws herself into this new world as a release from her demanding daily life only to once again take things too far. And now, the consequences come with fangs, and hair, and claws…

DEBORAH LOGANBERRY, Sequoia and Zinnia’s mother. She knows she could be doing better by her daughters, but ever since her no-good husband left them, she’s been the family’s sole provider. Her job in the city’s planning and zoning department is the only thing keeping them off of the streets, and the price of housing in Santa Alma is only going up. It’s a matter of survival; surely, once they’re more financially stable, she’ll be able to patch things up with Sequoia. And maybe something will come of the new friendship she’s struck up with Mr. Flood. He IS quite the successful developer, after all… perhaps they could be more than friends?

[datvtranscripts]

The Crossroad Ambients

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain

The Crossroads Masterpost

Rook: Wait. The lyrium dagger's… vibrating. Like a song in a wine glass.

Rook passes the tree again.

Rook: Are those voices?

Rook interacts with the tree in the Crossroads.

Elgar'nan: Striking the Crossroads without forethought would be folly. The rebellion controlled it for far too long. Its defenses will be artfully hidden.

Ghilan'nain: You will not press? Our forces are cunning and sharpened.

Elgar'nan: Fen'harel's spite is endless and his trickery not easily overcome. He will have traps in wait. A Crossroads in ruin is no good to us.

Rook: That was Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. Were we… eavesdropping on the past?

Isle of the Gods complete: Rook: We must have been. Ghilan'nain's gone.

Bellara: Here in the Crossroads, the dagger must be able to… overhear them. Just a little.

Davrin: It makes sense for Solas—his dagger, his enemies, his way of spying on them.

Emmrich: The dagger must catch and amplify their influence here. Ingenious, really.

Harding: The dagger… of course Solas found a way to spy on the other gods.

Lucanis: It's Solas's dagger. He must have had a way to spy on his rival gods.

Neve: The dagger must amplify these… echoes. Letting Solas spy on his rivals.

Taash: Handy dagger. Stabs and eavesdrops. No wonder everyone wants it.

Rook: Let's hope it doesn't work both ways.

—

Rook passes by the tree again.

Rook: Shhh. We can eavesdrop again.

Rook: The voices again.

Rook: The dagger's resonating again.

Rook: Listen.

—

Ghilan'nain: Untold years asleep, only to see our sanctums defiled. Even Arlathan is trampled by cast-offs and mortals. We must secure the eluvians.

Elgar'nan: We shall. The Antaam are uneasy in the Crossroads, but they know their duty.

Ghilan'nain: If they fail, give the best-preserved to me for improvement.

Have not fought Antaam in the Crossroads Rook: The Antaam. So they're somewhere in the Crossroads, too.

Have found Antaam in the Crossroads. Rook: Dead Antaam? We're already on it.

—

Elgar'nan: Delays. So much more could be accomplished from the Vhen'Theneras. Solas raised that beacon in mockery of my own tower of learning. The disrespect…

Ghilan'nain: Do not dwell upon it, Elgar'nan. The Lighthouse is but one wonder we shall reclaim.

Elgar'nan: It will be remade. And all traces of Fen'harel erased from its walls.

Isle of the Gods complete: Rook: Ghilan'nain. We really are listening to the past.

—

Isle of the Gods complete: Elgar'nan: It is not enough to slay the artist. They must see your works destroyed as well. Petty, small-minded… blind to the wonder and beauty of your creations. Dearest sister, I then offer this to your memory: If your genius does not survive, neither will those who disdained you.

Isle of the Gods not complete: Elgar'nan: But surely the knowledge you gained…

Ghilan'nain: My champions offered themselves willingly. More works of precision laid low before finding their full potential!

Elgar'nan: You will have new subjects, in recompense. Whatever you wish.

Bellara romanced Ghilan'nain: Rook's foolish tinkerer toys with our old works. Let her be flesh-bonded into a Sentinel's armor. Bellara: Rook. She means…

Davrin romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's dearest Warden. He is half blighted already. I would see if I could make him crave griffon flesh. Davrin: Let her try.

Emmrich romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's necromancer. An excellent subject to test how long one could go back and forth between life and death. Emmrich: Don't listen to her, dearest. It won't come to that.

Harding romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's Titan pretender? There are many things I could do with one so tied to the stone. Harding: She's not saying what I think she's saying, is she? She probably is.

Lucanis romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's assassin. His flesh could be given true wings. And a face that better suits one who carries a demon. Lucanis: She is welcome to try.

Neve romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's delver of the truth. A mage who would provide me with both blood and ice from her veins. Neve: Rook. She means…

Taash romanced: Ghilan'nain: Rook's fire-breather. I would see if there is enough dragon blood in their veins to begin a new Archdemon. Taash: She can try.

No romance: Ghilan'nain: Rook's companions seek to fight as one. Combining their traits into a single form would be edifying.

Elgar'nan: Inspired. Consider it done.

In romance: Rook: If they touch you, death will be the least of their problems.

Not in romance: Rook: Ignore them. We're taking these bastards down before they ever get the chance.

—

Ghilan'nain: What of your dreams?

Elgar'nan: A discordant refrain. And shadows. Nothing more.

Ghilan'nain: In our prison, there was more. I dreamed the songs of the living abyss.

Ghilan'nain: And now, masked eyes across the sea. A storm that drinks the sky…

Elgar'nan: The future is intangible. Only the past and the present matter.

[vague-humanoid]

Chappell Roan, White Feminism and the Backlash of Queer Visibility

Originally titled Everybody Hates Chappell Roan (And Music Laborers) this video examines the backlash Chappell Roan experienced following her visit on the call her daddy podcast, with folks saying she no longer cares about the queer audience she cultivated, folks saying she's a fake lesbian, or that she's actively harmful to the queer community because she didn't endorse Kamala Harris. Due to her queer visibility, expectations around her advocacy is different. We then explore the resentment of election get back or FAFO content and how its rooted in the false hope of Democrat Compassion, and how the Democrats and Republicans have been putting black and queer folks in danger for decades. We examine the queer segregation and the artist Doechii with her "quick" rise, as well as the artist Mitski with her statements on art as commodities. From there I interview some musician friends: April Kae, Anjimile, Georgia Maq, Palehound, Matt Tong of Algiers and OG member of Bloc Party, L'Rain, and LaToya Kent and RA Washington of Mourning A BLKStar to get a better view of what being a working musician is like. After that we close on the many White feminist follies of Katy Perry, with her recent Blue Origin Flight and very odd music video Woman's World.

[doubledeadstudio]

Hello! Welcome to the official Double Dead Studio Tumblr, the solodev behind Reanimated Heart, Another Rose in His Garden, and Pygmalion's Folly.

Reanimated Heart is a character-driven horror romance visual novel about finding love in a mysterious small town. There are three monstrous love interests with their own unique personalities and storylines.

Another Rose in His Garden is an 18+ erotic Omegaverse BL visual novel. Abel Valencia is an Omega who's hidden his secondary sex his entire life. Life's alright, until he meets the wealthy tycoon, Mars Rosales, and the two get embroiled in a sexual affair that changes his life forever.

Pygmalion's Folly is a survival murdersim where you play as Roxham Police Department's star detective, hellbent on finding your sister's killer... until he finds you. 

Content Warning: All my games are 18+! They contains dark subject matter such as violence and sexual content. Player discretion is advised.

This blog is ran by Jack, the creator.

Itch | Link Tree | Patreon | Twitter

Guidelines

My policy for fanwork is that anything goes in fiction, but respect my authority and copyright outside it. This means normal fan activity like taking screencaps, posting playthroughs, and making fanart/fanfiction is completely allowed, but selling this game or its assets isn't allowed (selling fanwork of it is fine, though). You are also not allowed to feed any of my assets to AI bots, period, even if it's free.

Do not use my stuff for illegal or hateful content.

Also, I expect everyone to respect the Content Warnings on the page. I'm old and do not tolerate fandom wank.

For more details about how I view Fanwork, refer to this post.

F.A.Q.

Who are the main Love Interests in Reanimated Heart?

Read their character profiles here!!

Who's the team?

Jack (creator, writer, artist), mostly. I closely work with Exodus (main programmer) and Claira (music composer). My husband edits the drafts.

For Reanimated Heart, my friend Bonny makes art assets. I've also gotten help from outsiders like Sleepy (prologue music + vfx) and my friend Gumjamin (main menu heart animation).

For Reanimated Heart's VOs, Alex Ross voices Crux, Devin McLaughlin voices Vincenzo, Christian Cruz voices Black, Maganda Marie voices Grete, and Zoe D. Lee voices Missy.

Basically, it's mostly just me & outsourcing stuff to my friends and professionals.

How can I support Double Dead Studio productions?

You can pay for the game, or join our monthly Patreon! If you don't have any money, just giving it a nice rating and recommending it to a friend is already good enough. :)

Where do the funds go to?

Almost 100% gets poured back into the game. More voice acting, more music, more trailers, more art, etc. I also like to give my programmer a monthly tip for helping me.

This game is really my insane passion project, and I want to make it better with community support.

I live in the Philippines and the purchasing power of php is not high, especially since many of the people I outsource to prefer USD. (One time I spent P10k of my own money in one month just to get things.) I'll probably still do that, even if no money comes in, until I'm in danger of getting kicked out the street… but maybe even then? (jk)

What platforms will Reanimated Heart be released in?

Itch and then Steam when it's fully finished. Still looking into other options, as I hear both are getting bad.

Will Reanimated Heart be free?

Chapter 1 will be free. The rest will be updated on Patreon exclusively until full release.

Are you doing a mobile version?

Yeah. Just Android for now, but it's in the works.

Where can I listen to Reanimated Heart's OST?

It is currently up on YouTube, Spotify, and Bandcamp!

Why didn't you answer my ask?

A number of things! Two big ones that keep coming up are Spoilers (as in, you asked something that will be put in an update) or it's already been asked. If you're really dying to know, check the character tags or the meta commentary. You might find what you're looking for there. :)

Will there be a sequel to Pygmalion's Folly?

It's not my first concern right now, but I am planning on it.

Tag List for Navigation

Just click the tags to get to where you wanna go!

[mayakern]

love the name Luck & Folly for the new line! (or is it lowercase? i'm not sure if it is or it that's just your writing style 🤔) i'm curious as to if there's any reasoning / story behind the name?

thank you!!

there is a reason for the name!

so when we were first trying to ideate names for a new line, devin remembered they had made a student branding project for a fake property named "holly ox." we liked the sound of that name, but as a plus-size focused brand having an immediate association with cows could prove troublesome, so we then changed it to holly fox... which turned out to be a real name for multiple people, including a small artist.

so we scrapped that, but we still liked something about the sound of it, so we tried to find something that had a similar vibe.

i landed on lucky folly as the name, because so much of the success we have experienced has been due to random bouts of luck and failing in the perfect way to set us up to try something else that did work.

but when we googled around that overlapped with some other properties, so it became luck & folly.

i'm really glad honestly, i love the name luck & folly SO much so even tho it was frustrating at times to hit so many roadblocks, things turned out for the best. which is very in line with the name we chose haha.

(and the lower case is just my typing style haha)

[ginxyy]

Blonde

Blonde Seungkwan….need i say more

I AM FERAL FOR BLONDE SEUNGKWAN

I never really understood how friendships could morph into something more until that fateful night with Seungkwan. Just a few weeks back, we were lounging around at a cozy little bar, laughing over shared stories and teasing each other about our embarrassing childhood antics. The air was thick with the sweet scent of cocktails and nostalgia, and I must admit, I had indulged in one too many drinks that evening. The warmth and laughter enveloped me like a beloved old blanket, coaxing my heart into revealing its deepest secret.

“Seungkwan,” I whispered a bit too loudly, causing him to glance at me with those bright, mischievous eyes that sparkled like the stars above. It was a casual night among friends, two souls wound in the comfort of understanding. But just then, as I leaned into him slightly, the room seemed to spin just a tad too fast, and my mouth took over before my mind could catch up. “I have to tell you something.”

His eyes widened with curiosity, the light of them burning brighter than the low lights of the bar. “What is it?” he said, leaning in closer. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and yet, my heart only seemed to race even faster. “You know you can tell me anything!”

The words tumbled out before I could catch them: “I have the biggest crush on you when your hair is blonde.” The silence that hung afterward felt thick and heavy, almost suffocating. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, mortified by my slip. I immediately looked away, pretending to take a sip of my drink, secretly praying he wouldn’t have heard me correctly or that he would laugh it off and push it into the realm of drunken folly.

Yet, to my surprise, he chuckled softly, that wide grin spreading across his face, his golden cheeks rising into adorable puffs. “Oh, is that so?” I glanced back at him, heart thumping defiantly in my chest, and saw something playful dancing in his eyes. “Noted.” We spent the rest of the night in a drunken haze of laughter and deep conversations, but I couldn’t shake the giddiness his reaction had stirred in me.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself basking in the sweet warmth of friendship seasoned with a dash of bubbling tension. But I quickly learned how to suppress that little monster in my heart, telling myself it was just a silly confession made in a moment of hilarity. After all, we were friends, right? Life goes on, and so did our friendship.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when I received the unexpected call from Seungkwan. His voice poured through the phone like sweet honey, carrying an excited tone I couldn’t quite place. “Hey! I know this is last minute, but would you want to come with me to Paris Fashion Week?”

A wave of shock washed over me. “Wait, really? Paris Fashion Week? Me?” My heart fluttered as I processed his words. Paris had always seemed so distant, a mere dream woven into my everyday life. The very idea of being there with Seungkwan stunned me into silence. “Yes! Of course!”

It felt surreal, almost like stepping into a dream. Before I knew it, I was on a plane, heading to the city that whispered romance in every corner. When I arrived, the vibrant streets of Paris filled with artists, laughter, and the tantalizing aroma of fresh baguettes welcomed me, but I was mostly preoccupied with thoughts of Seungkwan. He was scheduled for fittings, and I was left to wander the enchanting streets, lost in my own thoughts and anticipation.

After a whirlwind of fittings, the day of the show arrived. As I stood in front of my hotel mirror, nervously adjusting my outfit, I couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement weaving knots in my stomach. My thoughts darted between worry and hope: What if he looked incredible? What if he was the one who brought that blonde hair back, just to tease me?

The knock on the door startled me. Heart racing in rhythm with my thoughts, I opened it, holding my breath. And then time seemed to stop. There he was, Seungkwan, standing in the doorway with that radiant smile I had come to cherish but it was his hair that took my breath away.

His blonde locks framed his sharp jawline perfectly, glinting like spun gold under the soft lighting of the hotel room. My heart raced as I fought for words, my eyes widening like a child seeing a magical creature for the first time. He had somehow heard my confession had remembered and here he was, looking like a vision, a radiant star flickering just for me.

“Wow,” slipped out, a breathless utterance as I did my best not to swoon. He chuckled, taking a little step toward me, but there was something in his eyes a glimmer of understanding dawning over us both.

“You like it?” he asked playfully, a teasing lilt in his voice as he ran a hand through his newly-dyed hair. In that moment, I couldn’t contain the wildness that erupted within me. I was feral for him; that crush had blossomed into something undeniable, throbbing beneath the surface, and there was no sense in hiding it any longer.

“It’s illegal how good you look right now,” I blurted out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I watched as a soft blush crept across his face, contrasting beautifully against his golden hair. “You’re perfect.”

He laughed a beautiful, melodic sound that rang in my ears like music. “I’m just trying to impress the girl I brought with me.” The air between us charged with electricity, and suddenly, all the years of friendship seemed to crystallize into this singular moment. We both hesitated, caught on the edge of a decision. As if pulled by an invisible thread, we both stepped closer until the space between us vanished, our breaths mingling with the thrill of the impending show.

“I think you’ve definitely succeeded,” I murmured

My pulse quickened as we stood there, inches apart, wrapped in the golden aura of his gaze and the glint of his freshly blonde hair. Every nervous, unspoken feeling was caught in that charged silence between us. I felt my breath hitch, his eyes holding mine with a mixture of playfulness and intensity that felt new and thrilling. My lips parted to speak, but instead, I leaned forward, drawn by some unstoppable force.

Our lips met softly at first, the warmth of his mouth melding with mine, sending an intoxicating wave of euphoria through me. The kiss grew deeper, his hands trailing up to cup my face with a gentle firmness that pulled me closer, sending sparks along every nerve. My own hands drifted to his shoulders, savoring the broadness, feeling the taut muscles under my fingertips. I could feel him smiling against my lips, and when he pulled back, our faces were so close I could still feel his breath.

“Didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” he whispered, his voice rich with amusement but touched by something deeper—an edge of vulnerability.

I let my fingers linger on his jaw, feeling his pulse race beneath my touch. “Didn’t think you’d show up at my door looking like that,” I shot back playfully, our foreheads pressing together as we shared a soft laugh, lost in each other.

The fashion show felt surreal—a dazzling display of lights, sleek designs, and glamorous faces. But nothing, not even the show’s grandeur, could distract me from Seungkwan seated next to me, his presence electrifying. Occasionally, he’d lean in close, his scent a blend of fresh cologne and something undeniably him, and whisper comments that had me stifling laughter, his warm breath grazing my ear in ways that sent shivers down my spine.

But as much as I tried to concentrate on the event, my mind wandered back to that kiss. Each time he laughed, each time his fingers brushed my shoulder, I felt the memory of his lips all over again. I could barely keep my hands steady as I clapped for the designers, feeling the rush of heat that surged within me every time our eyes met.

Seungkwan seemed just as affected, his fingers occasionally drumming against his leg, sneaking glances my way as though he was waiting for the next moment he could draw me close again. His knee brushed against mine, the simple touch almost unbearable in its intensity. Every accidental brush, every shared smile, only deepened the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

When the show ended, we slipped out into the night, guided to a waiting car. The minute we were inside, the charged atmosphere became undeniable. The city lights flickered by outside, but my focus was on Seungkwan, on the way he glanced over at me, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he closed the gap between us.

Without a word, his hand reached out, fingertips grazing along my arm, leaving a trail of tingling warmth. His touch was all it took to send my heart racing once more, and I didn’t wait for permission. I leaned forward, capturing his mouth with mine, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist and pulling me onto his lap.

In the dim light of the car, his lips were urgent, his kiss demanding and possessive. I could feel his hands pressing into my back, each touch anchoring me closer, deepening the feeling that I was falling, that he was catching me. His fingers traced down my spine, and I couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh as he moved to kiss along my jaw, his lips brushing soft but searing kisses down my neck.

“Didn’t know you were so bold,” he murmured, the husky timbre of his voice vibrating against my skin, sending a thrill that made my pulse race. His eyes glinted with a teasing look, his fingers dancing along my sides, and I could only bite my lip, my cheeks hot as I let my hands explore, tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the strength in his shoulders.

“Blame it on Paris,” I whispered back, barely able to keep my voice steady.

Seungkwan’s mouth claimed mine again, this time slower, more deliberate, as though savoring every second. The taste of him was dizzying, and I could feel his heartbeat against mine, matching the rapid rhythm that thudded in my chest. Every fiber of my being wanted to stay in this moment, to let it consume me, to give into the magnetic pull that had been simmering between us.

The city lights outside painted flickering patterns across his face, illuminating his golden hair, making him look like something out of a dream. My fingers tangled in those blonde locks, feeling the softness, reveling in the way he tilted his head back slightly, eyes closing as though my touch was all he wanted in that moment.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, and in his eyes, I could see every unsaid word, every feeling we had both kept hidden beneath layers of friendship.

“Then don’t stop,” I murmured back, pulling him close once more, as our kisses grew deeper, our laughter softer, lost in the thrill of knowing that we were finally, finally letting ourselves feel everything we had once denied. The world outside faded into insignificance as we gave into the spark that had always been between us, now set ablaze in the heart of Paris.

[honeydudedraws]

Halloween? uh, more like some more regretevator drawing with @zoo650

(me in orange, zoo in purple)

[laiqualaurelote]

Hellooo! Paranormal investigator AU for Phrack, maybe? Thank you!!

thank you for the prompt! (from this AU ask game) This is a fun one. Though one could easily set it in the modern day, I would still set it in the 1920s, because that was such a fascinating time in terms of the spiritual and supernatural - you've got the Spiritualism revival that the show briefly explores in Death Comes Knocking, the rise of silent horror films like The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and Nosferatu, and the moral panic association between jazz and vampires, which is how you get the Jazz Age Vamp (taken literally in the Rivers of London second novel Moon Over Soho, which has vampires that feed on jazz).

Phryne is one such Jazz Age Vamp (not literally; she is perfectly human). She solves supernatural cases because she remains haunted by her sister's murder at the hands of necromancer Murdoch Foyle, which she has never been able to get him convicted for (it is very difficult to prove necromancy in a court of law). She is descended from a long line of witches on her mother's side. This means that Aunt Prudence is in fact a witch of considerable strength, but chooses to use none of it because Magic is Not Proper. As they have no female descendants, they adopt Jane into their line so she will inherit the power.

Jack is the detective inspector who keeps getting assigned all the cases with a whiff of the supernatural because nobody else wants to handle them. He has inadvertently become the 1920s Melbourne equivalent of the Folly (if you know Rivers of London). This is despite the fact that he is deeply skeptical by nature - had one too many run-ins with scam artists pretending to be mediums (the hypnotist whom Jane is forced to steal for is one such conman) - and is convinced that Miss Fisher is a fraud. After reluctantly solving multiple cases with her, he concedes ghosts are real but remains immensely annoyed about it.

Dot is a real medium who struggles to reconcile her gift with her Catholic faith. She falls in love with Hugh after being forced to exorcise him, because he is exactly the kind of idiot who would end up getting possessed on his first case.

Mac still works at the morgue, which is full of ghosts. She can see them but mostly ignores them ("are you trying to sabotage your own autopsy, madam? no? then go cry in the corner till I'm done. Thank you.")

Bert came back from the war. Cec did not. This has not stopped them from driving a cab together. Their cab can take you to any part of Melbourne, including the city of the dead. They are still Communists. They take the "spectre haunting" aspect of it very seriously.

Mr Butler has been working at Wardlow for the past century and plans to continue doing so indefinitely. Nobody knows if he is alive, dead, or undead; moreover they feel it is impolite to ask.

Every case in this AU has a supernatural element except Death Comes Knocking, wherein it is revealed that every single person involved is scamming everyone else.

Arthur Conan Doyle makes a cameo in Away With the Fairies. Harry Houdini makes a cameo in Death Defying Feats and spends most of it trashing Doyle's views on spiritualism.

Crypt of Tears is greatly improved by the crypt being full of actual undead.

[fingonvaliant]

I read the silmarillion again (fully have lost track now on numbers) and I think it's really striking which scenes are dramatic and tear-jerking and why. In particular I love how each successive kinslaying gets smaller and more pathetic, but that's exactly why each successive one feels crueller and sadder.

The first kinslaying shows the Noldor at the zenith of their power and the nadir of their wisdom. Utter hubris, folly, defiance of the Valar. It is spectacular, it's very easy to see in your mind as it happens. There's a reason it's been painted so many times by the big-name Tolkien artists.

The second kinslaying by contrast is against a strong "foe," for a clear objective, but all the Feanorians really achieve from it is a bloody reversal of the victory of Beren and Luthien. There was never anything to gain from it.

And the third kinslaying. They knew how disastrous their oath was, three of their brothers were already dead, they have no personal grievance against Elwing, barely even heard of her. Some of the refugees at the havens had to have been their own people too.

The scale of the opponents and the motives also decrease poetically.

In the first kinslaying they fight the Teleri of Alqualonde for their ships, as prized to the Teleri as the Simarils were to Feanor. At the second, they go against Doriath, a renowned kingdom with strong defenders, for no less a prize than the Silmaril of Beren and Luthien. At the third, they massacre women and children over a rumor.

Personally I also imagine the size of the armies involved rapidly decreasing. Tens of thousands at Alqualonde, hundreds at Doriath, and in my mind, whenever I read it, I imagine only the four surviving Sons of Feanor and no other soldiers at the third kinslaying killing defenseless people.

Do you think Maedhros and Maglor were surprised when the Silmarils burned them?

[lisimcpisi]

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

…honestly I have no good segue way into this announcement so I’m just gonna jump straight into it

Hi! I’m Lisi!! I’m a young artist that likes to draw silly little guys!!

I know I don’t often share my OCs on here but I’ve recently been working on a pretty big project that I want to share with you guys!!

For the past,,, 9 months I think? I’ve been developing a set of characters that I’ve been calling the ANN Crew!

ANN stands for the Aurora News Network, a fictional news company. These characters were meant to just be fan OCs for the audio drama Journeys Ahead (the creator @/Tsproart isn’t that active on tumblr but you should def subscribe to him on YouTube!!)

However, through many collaborations with the creator, my OCs and ANN as a whole has become my domain to expand and shape into anyway I wish! While I don’t have a concrete synopsis for my characters, my project mostly involved delving into the personal lives of the ANN employees. Who they are, what their passions and insecurities are, and the various relationships and dynamics that are present. Very much a slice of life kinda story. Any sort of tension or drama comes from between employees or when my characters need to endure cosmic horrors beyond their comprehension in Journeys Ahead ( just listen to JA and you’ll understand-)

I had always hoped to reach a point with this project that I can write a full original story with them, and I’m happy to say that I have indeed reached that point

I’M MAKING AN AUDIO DRAMA SHORT STORY!!

A Valentines Folly is a short story about my OCs! If you couldn’t already tell this will be a Valentines-themed tale centered around 2 of my characters, Andy Helm (the one with horns) and Cece Grae (the girl with the floating head). It’s a cute, slice of life story with lots of cheeky banter and focuses on queer platonic love!! 

I have finished writing the full script and narrations, and am currently in the process of editing (adding music, transitions, etc.). I’m hoping to get it out by Valentine’s Day, if not a few days later.

So if that’s something that interests you, stay tuned for AVF! If you can, please subscribe to my YouTube (same handle as here) so you can be the first to know when it comes out!

I’ll also be opening up my ask box for questions regarding my OCs. Anything you may be curious of lmk!! I wanna get the word out!!

[dukeofriven]

To Ravel-Out The Weaved-Up Follies: The Decline and Fall of Homestuck^2

[I first started this essay a few months ago during a strange, brief resurgence of Homestuck^2 discussion that vanished almost as quickly as it began. Because my brain is A Wretchedly Uncooperative Thing this essay has stayed in draft form, being picked at, until—naturally—Homestuck^2 surprised us all by relaunching with a completely new team at its head. I’ve decided to push myself to publish this anyway, because I still think the core of my thesis is correct. So, keeping in mind that this leaves the starting gate slightly later than I would have wished (not knowing I was in a race), let us commence.]

___________________________________________________

“A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. -Frank Herbert, Dune, 1965 “Once upon a time there was a Boojum——" the Professor began, but stopped suddenly. "I forget the rest of the Fable," he said. "And there was a lesson to be learned from it. I'm afraid I forget that, too." -Lewis Carroll, Sylvie and Bruno Concluded, 1893

Several posts about Homestuck^2 have started to crop-up… adjacent to my dash. I'm not attaching myself to those posts because it seems rude, but their points are largely an attempt at revisionism of the fate of Homestuck^2. Understand I'm not using the term ‘revisionist’ pejoratively: it is common, even sensible for artists to look back at failed projects and try to pick up the pieces and derive some value from them. I’ve done it myself, many times. Nobody likes to say "I entirely wasted my time, my passion, and my creative energy for [X] days, months, years.” It is important to look at a failure and see what you did right, treasure the parts that were worth treasuring.

But equally I don't want to go too far in rehabilitating what was, undeniably, a failure. There's a lot of critical theory being brought-up, a lot of talk of Homestuck^2 from a standpoint of post-modernism, or post-post-modernism, trying to engage with what Homestuck^2 was as a platform for ideas. A habitus, if you’ll forgive the jargon, what Bourdieu famously called (in a Hussie-like masterwork of language) “the structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures.”

I get it. I get what the Homestuck^2 team was trying to do intellectually: where their minds were at, the hostility they faced, the vitriol they were harmed by. I get it.

But that's not why Homestuck^2 failed. Homestuck^2 did not fail because it dreamed too big, or was too intellectual. It did not fail because its themes were not worth exploring, or because its lens was too meta: for most of its original run, after all, Homestuck is nothing but an interrogation of Homestuck. Its brains were not why Homestuck^2 failed. The problem was its execution. The problem was its heart.

There's a lot to be said about not giving fans what they think they want. The internet drowns in coffee shop AUs where everything interesting about a franchise's characters has been vulgarly ripped from the text, leaving a drama-less, tension-less pablum where everything is stagnant and unchanging, everyone gets along, all the romances are cute and smooth, and you can burrow in the comforting ooze of artistic and narrative death. Give fans exactly what they want and frequently nothing creatively meaningful will result. Fandoms famously resisted both The Empire Strikes Back and The Wrath of Khan when they first released because they pushed characters to change, and yet they grew to be beloved as fans realized that what they thought they wanted and what it turned out they could enjoy were not as alike s they assumed. There's nothing wrong with showing fans that there can be more to a story that just doing the same thing over again, retrenching into the pablum wastelands of growth-free comfort fics.

But when asking whether Homestuck^2 did or did not gave fans what they wanted or needed, we must first raise an important establishing question: which fans? That is to say: who was its intended audience? Who was Homestuck^2 written for?

At its peak, Homestuck Classic had millions of readers and a million page-hits a day. There was a whole contingent of fandom who came only for the trolls (in some baffling cases actually skipping the first four acts of the story to jump right to into Act 5). There was another contingent who loved the video game parody, there were Problem Sleuth junkies, and in the early acts there were the suggestion box obsessives: all of these were readers who were fans of parts of the story but largely stopped reading Homestuck as the story got more concerned with the complex nature of stories and narrative itself. Homestuck^2 is clearly not for them—as indeed Homestuck Classic itself had not 'been' for them for much of its run. Homestuck^2 is also not for new readers: if you haven't read the Homestuck Epilogues through at least twice, if you don't remember all its major plot points and the plot points of Homestuck Classic, it makes no attempt to onboard you and is, probably in-arguably, outright impenetrable to those not already in the know. It’s not impossible—there were SBaHJ fans who onboarded with the first context-free SBaHJ and went ‘yeah, I can vibe with this’ and never knew or cared that it was a reference work for something else— but it doesn’t seem likely that many people ‘jumped on’ the Homestuck train with Homestuck^2. I think Homestuck^2’s writers would agree that Homestuck^2 expected you to know the lay of the land. So: nobody new was likely going to read Homestuck^2, and (given its density of Homestuck call-backs) neither was it for more casual Homestuck fans. Homestuck^2 was not even for the truly otiose Andrew Hussie diehards: Hussie was only tangentially involved in the project, they weren't writing it, and there's seemingly no references at all to Barty's Brew-Ha-Ha or Inappropriate Time for Ham, so that's a full seventeen readers it also likely turned off (sorry, comrades. One day…)

So who, then, was Homestuck^2 for? Its intended readers seemed to be those who read the Epilogues and loved them. This is a complicated issue: for those who weren’t there, the Epilogues were… controversial. I defended them at the time: I liked them, even admired them, partially because I believed with the fervor of a zealot that there was still something else to come. I called this final entry ‘Pumpkin.’ Homestuck, a story that always rejected binaries, surely was not meant to conclude with over-the-top Candy and/or grim, dour Meat. I knew in my heart that Pumpkin was coming, where John rejected both of these dark and crazy futures and found a third way in which his friends grew up and matured without losing themselves and their friendship: not a story without conflict, but surely the prime timeline as existed in general fandom imagination could not accept Dirk’s grotesque, manipulative suicide, breastfeeding Gamzee, brutal civil wars, and Dirk and Jane becoming so cruel and hateful. Surely that was set-up to pay-off a better future later: after all, like its author, Homestuck abhorred a binary.

But Pumpkin never came, and now I look at the Epilogues and I find lot in it (for lack of a better term) ‘edge lord showboating.’ It feels like reading 90s comics all over again, including the bits with cannibalism. A lot of bleak and miserable things happen in the narrative, and I find myself asking ‘do they happen because they should, or just because they could?’ (And how many times can one franchise treat Jade Harley like absolutely garbage?)

But if the Epilogues had a true and golden virtue, it was their framing as intrinsically being fan-fiction: Meat or Candy, this was not the 'true' continuation of the franchise (as much as that means anything), this was speculative futures, not much different from Doc Scratch’s story of the Vriska/Noir battle. A one-shot, in other terms, an elseworlds: not a definitive statement about What Homestuck Was From Now On, but an experiment in tone and structure. How far can you push Homestuck before it doesn’t feel like Homestuck any more? (Turns out not nearly as far as you might think.) A lot of people didn’t notice, however, or perhaps simply didn’t care: the Epilogues ripped the Homestuck fandom apart. Homestuck Classic often did things in bad-taste as part of its odd charm: Gamzee’s codpiece, Jack playing dress-up after slaughtering a nice couple on a date, Caliborn’s cartoonish misogyny. Some bits land, some don’t, but for fans—I think for many, if not most—the Epilogues crossed a line that they were not comfortable with.

In some quarters the Epilogues are reviled, and I honestly can not fault people who found them off-putting. They are: intentionally so, provocatively so, and it should be okay for people to be put off by them without insisting that the haters ‘just didn’t get it.’ Often they did: they ‘got it,’ they just didn’t like it. It ‘squiked them out’ as we used to say, and the writers had to have known it would: discomfort is the nature and partial purpose of provocative art.

(Sidebar: Epilogue writers, you wrote a plot-line in which 16-year old Homestuck Act 6 protagonist Jane Crocker grows-up to become a racist dictator who has a cuckolding sexual relationship with Gamzee Makarra that involves kin-play involving public breastfeeding.

Sorry Andres Serranos acolytes, that’s not going to go down super-well with the majority of people, not because they are uptight suburban prudes but because they liked Jane Crocker and felt this outcome was not grounded well in the character they knew: only the obtuse would act shocked and try and argue it was due to a lack of sophistication. You took a gamble, you took a risk, you faced the outcome. You fucked around with ICP Hitler breastfeeding cuckoldry and you found out.)

So: who was Homestuck^2 for? It was for people who had read Homestuck multiple times, had read the Epilogues multiple times, and wanted a sequel that involved those Epilogues.

That is… a small audience. A very small audience. I counted myself among them, but had no illusions that its reach was ever going to be very large. Homestuck^2 was never going to be the Second Coming of Homestuck as a sui generis cultural phenomenon: seemingly by design, it was deliberately written for an insular audience who liked a controversial and difficult interpretation of a famous story and wanted more of that interpretation. So the Homestuck^2 team wrote for them: they came to the table with big dreams and big ideas. They came to the table with lots of critical theory under their belts: they knew their Barthes and Baudrillard, they could reference queer theory and the legacy of post-structuralism, they were the sort of people who knew how to situate Homestuck in post-post-modernism and what that meant for the nature of its exploration of stories.

They had an audience, and they had a plan. They were going to give the fans what they wanted.

So after much hype and fanfare, after interviews and the Tumblr equivalent of a press-junket—which saw the new team saying how excited they were to tackle Homestuck’s legacy, how many great ideas they had, how much having a diverse team was going to see Homestuck ‘done right’—Homestuck^2 first published on the 25th of October, 2019, releasing 32 pages.

We start in the glittering majesty of space. The camera swoops in among the stars, barrelling towards a rushing spacecraft (every frame of Homestuck^2 looks great, the visual arts team's work is its unquestioned highlight). We aim at a viewport in the spacecraft’s hull and slowly the Muti-Narratively-Dimensional Ubervillian Dirk Strider comes into view. Fresh from his triumph in the Epilogues, continuing his wicked schemes, he looks right at the camera, and—speaking directly to the audience—he voices the first line of dialogue in Homestuck^2:

"Surprise, bitch."

…

There is…

…

… there is no coming from back that.

There is no saving it.

It is the 25th of October, 2019, and Homestuck^2 launches with its own death-rattle. It stumbles out of the gate like a beautiful racing pony catching its delicate hoof on the sharp, treacherous edge of an unwieldy analogy and tumbling into the indifferent soil of hard reality, shattering all four legs and immediately marking itself for teary euthanasia at the hand of the devastated young girl with the violet eyes who raised it from a foal and dreamed of making Nationals.

We have established that Homestuck^2’s potential audience was small. The people who were most likely to like it were already an insular, distinctive group who had bought-in to what much or all the Epilogues had to offer. Homestuck^2’s opening-day crowd did not need to be sold on the word of the Lord—they already believe it: they came to see their first glimpse of the promised land.

And in its very first conversation with that audience, in its very first words, Homestuck^2 makes the most spectacular miscalculation of tone since 2013's DmC: Devil May Cry—or for those of us of who remember the 90s: ‘Dirk Strider’s about to make you his bitch.’

There's nothing wrong with starting a story with a villain, there's nothing wrong with a villain being a contemptible heel to its audience, but Homestuck^2 spends its opening 32 entries—which, at over 7600 words are longer than the prologue to the Homestuck Epilogues—jumping between Dirk’s smarmy conversations with fellow characters and a monologue to the audience, pages infused with an arrogance and condescension that is downright enervating. The text is frequently dense, so dense it feels like chewing your way through a plank of wood. It is actively tiring to read: I bailed on my first attempt at reading Homestuck^2 when it originally dropped because I just did not have the energy to squint at my screen and read that much orange-on-off-white text.

It is, to be clear, contemptuous. Dirk did much the same in the Epilogues, but the locus has changed. In the Epilogues Dirk taunts the reader with the changes he is making to the story: he knows they object to his manipulations, and he preens as good villains do. But in Homestuck^2, Dirk speaks not of his changes but of the very existence of Homestuck^2 itself. He treats his audience as inherently hostile to the entire existence of the work they have just shown-up to read (or even support via a Patreon), a hostility that culminates when he ‘opens’ a suggestion box and receives the suggestion ‘Dirk: Stop Making Homestuck,’—which he at-once rejects and goes on to monologue some more.

Dirk is talking to an audience who isn’t there. He is speaking to everyone who didn’t like the Epilogues and objects to Homestuck’s 'sequel' directly following them: but that audience isn’t reading Homestuck^2. They bailed in advance, and any who did try and keep an open mind likely jumped ship the moment the comic started by calling them a bitch and implying they’re idiots. The only people likely to read past the fifth page are those who already bought-in to Homestuck^2’s plan: and they are greeted with some 32 pages and 7600 words of the comic’s villain re-litigating and justifying that plan over and over and over again to people who nominally already agreed with him.

It is draining. It is annoying. It is boring to read.

There’s so much you could critique about Homestuck^2’s choices: from Rose cheating on Kanaya to impregnate Jade to Jane Crocker going full Trump and keeping kids in cages. Equally there’s arguments to be made that Homestuck^2’s very premature cancellation inhibits any ability to judge the story fairly: like any serialized narrative stopped mid-way, we have no way of knowing what narrative payoffs were supposed to be. Decisions that seemed baffling on page 8 might prove brilliant and bold by page 8000. But we never got to page 8000, because Homestuck^2 made one crucial error:

It started by telling its audience they were fools for not being smart enough to appreciate how brilliant Homestuck^2 was going to be, and then spent a majority of some 7600 words repeating itself like the worst self-pitying incel you’ve ever had the misfortune to be trapped with at a party. If only the ungrateful could realize how smart, handsome, and well-educated I—Homestuck^2—am, the love I deserve will come flowing in. I’ll show them all.

Homestuck^2 never recovered from that first, fatal error. The rest of its choices, good and bad, are almost irrelevant in the face of that opening broadside, that hostility, that tedium. Homestuck Classic earned its walls of text and at least knew how to space them: Hometuck^2 took its audience forbearance as a given and opens with a lecture on its principles and quality like an unusually snide abstract on a sociology paper. Homestuck^2 essentially began by telling its audience to leave unless they were willing to give it carte blanche, to roll over for its brilliance from the first, to accept in advance that its intelligence and virtue were first rate. So the audience did leave and it never came back and eventually the whole thing collapsed via artist infighting that was so rancorous and possibly subsumed by NDAs that to this day no one has ever halfway adequately explained what happened at the end.

But that ending was preordained from the beginning, for the balance was hopelessly incorrect.

So to anyone trying to write a revisionist history of Homestuck^2 in which its downfall was the fault of readers who simply didn’t ‘give it a chance,’ who didn’t appreciate its themes, who couldn’t grasp (or didn’t care to grasp) its intellectual bonafides (not to mention its extraordinary self-assurance that it was going to be queer Homestuck ‘done right,’ which is a whole essay about a priori reasoning in and of itself)... in other words, a history in which Homestuck^2' downfall happened because people just didn’t ‘get it,’ I’d like to sum up my counter-argument succinctly:

People didn’t like Homestuck^2 because you wrote it bad.

[Afterwards:

There is something bitingly funny about the ‘return’ of Homestuck^2 with the announcement that, from what I can gather, seemingly every person involved with the original project was fired (or, as they’d probably insist, refused to come back). Dirk’s preening, overwhelming arrogance, that ‘Dirk: Stop Making Homestuck’ prompt, will forever haunt the original team’s unwieldy vision. “I’d bet you just looove for us not to make Homestuck anymore” the team said, with all the confidence of an entrepreneur dismissing safety regulations before climbing into his homemade submarine, and boy were lessons learned. My problem with the return, however, is that I don’t know who genuinely wants to see the story of Homestuck^2 finished: the remaining cadre of die-hard patrons who still have enough goodwill to want the promise of the story’s finale fulfilled is microscopic. I’d argue there’s more people waiting for the conclusion of Wizardy Herbert, and I’m the only person I know who has ever read it. What I mean is: as a choice to revive a struggling franchise it doesn’t make much sense, and further—if it is not clear—I don’t think this is a story worth finishing. What is to be salvaged? Jane-the-Dictator, Rose’s cheating, Obnoxious BabyVriska, Dirk Strider the monster? The problem with Homestuck^2 is that Pesterquest happened, and those who played it went ‘this—this is the kind of story we were hoping for, not your edge lord showboating.’ And we only got one Pesterquest and Homestuck^2 limped on for another year reviled, ignored, and eventually forgotten. When it died, most people didn’t have any idea, because the drama never crossed their screens: nobody was talking about it any more. As my best friend noted, give us more Paradox Space. Give us more stories with joy and some sense of fun, something not written by people who often felt like they had an ‘End of Evangelion’ style hatred of Homestuck, or at the very least took the old joke that Hussie was ‘trolling’ his audience at face value. (Writing a good story with twists, set-backs, and tragic moments is not trolling, it is just writing a good story.) Homestuck^2 never felt like it understood that: it was rude and iconoclastic for no more compelling reason than it thought that was meaningful. But then I think the legacy of Epilogues has been extremely toxic—part of the positivity towards Pesterquest was that it let the Epilogues go, featuring a triumphant moment where YoungDirk confronts his Epilogues self and goes ‘I don’t have to be a huge wanker, actually, I can stay a character people can stand and even love again.’

Do that, new team. Pesterquest is named-dropped on the new site more than once, and my dream is that its cast arrives and overthrows the corrosive toxicity of the Epilogues, banishes it to the far realm of underbaked elsewhere ‘what-ifs’ along with every DC cannibalism story and that time Peter Parker’s radioactive semen gave MJ cancer.

The Epilogues and Homestuck^2 are, at this point, not worth salvaging—but I’d happily see them formally buried.]