It is August 4th, 2016, and Alex has posted fanart tagged #daverose to their main blog.
It is August 30th, 2025, and Alex has posted fanart tagged #daverose to their main blog.
i have not read hs2!! i read the epilogues when they first released. they mostly didn't tickle my fancy (i like the art/visual storytelling nature of original homestuck), but i think they had some cute moments, case in point:
Beverly Mantle/Elliot Mantle (Dead Ringers TV) vs. Dave Strider/Rose Lalonde (Homestuck)
Beverly/Elliot
Dave/Rose
Voting ended onJan 10, 2024
Homestuck fanart by Timsel-kun on deviantart
Propaganda under the cut:
Beverly/Elliot:
Hot lesbians both played by Rachel Weisz! And they're canon in the book it's based on, and like HEAVILY implied to be for realsies in love and fucking in the show. Great lesbianism, great incest
There's literally a scene where elliot is listening intently to beverly having sex in the next room, and she like moans listening to it ok
Beverly's gf breaks up with her cuz she's weirded out by the twins relationship
Beverly likes to attend a support group for ppl with dead siblings and pretend her sister is dead like the psychosexual issues here.....
beverly and elliot were literally trying to have a child together. Elliot (a gynecologist) artificially impregnated Beverly MULTIPLE TIMES
Dave/Rose:
Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams
What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister
I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always
We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together
Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.
THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR
Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.
do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes
dave looks like blurry 35mm photos of the city as the sun is setting and sounds like when you can hear the bass of someone’s music through their headphones on the train and smells like when you open your windows for the first time in months and feels like crinkled sunday comics someone spilled coffee on and didn’t bother to wipe up
rose looks like freshly carved marble veils casting shadows in bright lit rooms and sounds like hushed conversation behind doors open just a crack and smells like old whiskey bottles filled to the brim with flowery perfume you swear you’ve smelled before and feels like running your fingers along an old hand knit sweater hanging in the back of the closet that no one knows who made but cant seem to part with
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