#warnings...lets see

[silvrash-797]

Febuwhump 2025 - Countdown

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Read on ao3

Chapter 3: Put on Display

Humiliation burned, hot and sharp, as Sky stared out from the bars of his cage. He hadn’t thought the noble meant a literal cage. But here he was, in a literal cage, on display for anyone to see, in just his trousers since they’d shredded his shirt to bind the wound in his arm.

His skin prickled constantly as people looked on curiously, but every time he tried to make eye contact, or plead for help, they immediately turned away, ashamed.

He thought he’d known loneliness, on the Surface at the start of his adventure, or as he took on temple after temple.

He thought wrong.

Even the guards, who brought him his meals and fresh water, refused to engage with him. All he had to interact with was a ball, small and bouncy (Wind would love it no, don’t think about them), a sandy floor he could draw patterns in, and a rainwater puddle in one corner. His eyes ached as he tried not to cry, to remain strong.

He couldn’t imagine condemning Wolfie to this existence.

Day passed into night into day again. More people, openly gawking behind concealing hands, shivering cold as it rained for a spell, hot sunlight, worse than the Lanayru Desert, burning his skin, the silent guards bringing a slight meal and a splash of water…

Insanity sounded pretty good, now.

The second night passed slowly, so slowly, as Sky fought tears, aching loneliness, and the insidious thought of maybe they won’t save me.

The morning of the third day dawned chill and bleak, reflecting Sky's mood. He stared listlessly at his surroundings, not focused on anything. It took him a moment to notice the dark green blob on the other side of the bars.

The figure tutted, and Sky looked up. The noble from before stared down at him. “Not a single word from your friend,” the man pouted, “and not a single rescue attempt, either. One would almost think he doesn’t care for you.”

Sky sighed and looked away, shame bubbling in his gut – he’d begun to think the same thing. They’ll come, he wanted to say, but his voice failed him.

He felt the noble's eyes crawl across his skin for another eternal moment, then the man clapped his hands. Sky startled at the sudden noise. “Well,” the noble said, “my guards say they’ve found a rather unusual specimen of rabbit wandering outside the gates, with the most luxuriant pink fur, can you imagine! I was going to put him with the other rabbits, but something so special deserves a place of honor, right here with my other prize.”

Pink…rabbit?…could it be…?

“Think of it as a gift, if you will,” the noble rambled on, unaware of the tentative hope unfurling in Sky's chest, “a comfort for your last twenty-four hours.

“I hate to have to kill you, you’ve brought such a crowd to my little menagerie, but I am a man of my word. If your friend hasn’t arrived with his wolf by morning, you will be executed in the main square.” He snapped his fingers, and a guard brought forward something small and wriggling. Another guard unlocked the cage and opened the door just far enough to let the first toss the thing inside.

Distantly, Sky heard the lock snap shut again, the noble's false platitudes and condolences babble in the background as he bid farewell.

All his attention honed in on the bundle of pink fur sorting itself out on the sandy floor, right where he’d drawn a picture of Sun. Long ears twitched and twisted, following the noble's departure and the guards' paths; violet eyes, sharp and intelligent, peered knowingly into Sky's own.

“…Le…Lege…end…?” Sky croaked, voice hoarse from disuse. His breathing picked up, an immense, unnamable emotion threatening to drown him.

The sharp eyes softened, and the tiny head tilted gently. “Hi, Sky.”

“Legend!” Sky gasped, tears spilling from his soul as he scrambled to his leporine brother. It took everything he had to not crush the tiny body in his arms, shivering at the warmth that spread from his chest into each limb. He sobbed and held Legend close, reveling in the thrum of his heartbeat, the soft paws stroking comfortingly along his chest, the whispered words of assurance.

“Hush, Sky, I know. I’m sorry it took us so long, I’m here now.” Legend stretched in Sky's arms, placing his paws on either side of his head, kneading the tears from his cheeks. “People are coming, don’t cause a scene; we can’t make anyone suspicious.”

Sky nodded and gulped a few choking breaths, fighting to contain his swirling emotions. He buried his face in Legend's soft pink fur; the Vet grumbled a bit but allowed it. Slowly, the shuddering sobs ebbed, grounded in the warm relief of having his brother nearby.

“’m sorry,” Sky finally murmured, exhausted. “I thought…” He stopped, suddenly ashamed.

“Thought what, Sky?”

“I thought…no one was coming,” he admitted hoarsely, bracing for an angry retort.

It never came. Instead, Legend flopped into his chest, settling close. “That’s a fair assumption to make,” he said. “It took longer than we liked to come up with a plan to get you out. But it’s in motion now, and with some luck, you’ll be out of here before dawn.”

“What’s the plan?” Sky asked.

“Nope, not saying. Call it superstition if you like, but until it’s done I’m not saying anything.” Legend looked up at him, sincerity bright in his eyes. “I will say this: look around today. You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

And of course, he was right. Now that hope had sharpened his senses, he saw his brothers everywhere.

A little mouse-like creature that wore a distinctly-patterned tunic scurrying past.

A fairy glowing green and gold that flitted through the bars of his cage and spiraled around his injured arm, chiming a soft “Take heart!” before flying away.

A person with long blond hair and Gerudo Vai clothes walking casually through the menagerie exhibits.

A boy with sun-bleached hair and tan skin running amidst a pack of other children.

The guard who brought him his food, with his signature jaunty smile even if his scarf was missing and his hair was somehow darker, who told him “Don’t eat that” under his breath.

The pink bunny, who never once left his side.

By the time night fell, Sky felt dizzy with euphoria. He tried his best to hide it from the departing crowds and the circling guards, but he couldn’t help the quiet tears that dripped from his eyes.

A pair of guards took up their position outside his cage. It was hard to tell in the flickering torchlight, but their builds seemed a perfect match for Twilight and Time, although their faces were somehow clear of any tattoos.

With their arrival, Legend stretched and shook out his coat. “That’s my cue,” he whispered, hopping a few paces away. He rummaged through a tiny pouch hidden in his fur and pulled out a lustrous pearl. With a quiet shimmer of magic, a Hylian stood where the bunny had been moments before.

With the pearl clutched tight in his hand, Legend rummaged in his pouch one more time. When he pulled it out, he held a single key. Its handle was shaped kind of like a remlit, if the large ears were replaced by a mane of hair surrounding the head.

Legend strode to the cage door, reached through the bars, and fit the key into the lock. A short moment later, the lock sprung open.

“Holy Hylia, it worked.” Legend sounded surprised, but shook it off quickly. He stowed the key back in his pouch, took something from the taller guard on the right, and walked back to where Sky sat, dumbstruck.

He placed a lopsided gray mask onto the sandy floor of the cage and extended his free hand to Sky. “C'mon,” he prompted gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Taking Legend's hand, Sky rose, wobbling slightly from the lack of exercise and malnutrition. He leaned on Legend until his balance stabilized.

Once he could stand on his own, Legend picked up the mask and handed it to Sky. “Put that on,” he said. “I’ll turn back into a bunny, then you can carry me out. Time assured me it would hide us both.”

Sky obeyed, movements slowed like he was under water. At the same time, anticipation tingled all across his skin. The cage stood wide open for the first time in three days, freedom beckoning. Another shimmer of magic in the corner of his eye, then Sky stooped to pick up the pink bunny, cradling him close to his chest.

He walked to the cage door. Stepped outside. The rustle of grass under his feet, the fresh breeze blowing his sweaty, dirty hair from his face, the snap of the lock behind him…Sky shivered, overwhelmed.

Time and Twilight's gazes slid right over him, as if he didn’t exist. They nodded anyway, then continued to patrol the menagerie. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“Where to?” he whispered hoarsely.

The furry bundle in his arms shifted minutely. Sky twitched as long ears brushed across his chest when Legend looked around.

“To the right, to the end of the cages, then straight on through,” he finally said.

Sky walked in a daze, beating exhaustion back by sheer force of will. Each slow step took him closer to the main gate, unmanned despite the hour.

“Can you tell me what the plan was, now?” he asked after several minutes of silence.

Legend chuckled in his arms. “Wild made a mild sedative that Four and Hyrule added to the food the guards and staff ate from all day. Wind snuck in and stole a pair of guard uniforms for Time and Twilight. We had Twilight’s shadow crystal, my Moon Pearl, Hyrule’s Magic Key, and Time's Stone mask, then fused a few of Four's kinstones for luck. Wars should be out there with your clothes and gear.”

They stepped outside the town walls, into the waiting circle of the rest of the Chain. Legend reached up and prodded at the mask until it fell away from his face. Immediately, Warriors strode forward and wrapped Sky in his own sailcloth. “You’re safe now,” he said gently.

Legend hopped from Sky's arms, returning to his Hylian form in a shimmer of pearl and shadow. He pulled a cord from around his neck and handed it to Twilight, who pushed forward and pulled Sky into a deep hug.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I never shoulda left you there.”

Sky melted into the embrace, fading fast. “’S okay,” he mumbled. “Glad…you’re…safe…”

Twilight's throaty chuckle was the last thing Sky registered before the wings of sleep closed over his mind.

Gathering his sleeping brother in his arms, Twilight led the way down the road, leaving the town behind as the fourth day dawned.

[nectardraws]

michael awareness poster

[blaqcats-fics]

been thinking about jason being petty towards bruce. like, oh, you spend time with your other kids, but not me? tire privileges revoked! it would be over stupid shit too.

like there’s one time bruce decides to take damien to the movies, and jason is just beside himself.

like the conversation would be like:

JASON: So, let me get this straight—you took Damian to a movie.

BRUCE: He asked.

JASON: Oh, and I wouldn’t have wanted to see Kung Fu Panda 4 with you?!

BRUCE: You were busy.

JASON: Busy taking down a cartel. Which, by the way, I learned from you. I deserve quality time!

BRUCE: Jason—

JASON: No. No excuses. You’ll learn.

Jason storms off. Five minutes later, an alert pops up on the Batcomputer.

BATCOMPUTER: Warning: Batmobile rear tires have been removed.

BRUCE: …Jason.

Cut to Jason outside, rolling two Batmobile tires away, cackling.

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[cacaocheri]

small flash warning!!!

i made this video in like under two hours <333 enjoy <333333 it's been so long since ive made a proper shitpost

[daily-beau]

Day 13: A blinding sun

[anghraine]

ROTJ ruled, as usual— it has more flaws than my beloved ESB for sure, and more than ANH, but the highs are so good and so rewarding in a way that never gets old.

One of my favorite parts this time around comes after Anakin tells Luke it's too late for him to ever go back (a belief explicitly shared by Palpatine, Yoda, and Obi-Wan, but not by Luke until that moment—and only for a little while). Luke withdrawing into "Then my father is truly dead" is always great, especially the shot of him in the lift, surrounded by taller men in Imperial uniforms with his shoulders and back rigidly straight and the warmth in his expression gone. But the thing that really makes it is not ending the scene with Luke disappearing, but letting that rejection linger by shifting to Anakin and just letting seconds tick by as he contemplates what's just happened.

He doesn't actually do much—just walks a few steps and reflects. His body language isn't overwhelmingly despondent or anything. Obviously we can't see his face. And yet we feel how hard that hit and how much he's dwelling on it. He's all but encouraged this response from Luke and yet it feels like it's really, truly sinking that this isn't at all what he wants from Luke.

He doesn't want Luke to call Palpatine (or anyone) master, I don't think; he just considers it inevitable, the only possibility other than Luke's death. And for Anakin, death above all is the thing to prevent.

Everything Anakin says is about things he or they must do, or what cannot be escaped, or destiny, but all of these things he says to Luke are ultimately about Not Getting Yourself Killed. There's no sense of choice beyond submission or destruction.

(Anakin does know he's done terrible things, clearly, but his takeaway from that understanding is that he's gone too far to turn back. That sense of powerlessness, the inability to make a choice that really means anything, pervades his characterization in ROTJ in particular.)

But I feel like, while he still feels powerless after Luke leaves, there's also this sense of a slow, half-buried epiphany. This isn't what he wants.

[secriden]

This line. God, this line! It has been eating me up inside for 2 days now, because let's not forget, this line isn't about love, it's about trust. And that has implications that make me want to scream.

It's a direct reference to this moment earlier in the episode:

At the start of this discussion, Style and Fadel still have a kind of playful air about their conversation:

Style: Oh? Not even me? Fadel: You're at 80% at best. I feel like you're hiding something from me in the 20%.

In this exchange, though, there's a sense that Fadel is issuing a challenge, like there's something specific which Style can do to gain Fadel's full trust. And while Style knows there are things he cannot (yet) reveal to Fadel, I think a part of him is determined to be as honest as he can be, which is why he issues a challenge of his own by asking for more specificity:

Style: What do I have to do to gain your complete trust?

Part of this question is a simultaneously inquisitive and deflective - What (and why) do you think I'm hiding (something) from you? - but there's also a moment after Style finishes speaking where he stills and goes quiet that feels... genuine, weighty. Or, as @airenyah has pointed out in her meta on Style in episode 4, the "grounded[ness]" in Style's demeanour is a signal that Style means what he's saying in the moment. Maybe about his own desire to be worthy of Fadel's trust, maybe about how he genuinely does want this relationship to be real in whatever way that matters to Fadel.

I think Fadel sensed that too, because the moment looses all the lightheartedness it had before. Fadel pauses, and then gets a look on his face that just... breaks my heart. There's a sombreness there, like he knows he's going to have to say something that makes him sad. Fadel looks away, and then down, before he seems to steel himself and says:

Fadel: It'll never happen. No matter how much you love someone, I just don't believe that you can completely lay yourself bare in front of them.

Fadel says this like it's fact. Like what he's expressing is something foundational and true and irrefutable. It's not even about his doubt in Style's honesty, because this statement has no qualifiers or conditions put on it to connect it to Style. Rather this is what Fadel fundamentally believes about relationships and trust: he finds the very concept of being fully known and still accepted an impossibility.

Sure, maybe this is because of the falling out (or betrayal or disappearance) associated with the former lover; but I also think it might be because Fadel is acutely aware not only that he's hiding a rather big and dark secret (not to mince words, but: actual literal premeditated murder), but also about what it implies about Fadel. Because being able to kill another human, coldly and clinically and without remorse, takes a certain type of person. Because, yes, Fadel has lived through an absolutely harrowing and traumatising event (his parents' murder), but it's also undeniable that it changed him. Because there's something about Fadel that twisted dark and which he never quite got back. There's an anger, a hurt that colours every moment of his life; that enables him to look a man in the eyes, smile politely, and pull a trigger.

And at this point in their relationship, Fadel's understanding of Style is that he's... well, kind of innocent. Especially in comparison to Fadel and Bison, and even Kant.

Style, who easily reveals facts about his life which Fadel already knows (winning a car tuning competition), making Fadel doubt his own instincts about Style hiding secrets. Style, who also reveals the things Fadel doesn't know, like the tender and secret pain of a mother lost to cancer (which, now that I think about it, Fadel may also know) and his worries about a father who "lost his bearings for a bit" (which he probably doesn't). Style, who tries to comfort Fadel in his own loss by offering a safe space and a sympathetic ear.

Style, who doesn't just see Fadel for his tragedy, but is asking to be given the chance to accept all of Fadel as a person. Style, who not only wants but has the capacity, to be the only person Fadel needs to rely on. Style who, despite the sea of differences between them, understands Fadel on a level that is so very foundational.

I'm going to slightly segue and mention something that may not resonate with everyone, but really hit me in the gut this episode: because I lost my father when I was 16 after he battled cancer for 2 painful years. And this revelation about Style has totally shifted and coloured everything Style has done in a new light for me. Because not only does this totally explain Style's sometimes almost stubbornly childish demeanour (it's common in adults who've had to 'grow up' too early), but also why Style shows seemingly random flashes of insight and maturity when they are most crucial. Notably, Style has this almost instinctive sense of when he needs to back off a sore point with Fadel that I couldn't quite put my finger on until this episode.

I've seen a few jokes about Style's awkward subject change, but I've actually got a friend who I hold very dear to my heart who was one of the only people to give me a sense of normalcy and comfort when my dad was on his last few days and then at his funeral. And part of that was the instinctive way she would know when I needed to just. Not be a grieving daughter for a few minutes. To get a small respite from the overwhelming hopelessness and sense of impending loss. To get a moment to breathe and gather my strength, because knowing I was never going to see my dad again, or hear his voice, or hold his hand was tearing me apart back then. Sometimes she'd talk to me about college drama, sometimes she'd introduce a new kpop video to me, sometimes she'd just ask me what I wanted to eat and take me to go have a meal with her. And sometimes there really just isn't anything else to say other than "I'm sorry." Nothing you say - nothing you can say - is going to ever, ever make this grief go away, and in most cases, it was better when people (especially those who couldn't really understand) didn't try.

And I think if you look at Fadel very closely, there's a moment of genuine surprise (Fadel wasn't expecting the subject change at all) and then... something that looks like fondness mixed with exhausted relief. Because I don't think Fadel was ready to talk about his parents yet. This was honesty he wasn't ready to give Style, mostly prompted because Style himself had willingly been so vulnerable that a part of Fadel wanted to reciprocate. But further down that path lies not only his darkest memories, but also the connection to the part of his life he is not willing to share with Style yet. So this subject change is a relief, it's a blessing, but it's also Style knowing when he shouldn't push any further with Fadel's fragile heart.

Which brings me back to how well the episode's theme of trust (both deserved and undeserved) was woven in this episode. This is true on multiple levels and characters but I'm not even going to attempt to touch Kant in this post because... Lord, that is beyond me at the moment. Someone else needs to do that, pretty please, so I can reblog it and scream.

It starts, somewhat unexpectedly, with Fadel asking for entrance into the intimate spaces of Style's life.

So, this episode was not about Fadel's fear of his own feelings, desires, or even affection for Style - that appears to be fully addressed in episode 4. I think that's why we see Fadel be so physically affectionate and indulgent of Style in this episode. He's come to terms with his lust for Style's body (hence his comfort in initiating sex), he's accepted Style as his boyfriend and so can enjoy Style's playful teasing (still reluctantly, but Fadel is still an introvert even if he's mostly enjoying Style's rambunctious nature), and give into Style's (and Bison's and Kant's) cajoling with relatively little fuss.

He's even comfortable toying with the edges of revealing his darker and more sinister side by reminding Style implicitly about how violent Fadel has the potential to be. Recall that Fadel knows Style knows some of his capacity for violence; he just doesn't know how very thoroughly Style is aware of the full scale of this truth. It does help that Style evidences no actual fear and, in fact, looks positively euphoric. Like, buddy, pal, dearest one... please control yourself.

And yet something very, very telling is the way the show makes it a point to depict Fadel very deliberately getting drunk during the double date. Even before the date has started, Fadel looks to be about half a beer in and we see him constantly drinking, drinking, drinking during the whole date. From the conversation about trust he has with Style while Kant and Bison are being off key and adorable about it, to after Kant leaves and Bison gets worried. And we've seen Fadel cope with emotional and mental distress with alcohol before, so we know that Fadel is internally fighting some kind of very intense battle even as he is also very clearly enjoying moments with Style on this date (most notably when they're dancing by the bowling lanes and when Style asks him to go home with him).

So here's my take: rather than being about love, this is about Fadel fighting to hold onto his own philosophy on relationships and trust. Because as much as I do believe Fadel believes he's telling the truth when he tells Style that 100% trust is "impossible", I think it's clear that's not what he wants.

What he wants is to finish this last job so that the only thing he can't be honest about with Style will finally stop being a factor in his life. What he wants is to fully and completely reciprocate the openness Style seems to be giving Fadel. What he wants is to switch off his brain and let his heart lead for once, to stop fighting a battle he has no desire to win anymore, only he can't. Trust (not love) is Fadel's final frontier, and one which he can't quite give up in spite of himself.

Which is why I think Fadel intentionally gets himself drunk here. Because he wants to let his guard down around Style. He wants to open himself fully, he wants to "lay himself bare" for Style, he wants Style to know the full truth and accept him anyway - and he gets so close, but can't quite get there - because he doesn't know that Style already has.

When Style says this, Fadel thinks it's empty words, not knowing that Style has long passed the bar Fadel thinks is insurmountable. And just like Style was able to offer safety and reassurance to the vulnerability Fadel was showing in episode 4, Style instinctively gets to the core of Fadel's darkest fears again:

Style: One day, I'll be your 100%.

This isn't (just) a promise that Style will wear Fadel's stubbornness down, or that Style will be worthy of Fadel's 100% (which, already, has me in tears, ngl). Beyond that, this is Style promising Fadel isn't ruined for this; that it isn't too late, that whatever hurts and wounds Fadel has can be made whole again. That the kind of honest and all-encompassing and unconditional trust which Fadel says is impossible can, in fact, be his. That Fadel still has the capacity to trust and be trusted the way he so desperately, painfully longs for.

I know a lot of people have said Style in this episode is writing cheques he has no ability to honour, but I think it's more layered than that. Because in a very significant and profound way, Style is wholly deserving of Fadel's trust. Because in all the ways that Fadel has ever known he should want, Style actually IS worthy of his trust. Style knows the truth Fadel is hiding, knows what this man is capable of, knows the danger of being in his arms, knows the likely nonexistent future Fadel has to offer him -- and wants him anyway. Style is a man who would stare into Fadel’s darkness and reach out first. Strip away the complication of Kant being blackmailed and dragging Style into his mission, and Style is literally perfect for Fadel. He is exactly what Fadel wants (and possibly has wanted for a very long time). He is, in fact, exactly what Fadel needs to ever experience anything beyond the shadow of a life he's had so far.

But oh, the cruel narrative means that Style is also, simultaneously, painfully undeserving of Fadel's trust; and this is something Style is very much aware of. I think that's why he's trying so very hard to be worthy in all the other ways he can be. Style's awareness of what Fadel is hiding enables Style to (counterintuitively) be completely honest about his feelings for and about Fadel even as he cannot reveal his motivations. So he gives Fadel as much honesty as he can: offers the vulnerability of his own pain and hurts; the comfort of his true understanding and acceptance.

And just as Fadel's vulnerability in the abandoned factory was met with Style choosing a form of physical connection that prioritised Fadel's pleasure (it's made very clear that Style is jerking Fadel off and that all his focus in that moment was on Fadel, not his own pleasure), so too is this moment met with Style very intentionally choosing to worship Fadel's body with all the tenderness and genuine emotional weight that Style wanted Fadel to have in their first time in the storeroom.

Because, crucially, this was Style giving Fadel the chance to lay himself at least physically bare. This is the closest either of them can get to full honesty with the secrets they both are keeping. It's why Style tries so very hard to show the care and adoration and genuine feelings he has for Fadel. Why he makes sure that the vulnerability of Fadel getting himself as drunk and as relaxed and as trusting as Fadel can allow himself to be is tied only to gentleness and tenderness and pleasure.

Because Style actually knows that Fadel can't (and shouldn't) trust him in the way Fadel truly wishes to.

And as much as I believe that Style genuinely means this from the bottom of his heart, the horrifying full truth is that it is Style that has the metaphorical knife hovering over Fadel's chest. He is the one with the capacity to actually give Fadel a new scar that would truly matter. He is, in fact, the only one Fadel wants to fully trust -- and this, along with Style's compromised heart, makes it so that the circumstances will doom them both.

[lethologicaee]

are u familiar with kyle rayner…i think u drawing him would actually drive me insane

yes vaguely... i will see about getting a sketch done for you!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"What do you mean their name isn't Beef?"

(for @moondal514)

[54625]

"Have you no more memories?"

I am made of memories.

"Speak, then."

[piritos03]

Vi in Arcane Season 2

More info from the Annecy Festival and the meme that inspired me:

[dianagj-art]

Patreon updates!

I finaly finished the animation I was missing and it's up on patreon for everyone on the Comic Early Access and the Animation tier!

Also! A post with all the chapter is available for solo purchase for the few ones that asked for it

[virulent-scum]

Ghoulcy enjoyers, we feast. This is based on a head cannon post by @pigandpepper. Cooper recites multiple literary references during the show, and Lucy is schooled in classical literature, no doubt partially by Hank. It’s only a matter of time before Cooper gets a taste of his own medicine, aka Lucy being a big lit nerd, just like him.

[nenan]

Leiya photographed by Erika Kamano for Cult* Magazine Tokyo

[candyheartedchy]

@palettepainter I edited Daffy out of the screenshot and then just added Bella.