#they wrote this guy for me i swear

[kenonade]

im developing issues

[pianostarinwonderland]

skully who r u [fae skully + a ramble on his possible background]

we have less than a day before we get the ending for this event and IM. NOT READY. im not ready to hear about how skully is a person from the past (and we're thinking 200 years or so), nor am i ready to go back to twst to hear that he's dead in our time and he's really the founder of modern halloween that nrc celebrates

... that's assuming he's human tho

and fortunately or unfortunately, there's hints that twst has been dropping that leads us to think otherwise

firstly: ears WHERE

in his live2D, you dont get to see his ears At All. not even a hint of an ear lobe. we know twst to be very detailed and deliberate with their designs so why did they choose to hide his ears

in his illustration, u can see a hint of an earlobe, but it's still very much covered

and as we know, when we look at malleus and lilia ears, we Know that they have pointy ears marking their pure fae ancestry. soooo skully..????? 🤨 fae skully real?????

i partly market the fae skully agenda bc PLS. WHAT IF... MEET . . .. .. IN OUR TIME. .. .. .. .... . PLS... . ... . .. . ..... 🥺 WE SEE HIM ALIVE BUT A LIL OLDER AND WAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH pls i cant handle this yall

secondly: there is still that part in Episode 1-4 of skully saying to us "moshi... ne, moshi" instead of "moshimoshi", and a lot of ppl shared that the belief of supernatural beings not being able to address someone more than once is at play here. which would at least indicate to us that skully is at least not ur regular human being. and that is one thing about skully that we Can be sure about

on what skully may be, myonmyon put out a thread about how skully may be at least inspired by the Fear Gorta, a fae whose folklore was created from the irish famine. it's characterized by a skeletal appearance who wears tatters and rags. it can be benevolent or malevolent, but if u treat it kindly, it will bestow good blessings upon you. Fear Gorta also refers to Hungry Grass, which, if one steps on a cursed patch of grass (which i assume the fae created), they will always be hungry, no matter how much they eat, and will eventually die from starvation

ok why the irish famine? myonmyon and a few other theorists on twitter have speculated on skully possibly being inspired by (or maybe even being the twst equivalent of) the irish immigrants who moved to america, and from there, the tradition of halloween spread, resulting in the modern halloween that we know of today. it makes sense too given skully's character of spreading halloween to his fellow peers, who don't know what halloween is

oh but i don't mean to end this post here, no not yet. because there's a really interesting thread that i also found by Y_wwwsomething about how skully even got his viewpoint of halloween. i do like this thread because they kinda argue against skully's halloween being based on samhain, which a lot of people initially thought that that was his halloween. but samhain, even if it does have its scary side, is still a festival with feasting and noise, still very unlike skully's halloween. if anything, they suggested that the briar valley halloween is much closer to samhain.

my personal conclusion was that skully's halloween is based on all hallow's eve, and he's from a catholic family who celebrates halloween in a solemn manner. however, this thread is suggesting that skully idolizes the victorian british gentlemen and consequently the victorian halloween

let's look into the victorian halloween first. we note that the victorian halloween that was celebrated was often done by the upper class. several online sources will tell you that their halloween parties is, funnily enough, purposed for matchmaking. many halloween games involved girls looking into their futures, whether it's eating apples at midnight while looking at the mirror or looking at whatever object is in their apple or cake to see if they'll marry or die alone. halloween for them is less focused on fright and more on lover's passion.

however! their halloween parties are also dramatic in that they turn off the lights and only leave candles on, and when they greet guests, it's either by putting their own hand on the guest's shoulder or a glove filled with sawdust.

so we could have a situation here where skully, just like jack with christmas, may have observed one (1) party and misunderstood the victorian halloween, taking from it only the scary aspect and mixing it with any prior beliefs he may have had. it doesn't yet explain why he spent halloween alone, and tbh the catholic halloween celebration alone is already a near exact match of skully's definition of halloween, so im not very on board with this. could be that they are also loose enough to be festive? but im not sure

but im very interested about skully's possible reverence for the british gentlemen, which inspired his love for jack skellington! in the victorian era, they were defined by their birth (so if they were born to aristocratic parents), but men could also make themselves into gentlemen by growing their wealth and influence. some men have occupations that are respected enough to call them gentlemen (i.e. army members, members of the parliament). eventually the definition of a gentleman is one who received education from certain elite universities, but this is towards the end of the victorian era, so when trying to become a gentleman back then, it was much harder. so of course men tried to climb to become gentlemen. charles dickens actually wished to be recognized as a gentleman and so he wrote about it in great expectations.

and this is what interests me: during the irish famine, it's noted that british rule still stood on ireland, and if anything, the british elite even worsened the irish famine as they controlled trade between them. irish goods were exported out to britain and other countries while the people had nearly nothing, which either killed them off or pushed them to migrate. interestingly, british penal laws had it that irish catholics especially were suppressed—among their laws included that their land and home were confiscated by the british parliamentary officials in ireland

so what am i trying to get at here? it's that there's probably a nonzero chance that skully looked up to the gentlemen of britain... or if we're thinking in twst terms, the gentlemen of the queendom of roses. and this may be influenced by whatever was going on in his hometown, whether it's something akin to the irish famine and colonization or something else. a desire to be free? a desire to be more than what he is right now? it would very much be similar to sally and jack: sally, in how she wanted to be free from dr. finkelstein's controlling parenting, and jack in how he wanted to not just be the pumpkin king and tried to take over christmas. it also sort of mirrors leona's and jamil's desires for themselves too, how they want to be free to do the things they want to do and make an impact around them

what's even yummier is considering that if skully is a fae, or at least a nonhuman creature that has a distinctive ear shape, then he might take shame in his fae nature as he may perceive that the ideal gentleman is a human, which is similar to how sebek takes shame in his human nature. hence, his ears would be covered by his hair in order to hide this and mingle among the gentlemen.

anyway. idk how i went from "skully is a fae" to "skully is probably an irish catholic suppressed by the british colonial rule and wants to social climb hence he looks up to the ideal british gentleman, sees jack skellington in that image, and aims to be like that so that he can make something out of himself" but we ball ig

anyway, im cooked for tomorrow, im not ready yall :(

[lost-romantique]

If Blitzø can learn to hate himself a little less...

If he could learn to open up and depend on others a little more...

If he could learn that he doesn't make everyone's lives worse...

If he could learn to be a little bit more vulnerable...

If he could learn to accept love from others...

He would be the biggest cinnamon roll.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🤹‍♂️🔞, pretty pleeeaasee ?

Collared But Untethered - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, slowburn, slight exhibition (Belle Reve), touch-starved induced desperation, making out, sudden smut, handjobs.

Wordcount: 2970

Summary: Even with every personnel in Belle Reve questioning why you wanted him, you kept coming back for more so long as they kept letting you touch him just out of sight.

Notes: Even when I try to drabble I still can't resist the buildup cause I love him so much oop- This is the first request I've ever gotten/filled so here we gooooo :'D I hope you like it, thank you so much for sending something in 💗💗💗

You were 100% certain that everyone had caught on by now to what you two were doing, but it was hard to care when orange fabric was bunched under your hands and the sound of his poorly quieted voice was in your ear. Belle Reve was well known for its lack of care towards its residents, so at first you’d both assumed that someone would barge in at any second to tear you apart, ban you from ever returning, but you were going on your fifth visit now with no one disturbing you, so even if you weren’t as perceptive as you’d thought and they were watching on a camera you’d missed no one made it known.

You’d first seen him on TV, shakycam footage barely capturing him as he and the other prisoners briefly designated as ‘Heroes’ made quick work of the current bigger threat destroying the city, and the way his powers had lit up the area in a rainbow of colours had instantly drawn you in, made you forget all about the danger as you hid in your apartment and waited in terror for it to be over, trembling hands clasped together in front of your heaving chest as you prayed you’d be safe. He’d destroyed that threat singlehandedly the second he was sure no one else was in his way, the others chiding him in the footage as he’d closed up on himself and apologized, having forgotten their goal of taking the villain alive so he could join them in their home. 

He was so unlike anyone you’d ever seen before, a timebomb of danger wrapped up in a polka-dotted bow, hands fidgeting and head downturned nervously while the destruction of what he could do showed all along the street up to where gory remains decorated the open main road.

As the reporter took over the submitted shakycam with her own live footage, people circled the villains to thank them, albeit keeping their distance even as they reached out to shake hands, pat backs, give gifts that would definitely be confiscated as soon as they returned. No one thanked him for killing their target, everyone too afraid of the gauntlets holding back bright lights and coloured dots, worried that he’d turn them on the crowd next even as the infamous Harley Quinn herself showed off the gun she’d stolen from one of the fallen policemen to a couple kids who’d wandered up to praise her without their parents’ permission.

That wasn’t fair at all, he’d needed some thanks too.

So you’d left your apartment and hurried down to them, the fight just a couple blocks away, the still burning circles in the buildings and pavement growing in number the further you got. They were already starting to get into the armoured vehicle that brought them there by the time you’d arrived, and you didn’t know his name so you could only call past the gathered guards making sure they didn’t run before he disappeared out of sight. He turned to face you, one of his teammates elbowing him to go when it became obvious that you were there for him; he walked back down the lowered ramp to approach, looking apprehensive that you’d want to talk to him when the others were right there, so you’d extended your hand to shake his, prove that you weren’t afraid but rather thankful for his help as you reached as far as you could between the two guards keeping you at a distance for your own safety.

The moment his hand touched your own you knew that you could never let him get away again.

Visitors to Belle Reve were always heavily inspected and supervised, no one ever allowed to meet face to face for fear of what could happen to either party as well as those around them, and they made that explicitly clear to you as you passed their inspections and were ushered down the hallway to the partitioned phones. The moment you told them that you were there for the Polka-Dot Man so they knew who to get they’d hesitated, turned halfway down the hallway to look at you like you were crazy, some weird thing to be studied for wanting to see him of all people. You’d just simply shrugged and told them you wanted to thank him for the other day.

He’d never had a visitor in all his time being there, and the moment he’d seen you holding the phone opposite of his own he’d gone red in the face, a mix of embarrassment for the continued support and obvious confusion as to why you’d sought him out a second time. It was cute, and while the conversation had been short, his voice low and answers coming out in single worded sentences as he thought about what to say, it still brought butterflies to your stomach until your time was up, your final question asking for his name before you were forced to hang up.

‘Abner…’ he’d told you, like he hadn’t said it in a long time. ‘Abner Krill.’

The second time you visited you asked for permission to talk to him face to face, as his voice barely carried over the phone and he had a tendency to forget he was holding it as he talked to the desk. Request denied, but they’d think about it for the right price, it wasn’t like he was going to escape his birdcage when it kept him safe from himself, the shiny collar around his neck stopping the kaleidoscope from painting the walls in cinders. That conversation had come easier, the guards getting bored and pulling out their phones as you talked about everything and nothing at all, his words flowing a little more freely.

The third time you’d gotten your request with the handing over of a few steep bills slid under the table, Abner looking around at the room before seeing you and smiling. There was a little more space between you compared to the phones but the wall was gone, and you almost missed his questions about your life as you watched his mouth speak, hands rubbing and fidgeting on top of cold metal in his persistent nervousness. The moment you’d started talking about yourself the guard watching over you had sighed loudly in annoyance and walked out, leaving the two of you alone to both of your surprise, the camera whirring in the corner telling you that they were still watching from afar at least.

You shook his hand again when time was up, and he trembled a little less as he stood before you, your bodies dangerously close for a quick moment before the guard rushed in to put a little space between you with an utterly confounded look shot in your direction.

The fourth time you looked around to see if there were more cameras than just the one over your shoulder before he was brought in, his eyes instantly brightening in your presence as they’d recently started to do. He looked more alive, his face less sunken like he was taking better care of himself so you wouldn’t worry, and you longed to hold him as the table became a deep crevasse between you. He wasn’t chained to it this time, they didn’t care enough and he knew better, he was well trained by now, and the moment you were left alone again you’d moved your chair to the empty space on the side, a little closer but not touching, testing the waters as you shot a glance to the camera to see if this was okay.

Nothing happened. No one came. Hands rested in sight as they reached but never touched, the crevasse a little smaller as the space between turned from feet to inches, then centimeters.

When your pinkies linked together it was like a bridge formed instantly, the two of you meeting in the middle as he closed his eyes and just breathed, completely calm as his free hand ran over his arm to make sure the gauntlets were gone, make sure he wouldn’t hurt you. He was touch-starved, that much was apparent as long fingers crawled over your own to create more points of contact, Abner fully holding your hand and forgetting that you were supposed to be talking. Your heart raced as you wanted more, wanted to see what other reactions you could pull from him if just this was enough to make him lean towards you, eager to invade your personal space, or perhaps invite you to invade his.

It was a space he guarded dearly, you’d learned as much over your visits as he told you about how the other inmates treated him, your touch so gentle compared to their punches, both of your chairs sliding over the floor as you closed the gap even more. Still no one came, your eyes going to the door to make sure they weren’t watching you through the wire-meshed glass to see what would happen next but the space on the other side was empty, the camera blinking red high above you as your legs made contact, a buzz of electricity shooting up your spine.

He tried to pull away, surprised by his own brazenness, or maybe it’d been an accident since he was so much taller than you, but you refused to let him, your leg pressed into the cold table leg almost painfully as you pulled him right back. The knowledge that you wanted him close, wanted to touch him even though he could burn right through you in an instant without the collar controlling him, made his chest start to heave then, eyes searching your face for fear but finding none.

Your hand unlinked from his before sliding up his arm, feeling the way he shivered as you reached his elbow, his bicep, muscles tensing under loose fabric just out of sight, a sigh leaving his lips as your fingers carefully trailed over his collar up to his cheek. He leaned into you, slowly at first, like you might change your mind and pull away at any second, his eyes closed tight as chair legs scraped over the ground. The gap closed more and more as you stood, leaned in close enough to see the scars of his time in this place, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he let out shaky breaths, how long his lashes were as they fluttered in anticipation of what you were going to do next.

The door opened before you could make that final leap, the men who rushed in looking just as confused to your actions instead of angry, and while they weren’t rough with you they did tease him all the way down the hallway as he tried to hide the fact that he’d wanted you in those last seconds, your face flushing as pure longing rushed right to your gut at the sight of something hidden behind shaking hands as he was led to the showers to cool off.

The fifth time you’d come in you’d stared down everyone you passed as they whispered and nodded in your direction, not caring as you headed for your visiting room, no one stopping you even as they shook their heads and questioned your life choices. They still let you wait by yourself, your heart pounding as he was brought in and the door was closed behind him, the guard locking it muttering to himself about how he didn’t get paid enough for this. Abner didn’t even get a chance to sit down as you stood up and grabbed onto his shirt, pulled him down to continue what you’d started with a chaste kiss, testing the waters as he let out a surprised noise against your mouth before it turned into a moan, his hands hovering over you as he tried to decide what to do.

‘Touch me,’ you told him as you parted for a breath, the end of the collar pressing into your own throat as he groaned and kissed you back, dry lips parting to let you in as you ran your tongue experimentally over his bottom one. His hands wandered all over you, touching whatever he could now that he knew you wanted him to, his back hitting the wall and the collar scraping against the brick as he arched against you wantonly. It was like the floodgates had been opened, touch-starved desperation making him want more before you were separated again, your body ready to follow his every command should he ask, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good before he was forced to go back to his solitude. 

You palmed him over his pants and he keened needily, hips moving to feel you more before he stopped himself with a choked whine, he was asking too much too soon, surely you couldn’t want him that badly, surely now would be the time you’d come to your senses and see him like everyone else did. You nipped at his bottom lip, got him to look at you before you glanced up at the camera; it was facing the table, the two of you probably just in frame, so you led him to the corner directly underneath it, in its blindspot as you played with the hem of his pants.

‘Do you want this?’ you whispered, voice low so anyone outside wouldn’t hear, Abner’s eyes shut tight again as he nodded his head, slowly at first and then a little quicker as you made contact against his bare stomach. He was breathing so heavily, the growing tent just under where your hand rested making you lick your lips; they were bound to stop you before it got too heated but you could at least give him this, all your fantasies from the past month coming to life as you felt hot skin under your fingertips.

He sighed and let his head fall back, hands gripping you like a vice as you touched him, and you couldn’t help but wonder when the last time anyone else had touched him like this had been, if anyone ever had; it made you a bit jealous to think about the former, of someone else making him look this way before you, so you couldn’t help but selfishly wish you were the first as you wrapped your hand around him. His knees shook, he wasn’t used to it, your name falling from his lips as he started to buck desperately into your hand. 

He was beautiful as his jaw went slack, so open with what he wanted as he held you close, your own pleasure building just from watching him come so easily undone like it was the strongest aphrodisiac. His quiet voice came in handy as he moaned out his desires, how good it felt, how he needed more, pleas to not stop sending shockwaves all the way down to your toes as the words started to cut off the closer he got. You felt your throat tighten as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, needing to taste him again as you swallowed and leaned up to capture him in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing over your own and refusing to let you get away in such a lewd way that it made your head spin.

He didn’t last long between your kisses and your hand attacking him at the same time, his hips jutting with a broken cry of pleasure into your open mouth as he came into your fist, palm gathering as much as you could for his sake. You didn’t realize you were panting as well with how turned on you were as his expression softened into one of pure bliss, a need filling your gut and making you burn with desire unlike anything you’d ever felt before as you wanted more. You pulled your hand free, mouth watering as you felt the sticky substance leak through your fingers, Abner just staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you raised your hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to taste when the door suddenly opened, two guards rushing in.

‘Alright, that’s enough of that,’ one of them said, your fist held by your side as you were pushed out of the way, Abner letting out an actual whine at not being able to return the favour before he was dragged out the door. Once he was out of sight you were led to the nearest bathroom, the guard not fooled at all by your attempted nonchalance and letting you wash up, your hand shaking as you still felt his heat against your wet skin. You wouldn’t do anything about your own situation until you were home, the guard just shaking his head as you rejoined him and followed him to the front doors, the detour allowing you a glimpse of Abner as he walked down a connecting hallway.

Despite the cuffs around his hands and the collar around his neck he looked relaxed, free, not even reacting as one of the inmates passing by tried to insult him, sharp canines biting his lip as he just stared the men down. You grinned, proud of him as you walked out of sight of him again, the highly protected doors leading to the outside world coming into view moments later. You didn’t leave right away, turning to talk over your shoulder as your escort waited impatiently for you to go, a gleam in your eye as you stared into his mask.

‘I’ll be back again next week,’ you promised, everything that came with that unsaid but understood, and he sighed before giving you a shove, everyone around you already whispering about the day’s visit as you just grinned and walked out into the warm Louisiana sun.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

wow guys i cannot believe kubosai is canon and kuboyasu confessed to him with a love letter in chapter 128 according to the saiki k fandom wiki!! (lying)

[dancingafterdark]

snippet from a draft of a new wip

@hiemaldesirae i blame u :D

[lieutenant-mitch]

I was supposed to draw up a little sketch on my notes app so I could draw the actual thing properly but like. idk what happened

Just have a notes app doodle I guess. Also listen to carnival by the cardigans it's great

[tequiilasunriise]

Annabel Lee & Fears: A Short Essay Based On Ep70

Here it is, folks, the truest crux of Annabel’s character, her deepest fears is not going mad or even people discovering she’s not as put together as she tries to appear, but rather:

Was that gambit of constant scheming and using others worth it, Annabel? Was always trying to think ten steps ahead and always keep yourself in a position of power and control truly worth it, because how can you ever be trusted when all you do is play 5D chess with everyone?

There is is, folks!!! Just like her greatest strength- her cunning willpower- is centered around a certain bright moon, Annabel’s greatest fear is rooted in Lenore. The deepest, darkest trenches of her soul, the one thing that would shatter her heart and send her lungs choking fer breath? The killing blow that would end her and make all these charades worthless? It’s Lenore seeing her constant conniving and asking Annabel, “Why would I be any different? You already have no problem using everyone else as a pawn, how could I ever possibly trust you, Annabel Lee?”

The way Annabel is SUCH a great morally grey character, y’all tell me you love hot villains yet many a time I’ve seen people calling Annabel too heartless. She’s the opposite! She cares!! SO MUCH!!! She would burn the world down if it meant kissing Lenore one last time, to the point where her deepest fear is losing Lenore in the process of trying to protect her. All Annabel knows is using manipulation to gain the upper hand because simply being born a woman in the Victorian era she was so throughly disadvantaged by such a horribly misogynistic society that girlypop had to scrape together any form of control she could. Annabel wants so badly to protect Lenore but all she knows are her own methods of protecting herself, which involves plausibility deniability and facades and sometimes sheer cruelty, and that’s where the conflict arises. From the start Annabel assumed Lenore and her had the same understanding of this ‘fake enemies’ ploy going on but surprise surprise babygirl, not everyone is overthinking four parallel universes ahead like you do. This boils over into her lover having doubts on what’s real and what’s not, which then culminates into Lenore asking if Annabel is using her affections as empty currency to get what she wants, and Annabel’s first move to tell Lenore to fucken kill her????

“To you alone, I have left myself completely defenseless.”

The drama of it all!! The shattered facade leading to exploding vulnerability of it all!! The dim sun sparking out into a heat death just to prove her sincerity of it all!!! The exposed innermost organs ripping out my heart with my bare hands and begging you, “Do you see it now? Do you see the way it beats for you and only you? Tell me you see it, tell me you see me…” of it all!!

Oh baby the way Annabel still retains this deep fear of Lenore not truly believing in the “only thing that’s real” to her, the way her lover’s ghost still lingers and haunts her and is then ripped up from her innermost psyche like a desecrated grave and given form by Ada’s power. The way, after all this time- and I mean all this time from Lenore’s constructed resurrection, to their relationship blossoming into a wedding, all the fucking way up to that bell tower scene, the fucken way Annabel still never truly let go of her fear that Lenore doesn’t see her, doesn’t see how she alone bashed through all of Annabel’s walls and made a home where her heart laid. I’m sure during their living relationship all the way until the wedding Annabel’s fears were greatly settled, but it’s the fucken way these panels implied that this wretched heartache never completely left Annabel’s guilt-wracked soul.

I just know, okay I just KNOW, that even up until she was putting her wedding dress on Annabel still questioned if she even deserved this happy ending because she still feel phantoms of guilt fer this betrayal. This comic only furthers this implication of unabsolved guilt when it’s made clear as day that Annabel’s biggest fear is Lenore not believing in her love. And before anyone argues how Annabel can currently feel guilt fer betraying Lenore when she hasn’t recovered the memory yet, I’ll argue back that from the very beginning of the comic these two were inexplicably drawn to each other even when they had NO memories. Therefore, even if she doesn’t have the explicit memory, I highly doubt Annabel’s subconscious would ever let go of something as huge as deeply hurting the one person she truly cared about in such a wretched way.

Fuck, dude, I mean Annabel’s greatest fear wasn’t even Lenore dying- which was already a huge thing if y’all remember her tearstreaked, panicked, “What is left? If she’s not here, what’s the point?”- no her greatest is Lenore!!! Not!!! Believing!! Her!!! Like yeah losing Lenore physically definitely would’ve cut so deep even her bones would bear the scars, but losing Lenore in the form of the other woman walking the same ground as her but choosing to stay away?? Call her fucking selfish because some people would rather have their other half still be alive even if they’re not by their side, but Annabel ain’t one of them that’s fer sure. Babygirl has spent a lifetime perfecting the craft of deceiving others fer her own gain, but the ONE TIME she’s genuine her heart is to be called nothing more but empty??? Oh babbyyy that’s gotta fucken hurt.

The thing is, I don’t think Annabel really loves herself all that much. I really don’t. A huge focus on self-preservation doesn’t necessarily mean one really loves themselves, and when we add the aforementioned guilt she carries? Plus, the fact that Annabel being forced to swallow down her anxiety attacks from a young age could easily lead to her having a rather sour view of her 'not normal' self? Yeah no yeah, I truly don’t think Annabel loves herself that much, if at all. So really, this line is adding immense insult to already grievous injury. Not only does Annabel deeply fear Lenore not believing her affections to be true, she also fears the New Yorker misconstruing her as nothing more but a shallow as hell, prissy, little pampered damsel, a role pretty much everyone else regulates her into whether she wants it or not (right from the beginning, before she even set her schemes in full effect, Annabel was already explaining, “Ada wanted a queen, so I gave her one”). Lenore, the only one Annabel had believed to ever really see her fer her, is now discrediting Annabel’s vulnerable affections AND seeing her as that unloving ice queen like everyone else?? Horrible terrible horrible!!! She may have a ribbon threatening to strangle her right now, but it’s clear that ghost!Lenore’s words are what truly cut her down to size. Y’all seeing that fucken pain in Annabel’s eyes? Her worst fear is just so… personal.

Which actually leads me to my next point, which is how just before Annabel’s worst fear is revealed in stark, horrifying detail, we see Prospero’s. Lemme just preface this by saying what Prospero went through is n o t any less terrible and is a super fucken mega valid fear/trauma, but let me cook y’all just hear me out. Prospero’s fear seems to be about medical malpractice and/or being conscious during a painful operation that likely went south (aka ‘oh shiiitttt he fucken DEAD-‘), and that’s fucking tragic as all hell. Yet, okay let me cook here, it’s more… I don’t want to say general, because that does NOT mean his fear is any less significant but it’s like. Way back when, death via medical bullshit was more or less fairly common, especially during wartimes (which is the era I headcanon Prospero to be from); meanwhile, Annabel’s fear is so uniquely hers, it’s borne of a culmination of specific experiences tied together by her relationship with Lenore.

By contrast of a more common fear vs something so deeply personal and specific to this one person- because it’s not just unrequited love, it’s being so vehemently denied and misunderstood by the ONE (1!) person who you wholeheartedly trusted in your entire life who also oops mega died on you- this distinction gives way to an almost more raw, more visceral feeling to Annabel’s fear sequence. Again!!! I am not undermining Prospero’s own trauma, I promise!!! But you have to admit that there’s something, from a narrative standpoint, that hits so much harder with how deeply personal Annabel’s fear is. The contrast is even more great when you look at how Prospero’s involved a buncha bloodied hands not really tied to any faces or even any indication of personhood like accessories, scars, etc etc. It could’ve been a group of anyone holding him down hurting him; on the flipside, Annabel is being restrained by one very specific person we see in full view. The faceless crowd who could’ve been anyone at anytime vs the lone perpetrator whose history you know like a second name. It’s just!!! So personal!!!

In conclusion, on the surface level, one would think a character so deeply ingrained in using deceptions and manipulation would have her greatest fear tie into having her true nature revealed to everyone she’d fooled, but then it turns out it’s the complete fucking opposite. What homegirl fears the most is her truest, innermost self not being believed and accepted by just one (1!) person. The way it’s framed is just so heartstabbingly personal, especially when you parallel it to a previous fear sequence just a few panels preceding it. This is it, your honor, this is Annabel’s deepest driving force broken down to its bare essentials. To hell with whatever reputation she’s carefully crafted! Who cares what anyone else thinks of her if she doesn’t believe her, if she doesn’t SEE her. Really, truly see her. Lenore is the defining point that Annabel has revolves around so wholeheartedly, and there’s no point to anything anymore if Annabel loses her. This crux of her character, OHHH BBAAABBYY it’s just so well done because we, as the audience, have been given clear evidence to build up this narrative of Annabel’s characterization fer so long now and to finally see it come together in a fiery explosion of lesbian angst with this latest chapter??? Gods, the writing of Nevermore will never not drive me absolutely insane in the membrane.

[cookmybrainwhatamisupposedtodo]

I'm just an arrogant idiot I fell in love with an angel How can I cope with that? Thinkin' about you's just too painful Can't live without you Just want you back Move on without you? I'm on my knees I'm just a reckless fool Falling for someone like you Moving worlds for someone like you Knowing I'll never hear you say it Can't catch me, can't keep me Go ahead, watch me leave Just try and stop me Please try and stop me I'm just a stuck-up moron Too proud to be confused I was raised on self-hatred This ain't nothing new How do you see through all my lies? How do you love me anyways? This can't happen, not like this But I've never wanted it so bad I'm just a defiant fugitive Free will so I can chose to chose you Letting myself lose to lose you When you pray just to hear me To tell you that you're worth saving Caring for the world for you It was all for you It was always for you We're just a soldier and a son Not sure which is which Dying silent, dying slow Lost to time and pitch Now I have you, now you're slipping away We've never had it fair If happiness is just in what we say, Why do I feel so bare? I'll see you again And we'll drive into the sunset I'll get back to you again And we'll get that happy end.

[imminent-danger-came]

MK's "I Love My Friends"/Reassurance Smile:

1x00 A Hero is Born

-

1x10 The End is Here!

-

2x00 Revenge of the Spider Queen

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3x03 Smartie Kid

-

3x13 Time to Be Warriors

-

What!? No! I didn't mean you guys to! You thought you were going without us? MK, we get it—you're the Monkie Kid, huh? It's your job to go fight the bad guys. But we're your team little man! It's our job to get you there! No matter what!

Bonus (His Unassured Grimace):

4x12 The Plan Man

[ihateornithologists]

I'M GETTING MESSAGES LIKE THIS A LOT

[clawsextended]

in my perfect world everyone makes so many lesbian muses the men then have to deal with the exact same behavior when every single post ever written isn’t about dick.

[greasydumbfuck]

that body of his is insane. hes so handsome. i cant live like this anymore

[crazylittlejester]

Pretty sure it was your fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53258788

OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT IS IT?? THAT LINK YOU SENT IS MY FIC, I DID WRITE THAT. I MIGHT SCREAM IF THE ANON ACTUALLY MEANT MY FIC BECAUSE THAT’S SO COOL WHAT

(here is the art being talked about)

[verrixstudios]

The overwhelming need to make an animation that looks like an edit of an actual show keeps hitting me like a train every once in a while

Like I wanna make one of those really cool edits but instead of it being of some hot person or a cool show or some chicken I wanna make it about my ocs

[kairithemang0]

Guys let’s be real here as much as I love the “Curt doesn’t shoot Owen” fics I feel like Curt realized Owen was way too far gone and that he should kill Owen because it would help the world rather then himself.

I feel like me thinking about them has 1. Ruined my perception of reality and 2. Royally fucked up my sleep schedule