Ouaghhhh So Far I Am Obsessed With Every Single One Of Your Takes...begging For Some Insight On The Way

ouaghhhh so far i am obsessed with every single one of your takes...begging for some insight on the way you see evan 🤲

this makes me all tingly I am so glad you like them!!

this is what I have to offer

( i’m literally writing this in heaven on earth ( a botanic garden i travelled an hour to go to ) and i wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else to ramble about my dear and beloved evan. )

evan grew up in a huge manor, with no supervision, and an overwhelming sense of curiosity. he had a journal in which he kept all his discoveries and an anatomy book with sketches and annotations all over. since he was a child he valued people very strictly and was certain to be superior to everyone except for perhaps pandora. he is odd and strange and fatally mesmerising, people want, need, to look at him, but they can’t. he is pale and sickly looking and entirely graceful but absolutely terrifying to people around him. they say there is something about him that is corruptive to the core, and maybe they’re right, perhaps they would say even more if they knew of his relationship with his sister and his thoughts about the dead. 

Evan loves his mind, he loves the thoughts he has, the thoughts he can have, he loves the capacities it offers him and he feeds off himself, because of that he had never felt the need to associate himself with people other than his twin, her touches feel like his own, what they do it’s both for each other and for themselves, he knows that’s it’s morbid and depraved and perverted but it reflected who they are and who they can be without anyone’s aid. 

i also think evan must have had necrophilic tendencies, a subtle desire he had always had, there is something about the glacial beauty death offers that appeals to him, i feeling of possession, entitlement to the pleasure he might feel, maybe it’s the aloneness it offers, they are two but he is alone to witness, to see ( a fear of vulnerability ? corpses aren’t sentient therefore they offer no judgment). i think it’s due to the fact he was so isolated growing up that connection and intimacy are repulsive ( even if i think he does feel intimate with the corpses in a strange way ). 

i have this weird impression that his emotions are voluntarily dramatic, they are meant to serve as a spectacle, to impression his thoughts that are just as expressive. his anger especially is particularly theatrical, it’s intended to leave an impression and pass a message through. i feel like he would orchestrate public and humiliating/degrading acts of revenge and cause lifetime debilitations while remaining unaffected, not even amused, because when the world is his canvas you don’t need any more space to fill. the way he behaves with people is entirely based on his own twisted logic, he doesn’t hold grudges, he holds debts. 

he loves blood, the divine comedy, german literature, vintage medical tools, insects, control, the thought of cannibalism ( he would hate to be voluntarily sick ), headaches ( they calm the fluctuating thoughts in his head ), his dainty sophisticated clothes, his blond hair, silver jewellery, perfumes, the moonlit night, skeletons when they’re yellow and unattended to, the idea of devotion and human worship, homer ( im convinced he has the ancient greek version that he struggles to read but will never admit to it ),latin, old musical instruments ( when he can play them ), his family manor, clocks. 

she’s maniacal, she’s mad, she’s monstrous. she lost her moral compass and the better half of her sanity someplace between her blurred-out childhood and her sister’s abandonment. her teeth are as sharp as her knives, her smile is just as deadly. she is ruled by her desires, primarily: to be desired. she craves power and glory and opulence, and she idolises the one man who represents all this to her, the one man who can give this to her. she’s devoted and diabolical, and there’s no hope left for her. no one holds a candle out for her anymore. she’s not included in anyone’s prayers. she’s been lost down her dark, dark path, and yet she’s never been happier. she’s overwhelmingly content in her life of lunacy and servitude. she’s not scared or helpless or ‘misunderstood’, she’s simply downright evil. she found sanctuary in her insanity, and it’s cruel to take that away.

Girls (the people in the forest) hate when you serve it girl (wide eye stare, covered in mud and bug bites, playing in the river, messy hair, torn up clothes)

I don't need anything from anyone

there is still time. there is still time. until your bones are in the fucking ground there is still time.

And xenodora

outing myself as a shipper of the original ships (jily, dorlene, wolfstar)