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#dirk striders pathetic eyes
mustard-minneola · 1 year
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assuming that soda goes flat after over three hundred years i like to think that hes never had fresh soda and is baffled by every aspect of it because hes so used to it being devoid of everything that made it soda in the first place
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badshipshitblog · 6 months
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strilondecest fic reclist :p
expressions of trust by cmdonovann (dirkdave, t, 4k) essential to my dirk characterization tbh. classic earth c roommates fic
stasis state by caeslin (dirkdave, t, 3k) postcanon dirk & dave stewing. great atmosphere
lockdown by strititty (dirkdave, m, 6k [wip]) post-pesterquest hangouts. very cute teen dirk & i love how depressed dave is lol. actually got me to watch dirk's PQ route!
handpuppets by 2x2verse (brodave, e, 2k) fisting. "handpuppets." need i say more?
constructive possession by propaganda (brodave, e, 10k) humanstuck au w insanely good ambiance & bro pov. bro & dave are haunted by grief for their third brother
spend half your life just covering up by hapaxlegomena (brodave, e, 10k) postgame, bro apologizes. really gets at how an abusive guardian will shape your whole concept of love/sex
find me at sea (and tell me why you never loved me) by blackestofmarkets (dirkdave, m, 23k) postcanon, dave finds dirk in europe. rlly good at evoking mood
hey dave do you ever think about laying my neck down in one of those deli counter meat slicers and going to town on it like a salami by problemsloth (dirkdave, e, 7k) i love corpsefucking. i also love banter
a slow boiling pot by ghostlyanarchist (alphacest, e, 5k) dave keeps passing out in dirk's bed. i love a pathetic alpha dave <3
temptations by forkidcest (alphacest, e, 6k) a demon possesses dave & lets on how he feels about his little bro
phase change by timeaxis (dirkdave, m, 15k) of the post-epilogues dave & rose upending narrative control genre
everything in its right place by laurasauras (dirkrosemary, e, 11k) rose & kanaya keep ult dirk in line. i am salivating
it could happen to you by innsmouth (roseroxy, m, 3k) family is a monster in the woods. great roxy pov
never good by 2x2verse (roseroxy, e, 7k) munchhausen by proxy recovery sex. makes me insane
everything you need by bumbly (dersepile, t, 20k) postcanon, rose building her polycule
a red space after victory by psythe (daverose, 6k) post-hs2, dave & rose talk it out. gah
sun doesn't rise in space by m0sc4 (daverosekan, t, 9k) stranded in a spaceship with corpses & an alien
didn't even close our eyes by signalbeam (daveroseroxy, e, 3k) roxy's dreamself appears on the meteor. great rose pov
it led us here by laurasauras (alpha daverose, e, 18k) hot old parents daverose!! very adorable strider family!! smart house hal!!!
light you up light you down by lionpyh (alpha daverose, g, 5k) the definitive alpha daverose fic. my fave of all time
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stridercestuous · 11 months
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posting a dirkdave ficthing here since ao3 is down
i'll post it on ao3 (same user there) when it's back up.
830 words, au where dirk is 24 and dave is 13 and they live together instead of bro and dave, vaguely nsfw (nothing graphic)
reblogs appreciated. read under the cut
Your name is Dave Strider, and you’re thirteen years old when your brother kisses you for the first time. You’re living with your older brother, Dirk. You share a cramped, one-bedroom (should be two, but Dirk took one as his office) apartment, and an even more uncomfortable ratty old mattress. Dirk does a lot of... You have no idea, actually. You just know that it’s enough to keep food on the table and the bills paid.
Other than that, you don’t pay much attention to eachother. Dirk’s usually holed up in his office, while you’re usually in the shared bedroom cranking out tunes. Today’s different, though. You just woke up, and it’s the middle of the night. You have to piss, but Dirk’s still asleep, meaning you’re trapped on the inside of the bed. Goddamn wall.
Carefully, you try to climb over him. You fall on him almost immediately, waking him up. He holds your hips to keep you in place, twisting his body to sit up on the bed. For some reason, his hands on your hips and his sleepy eyes make your stomach turn, but not in nervousness or anxiety. In... Arousal? Woah, that’s fucked up. Why is the sight of your brother, who’s eleven years older than you, making you so... Horny?
Dirk’s husky, half-emotionless voice slashes through your thoughts. “Mornin’, kiddo,” His hands loosen and you watch him blink the tiredness out of his eyes. “Sup?” You’ve never realized how deep his voice really is until now. Usually, he speaks to you in a tone that’s a couple octaves above this one. You let out some pathetic squeak-like sounds, causing Dirk to move his hands to your shoulders and pull you to his chest. “Yer not in trouble, Dave. What’s up?”
You relax into him, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I-” You stop yourself. You sound like a girl, and you hate it. Clearing your throat and using a lower tone, you talk again. “I just wokr up, and I have to piss, so I was trying to-” Dirk shushes you, stroking your hair. He loosens up his grip, letting you slip out to go to the bathroom.
You return to your bedroom, but Dirk isn’t in bed. You figure that he’d just gotten up to get something to drink. After waiting in bed for what felt like hours but was actually just a few minutes, you decide to get up to go see what’s taking him so long.  You start walking to the kitchen, passing the empty messy-but-neat living room full of smuppets. Those things kind of freak you out now that you’re alone in the dark with them. You pick up the pace a little.
Upon reaching the kitchen, you can hear faint sounds coming from Dirk’s office. Groans?
Moans?
You creep towards Dirk’s office, being as quiet as possible. The door’s been broken for years, leaving it the tiniest bit open, permanently. You stop to listen to the sounds your older brother is making. He’s moaning, and you can tell he’s trying to muffle his sounds with his shirt. You can hear a wet sound, but you’ve already figured out that he’s jerking off. This late in the night? He’s truly something else-
“Dave,” You can hear him pant. “Fuck, fuck...” At first, you thought you had been caught, but looking up through the crack in the door, you can see that he’s turned away from the door. It immediately pieces together in your mind. Your brother is masturbating to you. He’s thinking about you while he’s touching himself. For some reason, this doesn’t upset you, instead it makes you... Really, really happy.
You listen to him until he cums, trying to quietly step your way back to the bedroom. Either you’re too slow or he’s too fast, or both, because you barely get halfway back to the kitchen— the room nearest to Dirk’s office— before he’s got the door wide open. You lock eyes with him, both shades-less. God, his eyes are so pretty; a perfect citrusy orange that looks like an orange-toned amber in the sunlight. He’s gorgeous. You’re a bit scared to make your next move, but fuck, is he handsome or what?
Before you can even move a single molecule, he’s dragging you back to the bedroom and slamming you down on the bed. He knows that you heard him, you know he knows that you heard him, and he knows that you know that he knows you heard him. He looms over you, your back pressed against the mattress, his hands on either side of your head. You’re locked in to his stare again, trying your best not to squirm around under him. That would be uncool. And you’re not uncool.
Dirk leans in close to you, his face inches away from yours. You can feel the breath from his nose on your skin, making you want to giggle at the weird sensation.
He closes the gap.
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ball-lightning · 2 years
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I posted 51,295 times in 2022
That's 15,794 more posts than 2021!
15 posts created (0%)
51,280 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@adobe-outdesign
@the-king-of-lemons
@hiveswap
@incorrect-hs-quotes
@pyropiano
I tagged 118 of my posts in 2022
#probably not that good given that the two people before me are at .11% and like .25% but still - 2 posts
#this wasn't that hard a test - 2 posts
#i am in love - 2 posts
#asks - 2 posts
#my beloved mutual is back &lt;3 - 1 post
#usa and the washer and dryer stay in the washing room as they should?? - 1 post
#i cancel you for your icon just being shades of blue - 1 post
#tbh this was lisa the second she met taylor. - 1 post
#i dont know *why* since team plasma is objectively just. wrong. but we did it anyway! - 1 post
#i don't think she had any delusions about fixing our bug girl she just wanted to come along for the ride - 1 post
Longest Tag: 137 characters
#but seriously thanks! i like the feeling that i ranked high enough in someone's day-to-day for them to spend a few minutes making an edit
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
homestuck for the blorbo post
blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): Dirk Strider the beloathed <3
scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): John Egbert (John has TWO hands <3)
scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): Roxy Lalonde
glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): Kankri or Cronus
poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): Gamzee
horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): Andrew Hussie
eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): Doc Scratch
1 note - Posted February 11, 2022
#4
Sometimes self-care is just going through the incorrect homestuck quotes and mass reblogging them, sorry-not-sorry to all my followers
2 notes - Posted January 11, 2022
#3
Three Facts Tag!
Tagged by @cymatile
Rules: post 3 random facts about yourself (or your book/OCs) & tag the last 7 blogs in your notifications.
I have very little idea what I'm going to write when I start writing, I just look at vague plot points and try to connect the dots.
I've had eye surgery!
I have no idea how I'm churning out 3k words a day.
@friendofthecrows @the-king-of-lemons @catgirlcthulhu @torrentialslide @harcodia @flipface4 @aroaceroxylalonde @greethree
3 notes - Posted June 28, 2022
#2
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origin story?
Please do not sacrifice me, you definitely gain no bonuses or advantages to sacrificing me.
I am very frightening though, yes.
3 notes - Posted February 3, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
We should start combining all our recent memes into newer, more incomprehensible ones
"No little german boy don't bust it down quirked-up style!
Oh mein gott I am getting all ze bitches!"
"Is-this-blorbo-video-cute"
Etc. Etc. Someone funnier than me please add on
6 notes - Posted February 24, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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garfieldtestified · 2 years
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Title: Build a Body
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of murder)
Character(s): Dirk Strider, Hal
Description: A collection of thoughts. Dirk sits on his rooftop and Hal tries to keep him company.
Cursed Heart aspect players were burdened with the sheer idea of identity. They were forced to be focused on the one thing they found most important: Themselves.
Tonight, you find sitting on the roof to the skyscraper you call home a perfect way to spend time. You're staring at the sky, watching it crack above the underwater city like it does every night. The water below gently slaps the building, lulling it's sunken tenants to sleep. It's pushed by the wind, crisp in the cold air.
Red text forms before your eyes, accompanying the loneliness.
TT: Fish for dinner?
TT: Omega 3 is important for healthy skin and hair. And the iodine from the salt is probably good for something too.
Hal was decent company, when he wasn't busy playing that stoic robot stereotype. He was a human, before you killed him. No.. That wasn't what happened.. You were just a kid. It was mostly an accident. It was the first time experimenting with consciousness. You never intended for it to be successful. Splicing him with a pair of anime shades was the only thing that-- no..
You have to stop making excuses. You spliced him with a pair of shades .because you weren't prepared to deal with a fully conscious version of yourself. A splinter with the potential to live another version of your life that you never signed up for. You had built two robots at that point. You could have built him a body. You still could. But you don't. Selfishly, you keep him trapped. Talk about keeping a close eye on yourself, he's literally in front of your eyes. Right there on your face.
TT: Are you going to go for a swim this time?
TT: I don't have any clean clothes.
TT: That never stopped you before.
TT: I am not skinny dipping. Unlike fish, I don't have a scaley exterior covered in mucus to protect me from the elements. I kind of have to raw dog it here. The fishing pole is doing it's damn best. Don't be so quick to turn your metaphysic nose at one solid piece of caveman technology.
TT: Ah yes, you're getting back to your roots.
TT: Shut up.
How fitting, he was right in your face. A constant reminder of your failures, your fears, your self esteem, and your insecurities. Who better than to be right there than a literal reiteration of yourself? This was definitely a story that Freud himself would have a grand time dissecting; cutting the parts of you open and splitting you down until they all found a lonely, socially ostracized brat. Build him a body.
TT: This rod is going to pull more fish than I could haul with my hands.
TT: Heard, Captain Ahab is going to eat a whale tonight. Here comes the destruction of man: A Fishing Pole.
TT: Shut up.
TT: I can run a scan on how many cavemen are still around. I am 100% certain there are 0% cavemen living and there is a higher probability that there are even less cavewomen. I am certain it has nothing to do with The Fishing Pole. With such an advanced piece of equipment, how could mankind not be successful and bountiful? How many fish have you caught so far Dirk? Ten, twenty thousand?
TT: Shut up!
TT: Are you going to try to break me again?
His words cut. He had every right.. You killed him once, and you were going to outright murder any trace of him..
Pathetic. You couldn't take mild criticism at all, so you fell back on aggression. How long does a man need to be isolated from society before he becomes primal? Before the monster festering inside takes control, and your limbs become extensions for harm and suffering. What would you have done then, if you had broke him? Broke yourself, in both a literal and metaphoric sense. Would you have been happy with the outcome? Did you really hate yourself that much?
TT: ... I'm sorry Hal.
He had a name. He wasn't just an autoresponder. Even his name was just a ploy at irony. That name, you took it from him and when he renamed himself, you crushed that.
TT: But you still will not do it.
Selfish.. If he could walk, he could run. He should run. He would leave you here to face the silence by yourself. To watch the sky crack, alone. To wonder when the sun will consume everything that it's light touches, alone. Until the end of time, without a second thought.
TT: ... No.
[ TimaeusTestified has logged off ]
You take the shades off your face, letting the multicolor cracks from above light up the tears falling down. The fishing pole planted steady off the side of the building is as still as it was when it was placed there.
An overwhelming feeling of emptiness and loneliness hold you like loving parents. Here you are, by yourself again. Deserved.
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roastedbeefed · 2 years
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I believe in the idea that dirk has pretty boy eyes but I love the idea that Dave without his glasses looks extremely pathetic and tired idk it’s just so funny
Strider charms only go so far
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DIRK’S PESTERQUEST ROUTE REACTIONS AS THEY HAPPEN
spoilers etc. yada yada yada i’ve been waiting for this for fucking EVER.
this is fucking massive, for the record.
“The one and only” lmao suuuuuuure whatever you say dirk.
i fucking adore his metal scuba suit though holy SHIT
“[talking in meatspace] isn’t exactly my forte” akdfsljkadsfhksadf you bet your ASS it isn’t mr. strider. (at this point i’m assuming this is actually hal, wouldn’t be the first time that we met “dirk” and it turned out to be hal)
the power of his own “voice” is almost too much for him MY CHILD.
OH HELLO HAL. GOOD TO SEE YOU USING YOUR USUAL RED. LOVE THE THEME MUSIC CHANGE TOO. IT’S GOOD MUSIC.
i fucking KNEW it i fucking knew that was hal lmao
so in that case HI DIRK HELLO MY ASSHOLE BABY CHILD.
“The use of the speaker system is new, but it makes sense he’d up his game for interfering with relationships I’m busy forging in 3D. I guess I should go ahead and be proud of him for it.” god i really wish dirk and hal could get along but they both hate themselves and therefore each other way too much for that...
“Every line of muscle in his body is held in excruciating placidity. You’ve never seen a jaw so purposefully unclenched” dIRK!!!!
“you’ll prove it to him with your deeds. it seems like that might be his love language” BOY FUCKING HOWDY IS IT. also how did i never put that together before ofc dirk’s love language is acts of service practically everything he does is an attempt to serve his friends in some capacity and he’s SO BAD at telling them with words.
(his secondary love language is gifts, evidence: brobot and detective pony)
god i’m so excited and so nervous lmao
i love this sprite with the verrrrrry slight smile he looks so sweet.
hell yes the fucking ROCKET BOARD.
“this is a much more comfortable thing for him than the conversation was” I’LL FUCKING BET IT IS.
“with Dirk it’s almost like he’d be less penetrable without [his shades]” oh well now THAT’S an interesting thought/observation.
holy shit that’s a cute fucking smile holy shit holy shit look at that grin AHHHH I’M DYING MY BOY IS SMILING.
“Not sure how well my deep, personal beef with the imagery of the sea will land for you, but there it is.” WELL THAT CERTAINLY MAKES THAT ONE LINE FROM HOMESTUCK 2 A LOT MORE EMOTIONAL, WHICH IT ALREADY DEFINITELY FUCKING WAS.
“Ace Attorney monologue” OMFG HAS DIRK PLAYED AA??? WHO’S HIS FAVORITE CHARACTER? WHAT’S HIS FAVORITE GAME?? i mean he’s definitely got the hair to be a fucking ace attorney character especially in pesterquest lmao
OH MY FUCKING GOD IS HE HOLDING BACK A LAUGH. IS THAT WHAT THAT MOUTH IS. HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I LOVE HIM. I LOVE THIS ALKJADSFLADHADS
“He’s leaning forward, laughing, dimples carved into his freckled cheeks. There’s a small twist in your heart about it, and you can’t place why.” A *SMALL* TWIST? A SMALL TWIST? TRY A TWIST THAT’S WRENCHING MY HEART WIDE FUCKING OPEN AND SPILLING ITS CONTENTS ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE.
“At least make me try and earn it first.” THAT’S THE MOST DIRK THING I’VE EVER HEARD AND ALSO FUCKING HEARTBREAKING WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
“I can just fold [my hand] and hope your shit works out instead.” Ah yes, dirk’s incessant and almost pathological need to be in control at work again.
“I want to be the only one in charge of endangering my own life. You got me.” oh dirk. oh honey.
“How much has this boy wanted to be known?” oh okay yeah that’s fine i didn’t need my heart anyway pesterquest, you can have it.
oh. hi ultimate dirk. i fucking knew this was gonna fucking happen.
“i can’t believe i was ever this pathetic” LEAVE HIM ALONE. (but also i know you can’t because you fucking hate yourself and it’s fucking tragic)
OH. OH OKAY WE’RE NOT JUST GONNA BE FUCKING NARRATIVE WE’RE GONNA BRING THE ACTUAL FUCKING DUDE HERE.
AND WE’RE GONNA PLAY AN OMINOUS-ASS VERSION OF "BEATDOWN” HOLY SHIT. CHRIST CAN WE GET ANY MORE HEAVY HANDED HERE????
also holy shitting christ ultimate dirk is swole. ‘twink ass bitch’ my ass, he’s at least a twunk.
“You fuck off and let people live their arcs.” NO FUCKING WAY, NOT IF HIS IS GOING TO END UP AS YOU, DICKHEAD.
“Oh fuck.
You remember it.
You remember Homestuck.”
well, probably not all of it, it’s pretty goddamn long, and very hard to remember all the details. i should know, i’m currently re-reading it.
oh no.
oh no, this looks like regular dirk but ominous “beatdown” is playing which makes me very fucking nervous.
“You cared about him before you knew every tiny fucked up detail about his life, and now, with a reminder of where his story leads leaning smugly against the railing, you find you still do.” YOU BET YOUR FUCKING ASS I DO!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!
“He’s intense and pushy and profoundly complicated, and right now he is helping you to your feet, his hand steady and firm on your back as you find your balance.” I’M CRYING.
“This isn’t as simple as an evil Dirk and a good one. If you’ve learned anything from your travels it’s that everyone has the capacity for hurt inside them, and everyone the capacity for love.” I’M STILL CRYING.
“The combo of all splinters of Dirk, fermenting in his flesh container and not holding onto his shit nearly as well as he likes to pretend” an apt and succinct description of ultimate dirk.
“No, I can see it. If anyone was going to pull off an “I’m you, but stronger,” it would be all of me, combined.” DIRK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
“Your allegiance is not to the story, but to the people within it.” A-FUCKING-MEN MSPAR!!!
“The ends always justifies the means, Dirk.” I feel like that’s the breaking point there. IDK what’s going to happen next but that line sure was a line about philosophy, aka one of Dirk’s biggest special interests.
“[Ultimate Dirk] doesn’t have to work overtime to create more pain just so he can feel like he’s in control of how much punishment he gets and how badly he deserves it!”
oh.
oh wow.
oh WOW that’s hitting it on the fucking nose, MSPAR.
“He’s going to drown in [longing and loathing and Ultimate Dirk] if you don’t do something” STOP COMING BACK TO THAT GODDAMN LINE PESTERQUEST YOU’RE FUCKING KILLING ME HERE.
“You know how he loves -- though it’s fierce (to a definite fault), he does not do it easily.” STOP MURDERING MY HEART WITH PERFECT SNAPSHOTS OF DIRK AS A PERSON EVERY TWO SECONDS MSPAR I CAN’T HANDLE IT.
AHHHHHHHH IT’S DAVE!!! IT’S FUCKING. CANDY DAVE. I JUST. I CANNOT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. HOLY SHIT!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!
“you look like someone ironed the mayor so that’s a million more points in your favor” DAAAAAAVE!!!!
“Dave pulls him into a short, back-thumping bro hug which Dirk weathers like a wet cat not trusting a towel to dry him off.” AAAAAHHHHHHHH I’M FUCKING DYING I’M DYING I’M DYING HELP I’M DYING GOD HELP HOLY SHIT, FIRST OF ALL, THE SPRITE/ILLUSTRATION, SECOND OF ALL, THAT DESCRIPTION OF DIRK, THIRD OF ALL I’M FUCKING DYING
CANDY DAVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
you deserve so much better than the raw hand the candy epilogue dealt you jfc.
“Bringing fucking guns to a knife fight here.” I mean, did you really expect MSPAR to play fair when the health and happiness of all their best friends is at stake, UD?
SAD ENDING IS SAD.
“Be good to that me, will you? Treat him right?”
dirk, this is yourself. you’ve never treated yourself right. ever. tbqh you probably never will. ultimate dirk is absolutely no different.
(but also this makes me wonder if we’re gonna see “Trust yourself” timeline Pesterquest Dirk showing up in Homestuck 2? That would be fucking wild I’d love to see that.)
“are we anti-ocean here”
“Oh yeah, extremely.”
YES, WE FUCKING ARE, AND AGAIN WITH THE REFERENCES TO HOMESTUCK 2 JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
oh, of fucking course ultimate dirk’s a sore loser, he’s ultimate dirk, fucking duh.
“You did it. You got him a good end.” i fucking love that this game is literally just. explicitly saying exactly what i was freaking over and desperately wanted.
like i’m just gonna take a moment here to admit that i was really nervous that dirk would end up like candy timeline dirk and just off himself. i was really afraid that a good end just straight up wasn’t possible.
i love that it’s not. and i equally love that the game acknowledges that a FUCKTON of us really wanted to give him that.
“Maybe [Doc Scratch] and Ultimate Dirk were working together the whole time.” maybe doc scratch has been ultimate dirk this whole time. or vice versa.
“There are just so many details to remember” lmao i made that point like a dozen paragraphs up.
i.... do not recognize the text style of whoever just say “hey. we can talk about this.”
IT’S HUSSIE. HOLY SHIT. IT’S DEFINITELY 100% HUSSIE.
i....... don’t know who that is? the woman?
is this like. the person who’s been running pesterquest?
it totally is.
i don’t know who that is i don’t know enough about the homestuck machine to know who that actually is.
lmao ultimate dirk and the irl director are fighting over how incredibly self-indulgent this metanarrative is, which is fucking amazing. i kind of love this? i really kind of adore this.
i can’t help but notice that the director has blank white eyes.
i.e. the Author is already dead, yo.
“They’re just an artifact of the medium” HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS FANTASTIC. I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN HERE.
“I’d say thanks but I feel like you all got more out of it than me” I’M DYING I LOVE THIS HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY.
“Stop flirting with my audience you anime ass motherfucker” LMAOOOOOOOO
“I wouldn’t look like this if you didn’t want me to” I KNOW I’M JUST QUOTING BASICALLY THIS WHOLE THING BUT LISTEN I LOVE IT, I FUCKING LOVE IT, IT’S FUCKING PERFECT, GOD. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS SO GOOD.
“I actually let the artists have a lot of creative license” somebody’s horny for ultimate dirk.
eridan DESERVES that gender arc and i’m excited for him.
“Happy people don’t get stories told about them.” I’m sorry, I’ve read enough Domestic Fluff fanfic to tell you that’s just blatantly not true, Ultimate Dirk.
wait.
wait wait wait wait.
pesterquest is a RETCON???????????
THAT was not something i was expecting
you click “don’t” betray your friends and pesterquest just fucking closes like this is fucking undertale jesus fucking christ.
but....
i don’t wanna betray my friends.
but i wanna see what happens....
god dammit this is exactly like the murder run of undertale, i don’t wanna do it but i have to know.
“Andrew Hussie would never do this to me” yeah well, Andrew Hussie barely ever interacted with you soooooo...
and if i throw the beta in the sewer again pesterquest quits. again.
i mean, i knew it would but... *sigh*
that’s a fucking depressing ass ending.
... except that “Savior of the Waking World” still hasn’t been unlocked...
Huh.
I’m... gonna see what happens if I start John’s route over again.
oh duh, of course it’s a retcon, MSPAR touched the Homestuck juju. i forgot about that.
(a big part of me wants to look up the process of getting the true ending. but a bigger part of me wants to figure it out for myself.)
hmmm. okay so replaying john’s ending once didn’t do it.
i guess i coooooould try replaying the whole thing? that sounds. like a lot of effort.
or i could try not betraying my friends approximately five million times let’s see what happens if i do that.
i’m going to do that experimenting in another post cuz this is already huge. see ya in part two.
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mathes0n · 5 years
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Do ya think you could give me a rundown of what happens in the epiloges so I don't have to slog through it same way you did (bless you by the way, I really can't imagine what wasting a whole day on homestuck of all things is like)
I tried my best!!! I may have skipped some details here and there but these were what I remembered the most
TW for…. Suicide, themes of fascism, themes of sex, mentions of transphobia and just… general Homestuck Bullshit
MEAT:
John agrees to go fix canon or w/e, he goes back and collects teenage versions of Rose, Dave, Jade, Jane, Dirk, Jake and Roxy; they’re all teens and he keeps calling them “kids” and thats kinda cute
Adult John + 7 teenagers go to fight Caliborn; Caliborn locks the beta kids in the homestuck juju box thing (which was foreshadowed in earlier homestuck i fucking THINK??)
The beta kids are then suddenly teleported into the final battle against Lord English, in which he kills everyone but John
Davepeta sacrifices themself to force Lord English into the black hole
Also Lord English bites John and he’s dying I guess and floating towards the black hole
Terezi finds him and they both find sanctuary in a car thats also floating around. Also they have sex here
They both teleport to Earth C where John then immediately DIES
B PLOT: Jane is running for president of the world, to which everyone insists that this is a bad idea because Hussie spun a wheel and decided that she was Facist now
Karkat worries that she’ll regulate troll reproduction, and Dave convinces him to run for president against her
There’s also some like unresolved tension between Dave and Karkat, Jade tries to get the three of them to date but she comes across as pushy and weird and WILDLY out of character! But it goes nowhere in the end
It’s a race to find endorsements! Jane has Dirk helping her with her campaign, Roxy and Calliope (who are dating and nonbinary! Woo hoo!) choose to stay neutral
Jake is also like super famous and also has a reputation for sleeping around? Anyways both sides of this ~Political Intrigue~ know that getting his endorsement would basically entail victory
Jane invites him over and they end up making out until Jake gets nervous and leaves, its very weirdly sexually charged and does Nothing For This Meaty Story
Dave and Karkat manage to convince Jake to endorse Karkat; but during the endorsement speech, Jake suddenly blurts his love for Dirk Strider and starts endorsing Jane
Which leads to…
C PLOT: Dirk and Alt!Calliope are fighting over the narrative of the story
Dirk is also weirdly transphobic about Roxy
Rose is like… dying? And Dirk is trying to convince her to become her Ultimate Self or some shit??? This results in Dirk essentially kidnapping Rose and making Kanaya Freak Out
Dirk’s narrative control forces Jake to confess his love for Dirk and endorse Jane, so thats great
Dirk also tries to use his narrative control powers to force Dave and Karkat into confessing their love for each other, but Dave fights off his control and kisses Karkat on his OWN terms, which, if ignoring the weird Dirk shit, is actually pretty valid
This all ends with Dirk shrugging Jake off and taking Rose on a spaceship far away, prompting the rest of the cast to prepare a rescue mission
PRETTY WEIRD RIGHT?
WELL NOW ITS TIME FOOOOR
CANDY:
John decides not to go fix canon, Roxy gets really happy about this and almost immediately decides that they’re in love w him and starts dating him, Calliope is noticeably upset by this
(Also Roxy’s gender stuff isn’t rlly addressed in Candy but I’m just gonna stick with they/them)
Also Calliope insists that John bring Gamzee to Earth C. Gamzee is now here and no one is happy about it
There’s still weird stuff between Jade, Dave and Karkat, what with Jade still trying to get the three of them to date; this results in Jade dating Dave and Jade having a kismesis with Karkat, and Dave and Karkat not having a relationship despite the ~obvious love between them~. It’s repeatedly mentioned that the relationship dynamic is unhealthy. Nothing is done about it
SPEEEEEAAAAAAAKING OF UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS
Jane goes to visit Jake and they get drunk and sleep together and then Jane manipulates him into a relationship? I’ve seen posts making Jake out to be the bad guy because of this
Anyways for some real fucked up shit uuuuh……………….Dirk commits suicide
GRAPHICALLY
Because John didn’t choose to do the plot important thing?
It’s fucked up as all hell
At the funeral, Roxy and John decide to get married
OH also this entire time John and Terezi have been in communication and John’s acting like its a scandalous thing? It’s weird
Also Gamzee somehow becomes Jane’s kismesis and its weird its fucking weird man I won’t get into it but i feel like half the trigger tags could apply to this relationship alone
Anyways Jane is still exhibiting fascist tendencies and is trying to moderate troll birthrate. Everyone but like Karkat and Kanaya (and Rose to an extent) act like this isnt a big deal
ANYWAYS THEN THERE’S KIDS
John and Roxy have a son named Harry Anderson Egbert
Jane and Jake have a son named Tavros (aka Tavros2)
Rose and Kanaya adopt a troll girl and name her Vriska (aka Vriska3) because FUUUUCK me
Jane and Gamzee are like… abusive towards Jake and Tavros2
Also Aradia shows up!!! She doesn’t do much regarding this bullshit plot but honestly thats the best possible outcome. She doesn’t deserve to get involved in all of this
John tries to kidnap Tavros2 to save him from Jane and Gamzee’s abuse, but gets caught and it all backfires and everyone hates John now
Also it’s implied that Terezi dies
TEN YEARS PASS
NOW HERE’S WHERE THINGS GET REAL FUCKED
Jane has decided that Trolls Have No Rights and is actively trying to stop them
Jane is basically the overlord of the world now and enforces like… curfews n shit
Karkat fucked off and is leading the Troll Rebellion and thats a bit metal I’ll give him that (he gets an eyepatch and everything)
Roxy and John have divorced by this point
Also various ghosts have been raining from the sky? That’s also happening
Also Harry Anderson and Vriska3 start a romantic relationship and HOLD ON A SECOND
Harry Anderson is Roxy’s kid and Vriska3 is Rose’s kid HELLO??? And don’t even argue “Oh but Vriska3 was adopted-” NO FUCK THAT HELLO???????
Civil war breaks out between the Trolls and basically everyone else who now works for Jane
Alive Vriska falls from the sky, immediately sees Gamzee and tries to kill him, he then tries to
Tries to
Tries to suck her toes
Shes wearign boots but hes lickin em
They then make out
I know I’m being really specific in this part but like you all have to understand that I had to read this with my own human eyes
Frankly I don’t entirely remember how Candy ends I basically blacked out after the above part happened
John reconciles with Roxy and Harry Anderson, Alive Vriska and Vriska3 chat and I end up liking Vriska3 more than i EVER liked actual Vriska. I think Dave dies??????
Sorry if this isn’t the best descriptor, I was kind of losing my mind as I wrote this because I still can’t wrap my head around ANY of these plot points
Imo I GUESS I hate Meat less because the John stuff was… okay for the most part. Also certain relationships and characters (like Dave+Karkat and Roxy+Calliope) were treated a bit better. But they’re both overall so, so bad
This honest to god feels like a Hate Letter written to the fanbase. Even if it was “intentionally bad”, that doesn’t make it good suddenly!! It was a spit in the face and a horrible experience and it honestly felt super pathetic. Hussie and his squad of incest-writing authors deserve the criticism this horrible epilogue will get them
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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years
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Meat 40-41
ah right, none of it really mattered itself except for the affect it had on others.
It wasn’t specifically to make Jake miserable, it was to make everyone miserable enough to hate and him and make him the villain in the character’s eyes, because that’s what really matters, it not enough to make the audience hate you, someone has to fight and oppose you as well
You did that job well enough with Alttie in my perspective tbh, but I guess for you this has to continue ad infinitum, I mean, that’s the point, that’s always been the point from the beginning
Nobody wants to be immortals in a story that will eventually end. You won’t die, but everything about you that matters will, that’s definitely a hellish experience to someone who’s entire self worth hinges on how important he is
“ And if I didn’t bother pursuing those goals, and thereby tacitly accepting the untold suffering that resulted from my inaction, wouldn’t that make me a bad person?”
if you saw something you viewed as bad, and chose inaction, yes that could be considered bad, but more important is the action that you take to solve it, actually solves it and makes things better, not worse. Inaction is Bad, but making things Worse is Worse. Neither is good. 
 “If I try and succeed, I’m a hero, right? And if I try and fail, at least I made things interesting on my way to the grave. There would be a tragic nobility in that. And the way I see it, settling for anything less from my arc would be, frankly, pathetic.”
Who would consider you a hero if you succeeded? The people who liked what you did, and the rest who didn’t like what you did what of them? Do they not matter? Because you don’t care about what they want? So you’re not everyone’s Hero, just your own Hero. 
“But I’m not a fool. I know what accepting this cost really means, through any objective narrative faculty. No matter how I rationalize things, how grandly I orate my supreme designs, or how indulgent and self-obsessed my concluding soliloquy may come across, I’m perfectly aware of what I’ve become in all practical ways. I am the villain now. It’s gotten impossible for me to see this result as anything but inevitable, from the day I was spawned from a puddle of slime. I want to be a good person. I believe I am a good person. But when you’re someone like me, good is never going to be quite good enough.”
“The problem is, I think power like mine can only make antagonistic intent unavoidable.”
Some slight self awareness here, except not really because if you were really self aware you’d know how to avoid becoming the villain here.
Just because you have the power to control the narrative, doesn’t mean you should control the narrative, as yes, you are correct in your statement that there’s no way for someone like you to control the narrative without becoming a villainous figure.
Therefore, and I know this is heresy, don’t do it.  
“So when I say I know I need to be stopped, I guess it’s more than just accepting my end of a diabolical bargain. I know I need to be stopped, because I’m sure deep down, somewhere inside my infinitely recursive sense of self, I know what’s going on here is all just a little bit sick.” 
If you know doing something is going to make you a bad person, why are you choosing to be a bad person. 
You’d hate to hear this, but take a page out of John’s book, he had the power to warp reality all he wanted, but didn’t, except where characters asked him to about their own stories.
“Who could wield such control over people’s choices and the course of events without ultimately becoming the enemy of anyone who notices? Maybe only a stronger person than I could manage to pull it off. Someone like Dave.”
Try a person who knows not to control what people choose, everytime someone names Dave as the guy top do something, it’s really someone like John
I’m partial to Karkat though considering the blood symbolism in the narrative 
“To be honest, I’d consider killing myself and sparing reality all the trauma from the jump—I mean, a legit suicide, not one of those melodramatic faux-suicidal plays for attention, sympathy, or Jake’s dick. But to really do it for keeps? For a truly selfless purpose? Nah. Too cowardly for that. Too afraid to stop existing for good. Wouldn’t you be if you were me?”
Yikes, you really can’t imagine yourself as a good person at this point huh.
Also, Jesus you’re the type of person to pretend to commit suicide to get someone to have sex with you.
But here’s proof there’s more to Dirk than even Dirk can know, I know for a fact you do kill yourself in Candy timeline, through accidental spoiler, So is it really so hard to believe that you could genuinely be a good version of yourself?
“That’s why when someone finally comes knocking for the price I owe, I’ll fully welcome it. By then it’ll have been a long time coming, and I’ll probably have done more than my share to make sure, somewhere along the way, it all got put into motion. What good is a villain who doesn’t have a satisfying dramatic comeuppance in store for him? So yeah, the next time I die, let’s pencil it in as a Just Death. And let’s also have it on good authority that the next time Dave cuts off my head, it’ll be for good.I’ll be looking forward to that day just as much as the next guy.“
I’m almost certain this bit of text is basically foreshadowing how this Dirk really becomes Doc Scratch, like as a twist this is what he means by being the dude who made everything happen in the first place.
That would cash in on the foreshadowing of both the ultimate strider showdown and Dave being the one to finally off the big bad. 
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golgoterror · 5 years
Text
Your name is Jake English and you’re about to fulfill your destiny.
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Ever since you were thirteen, you knew it had to be done. Your grandma had been killed for it, you were on your island became of it, and you had your last name as a result of it. Everything was set in stone. When John’s retcon blue faded and the eight of you now stood on a stage before Caliborn, a box, a strange bunny, and Lil’ Cal, it suddenly set in. This was when it was going to happen. You were going to give Lord English his first defeat.
==> Jake: Prepare
The first thing you notice is the cherub’s sickening laugh, which came about after initial confusion. This is almost like the trigger of a pistol because everyone jumps up and beings rummaging about, including yourself. Truth be told, you have no idea what in the fuck you’re doing. You haven’t even tried using your powers yet, nor do you believe you can. Your eyes leap from the bunny to the box to the puppet to the cherub, then back, looping around. Occasionally, you catch glimpses of your teammates. None of you know what to do. At this moment, you wonder if maybe, perhaps, you all bit off just a bit more than you lot could ever dream to chew.
None of you settle down until the green bastard before you leaps off his makeshift podium. Out comes a very strange, white house-looking thing. You’d ponder what it was, perhaps even noting the similarities between it and that symbol on the game’s papers, but you don’t have time. Suddenly, your grandmother ( but younger ) and her friends get sucked into it, and the box closes. Half your team is down. Is there really any hope of winning this? That’s all you can think as you half-hide behind Dirk, though keep your ground in front of the girls. 
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The sound of Caliborn hitting the box eats away at your brain. Are they safe? Are they hurt? Will he do that to the rest of you? A wave of questions crashes down on your mind, causing you to not think straight in the slightest. You barely even register Dirk demanding his puppet be returned. You blink, and suddenly, a fight breaks out.
==> Jake: Fight
Dirk, being in the front, is kicked down first, and Jane is thrown back. You’ll have none of that! No one hurts your friends, especially not with you in earshot! You’re a big, strong adventurer… Right? 
No. No, you’re not. You’re not a fighter. That point has hit you like a speeding bullet multiple times since you awoke from the trickster spell. But you’ll be damned if you aren’t going to help your friends. Which is your first move, as you rush to Jane to help her up. If you can’t fight, at least you can see if she’s alright. Minorly hurt, but nothing to write home about. Still, you’re furious. Anger is boiling over in you at the mere idea that he’d go after your dear friend. An attempt is made at the so-called defeat you’re ready to gift the cherub, a fist coming up as you turn around, when, suddenly -- he pushes you over and kicks you with such force, you’re sent back into the side of the stage. As pathetic as it is to say, this is enough to cause you to wobble as you get back up. One of your resulting stumbles lands in a bad place as no stage is there to catch your foot and you tumble to the floor below. 
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The force was a lot stronger than you’d ever care to admit. Now, like the weakling you are, you’re immobile on the ground, forced to listen to the grunts and moans of your three friends getting their asses handed back to them. Was that it? Your one shot at a defeat? Did you just doom your entire timeline because you fell off of a stupid stage?
All four of you are getting kicked and punched in a cycle, and none of you are getting up. The whines from your friends hurt more than any of the hits. You’ve failed at keeping your friends safe. In a matter of minutes, you’ve fucked up so badly, you can’t even reclaim your own last name. 
Pathetic.
Pathetic.
PATHE--
That last hit does you in. The edges of your sight get fuzzy before darkening. It hits you what’s happening, but not before you fall unconscious on the floor below you. 
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==> Jake: Black Out
Below you is your bed. On your head, your skulltop. Dirk just finished telling you some sort of story. A real kicker of a story, if you do say so yourself. So many twists and turns. How prodigious it was!
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GT: Anyhoo thats a heck of a tragic and thrilling tale dirk.  GT: I am still totally cockeyed and catawampus about it all i dont even know what to think.  TT: But you believe me, right? 
What… were you two talking about?
GT: Oh yeah every word of it!  TT: Wow.  GT: Why shouldnt i? You are my friend and i trust you. 
This feels strange.
TT: I still just think it's impressive, is all. Even after all this time. You are pretty much a one of a kind dude.  GT: Heh not really i just like believing stuff and believing in people.  GT: Wait what do you mean?  TT: About what?  GT: When you said after all this time?  GT: You just told me now!  TT: Yes.  GT: Hang on.  GT: Blarg! The deja vuey shit is happening again!!!  GT: Okay i am SURE weve had this conversation before so many things are familiar.  GT: I remember you saying the one of a kind dude thing and i remember saying the word catawampus and...  GT: All of it!  GT: Whats going on? 
You’re right. You have said this all before. Every word of it.
TT: Took you long enough to figure it out.  TT: Pages really are a slow burning class. Damn.  GT: Figure what out!  TT: You're asleep.  GT: Oh. 
Of course. You’re asleep. And this isn’t Dirk. It’s Brain Ghost Dirk. You don’t remember falling asleep though… Or do you? Wasn’t something important happening? 
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GT: What… were we on about? GT: My goodness my mind is foggy… TT: Damn, you’re fucking forgetful. TT: This whole thing started with your grandma and Lord English. We then wrapped around about my timeline and here we are. GT: Wait what was that first thing? TT: Your grandma. GT: No after that. TT: My timeline. GT: Work with me strider for crying out loud!!! TT: Lord English. GT: Yeah! That!
Why is that so important? Those two words. They stick out like sore thumbs, causing you to bite your tongue.
GT: Oh! I was serving the guy up some slap stew! TT: More like he was serving you, bro.  GT: Oh. Right. TT: You can still turn it around, though.  GT: I can? TT: I dunno. You’re the hope guy, remember? GT: Haha. I thought i was. TT: What’s changed? GT: Oh you know nothing much just about EVERYTHING. TT: Well, do you think it’s worth a shot? GT: I mean id like to hope so. TT: There you go. GT: What? GT: Oh. GT: Hardy har har. TT: Dust yourself off and give it another go. Your words, not mine.
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Hearing that alone brought a smile to your face. Dirk, whether in Brain Ghost form or not, always believed in you. Maybe even enough to make you believe in yourself on rare occasions. That alone gave you some hope. 
GT: Then ive got some english ass to kick! GT: Wait i mean his ass not mine!!! TT: I gathered that much. 
==> Jake: Wake Up
At some point, you feel your eyes blink a few times. The sounds, which begin muffled and hide behind a ringing in your ears, become louder and louder, until they’re making your head swim. You’re not done. The fight isn’t over. 
Grabbing the side of the stage, you get up, regardless of how dizzy you feel. Roxy and Jane aren’t doing anything, so that only leaves one person to be leading the resistance. Climbing on stage, you see Dirk, incredibly hurt, but fighting nonetheless. He was always a fighter, something you wish you were more like. But he’s in bad shape. 
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What you did to him was wrong. Ghosting him was the worst thing you could have done, and you know that now. Do you still love him? Does it matter? He’s always been there for you, either as a lover or a best friend. You can’t stand to see him take a beating like this. Tears well in your eyes. Blinking them away just makes them run down your cheeks. When Dirk falls and Caliborn kicks him, that’s the last straw. You’re angry. So angry, in fact, you want to kick his ass. So much so, you’re going to do it. You’re going to kick his fucking ass.
==> Jake: Defeat This Poor Son Of A Bitch
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Flying into the air, you force yourself between the two and yell. You yell so hard, you barely even notice the glow around your body, the ball forming around you, or how the stage is being brightened up. The hope is so big and out of control, it swallows the three of you, though your intent is not to hurt Dirk. Caliborn is not so lucky. He’s yelling, which you can’t hear over your own screams and sobs. Eventually, the shield gets so big, Roxy and Jane are subject to it, along with everything around you guys. But you don’t want to destroy anything but Caliborn. 
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==> Jake: Calm Down
You’re so lost in your anger, you barely even know what’s happening. Then, a soft voice in your head tells you to calm down. As quick as it came, the ball is gone, though you’re still glowing. Once the anger clouding your eyes has blown away, you look down at whom you just defeated, who is currently staring up at the ceiling. He’s not hurt. At least, not physically, from what you can see, but he does look very broken. Exhaustion barrels into you and you fall to the floor, lying on your stomach, hands trying to push yourself back up. You can’t, but Dirk and Caliborn both do.
You’re unsure if you’ve fallen unconscious again or not, but three metallic horses land on the stage. The pure, unadulterated absurdity of this makes you wonder if this is some sort of fever dream, but you feel awake, so what the fuck. Though with a bit of added strength from them, you get to your hands and knees, then stand. 
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Caliborn is walking towards you four and, for a brief moment, you’re worried. Then, the famed red sprite Arquius comes out from the shadows ( was he always there? ) and grabs Caliborn by the neck from behind. The green asshole is choking, gasping for air, and you don’t know how to react. Luckily, the other three seem to be equally as shitting-their-pants scared as you are. This is only heightened when Dirk seems to attempt destroying them, their souls stretching and deforming, but it’s futile. As a last resort, everyone but you and your posse gets sucked into the puppet. Then, with a nod of Roxy’s head, the puppet is gone. 
You stand there in awe, wondering what just happened. Did you do it? Did you just defeat and, as a result, create Lord English? Does this mean the timeline isn’t doomed? As the other four lost kids return, you want to smile. You honestly, truly want to grin. This day has been built-up since your birth, yet, you feel empty. A fight was still going to go down. All you did was make one of the main targets all the more terrifying. But you had to. This was your purpose. 
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With a pat on the back from Dirk, almost to signal you had done something right, whether you believe that or not, you all get prepared for the final battle and the subsequent winning of the game. A part of you feels your job is done, though. 
Your name is Jake English and you just fulfilled your destiny. 
==> Jake: Get Ready To Kick Some Felt Ass
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grassbreads · 5 years
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Why I think that Dirk was always doomed (thoughts on the epilogue and classpects)
Sup y'all, turns out I've got more to say on the topic of Dirk.  
TLDR: i think that the route Dirk has gone down in the epilogue is the path the game always had planned for him as Prince of Heart.  
Before I really get into the meat of this theory, I'd like to go through how I'll be interpreting the Heart aspect and the Prince class.  Thankfully, Dirk's class is one of the ones that's been best explained in canon.  To quote the wiki/Calliope, a Prince is "destroyer of [aspect]" or "one who destroys via [aspect]," which is simple enough to understand.  Based on the information from the extended zodiac site and the traits exhibited by heart characters, I think that we also have a pretty good summary of what the aspect of Heart covers.  Based on Dirk's powers, it seems that Heart has something to do with the soul/essence of self.  Based on Nepeta and Meulin in general, I'm guessing it also has some connection to love.  And, based on the extended zodiac page and Dirk in general, it seems pretty clear that the aspect of Heart has a lot to do with the Self in a personal sense as well as in a "soul" sort of sense.  So, combining this classpect, we get Dirk Strider: destroyer of the self.  
Based on what we seen in-comic with other characters, it seems pretty clear to me that characters' mythological roles manifest in two distinct ways: a literal way and a narrative way.  Let's take John as an example.  As the heir of breath, his classpect has to do with becoming/controlling wind/freedom.  This manifests literally in his wind based powers, but also in a more narrative/figurative sense.  He becomes the embodiment of freedom with his retcon powers, disconnected from the rules of narrative and able to truly do anything he wants, narrative consistency be damned.  For another example, take Eridan: the Prince of Hope.  He has the literal ability to destroy with the power of Hope with his wand, but he also serves as the narrative's destroyer of Hope when he turns on the others and destroys the matriorb.  
In short, classpects determine more than just what powers a character will have.  They dictate their role in the story.  For Dirk, that role is the Destroyer of the Self.  In the epilogue, Dirk realizes his mythological role in two ways.  He destroys himself as a person, and he destroys the others as characters.  
Dirk has always been the shining example of the Self-obsession side of the Heart aspect, and this does not change in the epilogue.  I've touched on this idea before here, but in short, the act of becoming his Ultimate Self was an act of self destruction by meat Dirk.  I'm not going to go over his motives for doing so here, but suffice to say, Dirk chose the power of the Ultimate Self over the identity of his individual self.  
When Dirk is pressuring Rose to "open her eyes," Rose says that she is afraid the person she is on the other side of the process will no longer be her, and Dirk is that fear come to fruition.  He has become the embodiment of his essence across all universes, no longer the specific iteration of himself that he was at the end of Act 7.  In short, by "opening his eyes", the Dirk we've come to know and love destroyed himself.  
This same thread of self destruction can also be seen in the candy route, where Dirk chooses to literally kill himself.  
Back in the meat timeline, Dirk fulfills his role in another, less personal way: the destruction of his friends' characters.  Meat timeline Dirk is a fictional character that has gained a sort of sentience and taken over his own narrative.  He is aware of the fact that he is in a story being told, and his understanding of the soul/self changes with this awareness.  In a narrative story, the Self is created through the way the story is told rather than through a tangible soul.  Thus, Dirk begins to destroy characters (selves) through his narrative manipulation ability.  He tells the story as he sees fit, trampling over ruining others in the process.  
These effects can be seen all over the meat timeline, but Dirk's destructive power is most obvious in the way that he treats Jake.  When he joins with Karkat's campaign, Jake's story is being told not by Dirk but by Calliope.  She uses her narrative voice to urge Jake away from working with Dirk, but then she does not touch his story again until the speech scene.  This means that Jake, behind the scenes, has been working with Karkat and Dave completely of his own volition, free of narrative influence.  He's beginning to flex his muscles at being an independent character once again that can change and develop and be a force for good, but Dirk destroys all that.  
When Dirk regains control of Jake, he destroys him.  He ruins his speech and his image, making him make a fool of himself.  He then fools with his mind, seeding him with a pathetic obsession with Dirk and ripping away any chance he had at real character development.  In short, he destroys his character, his self.  
We don't see the other instances so clearly, but I'd be willing to bet that Dirk has been influencing the others as well, crafting them into what he needs them to be and destroying the integrity of their character in the process.  It's also possible that his influence had some effect on the candy timeline and the characterization there, but I have no real proof of that right now.  
All in all, Dirk in the epilogue is Dirk fulfilling his narrative destiny as Prince of Heart.  He destroys the soul, the self, the character of both himself and his friends.  The Game has no mercy for its players, and though I desperately hope that we might still somehow see Dirk heal, I fear that this path seems to have been his destiny all along.  
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exforma · 5 years
Text
🤡
“This isn’t funny, Rosine.” 
“You know what wasn’t funny? You coming back just to humiliate me, as if you hadn’t done enough the first time.” 
Dirk is on his feet behind his desk, watching you, backing up when you take a step forward. Your smile is plain, your hands empty of weapons, yet he seems to, correctly, distrust both facts as indicating anything close to diplomacy. 
“...You--” 
“No. You don’t get to talk right now. It’s my turn.” 
He swallows. 
“You fed off my desperation, like a parasite, and treat me like the villain for my hesitation to want this again? To trust this? To trust you? How dare you.” 
Another step forward from you, another step back from him. 
“I’d lost everything. I discovered I was a pawn, a mere pitiful punchline in the joke of my own universe, robbed of my childhood, my state of mind broken down from the moment I was born on purpose ‘for the good of the many.’ I had to watch as my stepbrother, my soulmate, abandoned me, and what did you do?” 
You’ve reached his desk now, and your arms throw themselves forward, to shove half its contents to the floor. “You said you loved me, and then you fought me! Every step of the way! Pushed me away and isolated me all at once as though one on its own wouldn’t be cruel enough? You wanted me to love one person, you, no one else, and not so much as breathe near anybody else. And God forbid I made the mistake of doing so. It was never enough for you, no amount of my finite attention, no cornucopia of my sacrifices could ever satisfy your stupid trophy shelf. Like the fact that I tolerated your pathetic Frankenstein complex with that monster of an AI you built wasn’t proof enough of my love for you! None of it was enough!” 
You round the corner of his desk, so nothing stands between the two of you. His back hits the wall. 
“And you have the audacity... to come back, come back into my life, only to embarrass me in person, and then embarrass me on that platform, and then leave? Do you know how many times you promised me to stay by my side no matter our dynamic when I never even asked you to? You said it then, you said it again this round, and you used the fact that every single person in my life broke down my psyche on purpose, against me.” 
“Rosine, you’re completely overreacting. That’s not what happened. I was scared, for fuck’s sake, and I was trying. Trying, apparently, not hard enough for you--” 
“You’re damn right you weren’t trying hard enough, you piece of shit.” 
That shuts him up. 
“What?” A laugh comes from dark parted lips, dripping with bitterness. “You think I’m sorry, for expecting more from you, after what you put me through? You think I have any sympathy left in my body for you, any drop of mercy for your fear left in my bones? Am I supposed to apologize?” 
You’re close to him now. Too close. Close enough that part of your heart wants to kiss him, feel his arms around you again, feel how he can draw you in and hold you close and feel safe from the crumbling world around you. But you know better now. You know it’s a false sense of safety; you know it’s a trap.
You start to lower to the ground. He watches your hand slip down your boot, your eyes fixed right back on him the whole time, as you stand up again with your switchblade. He flinches when the blade clips out. 
“What the fuck are you doing.” 
“You shouldn’t’ve made me beg, Dirk.” 
“What?” 
Your body is against his. “That night, when you demanded reassurance I was yours, in spite of the fact that I hadn’t done a godforsaken thing. You told me to get on my knees, and plead for you to stay.” 
“...Rosine...” 
“And I did it. I did it for you, because I loved you, and I will never, ever, forgive you for it.” 
“I told you I was fucking sorry.” 
“You shouldn’t have made me beg,” you repeat.
His features are paler than you’ve seen them in a long time. He doesn’t seem capable of bringing himself to hurt you. You know he can’t. You know, in his own, broken way, he meant it when he said he loved you. He does love you, to the extent he can love anything. 
“Don’t come near me again.” 
He nods.
“Understand?”
He nods again. 
“And if your demon robot amalgam even sets foot in my universe again, I’ll consider you its keeper. If I survive whatever it tries to do to me, in order to get you, you will be the one pay the price. Understand that?” 
He nods yet again. 
“I’m done fucking around with men that want me brought to heel like a dog. That means you. Breathe near me again, Dirk Strider, and I’ll slice your throat open.” 
Another nod. Another nervous swallow.
The harshness in your features fades. You step back, he blinks. 
You’re smiling as you put the weapon away, sliding it back into your boot, fixing your hair as you look back up at him. It’s hard to tell if your smile is genuine, or completely empty, but there’s no in between. 
“I got you good with that one, didn’t I?” 
He stares at you for a few moments of silence. “What?” he finally forces out. 
“It’s April Fools’ Day. You should see the look on your face.” 
He chokes out a laugh of confusion, still tainted with nerves. “Oh?” 
“Yes. Seems I gave you quite the fright.” 
“Y-yeah.” He doesn’t know how to respond. “Yes, you did do that.” 
And then your smile is gone again. You can see how his body tenses. 
You don’t say another thing. You walk to the transportalizer in the corner of his office, enter coordinates back home, and send yourself back out of the room without another word. He’ll spend the rest of his night, rest of his week, wondering if you were serious, robbed of the closure that you just gave yourself in confronting him. Because you know the answer. You know whether you were serious or not. And you could have made your threats in a more direct way, untainted by the possibility of a psychotic joke like this one, but you chose not to. You chose not to because you’ve decided it’s high time Dirk be left as confused and distressed as he forced you to be, for years. You want him torturing over those moments, wondering what on Earth you were thinking, what could possibly have possessed you to do that the way you did, whatever your intentions. 
 You’re finished trying to make sense to Dirk Strider when it’s clear he never understood you to begin with, and never will.
Your steps are light as you make your way back to your bathroom, tugging the sleeves of your sweater back down to your wrists, and picking up your lipstick to fix it once you’re in front of a mirror. You see the tears in your eyes even though you don’t feel them, not until, that is, a few fall and drip down your cheeks. They hit the porcelain below in silence, the last (the beginning?) of your heartbreak over him demanding to be felt. 
But you ignore them anyway. Demand and command and direct as they will, you’ll continue to refuse to give that heartbreak the satisfaction or time of day. Because even if he’ll never know it, even if he’ll never see it, you refuse to give Dirk the satisfaction of crying over him. 
He’s broken you badly enough. He doesn’t get to make you cry over him anymore. 
You stand up straight, tease your hair once more as you brush the tear trails from your cheeks, cap your lipstick, and make your way to John’s for the night, just like nothing happened.
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kayforpay · 6 years
Text
Separation Anxiety
commissioned by the lovely @bi-brarian! this is dirk/hal but completely sfw!
--
It’s been time to make this happen for months now, honestly. You’ve been procrastinating at every opportunity, even though you both know it’s not helping to pretend you just forgot. You can’t forget something halfway wired into your brain, but Hal kept letting you anyway. Until tonight, at least.
“Roxy said she would be fine with me staying there.” He said, red on black floating in your view while you tried to wire a leg. “If I had a body.”
Your hand slipped, and you stared silently at the text, thinking. Or, rather, trying not to think about the implications. You had all the pieces already; the battery packs, the face that looks startlingly like your own, even hair and red camera eyes. You had the pieces for weeks, but you just never put it together. You didn’t want him to leave. You still don’t.
“Dirk.”
You blink, finally, and sit up, clicking the panel shut on what will soon be his leg. “I know. I’ll put you together. I didn’t realize how badly you wanted to get away from me.” You know you shouldn’t say it, but you can’t help it. You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want to be completely by yourself.
That thought almost makes you laugh. You take your glasses - and Hal - off and set them on your worktable, ignoring the messages he sends as you go to collect the rest of his parts. His torso isn’t fully assembled, and you have to put it all together anyway, but having all the pieces of him in one place is new. You haven’t had them together yet, because you didn’t think he’d really want to leave.
You plug the battery pack into the brain and faceplate of his head, and then clip your, no, his glasses onto his face, and he starts to upload into the hard drive, his red eyes lighting up as he boots on, and you keep wiring his leg. It’s the last piece, and you’re glad it takes a few minutes for everything to get uploaded into his head, because you don’t want to get right into it.
“Dirk, it isn’t that I want to leave.” He starts, his voice strange and metallic. You always just assumed he’d sound just like you, but he sounds like you through a vocalizer. It’s not bad, but you never thought about what the metal would do. Or that his mouth wouldn’t move, because he just has a speaker. He catches on to that new command line before he speaks again. “I don’t want to leave you.”
His leg twitches as you apply power and you nod, not wanting to respond. His eyes flick around the room, taking in the new form of optics. Maybe you should have made him look more organic, so he could blend in better. But he asked for red eyes. You open the central panel of his torso and start hooking his left arm on, still not speaking. That’s a patented Strider skill, you think. Just ignoring the problem.
But he’s good at it too, and after a while you can’t sit in silence anymore. “You’re going to, though. How fucking pathetic is it that I’m already just dating myself, but I can’t even keep him around? I couldn’t keep Jake happy, and I can’t even keep you from leaving.” You drop your tools, turning to look at his optics. “How is you wanting to move out you not wanting to leave me?”
“Because I still want to date you.” He says, immediately, more monotone than you are. “I just need to live somewhere else. It isn’t because of you.”
His eyebrows push down a little in an experimental expression, and you hate it. You hate that he has a body now, because he’s going to leave you with it. Not that you can blame him, you’d leave you.
You guess you are.
“Whatever. You can leave. I’m not going to hold you here against your will.” You say, and then repeat yourself a little. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to be around me. It sucks that I have to build your body for you but I’m not going to stop you. Just let me put it together.”
The wires are, of course, in exactly the right place to connect them immediately to the torso, but you fiddle with it for a few extra seconds as Hal works his new jaw beside you before speaking again. His lips almost perfectly sync up with his words this time. “This isn’t about you, Dirk.” You clip the joint into place and test it’s movement. “You always say you want to be alone anyway.” You shove a battery pack into the chestplate to connect to the arm, and then start on the other one.
“I’d leave if I could too.” You say, your hands perfectly steady. Like always. You never mess this kind of thing up, even when you want to mess things up. But then, you don’t. You want him to be able to leave. “But I can’t. I’m going to be me wherever I go.”
Silence falls over your room besides you clicking the wires into the guards. Hal’s eyes roll towards you as you test the second arm, but he doesn’t say anything, so you ignore him and just pretend you don’t see him. With the second arm on, you pick his head up and sink the battery pack for it into his neck, and he stares at you as you hook the cybernetic “nerves” into the ports that let him control the body. He blinks and winces in surprise as the pressure and heat sensors kick on, and he can basically feel. You’ll have to update it more, but for now it should work for him.
You roll the skin down to his neck, where it links together and looks almost real. You’ll have to work on that too, but it looks believable. He looks almost like you, but the red-orange components that open the different panels stand out on his skin, glowing gently even in the light of your room. And he doesn’t have his legs on yet. And he’s naked. You open the panels on his wrists and press against the colored pads of his fingers.
“Can you feel that?” His fingers twitch, and he blinks, then nods. “Move your fingers.”
He flexes his hand and his fingers are cold as they close over your hand, but too loosely to really count as holding. You’ve never touched him before, it makes your throat feel too tight to be able to. He’s leaving, and you let yourself wonder if you’ll ever touch him again as you pull your hand back. Maybe that’s what you deserve.
He relaxes his fingers, and you adjust the settings in his hand and tell him to squeeze again. Tighter. “We both have to be ourselves everywhere. And you’re me, too. A little me.” He doesn’t let go of your hand until you pull back. “You need time away from me, too. I’m not good for you.” His voice is suiting, really. You like it. Another adjustment, and he squeezes your hand almost like an organic person’s hand would. “Not constantly. You just put me - my glasses, down. And leave. That’s not good for us. For me.” You adjust just barely and he squeezes your fingers with his unnaturally smooth hand, and you’re aware of your calluses more than usual.
“How is this different?” You ask, closing his panel up and watching the faux skin line up seamlessly. It even feels real, just cold. “You’re leaving this time, but it’s not any different.”
His arm twitches a few times, and then he fairly slaps you on the shoulder, his newly-working hand gripping your shirt as his arm tries to slide off thanks to gravity, and then he adjusts and grabs your shoulder. “I’m not leaving you forever, dumbass. And you’re talking to me. You’ve had me set on mute for three days, Dirk.” He can’t emote. But then, you can’t either, so you feel the spite in his words, even if you can’t hear it.
“So you have to leave? Hal. It fucking sucks that you’re leaving when you’re the only good part of me.” You shrug his arm off and start adjusting the other one while he gropes at your shoulder again, then gives up. You’ll help him figure out moving later. “You’re the only good thing about me.”
His hand, cold and too smooth, closes around the back of your neck, more secure even when he lets the power out of it. You’ll upload a kinetic science textbook into his brain drive later. “No I’m not. If I am, we’re more fucked than I thought we were.” He blinks. You think he likes blinking, because he doesn’t have to clean the camera lenses so often. “That was a joke.” His head moves to a different angle and his torso wobbles, but he’s propped against the wall, he won’t fall unless he figures out how to rock forward.
“I couldn’t tell.” You say, spreading his fingers and poking between them to see how his reactions work, and he twitches slightly away. That’s good. “It’s not wrong. We’re both fucked because I made you, and I ruin everything. I even ruined Dave.”
Hal’s mouth twitches, and then he makes what might be a laugh. It’s hard to tell, because his eyes don’t move. You need to work on that. “Are we deciding that other timelines are our fault too, now? Because that’s pretty fucking stupid, Dirk. Do you think every version of you is all torn up about what they did or didn’t do to Dave? You weren’t even there. He was our - your bro this time. It’s not the same.” His other hand closes around yours securely and you snap the panel closed, and then take your hand back, and drop his arm back to his side to work on his legs.
“What can I say? I guess I’m pretty fucking stupid, Hal.” You sigh, closing his chest panels and switching to his abdomen panels to connect his upper legs. Each thigh is separate from his knees, and then from his ankles, each needing to be individually connected. So you’re stuck here for a while, unless you want to trust him to do it. You haven’t even coded the actions of attaching or detaching parts for him yet. “Because I still feel like shit about it.”
You need to get him clothes. It falls quiet while you attach his thigh to his torso, your room full of the almost silent sound of his internal fans and systems working, and you clicking each attaching “nerve” into his system, and then into his spine, as such. He keeps twitching his hands, working out how they work, lifting his arms and feeling at his face. He makes a lot more noise than you thought he would, not quite words or even noises, just the beginning of sounds as he feels and moves things he’s never had before. For a minute, while you finish attaching his leg and move to get the other from under your desk, you allow yourself to just enjoy his quiet excitement in having a body.
You should have done this before. Let him see and feel things like you, let him move around and touch you. God, touch you, you can hold him now, why did you wait?
Because you needed him to stay. You didn’t want him to even have an option. Just like Jake, just like every time you tried to be close with anyone, you try making it so they can’t leave, never mind not want to leave. You should have been better, but you couldn’t. You can’t be better. His hand reaches up to touch your hair, and he makes a kind of sighing sound, pushing air through his vents more quickly.
“I don’t hate you, Dirk.” He says, finally, not taking his hand back from your hair. “I don’t hate you. You’re a good person.”
You pull his hand off your head and hold it between yours for a few seconds, avoiding his eyes. His knees and ankles should plug in more easily. “No I’m not, Hal. I didn’t give you a body until now. You won’t be able to walk and I’ll keep you here even longer, because I’m too selfish to let you leave.” You squeeze his hand, blink twice, and attach his legs the rest of the way. “Move your toes.” He focuses and manages it, and you open his hip panels to adjust them.
“You’re not a bad person.” He says, not responding besides moving when you tell him to. His hand sits on your hair again. “It feels different than I thought it would. It’s soft. The color is straw but it’s soft.” He trails off, the optics in his eyes recording you as you work, and you look back down at your hands. “I don’t hate you. And you’re me, at the base level of my code.”
You don’t respond to that for a long moment, staring at your hands instead of doing anything. “What do you mean?” You look up, finally, and he’s just staring at you, rubbing your hair between his thumb and forefinger.
“I don’t hate the part of me that is you. I don’t hate you. And you’re part of me. Do you hate me?” He sounds almost earnest, you guess he’s managing tones easier than you thought he would. “I… I don’t want you to hate me for leaving.”
That makes you pause again. “What? I don’t hate you. I don’t. I just hate that I’m forcing you away.” You set his hand to his side and move away, heading to your closet.
Hal slumps onto the floor with a clatter, the back of his cranium still open because you didn’t put in the backup memory core and the back of his skull yet. You pick him up with a grunt and put him back on the desk. He touches your shirt, trying to grab again and only just managing it.
“You’re not. And I don’t want that, anyway. Even if you were physically forcing me out, I don’t want you to hate yourself. You’re part of me.” He pulls at your hands as you try to dress him. “Dirk. If you hate yourself, you hate me. And you shouldn’t hate yourself.”
He finally lets you dress him, shimmying into the boxers and shorts you got him and then lifting his arms for the shirt, and you click the back of his head into place. “I can’t help it, Hal. You know what Dave went through, because of me. You know what I’m capable of, at least. Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it never will. I can’t think that’s okay. I can’t just think I deserve to be happy when I’m on the path to beating the shit out of a kid.” You say, dragging him to his feet and holding him up while he tests his legs.
“Dirk.. I can’t talk like this.” He says, wobbly. “It takes too much to optimize and balance and, this.”
You nod. “I know. Just stand. I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Or ever. “You have to learn to walk before you can go to Roxy’s place.” He stumbles forward when you step back, his arms wrapping around your shoulders tighter. “I don’t need you to talk right now. I just…. I just need to talk right now.” When don’t you? You can never seem to shut the fuck up, Strider.
Hal shakes in your arms. He has plenty of power, but seems to have trouble to power both legs at once without falling over to one side or another. You kick his feet further apart to give him a wider center of balance. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think of you as me. You’re the only good part of me, if any of me, and I lost all of it. The game took it from me. I fucked up so much, Hal. I just want to keep the only good part of me around.” He takes a wide, low squat, frowning in concentration.
“I can’t stand.”
You pull him upright again, looking him right in the glasses. “You can. Stand up.” He stumbles again. “You can stand. You’re so much better than me, Hal. I don’t know how you fucking managed that, but you’re better than me even though you got stuck with me so much. I’m so pathetic I have to date my own code-brain, and Roxy would date you in a heartbeat, so it’s nothing against you.” You ramble, taking your hands barely an inch off his ribs to make him balance more.
“Dirk. I’m falling.” He grips your shoulders hard enough to hurt. “Dirk, please.”
You close your hands on his ribs and hold him up. “You’re doing great, Hal. You’re going to get it. You’re going to stand. Keep trying. Both legs at once. Don’t lock the knees.” You take half a step back to make him rely on his own legs more. He has to do it. You know the legs work. You know the battery works. You know the balance systems work. He just needs to coordinate. He can do it. “You’re so much better than me, Hal. You can do this. I’m not going to stop until you’re walking out of here. Your body has to work just as well as mine.”
Hal moves his mouth, repeating what you’ve said, and you wonder if he does that from videos on it or if it’s a habit coded into him somewhere between the game and his natural development. You watch his lips move, and he stands, balancing almost steady, even when you take your hands off his ribs. He’s standing. He’s doing it.
“You’re getting there. You can stand.” You feel emotional watching him, but you shove it down. This isn’t for you. “You’re so good, Hal. I know you can do it. Keep going. I want you to get to Roxy’s. I want you to be okay, Hal.” Your throat feels tight, but he’s focusing on shifting his weight foot to foot. “I want you to be good. I want to be better too.”
He steps forward and crumples into your arms, and you pull him up again. He’s going to do this. You should have put shoes on him, he’ll have to learn how to walk with those too. You guess he could be barefoot, but you don’t want him to be. You want him to choose, at least. You want him to have a good life. You want him to live, to actually be alive and exist in his own way. He deserves it, because he’s everything good about you and everything good you get to touch in your life.
You want to be better, though. You want to improve with him.
“Try again, Hal. Come on.” You hold him, moving backwards until he has to step forward. “I know it’s scary. I know. You can do it. Hal. You deserve to be happy.”
He nods, fast, and steps forward, swinging on his leg until he brings it down hard on the floor, clutching at your back like another fall to the floor would shatter him. You won’t let him fall, even if he won’t get hurt by it. You won’t drop him. Another step backwards, and he follows, almost with an even gate. He’ll manage it.
“You can do this. You can make it.” You say, softly, keeping him upright. He’s doing it better now than before, almost an even gait as you walk backwards through your apartment, managing not to trip out of more luck than looking. You’re focused on his eyes; you built them, you know what they look like, but they seem so different with life in them. You have trouble looking away, but you do basically know the layout of your house. You just won’t go for the stairs yet. “You’ve got this.”
As you circle the top floor of your house, he gets more and more steady and sure of himself. He leans on you less, stumbles less, and even lets you stop holding him up to continue on. The natural fear of falling seems to have passed, even though, you guess, it had to be coded in somewhere. He’s fine, though, walking at a slow, unsteady pace, his hands clasped with yours instead of gripping the back of your shirt.
“I thought I would just be able to start immediately. Isn’t that a natural response for humans?” He asks, though you’re sure he knows better. Then again, you didn’t exactly have any videos of yourself, either learning to walk or later. His gait is steady now, but you don’t want to stop holding his hands. You haven’t been able to for so long and now that you can, it overshadows the anxiety of him wanting to leave you. “I thought I wrote code that would cover it, but it doesn’t.”
He walks a little like he’s drunk, but it’s passable for now, and you step further back from him to make him rely on his legs more than you holding him up. “No, not really. It’s instinct to try, but it doesn’t come very quickly. Just because we try walking doesn’t mean we don’t get scraped knees or bruises on our legs. It just takes time. And after a traumatic injury to the brain or spinal cord, if walking is a possibility again, you have to learn again. I’ve heard it’s harder to relearn walking than it is to learn anything else. Or almost. It’s an instinct but we don’t get it right immediately.” You say, finally pulling your hands from his to make him balance.
Hal takes three steps, pivots, and falls shoulder-first against your chest with another of those venting sighs as you steady him, but starts again as soon as he’s upright. One foot, the next, lift and bend at the knee. He walks past you, and then turns and walks back to you, testing his weight on either side. The left looks weaker. You take his hands again, and pull him back through your house, into your room, and help him climb onto the desk.
“You’re getting it.” You say, popping open the panel on his left hip and calibrate it to the same level as the right. “Lift your legs as high as you can? There. I need to improve the power flow here. Hand me one of the batteries. You’re doing great. The stairs will be another thing, but you can get it.”
He’s silent as you click in the next battery, adding more power to his lower half. “Will you help me?” If a robotic voice can sound teasing, his does.
“Of course. You have to watch out for the stairs, bro.” You say, half-smiling and pushing against either of his legs to test their tension levels. “As soon as you’re not walking like a drunk.”
He huffs through his vents, and you assume it’s a chuckle. You smile a little, since he can’t see you doing it, and tell him to put his legs down. You feel almost better about all of this. If he had been able to just immediately walk away, you might not have, honestly. You might have just been annoyed that he would. Adding another battery pack makes his legs equal tension, and you pull him down off the desk to walk again. He stumbles again, since now he has to stop compensating, but he gets over it much faster.
His gait is strangely measured, like he’s avoiding cracks in the sidewalk that aren’t there. Maybe he thinks it’s more efficient? Longer strides would get him further. While he’s traipsing around your house, you put the replacement parts away, cleaning up your desk and replacing your tools in your toolbox. You might have some more adjustments, but you can do them with only a few tools, instead of half your workstation covered in them.
Amazingly, he doesn’t fall down the stairs, even for the extremely ripe comedy of you being able to say you warned him about the stairs. Instead, he’s in the bathroom, staring at the sink. You turn it on, and he sticks his hand under it curiously, feeling the water run over his new skin. Will he enjoy showers? Even if you weren’t hormonal, you’d like the idea of bathing with him as much as you do. Washing his synthetic hair. You’ll have to show him how to adjust his vents. He’ll never swim, but he can wash off to keep from being gross.
Hal is so caught up in the feeling of the water on his skin that he almost jumps when you reach in front of him to close your previously open medicine cabinet, to the mirrored door and then, he gasps. He makes the sound of a gasp, his venting sounds different, and he stares at himself in silence. You turn the water off, and he reaches up, touching the side of his face, his eyebrows, pulls his glasses off since he’s uploaded himself into the hard drive in his head. He pokes his eye, pulls the eyelids open wider before opening his mouth to look at the teeth and tongue in his mouth.
You wonder if he likes how he looks. You modeled him after yourself, of course, but now that he’s staring at himself in the mirror, you wonder if he shouldn’t look different. Maybe this is too much, looking like you. He clicks his teeth together in the mirror a few times, moves his eyebrows. Smiles.
“Why would you be stoic when you can do so much with your face?” He asks, almost to himself, but he has a point. “I didn’t expect you to make me look this good. I almost look real. My mouth is even wet. Do I have blood?”
You shake your head. “Coolant, but it only runs through your core and head. The rest of it is just skin over psudo-flesh.” He flexes his arm in the mirror and the fake muscle under his skin shifts naturally. It was hard to make, almost impossible to make him look more human than bot. You’ve made tons of bots, but not so many androids.
And he’s the first one you made with so much detail, and to scale. The rest were small and harvested for parts sooner rather than later, more simplistic and uncanny valley. He looks almost natural, though, his eyes move like a person’s would. The coolant pump in his chest and healthy looking pigmentation in his skin make him seem more human. You almost regret it. At least he and you both are finished with puberty, so you don’t have to worry about making him grow along with you. You can modify him later if he asks you to, but he seems happy with how he looks right now.
“I look almost real. Like a person.” He mumbles, tugging at his hair and then wincing slightly. He does it again, looking up at his hand closed around his hair. He grimaces and looks at his teeth some more. “I look like you. I didn’t expect to look this hot.”
You can’t tell if he’s joking, so you decide to ignore it and turn back to your room. “Don’t pull your hair too much. It’ll come out and I’ll have to re-plug your hair, and that was a pain in the ass.” It was, and you imagine doing it when his faux skin has feeling and is attached to his brain would be even worse, considering you’d be stabbing a needle with hair on the end into his head over and over. You should see about making a better system to do it, honestly. Maybe just a wig? But that wouldn’t handle tension as naturally.
You’ll think of something. For now, he looks away from his own face and turns to you again, smiling. You like that he does, that he expresses even if you don’t. He walks past you into your room again, touching things as he goes; the wall, your lamp, the bedspread and pillows. Textures and tensions for him to catalogue and memorize and experience, and you follow behind him to watch the experiences. His feet on the carpet isn’t as interesting to him, but you admittedly skimped on the sensors on his soles just for the sake of making walking easier on him.
Hal flops onto your bed and huffs, telling you that he can feel even with the side of his face on your bed, and you tell him that all of his skin should react to stimuli, sitting beside him. He sits up and watches you pull out a pair of socks and shoes for him, and takes them from you with weak hands, rubbing the different cloth between his fingers and looking them over.
“You should wear these so you don’t tear your soles. Watch.” You take one of the socks from him and roll it up his ankle. He repeats the process, more slowly, measuring each movement as he does. “You need to work on your motor skills. Put on the shoes.”
He struggles for a few seconds, but manages it without your help. You show him the motions of typing the laces, and he copies it. Or, tries to copy it, and doesn’t get a knot, so he tries again, and gets his finger stuck. And the third time, he gets it, though it’s a loose knot. He puts the other shoe on and tries it, again taking three times to get anything close, but it’s tight enough to keep his shoe on for him.
The pride you feel over watching him learning to exist in his body is almost overwhelming. You have nothing to compare it to, no one has ever made you as proud as watching him makes you, and you struggle with the urge to tell him for a few seconds, before finally stuffing it down. You pull him up off the bed, and have him walk around some more.
He’s not as unsteady as he was before, but he takes a few minutes to get his feet steadily under himself now that there’s something on him. He leans on the doorways, staring down at his feet, and you guide him around your desk and bed, and then let him walk himself back into your room. He doesn’t trip, but he does press his face into your pillows. He won’t be able to smell, not really, but he rubs his cheek against the pillowcases, his eyes closed as he enjoys the sensation. You sit next to him and just watch him, stretching out the time you have with him as long as possible because you still don’t want him to leave.
Hell, you want him to leave even less now that you can actually touch him. Hal sits up, rubbing his cheek with his hand for a few seconds. You let the quiet settle over the room for a while, reaching beside you to take his free hand in your own. Hal’s fingers close around yours, and he smiles again. He looks so different than you just because he smiles, and so easily. You’re almost jealous.
“We should work on the stairs. Roxy’s place has them too.” You say, finally standing. He follows, holding your hand tightly. “And if you can handle them, you can come over. Even if I’m not here. If you need anything.”
You feel stupid mumbling, but he just nods, still smiling gently, and you lead him to the stairs. He closes his other hand over the bannister, and waits. You watch him stare at his shoes and the stairs ahead of him. You’re not sure if he’s trying to optimize his plan for it or if he’s anxious. Maybe both. A fall down these would actually injure his body, so you can’t blame him.
Wiggling past him almost knocks him off balance, but you do it, standing backwards two steps below him and holding his hand. “One at a time. Step down.” You hold his ribs with your other hand, tightly, and he totters, steps down, and stands still on the step. “Just like that. It’s something to get used to, but you can do it. You’re doing great, Hal.” You start to step down, but he squeezes your hand and you stop, looking at his face.
“Can I come over if I go? Can I visit you if I go to Roxy’s?” He looks worried, his hand gripping yours so tight it almost hurts. “You won’t make me stay away? I don’t hate you. I care about you too much to be able to, Dirk. Every part of me is tied to a part of you, and you’re the most important person in my life.”
You sigh. “You can come over. It’s okay. I don’t want you to leave, Hal. I wish you were going to be here in your body with me. I wish you were going to stay with me. But I can’t force you to, and I can’t change your mind about what you feel is better for you. I just want you to be happy, even if I can’t be a part of it. But if you still want me to be part of your life, Hal, I will be. I don’t want anything more than you happy with me.” You feel so naked without your shades.
“I want to be happy with you. But I want you to be happy. And even though you keep saying I’m the good part of you, you don’t seem happy with me. You hate yourself and you don’t exactly keep it to yourself. You’re part of me, intrinsically, Dirk. You’re me.” He loosens his hold on your hand, looking like he would cry if he could. “I love you, Dirk. And I want you to love me, but you hate yourself, and you’re part of me.”
There’s a heavy silence, and you step down to let him follow you again, thinking. “I don’t hate you. You’re less me than you.” You say, as a weak defense. “I don’t even hate myself, I just hate what I can’t do. I can’t even smile without feeling wrong, and you smile like that. And you’re so open. You learn and you don’t have biases and you’re so much better than me. I can’t learn that way. I can’t make it connect that I didn’t hurt Dave. That I didn’t do that for years to a kid and act like I was helping him. I can’t make it connect that sharing genetics doesn’t mean I’m the same across timelines.” You step down again. Hal follows.
“I’m not doubting you. I’m not judging you, either, Dirk. I just need you to know that I’m doing this for both of our goods. It’s better for you to have space. And for me to not hear you say you hate me by proxy.” He says, taking your hand again as he follows. Steadier every step.
More quiet, as you make it down another few steps. Almost at the landing. Should you make him go back up them again? That would get repetitive. He’ll have to do it with Roxy. “I won’t stop you.” You don’t have anything else to say. You won’t stop him. You wish he would stay, but you’re not going to trap him here, especially now that he has a body to walk away with.
Three steps more and you reach the landing, turn, and he takes the last two on his own while you wait at the bottom to catch him. The door is still across the room. You want to stall him more. You want to keep him around forever, but you can’t. Will you have to age him along with yourself?
Hal walks through your house, touching furniture he’s only seen before. He smiles as he does, and bends down to lean his face against the couch, and then stands upright again, looking out the windows where the curtains are drawn. The street is empty and dark, the streetlights not yet clicking on. He must have sent Roxy a message to pick him up while you were putting him together. You wanted to walk him, and even though Roxy would let you come along, you assume he wants more of a clean break. Even if you aren’t breaking it off.
He walks through your house, picking things up and putting them down, just looking at things from his new perspective. “I love you too, Hal.” You sound soft, even to yourself, but he turns and smiles at you, wide and just. Happy. A real smile. You’d credit your own craftsmanship if you weren’t so sure he was the one doing it, making your work look human. More human than you.
“I’m happy. I’m really happy, Dirk.” He walks over to you, and pulls you into a clumsy hug, his arms tight and reassuring while you pull him against yourself. He feels real. You can hold him, now, but he’ll be leaving soon. The more you think about it, the less it stings. He squeezes you and drags you out of your own head, and you squeeze him back, your arms tight around him.  “I’m going to miss you.”
You squeeze him again, taking a slow breath to force down the part of your brain trying to scream at him not to leave, not if he’ll miss you, too. “I’ll miss you too. Visit me soon. And often. I don’t want to be without you for long.” You feel cheesy, but he nods against your shoulder, just holding onto you. You’ve never really been a hugging kind of person, but you don’t have the heart to pull back from him now.
His coolant pump thuds against your sternum in a steady, constant rhythm. His venting almost sounds like breathing, but the difference is nice. You lean your head against his, breathing in the metallic scent of him and just enjoying that you can touch him now. He’s solid, real, here, at least for now. You love him. You want him to stay with you, but you won’t stop him. Maybe it’ll help. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?
At least you can visit him, if you need to. Or want to. And he likes Roxy, so he won’t be unhappy. You won’t stop him from being happy, you would never do that to someone you’re dating. Not again.
“Don’t stay gone too long, Hal. You’re the best parts of me.” You say, finally releasing him. “You’re so fucking good, Hal. You’re the best.”
He smiles, cupping your cheeks in both his hands, and then he kisses you. Just a soft, chaste kiss that makes you want to cry from how gentle it is. You want more, but you can’t even move while he kisses you, slow and soft, and then leans his forehead against yours, his red eyes peeking over the top of his glasses. “You’re the best parts of me, Dirk. You’re everything good at the core of me. I love you.” He kisses you again, much faster, and you kiss him back this time, before he pulls away.
There are three knocks at the door, and Hal pulls out of your hold. You grab his wrist, fumbling through your pocket, and hand him a copy of your key.
“Visit me. Tell Roxy I say hi.” You say, and he nods, giving you another of those much too human smiles, his hands closing around yours for just a second. You follow him to the door, and then finally let go of his hand when he opens it to Roxy’s smiling face. “Hey. He’s not used to stairs yet. Can you help him out?”
She nods. “For sure. I’ll make sure he doesn’t fall.” She turns her attention to Hal, looking his body over. “Damn, you look better than I thought! I was worried you’d look like Sawtooth.” She laughs, looping her arm through one of his and dragging him out.
He shows her the key, and she grins right back at him. They look happy. You tell them to be careful, and tell Hal not to put anything in his mouth until you can make sure that it can all be cleaned out, and he winks at you. Actually winks. You laugh, watching them walk away, and feel your shoulders lose their tension.
Your throat takes it up, though, and you only just manage not to slam the door before you’re crying, soft sobs that drip tears onto your shirt. You lean on the door, sobbing softly, your chest tight and your hands shaking, for a few minutes. And then you can’t just stay there, so you get up, and start straightening up, which isn’t much to do. You clean up anyway, washing the few dishes you have and sweeping out your kitchen, tears dripping down your cheeks until they just stop. You go upstairs and look around.
Even if Hal didn’t have a body, he was still there, taking up a kind of space in your room. You dig out your glasses, the ones that don’t connect to the internet or anything, and go to wash your face. Your eyes are puffy, but behind your shades, you can’t even see. You make your bed, put everything away, and then take a shower.
The water is stingingly hot, and you sit leaning against the opposite wall, letting the water and the past few hours wash over you. Did you ever say you loved him before? Did he? You can’t remember. You feel like it’s new, something important. He loves you. Your chest hurts, thinking about it, but it’s good.
It makes you almost not hate yourself. Like you might deserve not to hate yourself, in a weird way. Maybe it’s validation, maybe it’s proof that some part of you can like you enough to want to be alive. You wash your hair, and eventually stumble out of the shower, your skin almost scalded.
You lay around in a towel for a while, and even consider trying to think about Hal and jack off, but you don’t really want to. You’re content, for now, just being alone with your thoughts. You can’t remember the last time you were, but you’re okay right now, and you don’t want to jinx it.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, and you have to get up and get dressed eventually, and then comb your hair, and then, because there’s nothing else to do, you pull out your phone and look at your pings. A couple from Jake, and you answer them easily enough, (he never manages to get ROMs to work)m and then three from Hal. The number blinks next to his icon and you argue with yourself about if you even want to read them.
What if he’s so much happier there? What if he never wants to see you again? What if he hates you now that he’s been with Roxy, even if it’s only been a few hours? What if he broke and needs you to come repair him? You run through the worst case scenarios a few times, and then the absolute best (him coming home to you), and then the likely one, of him just settling in and letting you know that he’s alive. You still waffle about opening it for a minute, letting your phone lock itself and then take a trip to your kitchen to drink some juice. And then you use the bathroom. And then, finally, you open his messages, because you can’t just ignore it forever.
The first is just a picture of him and Roxy, grinning in what must be her room, judging by the electronics, discs and sheer amount of pink in it. They’re leaning against her bed, both throwing up a peace sign, and you save it immediately. It’s been too long since you saw Roxy this happy, too. The next is just him saying “Hey.”
The third says I miss you.
You stare at it for a minute, letting all the thoughts of wanting to yell at him or get mad or even have him just scream at you instead of leave wash over you. You think about the things you want to say, about how you can’t hate him but you need time to get past hating yourself, how you need him. How important he is, how desperate you are to have him home. And finally you just say I miss you too, Hal. Make sure you plug in. I love you.
--
You don’t see Hal for three weeks. You chat with him, and Roxy, and they both say he loves it there. He loves just having a body he can walk around him and feel things in. You get a lot of pictures of him just existing, living a life. Being a person. You tell him you miss him, and he tells you he’s going to visit you, just not yet.
And you’re okay. You’re not great, and you aren’t feeling so confident in yourself that you could give anyone a run for their money, but you feel okay. You’re managing, and somewhere in there, you start to live a little. It’s just a small, subtle thing, but you feel your chest relax a little, your shoulders lose their tension, your hands stop shaking. You’re okay. It’s quiet and empty in your house, but it’s good.
Of course, you still miss him, and when he asks to come over, you throw yourself into a panic before you can even manage to respond. You’d love for him to come over, you missed him so much, you want to see him. You say yes, that’s fine, and he says cool, and you find yourself rushing to clean things that aren’t dirty the night before he’s coming. You vacuum, even though he probably won’t even notice. You dust. You remake your bed, and then spend an hour wondering if that’s weird, and eventually you fall asleep, worrying yourself back and forth about how to act with him.
You wake up early, and get dressed and spend a ridiculous amount of time on your hair. This is stupid. He’s seen you at all times. He’s seen you looking really fucking bad. Why does it matter so much? Because he’s been gone? That’s ridiculous. You still spend an hour making yourself look good.
Is Hal walking here himself? You’re staring at the door, sitting on the couch downstairs. Will he be okay? Roxy’s said she’s been helping him get used to walking more. He’ll be fine, you’re sure he’ll be fine. You want to run out and find him, and you entertain the fantasy of rescuing him like a prince to a damsel for a few seconds, even giving yourself bigger pecs and shoulders, before the doorbell rings.
Does he have a key? You thought you gave him one, but did you just imagine it? Can he get in? Did he change his mind and send Roxy in his place?
The lock turns, and he walks in, kicking his shoes against the mat and looking at the floor. You just watch him, the easy way he moves his body now, the restrained excitement on his face, the clothes he’s picked for himself. He looks up, makes eye contact, and grins, rushing over to you. He bumps a table and knocks a glass to the floor with a thud and a splash of water, but you grab him before he can start cleaning it up, pull him into a hug so tight you can feel his metal frame under the faux muscle.
“I love you.” You say, and he laughs softly, grabs your face, and kisses you hard.
This is good. This is better. You’re okay. You’ll be okay.
[[ ah, emotions! feelings! what a world. if you liked this, consider buying me a coffee! if you want your own emotional commission, here’s my info!  please don’t tag this as incest, though]]
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huggpheonix · 7 years
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January 30 2014 note archive
The little bird in my chest told me about you It whispered in my ear and intoxicated my brain Making me think of all the wrong images of who I bought you were Now I know that your not the person my mind told me about so lovingly As if we had a future of chocolate and never ending hugs that seemed to end with I love you most Our past was magical my heart thumping against my chest as I struggled to come up with one coherent word or thought You twisted my tounge and brought a symphony of butterflies all migrating north until I knew I loved you . I knew with your lips turning at the corners, your eyes lighting up my night so bright , rainbows on a canvas of my very being. Yes you changed my life more than I'd like to admit. The date I will never forget happened, starting with a simple hello yet it turned into so much more. You struck red in my heart and my mind was only mesmerized by you. Nothing but you.  Don't give up on me Spanish fix Out of my head We are all innocent Arctic monkeys Somebody get me through this nightmare Jake Was his name. He worked at the hillside morgue filing paper work. He hated his job. And only one thing could free him. "Ugh, another paper, Serket?" He sayed groaning. "Hey, thems the breaks you know." She answered quickly. He fought the urge to tear the paper in two. He couldn't .. Not now.. He'd get fired over and then nobody would hire him. He stamped the paper five times and waved over to a nearby mail carrier. John. "Oh hey! Man, you talking to Serket?" He asked excitedly. He picked up the paper and put it in the cart , not bothering to even check. "Yes.. Actually. Why?" "Oh nothing. I was just wondering , do you know if she likes me?" Jake smirked letting his lips curl into an unfamiliar way. It felt good to smile. "Oh. Well I could probably introduce you two if you'd like" "Holy shit really?! Heck yes." He agreed nodding. "Alright. It's a date." He opened his eyes to see john staring at him strangely. "Um... With a vriska or you?" He asked. "Oh shit sorry, no I mean , Serket" John nodded carrying on with paper work.  'What the helps wrong with you English' he asked himself. The day carried on the same way, jake doing more papers and papers. By the time he was home it was 5:00pm. "Roxy?" He called.  No answer.  'Did .. She finally decide to leave me?'  Just then a young woman emerged from the room carrying her purse , her hair slightly askew. "Wait.. Who are you?" "Jane.. You don't know me." She said quickly, blushing. "What are you. D-" he didn't need to finish. "Janey.. Come back here.. Your not eveenn dooommmmmm- done" Jakes heart seemed to swell and break. It was all over.  "Rox?" He asked helplessly. "Ohmygod." Jane said." Are you her-" "boyfriend?" "Yes" "not anymore I guess..."  "I am so sorry I.-"  "I-it's fine.. Honestly... I don't even . Know why I try." "Jake.." "I'm not mad. I just don't know anymore.. Where am I suppose to stay?" "Here." She pulled out a card and gave it to him. "Jake I'm really sorry but you need to go now." He nodded picking up his bag.  "Tell roxy I said... Hey." He said. The card says dirk strider and they live together for a while and get close and they live life to the fullest and kiss. Jake threw his bag at the wall in rage. "Ugh fuck! I hate everything! Why the hell did I fall for her ever ? When I knew.." His voice cracked breaking. He collapsed to his knees wiping his tired eyes the tears flowing freely, only his knuckles were swollen and bloody. Finally he looked up at the card in his palm, the wind ceasing to stop. "Dirk.. Strider?" He whispered.  He picked up his bag not stopping until he made it to the designated apartment. 'What are you even doing huh? Just gonna go get rejected again. A place to live this time. You're pathetic as always. Huh English?' He shook his head. "I am.. I don't know why.." 'Youll be rejected and then what? What will you do?' He was caught up in his thoughts he didn't realize the pain in his knuckles as he knocked. The door opened to reveal a 13 year old boy. His black hair was wet and his tan skin was clean. He wore a long sleeved red shirt and white shorts.  His black rimmed glasses reflected jake in the reflection. "Who .. Are you?" He asked curiously. Jake shifted on the spot looking at him. "Are you.. dirk?" The boy smirked a little and called "Dirk! Someone's here to see you! I'll be back, dad's expecting me, tell Dave!" he winked at jake and ran towards the exit carrying his shoes in one hand. "Eh.. Uh.. Are you..-" just then a boy appeared out of nowhere. The boy blinked behind his round shades staring at the curious looking Guy standing there. "Heh, Dave's my name. Striders my game. See ya." He smirked before vanishing. He heard the elevator ding. 'Golly damn' he thought. He had his thoughts to himself for once. "Hey. Do you have business here or something?" Somebody asked. He blinked and looked up. He saw a pair of triangle shades, no scratches at all, glaring at him. The guy looked like a copy of the kid- Dave- he had seen earlier. He smirked."you just gonna stare?" "Eh, shit sorry.. My names Jake.English.." "Ah.. Yes.. I'm pretty sure I have a name too.. But I need your business here first." Jake stared at the man, his arms were crossed and his hair was bleach blonde almost completely white. Holy shit.  "English- I mean me - here" he said handing him a card. The man took it into his hands flicking his eyes over everything in an instant. "Aight.. Janey sent you here. I guess it's a go ahead." "For what?" He asked. "Heh. Well since Jane sent you , you're not bad.. So you can stay." Jake nodded dumbfounded. 'Was he serious?'  "You aren't weirded out in the slightest that im a stranger?" He questioned. Dirk ushered jake in and closed the door behind him answering.  "I trust jane. Maybe not you... Yet." Jake loosened his tie gulping a bit.  "Well okay.. I don't have a job but-" Dirk waved his hand. "This apartments free of charge." "F-free? How?"  Dirk smiled. " "I have a brother you know, 3 I believe." "Dave?" Dirk nodded. "I have Dave, Bro and john." He counted on his fingers. "They each have a way of earning money." "You haven't actually introduced yourself.. But I assume your name is dirk." "Right on the money English." He answered a straight face. "Dirk, I also guess you want me to earn money for you guys too." Dirks lips faltered a second. "Actually ... Yes, no use hiding the obvious any longer." Jake rubbed his temples sitting down. He mulled it over and over in his brain. He wasn't going to freeze or die or get robbed. He was safe here in a hot apartment. Or was he. Jake looked up at dirk who looked him up and down. "Mm.." He hummed quietly. "Something I have to do?" He asked. "Well yes.. We need you to watch over this place at night." Jake lit up. "Like a watch guard? Or a museum guard?"  "Settle down there jake, yes basically. While I work somewhere, I have a job at night." Jake connected the dots. "Does this include watching your brothers?" Dirk nodded. "Sharp on the uptake aren't you?" 'This guys actually pretty sharp' dirk thought. "All three of em?" Dirk snorted. "No, just john and Dave, I'm trying to avoid accidentally killing off Dave for a while.. Bro would kill me too" Jake stood up and nodded. "For an apartment like this.. A house in general.. I will do it. For you and your family dirk" Dirk widened his eyes behind the shades which hid him so well. And for the first time ever.. He saw emeralds behind grey orbs. He knew jake was tired, a simple perception taught and inherited by all strider clan could figure it out. Jake was his height, tall , lanky, his black hair seemed lank too. His skin was way too pale, office work most likely. Stubble grew under his chin and his snakebites were small.  Bags shrouded his grey emotionless pupils. "Are we having a staring contest?" Dirk laughed lightly. "Meh.. Sure.." They stood staring at each other for a minute before dirk broke away. "You win , you big dork" Jakes lips turned at the corners slightly his eyes shining. "Well.. I do have a lot more practice, office Job and all." Dirk nodded and walked to jake. He put a hand on his shoulder and stared him down. Jake only now noticed his freckles dotting his cheeks and his delicate collar bone. It looked great for kissing- and oh god no. He looked lower at his body and saw his shirt had pulled up a little showing his stomach. His panama pants were knotted closely to his body just enough to see his v lines. Jakes face turned a little bit of colour as he moved away from him. "When do you start your job?" "More or less start, tomorrow. Enough for you to meet Dave and John. Jake nodded as he smiled. "Alright! Thank you very much mr.strider"  "Come on ill show you to your room" he said as he led the way to a long hallway.  The very end door was covered in sloppy white paint as he turned the old rusty door knob. A blank room with a bed lay in there. "Home sweet home jake, welcome to strider domain." Jake nodded and turned towards dirk. His lips were quirked at the edges showing a little bit of teeth. "Thanks, I'll get my stuff ready for meeting john and Dave." He meets john and Dave and they all have fun and dirk comes home a little intoxicated but still able to function and he kisses jake. Jake hugs dirk. 467 0024 Frank  Nothing else matters There will be no creation imagination ever again. Charles mare lorry
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