#at least when it comes to annabelle

[ailoda]

late to the party, but i kind of assumed (though cautiously hoped otherwise) that sebastian would lose because *cough* politics, despite the sheer perfection that was his performance.

but i assumed that he’d lose to someone who, i don’t know, ACTUALLY DESERVED IT. literally any. other. person in that category deserved to win (ralph fiennes was my pick, his range…unmatched), but to lose to a guy who couldn’t even perfect a hungarian accent???

[lord-rain-master]

annabelle comes home is such a sweet name for a horror movie,, it's like "she's been through a lot in the last 2 movies so we've decided that she finally needs a place where she feels like she can belong, a place where she will not be judged for her actions but instead met with only understanding and patience"

and then she tries to kill every human in the house

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 14

____________________________

"She wasn't yours to send on that quest, does her mother even know about this!? You can't just send kids on missions without MY permission! They're in my supervision, they're MY kids!" Mr D Yells at Hermes

He was expecting that supreme lord of the bathroom to go because of that damned hero complex and that Blondie likes adventures, but you? He thought you'd stay put, Mr D made it very clear that once you step outside the border, everything will kill you, so why would you go there?

And truth be told, you don't know why you went either, you were skilled yes. But this is your first quest oh right. This quest is undocumented and you three could die

Mr D was fine when they were just names.

Long ago when he was one of the gods above, just watching and listening to what happened, he would send his children on missions, some would succeed some won't

Some would die.

But it was fine.

He grieved for a while, he could drown is sorrows into wine, he could numb himself, but then the punishment came

100 years at camp half-blood.

He thought it'd be fine, a hundred years would pass like a blur

But it didn't.

Because now, he wouldn't just hear about the heroes who lived and died, he couldn't ignore them now. They were right in front of him, They were in his care!

At first he tried to ignore them, then he made the mistake of accidentally stumbling upon one of their camp nights, the children would tell their grievances through song, they laughed and danced, they didn't act like heroes that night, it was very disgraceful...

They acted like children.

There he made a mental note.

No more dead kids.

The morning after that he waltzed into the training grounds and looked after the children himself, he taught them how to fight, how to trick, and lastly he joined their camp nights on the head of the circle

It worked for a while, after every quest, his kids would come back, then the monsters started multiplying, the mist got so strong it even confused the demigods until it was too late and the monster got to them

A few more quests here and there, his kids stopped returning.

Five children would leave on a mission, two would come back.

And he didn't have alcohol to drown himself in, he had to face that they're gone sober.

So he had a new tactic

Just hate the bastards.

He had so many reasons to hate them, they were needy, weak and fragile, they were constantly immature needing guidance, he left the parenting work on Chiron

Then the quests stopped, one kid. Luke. Messed up so badly that quests stopped coming, the gods were too horrified and they didn't want their children to go on the same path as Lark did, Duke went blind on one eye.

And not dying while fighting an enemy was considered to be humiliating. It meant that the enemy went easy on you, and thought you weren't even worth the trouble killing

Can't they just be glad their kid isn't dead?

It was going well...

No quests equal No dead kids

Then Peter Johnson came along, started the quests again, fuck that kid, so what if he didn't even know about his origins as a hero? So what if he just wanted to see his mother? So what if he was being used as a pawn to start a war and he just wanted to live a normal life?

Percy Jackson was the brother of the man who abandoned his wife in a remote island

He hated Michael Jackson

Last but not the least you.

He hated you.

How could you!?

He walked you through everything! He even let Athena influence you by letting her bring the books on monsters so you'd be too scared to go out

But you just had to help Annabelle and Peter huh?

(Name)...

Fuck this.

You were going to be like one of them. A corpse, there's no point in remembering your name

(Wrong Name)... He was going to call you that from now on

Mr D would sometimes reminisce back on the times where he wouldn't care, back when the children were just names, now he knew they had a life, had dreams, had-

He should stop

He wants to drown his sorrows

He would like to be Dionysius again.

______________________________

Dionysius: oh the demigods? Not my problem!

Mr D: my babies death are inevitable so I have to act like I don't care enough to the point I don't remember their name so when they eventually pass away I wouldn't be hurt

_____________________________

@princesscosmo @kiarst @awawage @proffesorbunny @yuyuzi-ling @twentysomethingwereyote @scarletdfox @colorfulgardenerduck @kagatinkita @ryuushou @gwyneveire @nervousalpacalady @obsessedwithfanfiction @dsaar2000 @ithoughtthinks @fortunatelydifferentqueen @the-dumber-scaramouche @time-shardz @crazycaoticsimp @yunloyal @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @spqce-bun @casspen-starlight @eyeless-kun @ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar @sheep-from-rad

[shouts-into-the-void]

Montresor caring about Will didn't come out of nowhere, Lenore was just mad: a biased completely unbiased post

The thing we need to remember as a rule is that Montresor's default personality is rude and antagonistic even when he's not actively trying to be an aggressor, which means you have to look at what he means rather than necessarily the things he says. He's a clear victim of abuse, who reacts to feelings trapped, cornered, threatened, panicked, or humiliated by lashing out. From what I have gathered, it seems like his mother may have been the type of person who was nice one minute, then became abusive at the drop of a hat, and/or acted loving while claiming she "had to do this for his own good", and he was clearly raised in a very strict religious environment where he didnt have a lot of control/was punished for things he couldnt help. As a reaction, Montresor tries to force an aggressive response out of anyone he feels threatened by, because at least then it's predictable and he feels in control. Okay, great, Montresor analysis out of the way, moving on.

Our first real look at Will and Montresor as a unit is when the clusterfucks (side note: I've seen a lot of people calling them the acoleets now? Far less funny, absolutely not) are discussing their spectres. During this conversation, Montresor is actually hyping Will up, and even when he agrees with Ada that is sounds useless, he makes sure to assure him that it "looks really cool though."

We only really see Montresor become outright violent and dangerous once it's revealed that only one person can win a new life. We see him actively panic about it, and while we don't really get a lot more context for him yelling at Will in the moment, I think its relevant that this is the moment when he starts treating Will less nicely, because now it's a competition and everyone else is potentially out to get him. Hell, he even immediately begins joking around with Will after telling him to shut up, so it's clear that he's acting out of stress and fear immediately after the revelation.

The interaction that immediately follows this is the incident with Morella and Ada, and I find it notable that Montresor goes out of his way to include Will. (when he makes sure to let you get your turn humiliating a woman to prove her loyalty to the group #romantic 🤡)

Later, during the Spectre vs. Students lesson, when Berenice bites Will and he asks for help, Montresor immediately tells her to leave him alone. While he seems mildly annoyed with Will the whole time (kind of understandably, because Will keeps screwing up the plan) he only says anything particularly horrible after Berenice slashes him across the face with her knife, which clearly pisses him off in general. We see him letting Will nap on his shoulder afterwards, which isn't super important I just think it's cute.

Montresor clearly sees them as a unit, as he still involved Will with the plan despite Will messing up the previous night with Duke and stops Will from helping Annabel with Ada despite not having a real reason to do so by saying "We'll sit this one out." Like it should have gone without saying that if he's not doing it, Will isn't either. Then the next day, the fact that Montresor comes to get Will specifically so they can walk to breakfast together? Knows what his toothbrush looks like and goes out of his way to give it back? The little flick on the forehead when he calls him a churchmouse? That he picks up on Will's distress and immediately goes to collect Ada to save him? I see you, fake-ass idgafer.

Which brings me to my next point, which is that it is Lenore on her enraged, vengeful tirade who claims that Montresor hates Will. She claims it's due to his behavior towards Will when he came to get him, but I think its pretty clear she only says it to upset Will. And Will can't think of anything nice Montresor's ever done for him because he's stressed, thinks he's about to get shot, and his self-confidence is super low. He even addresses the fact later that Montresor goes out of his way to save him all the time.

I also think now is a good time to point out that Montresor only seems to physically hurt Will in any significant way when he's been having a flashback. His expression when he comes out of his death flashback to find himself attacking Will is shocked, and while he doesn't apologize, his response does come across as apologetic. He has a similar expression when he wakes up from Ada's vision choking Will, only he looks incredibly panicked that time because he'd done actual damage. The expression on his face when Lenore points out what he's done is pained. I think this runs back to Montresor telling Will not to touch him, I'm pretty sure part of his trauma revolves around physical touch and when he's having an episode of PTSD/not fully aware of his surroundings he lashes out instinctively at the person touching him, which unfortunately means Will, who is a very physically affectionate person (man has 13 siblings and it shows.) Which is unfortunate, because I think Montresor also seems to be a very tactile person, and he actually goes out of his way to be touching Will a lot.

Another interesting thing? Montresor only ever addresses Will by name, which is very significant with context. The nicknames Montresor gives people are meant to mock them, so by only using Will's name it subtlely signals that he holds him in higher respect (or at least in more genuine regard) than the others. In Will's flashback, Sally–someone who went to school with him and was in all the same classes–doesn't remember his name, only that he's one of many Wilson siblings. So for Montresor, who can't even remember his "ace in the hole" and current fling's name, to be constantly making it a point to say he knows who Will is, is a great indicator of his actual feelings. By contrast, Will calls Montresor "Monty" exclusively, the only nickname he receives that is genuinely affectionate and something he never attempts to make him stop calling him.

Which pretty much brings us back to the events of the current episodes, which I've already talked about the significance of in another post. I know this is probably insanely biased for multiple reasons and im sure theres a bunch of little tidbits I've forgotten , but do with it what you will.

[foodiegoogie]

no one else, only you

lily evans x fem!reader | 2.75k

summary: you're a hundred percent gay for your best friend, lily evans. but you're also living in the 1980's—in conservative london, england, no less. where could pride fit in that? cw/tags: angst w/ fluff undertones, coming out scene, internalized homophobia, freddie mercury reference (may he rip 🤍) if i missed anything else, plz let me know! tnx <3 note: this one's for all my lesbian/gaylicious/bisexy/closeted girlies out there <3 you are so loved and seen by people like me. happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈

based off of annabelle by annika bennett ₊˚⊹♡

It’s a wonder, isn’t it? How one person could share their life with another person for as long as they both live—or, at least, ‘til death do they part, anyway.

You’d argue that it wouldn’t be a wonder to think about that, no. You’d tell people with that mindset to get their heads out of the clouds, and face the facts: ‘til death do you part, so what’s the point? In a society with so many rules, standards, and reputations to uphold, how does one even come to life-altering decisions such as marriage? It feels… impossible.

Impossible, well—for you, it would seem. For others, like most of your friends, it’s annoyingly possible. James Potter is a rake, if the line of girls appearing in his flat on a nightly basis is to tell that. Sirius Black could get away with being straight with his looks, but you know him better than that. Remus Lupin is… private, but not secretive when it comes to your friend group. And Peter Pettigrew… Well, bless his soul, the boy tries his best. 

Lily Evans, though? You couldn’t quite pinpoint what her deal is; and that’s saying a lot, considering how close the two of you are. 

So, what exactly is her deal… with you?

Especially now, while you and Lily are sharing a bottle of wine in the warm ambience of her kitchen. You came over with this elaborate plan of how you could finally get over yourself and confess your feelings. But Lily—bless her heart—was so happy to see you, that things had started to take a little detour from your initial plan of action.

“—then I said, ‘No, Marls, don’t do it!’” Lily chuckles as she combs her fingers through her hair, ridding it of tangled knots. 

“But then she—” The redhead chuckles again, interrupting herself before continuing, “she actually—”

“Does it?” You finish for her with a smile, sensing familiar butterflies in your stomach whenever you’re looking at Lily.

“Yeah!” She giggles, it’s music to your ears, and nearly spills her wine as she wobbles on her feet.

You think it’s a grand opportunity, considering how she’s only had at least half of the wine in her glass. Still sober enough to be serious for an important conversation, and still tipsy enough to forget said conversation the day after.

“Anyway,” Lily starts again, sobering herself up despite the flush in her cheeks, “moving forward—”

“Hey, Lils—” 

You lunge as she nearly trips over herself while literally moving forward, catching her by the arms. You give her a squeeze to help ground herself, trying not to think about the warmth between your skinship.

As soon as Lily registers your hands gripping her steady, she frowns at them. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked.

How hypocritical of you, Evans, you thought to yourself.

“Oh, I’m quite dandy right now, actually. It’s you that’s not okay,” You tell her with gentle sarcasm in your voice. With an arm around her shoulders and a hand in the crook of her elbow, you guide her towards the living room.

Eventually, you make it to the worn brown couch that looks cozier than ever in the warm lighting of the lamp, standing in the corner. You make sure Lily makes a soft landing on the cushions, giving her a throw pillow when she barely reaches for one, before you sit right down beside her.

It’s a couch that fits four people, at most. But you’d think two people were sitting on either side of the couch while you and Lily sat tight and cozy in the middle. You can’t stop thinking about the warmth she’s radiating since you got here. 

You don’t realize you’re watching Lily with a weighted, concerned gaze until she’s smiling at you again, all amused and whimsical-looking.

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

You sigh in fond exasperation, joining her in her lax position as you lean back on the couch.

“What look, Lils?”

She frowns and forms that adorable knot between her brows. “You know—that look!”

“I can’t really know that look if I can’t see myself doing it now, can I?”

“Oh… you’re right. Sorry.” 

She sounds truly crestfallen when the word slips out of her mouth, and you feel achy about it. Heartache-y. Perhaps you should get a move on with ‘the plan.’

“S’alright, Lils. No biggie.”

But Lily’s still tipsy. You can tell that by how slowly she’s blinking, how her lips are pouted, and how she’s staring off into the distance like there’s something to be found there.

Neither of you talk after a while. The silence, though, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more than that. It feels charged. Heavy. Pregnant. 

The silence feels like it’s… waiting for itself to be broken—and Lily beats you to it.

“I really am glad you’re here, you know,” She opens up, voice a bit deeper and words a lot clearer than before. Still staring off into the distance but, nonetheless, you know she’s really starting to sober up now.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she continues.

There’s really no other way to go about it—that one’s totally your fault. What with an existential crisis about yourself, your country, your actual and romantic feelings for Lily, and so on—you had to step away from it all, if not completely, then at least for a while. 

That had completely slipped out of your mind for a long, long while.

You chuckle slightly, albeit a little sheepish. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a while either.”

Then, silence. A few seconds pass because you let them, and it feels like you should speak next. So, you start with a deep breath, “I—”

“—missed you.”

It’s barely heard, but you can’t miss it. Not when Lily’s right beside you when she says it. Her breath brushes your ear, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your breath hitches because it was exactly what you were going to say.

“I missed you,” Lily repeats herself, almost like her prior statement was just a slip of the tongue. Something that was just pure instinct, and not fully thought through. “Still miss you, actually.”

She sighs, forlorn, then shifts on her spot to face you completely like she’s about to drop something big and important. 

But you take the risk before you lose the chance to say what you’ve been meaning to say since you came over.

“I have to tell you something,” You blurt out as Lily takes a sharp breath. She blinks, then nods for you to continue. With a deep breath, you do. “I…”

How do you start coming out to your best friend?

How do you say ‘I miss you’ in a non-homosexual way to the girl you’re totally homosexual for? Just to prepare Lily for the eventual truth bomb, of course. 

You think Lily catches the gulp you take and the fidgeting you do with your fingers, because she prompts, “You what, Y/N?” in that soft, sweet voice of hers.

You don’t even know why you’re so scared. This is the Lily Evans—kind-hearted to a fault, and the personified antonym of judgmental. She’s fearless for herself, and for her friends. Most of all, you know that she loves you. That goes without saying, yes. But you’re not sure it’s in the way that your heart has always wanted since the day you met her.

“I—” You exhale, trying to get over your ridiculous thoughts. “I missed you, too.”

Lily sighs like it’s a relief that you told her that. “Was that so hard to tell me? Here I was, expecting something else to come out of your mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what, then?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t have to be specific, really. Maybe something that goes like ‘I just found out that my great gran disowned me?’”

A chuckle bubbles up unexpectedly from your throat, and Lily joins you in your amusement. The tense air disperses for a while as you share the laughter, but then you let out a small, happy sigh.

“Seriously, though. I do need to tell you something. Not just—” You shake your head, “not just ‘I miss you.’”

“Okay, er—” Lily straightens her posture, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “—go ahead. Tell me.”

“Right, so…” You take another deep breath because this is the moment: the make-or-break moment of your friendship with Lily. “...you know how there’s been rumours about Freddie Mercury going around? About his… health and—sexuality…?”

“Yeah, heard about it on the news,” The redhead replied. “What about them?”

“Well… you see…” You turn your head down, picking at your fingernails. “I’m kind of going through the same thing?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily coos, arms instantly coming round you, squeezing you tight. You return her embrace with equal, grateful measure. It was a hug you probably needed. “I’m sorry you’re going through that. I had no idea.”

You think the conversation’s getting off on a good note, so far. So, you continue, chuckling sheepishly. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy to say or go through, not exactly.

“But… that’s not all that there is, really.”

“Oh? Then what else is there to say?”

“I don’t have rumors going ‘round about me. Not like Freddie Mercury,” A weak attempt at lightening up the situation, but you coax a small smile out of Lily. “But the sexuality bit… that one’s true.”

There’s silence after that. You’re waiting and watching for Lily’s reaction. Anything that would signal you to back out of this conversation altogether or continue. But she’s just as serious as she was earlier when the topic about Freddie Mercury opened in the first place. You take it as a sign to go on.

Besides, you’ve come here with a clear objective, right? The worst that could happen was… your potential rejection, and the possibility that Lily might find you repulsive after and kick you out of her flat.

You decide to take that risk with the thought that we, human beings, only live once. If you couldn’t confess to Lily now, then when will you ever?

“The truth is, Lils, I’m saying all this because…” You give out a small huff of courage. “I like girls.”

Expecting silence to take over again, you get brave to glance at Lily, who’s now smiling at you with so much pride, it feels just slightly overwhelming.

“Y/N,” She starts, taking your hands in both of hers, thumbs sweeping over your knuckles. “I’m really glad you decided to tell me this, I—”

“I like you, too.”

Lily freezes upon hearing you say that, so you’re frozen, too. Perhaps it was because of the way she took your hands and held it in hers, so warm and welcoming. Not an ounce of roughness despite the rough texture of her hard-working hands. Not a hint of carelessness despite the gentle manner she holds your hands with.

“I meant to say—” You sigh, frustrated with yourself for being so unclear. “I like girls, and I like you, Lils. As… as more than just my best friend. So much more than that.”

It comes as a surprise to you that she’s still holding your hands despite the truth bomb you’d just dropped on her all of a sudden. But, if anything, you’re grateful that she hasn’t found you so repulsive to flinch away from you. Well, not yet at least.

“Is that…” Lily finally speaks, sounding slightly out of breath. You’re hoping it’s not because she’s about to cry and disown you as her friend. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” You answer with a reluctant smile, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry, so you rush to say, “I know that might throw you off, Lils, but it’s been true for so long that I—”

Lily thumbs away the tear slipping down your cheek—the tear you didn’t even realize was there in the first place. That action alone prompts a sob out of you. Whether that was a sob of relief, forgiveness for yourself, or fear, however—you couldn’t decide.

“It’s okay,” She whispers to you, tucking a hair strand behind your ear. Her hand lingers near your cheek. “Just breathe, yeah? Breathe, darling.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting more tears rain down on your face. Lily frees her hands to press them against your cheeks, grounding you with pressure alone. She guides you through one, two, three deep breaths, until the last exhale finally eases your nerves and rapid heartbeat. 

“M’sorry, sorry…” You sniffle, shaking your head as your hands rise to pry Lily’s off of your face, already more than grateful for her kindness, but she just presses them closer (if that was even possible).

“No, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright?” There’s more hair falling around your face, so she tucks the strands behind both your ears. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

“No, you don’t understand,” You rush to say, trying to sober up as you blink rapidly. “I’m— I’m not normal—”

“And who is, these days, anyway?” Lily stresses, “Listen to me, alright? Listen to me very carefully, because I know how stubborn you are, especially when you’re trying to get the last word in. Okay?”

“Okay,” You murmur weakly.

“The world isn’t kind to anyone, we both know that,” Her hands leave your face—your flushed cheeks contrasting against the sudden cold. But then she holds your hands tightly as she says, “But I am, and we both know that, don’t we?”

You nod your head in reply.

Lily nods back, satisfied with your response. “So, all I can tell you now is thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this, and for being honest with me. I accept—”

You’re crying again before she gets to go through with her sentence, but it doesn’t faze Lily in the slightest. In fact, she tilts your head back up with a finger, and wipes away your tears. When your sobs get quiet and shoulders stop shaking, she continues.

“I accept who you are—that never really changed since high school, Y/N. Even when I wasn’t aware of this about you. Really, I— it’s more than that, actually. I feel…” Horrified? Disgusted? Fascinated like I’m some alien or species of some kind—

“...I feel the same way about you.”

You must be so out of it already that you might have misheard Lily telling you that she feels the same way about you. Internally, you curse your mind for playing cruel tricks on your senses.

But you still feel the warmth of her hands pressed to your cheeks, the fabric of her dress brushing against your knees, the weight of this entire moment— it’s all still so present, and so vivid, they couldn’t possibly be just a figment of your imagination.

“You do?” You ask her.

Lily nods, smiling in that bedazzling way she always does. Her eyes are all watery now, too. “I do, yeah. I really, really do.”

A wet chuckle slips past your lips, and this time around, you initiate the skinship— leaning forth to press your forehead against hers, closing your eyes. 

“That’s a relief,” You whisper with a smile. “There was no one else, Lils. Just you. Only you.”

You hear Lily sigh, then, her breath brushing against your lips. The tips of your noses bump into each other. It all feels like the right moment to get rid of the space between you and finally learn how it feels like to kiss a girl— your dream girl since high school.

But neither of you closes the space nor asks for it to happen. You just sit there— enjoying each other’s company, and the relief that you both don’t feel the need to hide behind ‘just friends’ anymore.

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Montresor (and Willtresor) is the Bad Ending of the White Raven IV: the saga continues

Okay, now that these chapters have been released I can talk about this issue. I must say that this twist has been just the way I like twists: no, the surprising thing is not that it happened, but that, when you look back, it not only makes sense, it also recontextualizes some little things that stick around.

A person who is not there

There's one thing that's cross-cutting to these four idiots: they're absolutely desperate for someone to look at them. And when you think about it, it kind of makes sense: Lenore has lost the one person who seemed to even slightly care about her and locked up like an animal, Annabel is a hypocrite so terrified of being perceived as crazy that she's a breath away from collapse, Will is the kind of guy who blends in with the walls to such an extent that hardly anyone remembers his face, and Montresor has been seen as an devil since fucking birth.

However, the fine line that separates the Annabel/Will and Lenore/Montresor duo is drawn into something quite complicated: who are on the edge of the abyss and who can't fall any lower.

Both Montresor and Lenore, for different reasons, are trapped in inescapable situations: Montresor will never be anything more than a shit-talking charlatan in anyone's eyes and Lenore will die before she shakes off the label of a madwoman.

Then, they come along. These two people who have not only been able to look them in the eye, they are also people in whom they can see themselves reflected: a weak pushover who can't fend for himself and a lady who is one mental health slip away from being put in a straitjacket.

They have been that person. And their desperate cries for help have never been answered.

But this time may be different. If Lenore and Montresor can save Annabel and Will, in a way, they are also saving themselves. A 50/50 between a selfless motivation and a huge reassertion of one's own ego.

Which leads to the first difference.

Where Lenore offers Annabel a deal on equal terms, a “you and me against the world, baby”; Montresor has with Will a relationship based on subordination: it is he who must take care of Will and, thus, Will is beneath him.

What Annabel and Will understand from the arrangements of this deal are two very different things: where Annabel must live up to the extraordinary person that Lenore is in order to accompany her on equal terms, Will must make sure that he is a weak individual that Montresor can take care of and mistreat in order to feel superior when necessary.

This is not a problem for either of them because there is one little thing that Annabel and Will are able to mold as if it were plasticine: their identity.

Fragmented identities

These scenes have exactly the same purpose.

And I absolutely love them for that.

But let's take them one at a time.

Both Annabel and Will are two invisible people who at least feel like they've been saved by their favorite person. Lenore is Annabel's knight in shining armor and Montresor is the bad boy capable of moving forward despite everything that Will longs for.

They love them. And they need them.

Because Annabel is just a pretty accessory incapable of thinking outside the golden cage she's lived in all her life. And Will is incapable of thinking for himself because he doesn't want to deal with the responsibility of doing so.

So they build this perfect mask to please their special people. A carefully chiseled mask tailored to be loved based on what they believe their special person wants from them.

In both scenes, Annabel and Will have their world fall apart as they realize that the mask they have created for their loved one is not only unwanted, but viewed with disgust and contempt. So the mask slips for an instant to reveal what lies beneath only for their special people. But to very different ends and consequences.

Annabel drops her self-imposed role as unbeatable queen, begins to cry her eyes out, has a panic attack and even -to Lenore's surprise and horror- comes to doubt that she is loved. She is far from living up to the role she should have: she is scared, lonely and, from her reaction, probably doesn't even want to do this.

Of course, Lenore swoops in to comfort her because her beloved damsel in distress is in a vulnerable moment. But all it takes is for Lenore to suggest that Annabel can approach other people for the unbeatable queen to come back: even pushing her to the limit hasn't gotten her to get what's really going on out of her. And after Annabel would rather have Duke and Pluto throw her off a balcony than allow Lenore to reveal herself as a traitor to her friends, it is definite that Lenore has lost this battle: she has already exhausted all her options which have ranged from pleading, to loving words and, in this scene, to verbal violence. The unbeatable queen is in a place where she can't reach her and any future attempts will only succeed in putting the two of them in a more complicated situation.

On the other hand, Will has a small moment of vulnerability with Montresor, giving her this little speech that works as a confession: this confusion about whether he wants him or wants to be him is, as I read in some places, a fairly common situation among gay men. Before he dies, he ends up stealing Montresor a kiss.

But all this has been nothing more than to see his reaction. Because Will is not dead. Not at all.

Although he's put his feelings on the table, he doesn't seem to expect Montresor to return his affection. Just knowing that he cares seems to be enough for the moment, because he plays dumb after it all happens. But Will's made it pretty clear that he is capable of an enormous level of manipulation and that he works with a subtlety that even Annabel couldn't dream of.

Now that they've gotten a peek at what's beneath the masks, Lenore and Montresor find themselves trapped with monsters of their own creation that they are unable to comprehend: Lenore can't even fathom why Annabel continues to do this despite how much she's suffering and Montresor doesn't even know what Will's intentions really are.

Kind of deliciously ironic because didn't Lenore want her partner in crime? Didn't Montresor want his little mutt to fight a little?

Weren't they the ones who wanted to be their number one?

And, as the icing on the cake, they are alone in this, because the monsters they have created only let them get close. Everyone else in the world has been fooled by Annabel and Will's perfect masks, so if they wanted to (or even could) tell anyone about this absolutely no one would believe them.

Even if Lenore wanted to convince her friends that Annabel isn't a homicidal maniac, it's virtually impossible for them to believe her after what happened with Duke. And Montresor can't even begin to explain what Will did.

Love and control

Here I need to stir up the duos a bit.

Montresor and Annabel are not only blonde charlatans with parental problems, they have also learned to relate to the world in terms of control: they protect themselves by moving others around like pieces to get them to do what they want (at least in Nevermore, Annabel in life would not have been able to do these things as far as we know).

Where Annabel puts herself at the center of the board as a queen, Montresor is all about pissing off everyone around him because that's the only way he feels seen.

But they are not the ones with the upper hand in their relationship.

Will and Lenore have demonstrated by actions -we can't be sure in Lenore's case it's a conscious thing- that they are capable of giving all the affection, security, and loyalty if they get what they want from Montresor and Annabel.

It's hard to know what Will wants from Montresor at this point, but he seems quite content for his bad boy to remain his bad boy who has something resembling a soft side to him. In Lenore's case, this waltz between having doki dokis every time Annabel exists around her and being absolutely furious seems to be tied up in her desire to have Annabel by her side: when Annabel plays queen and walks away, pushing Lenore away from whatever is going on; she immediately becomes wary or, at worst, aggressive; but is caring and responsive when Annabel shows a vulnerable side.

This ends up generating a funny situation where the relationship between Montresor and Will is more functional than Lenore and Annabel's because there is one side subordinate to the other: Will has Montresor by the balls, but lets himself be mistreated; while Annabel refuses to put Lenore's desires above the danger they are both in (and even refuses to tell her what the fuck is going on).

Conclusions

Okay, I have to admit that I have been a bit dramatic in some parts of this essay and I have to rectify that so that you are not left with the wrong idea.

The first (and most obvious) thing is that it looks like Annabel is going to get to have honest relationships beyond Lenore. Of course, her friendship with Ada and Prospero can't really begin until the “allies till battle royale do them part” deal is dissolved and she's confronted for putting them both in a sticky situation. That yes, they signed up to be allies of the Machiavellian mastermind, but to Caesar what is Caesar's: no real friendship will form here until those bumps are crossed.

And speaking of Annabel, if there's one person who has a microscopic chance of believing Montresor the fucked up shit Will has done, it's possibly Annabel. My only argument is this:

Like, she doesn't say Will is harmless, she says isolation makes him pliable. And although she is underestimating him and not knows Will is a threat, but maybe she'd be willing to think Montresor isn't crazy if she finds out what happened.

Another point is the conclusion she ended up coming to in all these trials: the line that separates things is drawn on who has their heart in the right place and who doesn't. So, where Montresor is terrified of Will while Will holds a threat over Montresor's head, neither Lenore nor Annabel is afraid that the other might hurt them. And while we don't know what Lenore's feelings are about how she's been treating Annabel in some respects (this for the date I've uploaded this essay), if her face in this scene and the little spoiler that was uploaded to tumblr tell us one thing: It's that the answer is probably guilt. Let's see what comes out of that.

Finally, there's one not too nice thing I'd like to say about when I saw spoilers from the fast pass. Okay, I know this comic is moving at a snail's pace and that while it's been a few days for the characters, this chapter came out like fifty weeks ago. But people, with all my love: I want you to see the difference between Ada and Will's reactions in this scene. Ada is obviously uncomfortable and guilty; while Will has an “upsi” face.

And when Lenore confronts him, Will has the face to complaining that he is scared. He at no point in this confrontation shows a single shred of real remorse.

I know there are people who have been through abusive relationships who have identified with Will and I don't mean to go on to bring that up. But what these scenes raised at the time is that there is something off about this guy, something that should give you a bad feeling because his behavior doesn't fit that of a person who has been forced to do something terrible.

Another thing I've seen someone point out at the time is that Will feels different in his character presentation and has been getting more pathetic as we see him more screen time. We now know that he has been learning how to behave.

Add to that that his reaction is the only one we don't see when it's revealed that there's only a second life available and we only see it when Montresor shakes him. But he doesn't seem particularly affected beyond the chaos that's going on around him.

All these little things keep telling you that there's something wrong with Will. And what Chapter 120 does, is show you what the thing that didn't add up was: what we've been seeing so far is a mask worn by a much more twisted individual and, now that we know that, we can start to figure out who he is and what he really wants.

This, people, is William Willson in all his glory. And Will turns out not to be the protagonist, but the doppelganger tormenting him. I don't remember who said that theory, but: you were absolutely right.

Anyway, this has gotten long. Thank you very much for making it this far.

[dilf-docs]

Champagne Symphony, Caviar Dreams

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: you keep finding harry in these events. how long until someone gives in?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 1,815 words

side note: hi hello thank u for ur support my citizens!!!!!!! i hope you enjoy this random update even if the fandom is currently in shambles bc of tlou 2 and joel miller sexy old man with glasses atm,, just hi i'm the problem it's me late to the function as per usual. ps. if u want to be added to the taglist just lmk :) <3

part: prev | masterlist | next

The click of black shoes against wooden floors startles you.

"A White Russian, for the lady"

Before you get to ask, the waiter is gone. Rachel arches and eyebrow.

"If this was a bar, I'd be flattered. Right now, I'm just confused"

Your eyes search his in the bustling room, only to find him already staring.

You scoff. "That makes us two, then"

You raise your glass, wearing a daring smile. Drink for over ten seconds, holding his gaze across the room. If he wanted to play, so be it; didn't matter it was your father's birthday.

His eyes shine, amused. Harry Castillo likes to think he knows when a woman is looking for trouble. The faintest of a smile tugs at his lips when you lick yours. He's coming over. You're up to no good when you stare up, saying his name like a pebble on your shoe.

"I hope I guessed it right" it's what he says instead.

You finish what's left in one gulp. "Nothing too special about it"

He grimaces.

"Hello, Harry"

"Hello, Rachel" but he doesn't even bother to look her way, so unlike his manners.

"Dance with me"

As sudden as the shiver that runs down the spine. Rachel gives you a quizzical look when you turn her way for support.

"Alright"

The music is soft, an instrumental. Your dad hired an orquestra to play, the mellow sound of music filling the room he had rented, in the outskirts of the city. Annabelle wanted a DJ, said it was more modern. But your dad was always a classical man, and that was her way of calling him old, one of many. At least, she was older than you.

He guides you, hand on your back.

Somewhere along the sway, your steps get lost in the spaces between the chords of the violin.

"Why?"

You liked knowing. Answers.

"Because the music is nice" yet Harry preferred the unspoken of your relationship, if you could call it that. Strangers who knew too much about the other. Who revelled in the others' falter. Like a contest to win; you've yet decided the prize. "Don't you think?"

"My father likes nice"

Harry smirks.

"Cheers to David" he gives you a little spin, word reduced to a blur. It's just you and him, "and nice things"

You feel his body irradiate heat. Close proximity suffocating.

"We can't have nice things"

Harry shakes his head, something akin to disappointment circling in his brown eyes.

"Only if you allow yourself to"

Rage bubbles up your throat like champagne. This isn't like your father, who makes you feel small. Harry Castillo makes you feel seen, and that's worst.

He steps forward and you step back at the sound of the music.

"What do you want?"

His grip in your hands tightens, and then he drops you, but his hand on your back stays firm. It's like this with him: always on edge but never quite falling. Head centimeters above the floor, hair brushing the wooden floors; almost crushing.

You lose yourself in the white of his smile.

"To dance"

He pulls you up, face so close to yours. A faint smell of whiskey ghosts his breath.

"I think we're talking about different things"

He smiles, sadly so. He too pulls back, and you hate that small voice in your head that misses the proximity.

"You have yet to understand we aren't"

Anger rises again. You let go of his hands.

"Do you think it's funny to go around confusing people?" you spit.

He looks at you, stern gaze as the music stops.

"I've been clear since the first day"

People clap and the music resumes, but all you hear is the beat of your heart, ringing in your ears.

He leaves first.

Harry doesn't know when it started, but he knows the moment he knew.

You were late, sat next to him: with your long hair and tight black dress. Narrowed eyes as sharp as your fresh manicure. Judgmental. Appalled. Fresh out of law school, as David said.

It was during his fourth. Lasted less than a year; Harry can't remember her name.

He heard your venomous spit at his side: I hate weddings. Doesn't know if you were talking to him but listened.

How could he not? It was clear, in the way you reminded everyone what kind of lawyer you were. Jokes too rough, clipped laughs yet you didn't falter. Too obvious, refusal to be pictured in the family portrait when David married Annabelle the next winter.

But Harry too saw when you followed the bride with your gaze, something raw, not practiced nor learnt, imprisioned behind a neutral expression in your eyes.

It was summer when the wedding happened but Harry was drawn to your cold. The way you had mastered the common art to shove down any emotion, because to feel was to be human.

And to be human was to be weak. You loathed being weak.

Which is why, when you turned to him and mumbled a polite Excuse me to walk out during your father's vows, he understood.

There were dying stars in the dark scope of your eyes, begging to be pulled out of their slow death, pulsing with the same moribund sound of your heart. Hiding behind the sharp comfort of knowing no one would notice. A latent desire to be seen betraying the arm's length drive to keep people away.

Harry was one of those people. The type to notice the quiet breaths of the world that reminded of the painful experience it was to be alive.

And in that moment, he knew there was more to the carefully crafted you.

It was easy then, to figure you. To unravel the mystery of the one he had made to be impossible to decode.

You drank and mingled with the crowd, but each sip seemed labored, like you'd wish for it to be poison and kill you. You were focused, loved your career, but when the noise of the court died down, all that was left was mourning, even if he couldn't quite place your grief. You were all disdain and apathy, but hidden among your clipped conversations was the ravenous desire for attention.

Behind every fake smile and mascara layers, Harry saw the corners of your mouth twitch and the tired eyes.

It was there: the little girl he met, hiding behind mother's legs as if you took a step forward, the world would swallow you.

She was gone, and you had changed your approach: now you were to eat the world as revenge.

You could lie to everyone, yourself even, but Harry knew.

He wasn't a patient man, yet for you? He could wait.

Wait until you let him in. Until you take the hand he's been extending your way, hoping you'd take the leap and jump.

"Should I always chase for you?" Harry jokes after finding you. "Either you love running away or have a thing for balconies"

"Nobody obligues you" you turn to face him.

Harry couldn't voice out loud nor explain the pull he felt towards you. Like magnets. Moth to a flame; things meant to happen. Things that are unavoidable. Or just how easy it was to fall into your orbit. You were a black hole sun: burning and consuming.

"You dipped"

You dipped my head so close to the floor I thought I was falling. Dipped after making my skin feel like a burden and not the one I live in.

He's taken back by your barely concealed reproach.

"Would've you want me to stay?"

Life is a game, and you hate how he's the only one who makes you lose.

You scoff. "Bet that's what you would've wanted"

"You still haven't answered"

You rub your nose. "Is it so important for you that I do?"

For the first time, he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm not here to please you"

He smirks. "Do you ever aim to please anyone but yourself?"

"Are you calling me egotistical?"

"I'm not one to throw stones" he shrugs, then makes his way towards you.

"That's all I feel you do"

He let's his body rest against the marble of today's selected balcony.

"Are you accusing me of being disparaging?"

"I guess we're just throwing big words around" you laugh, dryly.

Harry exhales loudly. "Do you want me to go?"

Stay.

"It's fine" you shrug, nonchalant.

Some minutes fly by, the soft orchestral music from inside the only sound to be heard in the aphony.

"How long do you think this'll last?"

He turns to you, but before he asks for clarification, you're speaking again:

"Dad and Annabelle"

"You shouldn't be betting on your old man" he berates, but there's no bite in his words.

"It always ends"

He doesn't like the finality in your tone. Like you knew it all.

"At least you'll never run out of'a job"

"You're not going to correct me?" you snort at his attempt to humor you. "Tell me that love is real or some shit?"

Harry gives you a knowing smirk.

"Has it ever worked before?"

You don't quite smile, but your lips press together.

The music comes to a stop, people clapping and then a microphone turning on. It's your father's voice.

"Guess it's coming to an end"

Now it's his turn to speak. "Like everything else"

You're about to walk inside when he speaks.

"What about our dance?"

Your turn around. A soft breeze passes by.

"What?"

He gives you a half smile. "It hasn't finished"

Harry extends his hand towards you, waiting for you to take it.

"Shall we?"

You don't have the answer, but when the warmth of his hand covers your freezing smaller ones, you feel you've chosen the right one.

His steps are measured, each brush of your fingers and lingering touch deliberate. You lose yourself in the quiet of the night, the symphony of his heartbeat intertwined with yours, alike to that connection that holds your hands together.

"This is nice"

Outloud. You don't realize it's been you who has said it until he stops dancing, lips parted as he looks at you.

"Y/n-"

The brittle vulnerability is fleeting, like the laughs at your father's drunken speech. It comes and goes, the sound drowning each time you look at his eyes.

All words are futile devices. You're the one who knows such thing best.

"Don't"

Don't speak.

Don't ruin this.

Don't make me think of questions I'm too afraid to hear the answers.

"Okay" he coincides. "We won't"

We won't talk.

We won't ruin this.

We won't think about what this is and what it means.

But all the forbidden is lost when his touch and perfume stay in your skin even as you sink down on your lavender sheets and the feeling of knowing something you hadn't before remains.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell (comment if u wanna be tagged!)

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

[gothwineaunts]

I don’t mean to assume or make anyone alarmed but I’ve heard you and flynn are skipping the focus on Annabel and Lenore bc of a group of Montresor fans (as Lenore and Annabel aren’t popular with them).

Is that true??

I’m not asking because of what’s happening in fastpass, I heard about this information around when season 2 came out.

Wow, that's honestly absurd. Sorry hon, I dunno where you heard that but it's made-up nonsense. A rumor, and not even a particularly good one. I think most anyone would be able to see through it, but I'll go through it with you anyway because I've seen some angst on the tag about this. 1. Lenore and Annabel are the main characters of the story, and that has not changed and will not change. If we intended to toss them aside in season 2, why on earth would we have set so much up in season 1? Also all of the promo art is still of them, and we spent a lot of time on it. So I think it's a safe bet to assume they're still the main characters. 2. Nevermore is, and has always been, a sapphic gothic romance. Montresor is a man. Where is the sense in changing the intent of a story, and likely losing readers in the process, just to appeal to a niche group? 3. As for this niche group of Montresor fans, where? Who are they? And what power do they supposedly have over us to force us to completely change the story to their shadowy whims? Idk if you noticed this but people kind of hate Montresor. He's easily the least liked character in the series. And making him the main character would be maybe the most unpopular decision we could possibly make, so how would that be selling out or making fanservice, if everyone... would hate it? Wouldn't that make it the opposite of fanservice? What is the logic there? 4. As far as I am concerned, Annabel and Lenore are popular with most everybody in the fandom (including people who happen to also like Montresor) on account of them being, once again, the main characters of the story. 5. Annabel got the first flashback, and then Ada, then Prospero, then Eulalie, and Will. I feel like there are enough data points there for most people to be able to see the trajectory of the arc. If you can't, I'm not going to explain it. 6. Related to the above point, do you suppose we've passed over Lenore by accident? Or we just forgot about her? Or is it more likely that we're doing a thing? 7. Y'know, it's always Montresor people make up these moralistic rumors about. I'm sick to death of people being weird about Montresor. Some of you out there really need to learn what a villain is, it's frankly wild how much confusion there seems to be around this concept. 8. This rumor smacks of "you don't actually care about the sapphics" but I regret to inform you that Flynn and I are both sapphics. And worse, we're sapphic together. Kinda shoots that idea out of the water. 9. Is this because everyone is mad they haven't kissed yet? Because this is still the same slowburn you read last season. I don't know why anyone thought there'd be a kiss like ten panels into the new season. 10. If I seem edgy, it's because it's pretty insulting to imply that we just do whatever readers tell us to do when it comes to creating the story. We really put our hearts into this series, and our plans for the plot will not change, no matter what y'all say or do. We do not crowdsource our art. And if we did, it would make an absolute mess of things. Thanks for your question, I hope I cleared things up. <3

[artyphex]

Lmao my TikTok was too long to upload here so I’m just gonna retype it all out

Chester and Norris: Are they really Jon and Martin?

Wrong question imo! The BETTER question is: How MUCH of Jon and Martin are Chester and Norris?

The fact is these programs have SOME link to Jon and Martin, Jonny and Alex would not be voicing them otherwise, so what it comes down to is how much of a link?

Because it could be that it’s ONLY their voices. Annabelle explained to Jon that the tapes belonged to the Web, and that by “taking his voice” Jon was therefore bound to the Web and the other fears by extension. It’s entirely possible that when the Fears left Archives’ universe, they brought Jon (and Martin as he was also on the tapes) voices over with them, but JUST the voices. Nothing else. It’s just a coat of paint over the entities methods of collection, Chester and Norris aren’t Jon and Martin anymore than glasses are the person wearing them

But I’m not sure that’s the case. There’s a lot of holes there. The main one being: why? If it is just hollow voices, then why? What’s the purpose of the fears using them? It’s only been two episodes, so it might be answered later, but let’s talk about the second possibility

Chester and Norris ARE Jon and Martin, they just aren’t aware. When Martin “cut the tether” in episode 200, he didn’t cut the Fears away from Jon, he cut the Fears away from the world and at that point, as the Pupil of the Eye, Jon was part of the fears. Since Martin was in the panopticon when they went, he went too.

And now we have a disembodied Jon and Martin existing in a dazed but still hungry state. They seek out whatever’s familiar and since there’s no Magnus Institute, they go to the OIAR, get into their system, and read out any “real” statements they can find. Feeding off of them.

In this possibility, Jon and Martin are effectively asleep. They aren’t aware of what they’re doing really, just going by their new instincts/nature. But I think the more they feed, the more conscious they’ll become, and we’ll start to Chester and Norris break script. Stutter over a word. Add words. Things that a text to speech program simply CAN’T do even if glitched to shit

What complicates this possibility is the fact that Alice said they only showed up a year ago when it’s implied the OIAR has existed much longer than that as well as the fears in this world. It could be they move from place to place feeding off what they can, and when that’s bled dry, they move somewhere else? If they’re as intertwined with the fears as this theory implies, they could exist across infinite universes, staying alive like this

I’m not sure! It’s super interesting tho. I think the saddest ending would be if it’s never really answered, and Jon becomes, at least in some ways, a mystery

[celandeline]

Not Your Boyfriend, Baby

Farleigh X Reader, SMUT - tw for cheating, reader both cheats and is cheated on

part two

Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules. 

Always stand to his right, so that he can hand you whatever he’s holding without having to think about it. Let him pull you into his lap whenever he wants, even if you’d really rather just sit next to him - always sit next to him. Laugh at the jokes he makes, even if they aren’t funny. Help him with his coursework when he asks, pretend that you need help with things that you know he’s good at so he doesn’t feel stupid. Pretend that he can make you cum. Pretend you don’t know he’s cheating on you.

Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules - but the perks are worth it. 

The necklace he got you for your birthday costs more than your first car, and if you ever sell it, will easily cover rent for at least a year. Designer clothes have a habit of appearing in your dorm room unannounced, always in your size - just because Felix likes when you look good next to him. No clubs are too exclusive to get into, there’s always a booth in the back of the pub reserved for you, people bend over backwards just for the chance of being in Felix’s vicinity - so naturally they’ll do anything for you. 

You’re using him as much as he’s using you - it’s mutually beneficial. You get to live within his innermost circle, he gets to have someone to bring home to his parents so they don’t start looking into arranged marriages after graduation. You have no intentions of actually marrying him, god no - you’ve heard him talk about how many kids he wants, there’s no way in hell you’re pushing out six - but you’ll take what you can get. Felix is a comfortable rung on the social ladder you’re trying to climb. 

“Right, love?” 

Felix’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and back into reality - the warm lighting of the pub casts everyone around your table in a warm golden glow. You’re pressed against Felix’s right side - always his right side - his arm perched on the back of the booth around your shoulders, casually possessive. It’s a little funny how possessive he is, considering how often he cheats on you. On his other side, Annabel nurses a pint, her overlined eyes locked on Felix, utterly enraptured. 

Across the table, India looks at him with the same hunger, even though her head rests on Farleigh’s shoulder. Farleigh looks how you feel - utterly bored, his eyes wandering the room as he idly smokes a cigarette. He’s always been prettier than Felix. More interesting too. If you weren’t trying to climb the social ladder high enough to marry rich and not have to work a day in your life, he’d be who you’re pressed against instead of Felix. There’s something about him that’s always given you the sense that he sees right through you, but it’s exciting. You know he knows why you’re here next to Felix, with a diamond he bought you around your neck. But Felix has no idea - he thinks you’re in love with him. 

It’s laughable, how in his own head he is. 

Still, you feed into the delusion, that practiced sugary-sweet smile playing at your lips as you look up at him. “Mhm.” You hum, picking up your pint and sipping at it. 

Felix grins wide, and turns back to Annabel. “See?”

Annabel rolls her eyes, leaning around Felix to pin a look at you. “You weren’t even paying attention.”

The animosity that every other girl within a fifty mile radius directs at you is the one drawback of being Felix’s main piece. Your smile turns a little sharper. “Yeah.” You admit easily, setting your pint back down. “But I know Felix enough to know that he was probably right.”

Across the table, Farleigh snorts. 

Your eyes slide over to him, and he meets your glance. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head, a dry smile playing at his lips - a silent, really?

You tilt your head in the same direction, mocking - yes, really.

Felix turns back to Annabel. “I’m always right, Anna - best get used to it.”

She rolls her eyes again, but this time it’s playful - flirty, even. You can already see how the rest of tonight is going to play out - Felix will make some excuse about drinking too much or not feeling well or whatever else his idiotic brain can come up with, and disappear back to his dorm room to fuck her. Tomorrow, of course, you’ll act like you’re none the wiser. In two weeks time, when the guilt starts to get at him, a new pair of heels or a Dior skirt will find its way into your closet. 

Simply the way of things. 

Pulling away from Felix’s hold, you make to get up. He glances at you, concerned, but you only smile, and kiss him on the cheek so that you can slide out of the booth. “Gotta use the loo.”

You brush your hands down your skirt as you stand up, and start towards the back of the pub, where the bathrooms are, tossing a look over your shoulder back at the table. You catch Farleigh’s eye, and hold it for a moment. His lips curl upward around his cigarette. With Felix likely going home with Annabel, your schedule for the night just opened up…

Maybe tonight’s the night you do something - someone - just for yourself. Set your plans for the future aside for once, and just have fun. After all, you’re confident Felix will be none the wiser - you know exactly what not to do after watching him fumble around with any and every other girl that’s caught his eye. 

You disappear into the bathroom, Farleigh’s gaze still on you. 

The noise from the pub is quieter here, just a dull hum seeping in through the walls. You lock the door behind you, and inspect yourself in the mirror. You smudge the dark eyeshadow around your eyes a little more, and fluff up your hair so that it doesn’t sit so lifelessly against your head. Your sex appeal back in place, you splash some water on your hands and pat them against your skirt before you leave, stepping back out into the pub. 

As expected, Farleigh is waiting for you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, finishing off his cigarette. A quick glance back at the table lets you know that you were right - Annabel and Felix are gone. India’s moved onto Jack now, laughing a little too loud at something he says. 

“Felix said he wasn’t feeling well, all of a sudden.” Farleigh drawls, bringing your attention back to him. “Annabel’s walking him home.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice that you appreciate - he knows just as well as you do what they’re off to do.

“Shame.” You say, not bothering to try and sound actually sad at all. It wouldn’t fool Farleigh anyway. “Got tired of India?” You snatch the last of his cigarette from his fingers, finishing it off in one drag and dropping the butt to the floor, stamping it out with my boot. 

Farleigh watches you, his eyes half-lidded. “Is there such a thing as not being tired of India?”

“She’s not all bad.” You say. 

He tilts his head, that wry smile coming back to his face. “She’s not trying to fuck you.”

You can’t help but grin at that. “Touche.” You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of India’s flirting - but if Farleigh’s boredom is anything to judge by, she must not be very good at it. 

Silence falls between us, and you let yourself look at him, eyes tracing down the lines of his neck until you reach the hollow at the base, and then back up to his lips.

“So.” Farleigh says. 

You meet his eyes again. “So.”

He grins, foxlike and charming. “You wanna get out of here?”

The walk back to campus is short, but it feels longer with how much you talk about with Farleigh - school and America and family and money and Felix and a million other, less important, things. It’s the most intellectually stimulating conversation you’ve had in a long time, and the most you’ve genuinely laughed in a while too. It’s everything you’ve been missing with Felix - and it makes the war between your want for fortune and fame in the future and your want for genuine connection rage all the more. 

It comes to an end all too quickly for your liking, as you reach the steps to your dorm. 

You slow to a stop, and Farleigh stops as well, looking down at you, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Does it ever bother you?” He asks.

“What?” You reply. 

“That he cheats on you.” Farleigh clarifies. 

It’s a complicated question to answer, so instead you turn it around on him instead. “Does it ever bother you that he’s fucked India?”

Farleigh rolls his eyes. “That’s-”

“He does it to literally everyone.” You press on. “I stopped caring a while ago.”

Something contemplative washes over his face, and he just looks at you for a moment, eyes searching yours for something. His next question is quieter. “Who would you pick, if you weren’t stuck with him?”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not stuck with him.”

Farleigh looks at you, obviously amused. “I can see you trying not to roll your eyes every time he opens his mouth.”

You shrug. “The pros outweigh the cons.”

“So cynical.” He taunts, stepping closer. “You still haven’t answered the question.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious who I would pick if I wasn’t with Felix.” You say, letting him back you up the steps until your back is against the door. You look up at him, and meet his eyes. 

He grins. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”

“It’s you.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it would be anyone else-”

He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, a moan leaving him as you deepen the kiss without waiting, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and vodka and it’s made all the more delicious by the little noises that keep working up his throat, elicited when you grab him by the belt and pull him closer so that you’re chest to chest. He groans when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip and pull away, tugging him with you by the mouth. When you release him, he still follows after you anyway, chasing you for more. 

Fingers still dancing on his belt, you smile. “Come up to my dorm with me?”

“Yes, fuck, please.” He already sounds debauched, and it sends a spike of heat straight down to your core. Felix would never deign himself to beg. 

You push open the door to the dorm building, and start up the stairs, Farleigh trailing only a half step behind you. You fumble with your keys once you reach the door to your room, and Farleigh latches onto the back of your neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin that send a shiver up your spine.

Once you get the door open, you drag him inside and kick it back shut, locking it behind you. 

Farleigh’s back on you in an instant, mouthing under your jaw. You wind a hand into his curls, pulling his head back from your neck. “Don’t leave any marks or Felix-”

He rolls his eyes, and cuts you off. “Duh.”

Without any more preamble he dives back into your neck, kissing along the length of it until he makes his way back up to your lips. You meet him in a kiss greedily, pushing off the door behind you and walking him back towards your bed. He hits the bedframe and breaks the kiss to sit on the edge. With a grin, you’re climbing into his lap and gently pushing him down until his backs flat against the mattress. 

He’s so pretty like this - curls splayed out across your duvet cover, hands gripping onto your hips like you’ll float away if he lets go. You run a hand under his shirt, rucking it up so that you can see the way his stomach flexes when you touch him. Slowly, you dip your head down to lick a trail up his abdomen, never breaking eye contact. 

He tips his head back with a shaky groan. “Oh, fuck.”

You grin, shifting forward so that you can nose under his jaw, lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. “What about you? Will India get mad if I-”

“Don’t fucking care, I want you to do it anyway.” He says, a little breathless. He’s so responsive - every little groan and whine shoots heat straight to your core. If sex with Felix was like this, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him. 

You sink your teeth into his neck just below his ear and he keens, his hips knocking up into yours. His fingers dig into your hips, bunching the fabric of your skirt into his fists like he’s holding on for dear life. You take the opportunity to start the slow roll of your hips as you work a chain of hickeys across his neck, scattering them artfully around his collarbone. 

Deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your spine until you get the message and pull it off yourself, flinging it somewhere in your room. Farleigh wiggles out of his own shirt underneath you, pushing the offending garment off the edge of the bed. Freed of your shirt, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra as well, tossing it in the same direction. 

Farleigh’s eyes fall to your tits immediately, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate. “I see why Felix keeps you around-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You say with a smile. Even when you have him in your bed, he’s the same old Farleigh. It’s a breath of fresh air after having to pretend you like when Felix calls himself ‘daddy’. 

Your skirt is next, and then the tights you’d had on underneath it as Farleigh works on his trousers, kicking them off the end of the bed. Only your underwear left, you resume grinding against him, watching as his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he uses his grip on your hips to work you over him harder. 

“How do you want me?” You ask, leaning down to press more kisses along the length of his neck. 

You expect him to respond - to tell you to turn over on all fours or ride him reverse cowgirl - but he only sighs in the back of his throat. “Whatever you like, baby.” 

You press your lips to his in another greedy kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the moans that slip past his lips. He’s not making it easy to think about going back to Felix after this. Felix, who calls himself ‘daddy’ and manhandles you around however he likes and hasn’t made you cum a single time. You can feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your underwear from how malleable Farleigh is underneath you - how he looks at you like he’d gladly do anything you ask him to. 

You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and shuck them down his legs. Your own underwear are next, and then you’re grinding on him again, spreading your wetness up and down his length. 

Farleigh’s grip tightens, and he tips his head back again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he moans. “Mm.” He picks his head back up enough so that he can look at you. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go down on you but - mm - I don’t think you need it- oh fuck!”

Rising up on your knees, you line him up and slide down him in one drop of your hips, lodging him inside of you. He’s longer than Felix is, but skinnier too so the stretch doesn’t sting as much. God, it’s like he was made for you, with how easily he reaches right where you need him to without even trying. You start to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage and tossing your head back, losing yourself in the feeling. 

Farleigh whines, a high pitched breathy thing that sounds like it’s been forced out of him as you start to move. Gently, you pry his hands away from your hips and pin them down over his head, just because he lets you do it. It’s a rush - that he’ll let you do whatever you want and take it happily - and it goes to your head. He strains against your grip but you don’t let up, working yourself up and down his cock just to watch his eyes roll up into his head. 

“What- ahh, what are you doing?” Farleigh chokes out, straining against your grip again. 

“Whatever I want.” You croon, whispering against his lips. 

He snags you in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth hungrily as he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting so that his hips meet yours on every downstroke. A sharp gasp forces its way out of your throat as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten, and you can’t help but smile at him. It’s almost a novelty, the way he works with you instead of against you like Felix often does. 

He grins back up at you, and tilts his chin upward to kiss you again. Breathy, he says, “Felix is an idiot.”

You choke on a moan as a particularly hard thrust jolts through you. “Why’s that?”

“He doesn’t know what he has.” Farleigh says. “I’ve fucked India and - fuck - Annabel and they’ve got nothing on you.”

You laugh and moan at the same time. “You don’t have to - mm - be nice just so I’ll let you cum in me.”

“I can be nice.” He breathes. 

You ghost your lips over his neck. “You’re never nice.”

“I can be nice.” He insists, turning his head so that you can litter kisses along the length of his neck. You trail upwards until you reach the lobe of his ear, biting gently at the skin. “To you.”

“Careful.” You say. “Better stop now or I might think you’re in love with me or something-”

Farleigh tenses up beneath you, as a long groan escapes from his lips as he throws his head back. He thrusts three more times before he stills, slumping back down to the mattress, panting hard. His eyes flutter open, blown wide as he looks up at you. 

You can feel a smirk playing on your lips. “Did you just cum?”

He has the decency to look a little ashamed. “Maybe.”

You laugh, and kiss him. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”

“I’m good.” He insists, working his wrists free of your hold. “I can still- here, just-”

He pulls you to his chest and rolls on the mattress so that you’re underneath him now, and resumes fucking into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. The change in position makes the feeling all the more potent, and a moan slips out from your lips. 

Winding your arms around his shoulders, you rake your nails up his back, and feel him shiver against you. “Farleigh…”

“Don’t fucking do that.” He laughs. “I’ll cum again.”

You toss your head back against the pillow as he speeds up his thrusts, obviously trying to get you to cum before he’s too spent to keep going. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the feeling of him against you, the tickle of his curls against your neck, the breathy moans that slip from his lips into your ear, the feeling of his teeth against your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin-

“Farleigh-” You start, only to cut yourself off as the coil finally snaps and pleasure shoots through you. “Oh fuck-”

He groans, and shoves his face deeper into your neck as his thrusts slow to a stop. He slumps again, flopping on top of you with a long sigh.

When you come back to your senses, you tug on his hair until he grumbles. “You are such a dick.” You say. “I said no marks.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles into your skin. 

“No you’re fucking not.” You retort. 

He lifts his head out of your neck, that foxlike grin on his face again. “No I’m not.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask. 

He pulls out, and flops back down on the bed next to you, nosing back into the crook of your neck as he slings an arm over your chest. “Makeup. Wear your hair down.” He shrugs. “It’s Felix - he’ll probably think he did it.”

You rest your chin on the top of his head, the aftershocks of pleasure running through you. “‘M never having sex with you again.”

Farleigh snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

You smile into his hair, because he’s right. Of course he’s right. There’s no way in hell this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence. 

[beiyuanism]

fully inspired by this post. i was initially going to put this in the tags in a reblog, but no one deserves to be hit with this wall of text in their notifications. anyway - never give annabelle a gun is amanda wilson's favorite western.

so. hear me out. mr wilson is a huge fan of westerns, and amanda pretty much grows up on winnetou movies and shit, because that's all that plays on their tv at all times. one time, he gets this entire box of westerns on dvd on clearance, and he and amanda make it A Thing Of Theirs that they watch one of these movies maybe every day over the summer holidays, or at least as often as they can. and one of those movies is never give annabelle a gun. i can picture this pretty much straightbaiting dvd cover with annabelle and henry front and center, and butch just somewhere in the background, or maybe even not there at all, so they don't really know what they're in for. and i'm ngl, i think mr wilson is a little worried as he realises what relationship the movie is actually setting up, because he's not exactly feeling ready for the "what's a lesbian, dad?" talk, but amanda doesn't ask, so he doesn't offer, and the movie ends, and he's glad to move on.

except, amanda becomes fully obsessed with it for a while. like, she watches it over and over on the family tv every time her dad isn't home, she tries to dress like annabelle and butch, but she doesn't exactly have cowgirl-esque clothes in her closet, so it doesn't really work, etc etc. she keeps talking to clarissa about the movie so much that clarissa finally agrees to watch it with her, but she decides that it's boring halfway through and they never finish it. and after that amanda maybe stops watching it so much, and then maybe the dvd gets misplaced somewhere, and she slowly forgets about it.

until years later, as a teenager already, she's going through some boxes in the attic, and one of those boxes is full of her dad's old westerns that he now just watches on the internet. she looks through the dvds, trying to remember some of the titles she hasn't seen her dad watch in a while to remind him about, when she comes across never give annabelle a gun. she gets hit with this wave of nostalgia, she knows she used to love this movie, but she doesn't really remember anything about the plot itself, so she takes it downstairs to her room and puts it on, curious.

she sobs for a good half an hour after finishing it. and maybe she doesn't even know why, because she hasn't realised she's a lesbian yet, much less that she's in love with clarissa, but the movie stirs something in her, and she feels almost physically sick for the next few days. after that, she watches it every time she needs a good cry, and then, when she accepts that she's a lesbian, she watches it for the good kind of tears and the happy lesbian couple. and THEN, when she realises she's in love with clarissa, it becomes bittersweet again. especially after clarissa and mark start dating slash it starts to seem they're serious about each other. she sees herself in the way butch is obliviously pining for annabelle and the way annabelle keeps saying stupid things whenever she tries to confess (i mean, amanda proposed a threesome instead of telling clarissa not to marry mark. she could just as well ask her to rob a bank together when she wants to say she loves her), and, hell, she sees mark in henry, even though sometimes, when she's feeling less mean, she has to admit mark is nowhere near henry's levels of creepiness and most of it comes from her just not liking him.

(and then maybeeee after mark and clarissa inevitably get divorced - because i don't believe they're lasting more than a year - clarissa is in such a weird and apathetic mood that she hasn't even cried for weeks, and she's having trouble processing everything, so amanda, without really thinking about it, suggests that they watch this one movie that always makes her cry when she needs it. she's shaking the whole time they're watching it, because the second butch appears on the screen, she remembers why exactly she cries over this particular movie, and something about it seems dangerous. like clarissa is going to realise amanda is in love with her just because her favorite movie is a lesbian western. meanwhile, clarissa is a little confused, because by the time they get to the helium bit, it mostly seems like a stupid comedy. but then butch gets kidnapped, and clarissa is suddenly wiping tears away. she doesn't see the lesbian couple setup at all btw, but when annabelle and her dad are having that conversation about butch, she's full on sobbing, and when annabutch finally kiss, she literally stops breathing for a moment. she doesn't yet know why. but she will soon.)

[alwaysless]

hate post for amontillado arc

Look I really love Nevermore, I mean I have a whole blog dedicated to it here, but the whole "I'm in your walls" arc makes my eye twitch.

I perfectly understand why this arc is needed in the perspective of the whole story - it makes Lenore realize how radical the situation of the survival game is, and what extremes her wife and her best friend are willing to go to for their own safety. Lenore seems to have a tendency to ignore the obvious flaws of her loved ones, because Annabel has made it very clear that she does not consider the lives of other students valuable yet Lenore looks stunned when Annabel does exactly what she warned her about. And then Lenore gets angry at Duke's completely fair attempt at revenge, although she has no suitable arguments except for inappropriate chivalrous nobility (because she couldn't just say "don't kill my wife" lol).

But when it comes to the smaller details of the story, it crumbles. First of all, the whole concept of "let's wall up our enemy" seems so specific and unconventional. As if the only reason Montresor came up with this idea at all was because Rnf wanted it that way, because we have a webtoon inspired by Edgar Poe and a guy named Montresor so of course he has to immure his rival in the wall alive. A reference for the sake of a reference.

To be honest, Annabel didn't need to shift his attention from Lenore to Duke, it would have been enough for her to say that the whole plan was stupid and required too many risks and resources: wisps could catch them at any moment, they had to get tools somewhere and find a suitable recess in the wall and they weren't even sure Duke was going to die. Montresor only asked Poppet the next morning if they were mortal. And what if they werent? Seriously, if he wanted to get rid of someone from the opposing team, it was easier to stab or shoot them. That way, they would immediately find out if the students could die. And only if they couldn't, then posh gang could go to the backup plan and look for a place to lock Duke up.

Speaking of Duke. Let's look at the whole situation from his perspective. He has just found out that there is only one second life, and most likely he will have to go against his friends sooner or later. Just a couple of hours later, his bestie shows up in his bedroom in the middle of the night and leads him to the basement, without saying where or why. And he's coming with her! Without asking unnecessary questions! They've known each other for three days! Wow, Duke must trust Lenore very much to be so sure that she wouldn't stab him in the back by getting him deeper into the catacombs. I mean, her whole behavior looked so suspicious! And he didn't question it! Duke, are you an idiot? Given the context if I were him I would immediately think "well it's been a fun three days but now she's clearly going to kill me".

Next, why is Annabel even there? I assumed she probably wanted to make sure her distraction worked and Monty wouldn't change his mind and hurt Lenore but that's a bit of a weak explanation. The plot just needs Duke to mistake her for the main initiator and then try to take revenge, and Annabel doesn't even try to justify herself until it's too late.

I can roughly understand why she doesn't justify herself to Duke, but what about the argument with Lenore on the balcony? Why doesn't Annabel explain that she was just trying to protect her? This fundamentally changes the situation and although Lenore would still be angry, she would at least understand what exactly Annabel was guided by. But NOOOOOO we need misunderstanding, we need drama and divorce.

I also want to talk a little bit about the misfits and their actions or more like lack thereof. Watch the hands: the deans take Lenore to dreamland, Pluto and the girls realize that Duke is in danger and find out from Montresor and Ada that they have walled him up while Lenore learns the same thing from Duke in more detail. It happens in the evening after class at the mansion, because Ada is clearly depicted here in the same underwear she was wearing before (and also the lighting).

Then Lenore wakes up in her bed the next morning and Pluto breaks into her room in a panic: we have Morella in her nightwear, Will brushing his teeth and Monty calling him for breakfast, so it should be the next day.

So what the hell were Pluto and Eulabee doing all night? Did they find out that Duke was dying and decided to wait for Lenore? Hadn't any of them thought of getting more information from Will, Annabel or Prospero? Especially considering that Pluto had been sleeping in the same room with him all night! Or had they spent the entire night running around the academy in a panic and knocking on every suspicious-looking wall? No, seriously, what were they doing.

I probably forgot something else, but in general, these are almost all my main complaints about this part of the story. All these oddities and inconsistencies (including chronological ones) really piss me off. Because again, I love this webtoon so much, I often reread many scenes and found all these plot holes, some of which are quite easy to explain, but ideally the reader should not ask such questions at all.

And yet, despite all my nagging, I'm absolutely in love with the drawing style in these chapters. THEY'RE ALL SO BEAUTIFUL

DUKE'S SPECTRE?? PURE ART!!!

[violxtdreams]

smol theory about how morella died

TW for discussions of death!! also SPOILERS for recent episodes in Season 2 (not fast pass ones)

so as i was rereading all the episodes we have as of now i noticed that Morella is probably the character we know the least about right now when it comes to what her life was like prior to dying and ending up in nevermore. Duke was a magician sabotaged during a show, Pluto had an abusive and alcoholic dad that probably offed him one way or another, Ada was a maid killed by her lover in the middle of the woods, etc. (we don’t know how Lenore died either but there’s a lot more content to speculate on that) we even know that Berenice was run over by a suspicious man despite our lack of lore on her that we’ll (probably) get soon.

i’ve heard small theories here and there that Morella died during the great famine in Ireland, which i didn’t subscribe to at first becuz no one had a death explicitly tied to a historical event like that… until we got Will backstory bits that seemed to take place during a period of severe dust storms—the dehydration from that would explain why his last meal of choice would have been peaches and a glass of water.

so i thought about how Morella’s chosen last meal was shepherd’s pie, a food made using leftover meat and popular among people in poverty. in episode 104 it’s also noticed by Eulalie that Morella is a rather good cook. when she asks where Morella learned, the latter brushes it off. and it’s pretty evident by now that people still retain their learned skills, behaviors and whatnot from when they were in the land of the living, like Duke with lockpicking.

so now cuz of all of this i actually think that it would make sense for her death to have happened cause of the Irish famine, whether directly or indirectly. the only thing is that i struggle to tie it in with the following—

her spectre being a guardian which strongly suggests she died trying to save/help/protect someone. this wouldn’t be a difficult puzzle piece into fit if not for the one below

the pattern of most the deaths being murders or close to being murders (Annabel was shot, Duke sabotaged, Montresor straight up tied to a railroad, Will was left for dead, that fire that burnt down the building Eulalie was in could have been intentional, based on the vision of Prospero’s fear courtesy of Ada he may have been wrongly operated on, etc etc only Lenore may not have been murder due to the lack of info)

the thing i have in mind is that she tried to get other people to eat, feed them, gave them food or something along those lines but someone found that stupid to say the least and either punished her by withholding food and making her starve or some other more obvious way of committing homicide due to her being seen as a liability, but maybe there’s better options out there that i just can’t think of lmao

[montresor-appreciator]

so we have quite a few theories on what the students of Nevermore all have in common, I'll include the main ones I've seen and a few of my own

1: they are all gay in some way. Lenore and Annabel are deffo gay, Prospero is aro, Will is gay, Monty maybe bi, Morella and Ada have a vibe, Pluto and Duke have one too (shipped with Eulalie too by some), that's some at least i know of

or

2: they were betrayed by someone. Lenore's disguise was probably outed (betrayed) by her dad and then either she (accidentally, or as a suicide pact thing) or Ira killed Annabel. Monty might have been tattled to the sheriff by his mum, or by the rest of the cult, or maybe the girl he was sleeping with told on him. Duke was betrayed by his assistant. Will was probably killed by those Bonnie&Clyde dickheads. Prospero was turned on by members of his community, maybe they ostracised him even more when he became sick himself. maybe the person Morella died saving actually had a chance to save her and didnt take it, thereby betraying her. Pluto was either killed by suicide or by his dad, and suicide would still be a betrayal as it would have been due to his dads treatment of him. Ada was murdered by that bastard in the forest after he had got her pregnant.

or

3: they all have a mental illness/regarded as having a mental illness. ie Prospero's germophobia, Annabel's panic attacks, Eulalie's interest in the supernatural/undiagnosed (probable) autism, Lenore having hysteria, Monty and his cult & "having the devil inside him since the day he was born", and Will being gay etc

or

4: they had no one alive who would miss them after they died. the only one i feel slightly goes against this would be Prospero, but we don't know his mum was still alive when he died. the flashback that included her definitely preceded his death for while to come.

or

5: they were murdered. Annabel was murdered, Duke was murdered, Monty was murdered, Berenice was murdered, Pluto might have been murdered, Eulalie was probably murdered by arson, Prospero might have been buried alive or operated on causing death.

or

6: the unfinished business route. if they didn't manage to achieve their dreams whatsoever in life, maybe this qualifies them for the school.

or

7: they aren't actually dead, they are in a sort of pre-death limbo, and if they win the 'life' at the end they can just sorta wake up again. i say this because iirc Berenice is the only one who we saw 'properly' dead after the car hit her, but she could have been in shock/injured. annabel i'm not definitively counting bc the deans could have falsified that memory before showing her. the other students we saw seconds BEFORE they died.

i think that's all i got for now lol, feel free to add any more!

[bats-pajamas]

It’s absolutely wild to me that the fandom immediately jumped to the conclusion that Duke is willing to let Eulalie die over Pluto. I get that the two are closer, and that this series is built on moral complexities, but this seems like such a misreading. Duke said it himself, pulling the lever is the most important part. He trusts Pluto more than Eulalie to be able to get the timing right. You can see this when he tells Eulalie what to do,

"I need you to listen to me very carefully" "do you understand, cherie?" "don't get distracted"

Plus look at this little worry face he gives her

This scene honestly tells us more on how Duke views Eulalie than his views on Pluto. In universe, this is only at most an hour after chapter 114. Duke probably still has that on the back of his mind and believes Eulalie is a potential liability. And you can argue that this is another case of the Misfits being ableist infantilizing towards Eulalie. And just like every time Eulalie is underestimated by the Misfits, she proves them wrong (You think they'll learn their lesson by now) .

Furthermore, if Duke truly didn't want to put Pluto in danger he's willing to put Eulalie at risk, you would think he would've fought back more against Pluto's insistence on being the bait. Or would give Pluto more of a heads up before chucking him In front of the wild Hunt. Or hell, again in 114, why would he save Eulalie from the dogs, putting both Pluto and him at risk, instead of slamming the door and locking it?

Maybe this whole thing is biased because I love Duke. But one of my favorite things about him is his faults! Don't take this as me thinking in black and white, or trying to absolve Duke of any wrongdoings or complexities. Take this as me being frustrated because of misreadings of a character I like. Since we've been seeing the softer sides of Annabel's team many fans are expecting for the Misfits to be shown as more grey, me included. But Duke lowkey pulling a Annabel Lee seems like a huge jump, at least currently. It's also frustrating because Will and Montresor's episodes have been picked apart more than a carcass surrounded by vultures. Meanwhile this episode and duke is only getting a nibble at the skin.

Like always feel free to disagree with me. But if you want to share your own argument remember don't be a dick about it. I know I come off as angry at the end there but I promise I'm open to others's thoughts.