#genuinely inexcusable

[basicallykiyotaka]

My favourite thing to do: talk about Endeavor

My least favourite thing to do: explain why I like Endeavor

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

tbh I think a large amount of the reason people got away with being weird as shit towards minors in the mcyt fandom is like just homophobia. like with tommy, if a sixteen year old girl had a twenty one year old guy she met online “joke” about her dating her adult friend, masturbating, and having oral sex, having her say that she loved him in private chats, and repeatedly mentioning how she’s technically legal like he'd get the fucking cops called on him, but bc tommy was a guy it was just haha funny bc gay! they wouldn’t actually be creepy bc they’re not gay that’s silly! ignoring the fact that sexual harassment can happen regardless of orientation. like genuinely i'm honestly surprised there’s less creeps there considering how accepted it was to borderline state you wanted to fuck a sixteen year old with a massive power gap who's inherently incentivised to keep friendly relations with you and play it off as a joke. like do i think anything bad happened? no, but the fact that actual predators could have done literal grooming tactics and get brushed off by both ccs and audience- bc all of these things Can be a part of grooming, they’re not here bc grooming also requires Intention and the scary part is that it’s a matter of luck no one Had That Intention- bc haha they’re both boys isn’t that funny it can’t be anything serious or concerning they’re just joking bc they wouldn’t really be creeps they’re both boys! like if there was a predator in that situation the children in those groups were already being sexualised constantly as a “joke” the space was and still is ridiculously unsafe for underage content creators as well as fans. all it could have took was one creep and no one would even bat an eye.

[boypussydilf]

god i do love princess bubblegum so much. she’s great. she is the best. she does TRULY, GENUINELY, VERY MESSED UP THINGS sometimes and isn’t that AWESOME! and she considers herself in the right while also knowing things she’s doing are wrong! she cares not about Doing The Right Thing, but about Doing The Right Thing For Her People. she feels justified in going to any lengths as long as it is in service of caring for and protecting her citizens. and she has a messed up idea of what is even right for them! it’s not like she interferes in every little part of their lives, but she has based the way she makes candy people off the Magically Lobotomized Versions Of Her Family, so that they won’t go against her or try to undermine what she wants! she loves them as her people, and she loves them as her children, and she makes them “subservient dummies” and laughs at them when they take issue with how she runs things.

and of course she’s like that. if i was the sole caretaker of my little brother since i was basically a baby and had to raise myself until i got so lonely and tired of having no one i could connect with in the way i needed that i made myself a family and then that family basically tried to kill me while i was basically ten and i had to go back to raising myself alone without them for the rest of my life. i would also probably have kind of a weird and messed up outlook and approach to, like, everything

[placeinthisworld]

Mila kunis and Ashton Kutcher really uhhhh really fucked up huh

[vounoura]

I’ve been thinking abt this for a bit

If you can get past all the very explicit and shameless anti-indigenous racism and narrative (like it’s. actually extremely offensive and has otherwise ruined my ability to replay it which is a shame), Pillars of Eternity is good. I don’t think it’s absolutely amazing (it is VERY clunky, and the writing is…well, it was written by people who like to describe things in the longest ways possible) or anything, but if you go in with the context that Pillars 1 was made for people who are REALLY nostalgic abt the OG Baldur’s Gate’s then it’s a fairly enjoyable experience.

Deadfire’s writing isn’t as good as the first’s (and tbh, I wasn’t inclined to trust Obsidian’s take on a narrative abt the horrors of colonialism after the unmitigated disaster that was the Glanfathans) imo but if the gameplay of the first is an issue for it try skipping to Deadfire, it’s massively improved and way less clunky.

[bruciewayne]

the single greatest defence for fanfiction writing outside of creating for the sake of art and passion and such is that now im in a stem university in a stem course and consistently my section has been the best written in a group report

[courtiers]

the way being competent at writing will make people ignore the fact you used the word rumpled three times in 3k words.

[kaboom--bitch]

Considering you started this with "you don't actually have the disorder you wish you had and professionals tell you this. So, you're anti-psych. But.", stating that we're prof dx'd with DID first even though that should be irrelevant, but it seems like an important point to you.

Psych-abuse is real, and it harms so, SO many people. People with trauma, and vulnerable young people too--the people you're very concerned about here. But not just them, anyone who doesn't fit into their boxes can get harmed. If you don't go along with the majority of psychologists/psychiatrists and how they want to treat you, you get dismissed and discharged from their care and left in the dust at best, or you get medication or psych wards forced on you.

It's not about endos feeling sad that they can't get a diagnosis (which they don't even WANT--unless they have other DID symptoms in which case then they... have DID, who would've thought--because they KNOW they're non disordered), it's about real, actual dehumanization and abuse. They deny your ability to not take medication, or to change meds even if you're getting side effects. They involuntarily lock you in a psych ward, take your belongings and restrict your ability to even have the ability to return home. They dismiss your feelings about the way you're being treated because they are the ones with the textbook, so they don't care if it hurts you. They don't treat you like a person, they treat you like a client they have to fix. They don't want to listen about what you want out of your treatment, they do it how they want--and that is not how someone's personal medical treatment should go.

And sure, a lot of individual psychologists can be kind, caring, and understanding. They can help a whole lot! It's people's choice to try therapy and if they get something good out of it, that's amazing. But having a bad psychologist who sends you to a psych ward can absolutely destroy your whole life, that simple. Therapy can be good, but it can also end absolutely horribly, because that's how the psych system works. They care about diagnosing you and then "fixing" you, whatever that means to THEM, distinctly NOT what you want to be fixed.

Claiming that generational trauma "at its core" is caused by people not seeking therapy is also ridiculous. Can therapy help? Absolutely, for some or even possibly a lot of cases. But in the end, not being an abusive jackass is a decision the person themselves has to make. People who don't go to therapy can choose not to be abusive. They can choose not to hurt their kids independant of therapy. It's honestly an insult to be so generalising and simplifying with it. Abusers sometimes are unknowing in their own abusive tendencies, and therapy can help them see what actions are harmful. But acting like people are just lost and need to be guided by a therapist to not be abusive in a majority of cases is ridiculous and insulting. Abuse happens even when people are seeing a psychologist. You might feel that way about your experience, but do NOT generalise the experience of living in a family with generational trauma just because you see it one way.

It's harmful to be visibly anti-psych online because "think about the young traumatized people!!"? Well maybe think about the victims of abuse that are speaking up against what the psychiatry system is fundamentally. And maybe don't try to silence literal trauma victims if you claim to care about them so much. You just seem to want to cover up the abuse, maybe think on that a bit before claiming that we're doing damage by simply speaking up.

i see anti-psych getting thrown around a lot in endogenic spaces.

I get it. You don't actually have the disorder you wish you had and professionals tell you this. So, you're anti-psych. But.

Being Anti-Psych and perpetuating that online is Not Okay.

You see there's this thing called generational trauma, and that at its core usually is a scenario where someone has trauma and mental health issues and instead of going to therapy, they have children. And then the cycle just continues and continues.

The only way to break this cycle is therapy, and because generational trauma THRIVES on anti-psych mentalities, many of the people who want to break the cycle struggle.

To give a personal anecdote, my mother hates therapy - she has never been to therapy and she will never. she also questions anyone who seeks out therapy (including myself) and tries to convince them they are better off without it. my mother also has extensive trauma and mental health issues and as a result my mother has been one of my main abusers throughout my life.

Therapy is NOT always easy or straightforward I GET IT

there is really good therapists, but there still is therapists that aren't good. by the time i realized that i needed a proper therapist i had gone through extensive trauma and my therapist was severely under qualified to deal with me and ended up crying in front of me after a particular rough session.

i was put off from therapy for a really long while after that and probably would have called myself "anti-psych"

but then my mental health issues got so bad i ended up in a psych ward and i was forced to have a therapist. and through her, i have healed SO incredibly much. i can see now how incredibly important therapy is to individuals with trauma but also to the loved ones of those with trauma. i can see how therapy really does stop the cycle of generational trauma and abuse.

Encouraging others online to be anti-psych especially in a space with vulnerable young people with trauma is inexcusable.

it is so fucking harmful and i hate you all who do it i hate you SO FUCKING MUCH

[librarycards]

something about most of the americans who post about the 'shitty educational system making them think there are no cities in mexico' or something is that, on a deep level, they enjoy & revel in their ignorance, their incuriosity. they share the same bombastic and self-congratulatory anti-intellectualism as any trump-voting uncle, except enjoy couching it in the auspices of [white] queerness & disability.

i am white (more or less) and queer and disabled & attended shitty schools in de facto segregated areas, i have encountered these ppl all my life, and what has always struck me as bizarre and embarrassing is the sheer ease with which alternate forms of info were accessible. all you needed was an internet connection, which we almost uniformly had. i found information about whiteness & intersectionality & colonialism & empire as a preteen through blogs and tumblr and other social media, and when i got older, followed my curiosity to actual books on these topics and more. it did not require anything exceptional, or even a higher education.

people know these resources are there. they know how to find them, in no more clicks than it takes to get to their favorite show or fanfic or whatever. but the discomfort that encountering new info requires, the embrace of the unknown, the genuine intellectual & emotional engagement with difference and friction, is something that they deep down know that "we" (in the global north/west) have the privilege to refuse. and there is a horrible "pleasure" in that refusal, that knowledge that one is permited to know nothing and still have the world at one's feet. it is despicable and inexcusable, and i'm glad it is getting vocally called out.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀(𝐑)𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑

summary: ever since dating sebek, it seems you have not just landed yourself a boyfriend but also a personal knight

pairings: sebek x gn! reader

warnings: just fluff

a/n: a small blurb to air my feelings for the croc while i wait for my wrists to get better, so i can tackle bigger projects; i wanted to make this a hc-style post but i think i unlearned how to do that

twisted wonderland masterlist

Sebek is your knight in shining armour and, well, he definitely gives the job his utmost dedication. In terms of priorities, you’re right up there with Malleus, Lilia and Silver. Not that he’d ever -willingly- tell you that out loud, but it’s pretty obvious to everyone with eyes.

In terms of gentlemanliness, he brings out the big guns. True to textbook and the teachings of Lilia and Baur, Sebek will carry your bag(s) or textbooks without accepting much protest. He’s a personal guard for the great Malleus-sama, a weight as little as this is trivial to him! It’s best to just accept his service with a smile and a thanks.

The same goes for him holding doors open for you or protecting your head with his hand when you bend down to pick something up. While Sebek usually takes some time to read the room or grasp the context of a conversation at hand, he is very attentive when it comes to you. Not only does he take note of your preferences, he also makes sure you don’t forget or neglect to eat and drink enough. Given his training as a knight, he’s well acquainted with a healthy diet and keeps an eye on if you meet the recommended nutrient intake too. And Seven help the person who has the gall to actually disrespect you, Sebek will raise hell, his weapon and his volume if that’s what it takes to defend you.

By spending enough time with you, he also memorises your routines, almost without actually intending to. Sebek also listens to you intently, taking some matters more seriously than you even, and checks in on you throughout the day, especially when you told him about certain appointments. When it comes to any changes in your mental health, he might not pick up on it as fast as on any physical injuries, but you bet he is just as protective about it. His attempts to cheer you up might be a little clumsy, but they’re so genuine it already makes you feel better just through his effort alone. If he could physically fight your doubts and insecurities, you can bet that he would without hesitation.

At the end of the day, Sebek would try to help you with nearly everything to the best of his abilities, even if what you’re asking of him is outside of his strengths. You want to wear your hair a certain way? He has never tried to do anyone’s hair before but he will try to recreate the tutorial you have shown him, even if his fingers shake. Sure, he has never repotted a plant or taken care of one for longer periods of time, but just tell him what to do and he will follow your instructions. With his earnestness and determination to learn and his drive to help you, his attempts turn out at least decent in the majority of cases. Just don’t tease him when he doesn’t get it quite right the first time around.

For Sebek, his behaviour goes without saying. He’s your partner, of course he wants to support you in any way he can and to consider your welfare and feelings in what he does. Anything else would be ludicrous and inexcusable for someone of his standing. If you, however, show him any kind of affection in return for his attentiveness, he becomes utterly bashful. Tell him how much you appreciate his help or give him a grateful kiss on the cheek and watch him turn beet red as he stutters through his next sentence. In the literal heat of the moment, Sebek might blurt out something nonsensical but please know that your endorsement means everything to him and warms his heart. It may also boost his ego juuuuuust a smidge~

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twisted wonderland: @scint1llat3 @honehbee42 @savanaclaw1996

[pseudowho]

Hanahaki

Nanami art by Osusiudon, picture edit by @pseudowho

Being in love with you was meant to feel good...so why was it killing Nanami Kento?

For more on the (purely fictional) Hanahaki Disease, please see here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease

I've altered things *just a little* to suit the story

Warnings: 18+, gore, smut, MDNI, unrequited love, angst, longing, hurt/comfort, cum as cure, TW anxiety, depression and low self-esteem

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"You've got to tell her. Nanami. You've got to tell--"

"--and burden her with this? No. It's inexcusable. This is...this is mine to bear."

Shoko stabbed her cigarette out with considerable force, driven almost to tears by this--

"--impossible man, Nanami Kento. You have options. We can fix this surgically, it won't be easy, but it will get rid of--"

"--my feelings for her," Kento interrupted, his voice brackish with pain, twisting in his lungs, all gnarls and knots and need. He felt the pain beginning to crescendo, doubled over on Shoko's surgery couch. If he groaned, he knew he would be choked in blossoms and blood. A fine mist of sweat collected on Kento's forehead, one arm wrapped around his belly as his lungs began to fill and burn.

Shoko was already lighting another cigarette, hands trembling, and snipped at Kento; "And what of it? She doesn't love you back, that's why you're in this mess."

Hearing the truth aloud was too much to bear, and Kento writhed, one strong hand gripping his throat as he coughed, choking, lungs and throat so full and packed and itching and--

--in one burning gasp, a congealed spatter of cherry blossom leaves and clotting blood left Kento's mouth at force, slapping into the surgery couch and dripping, viscous and sloppy, to the floor. Kento staggered, one knee collapsing, clinging to the couch as he retched and coughed, bent in miserable agony.

Shoko dragged on her cigarette, her back to Nanami, voice tight as she spoke; "So...you mean to die like this, then?"

Head swimming with blinding pain, feeling his lungs begin to fill again, Kento closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to the couch.

All he saw was you. Your smile, effervescent with joy. Your small touches to his arms, all just tactile innocence. Your laughter, ringing down corridors as the students lolloped out of your classroom. He thought of you and all you were and all you could be, with or without him.

Kento smiled, a bloody kiss at the corner of his lips.

"There are worse ways to die."

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Kento wasn't sure what was worse; the excruciating pain rooted in his chest, spreading longer and deeper through his torso with each passing day...or the certain knowledge that you were in love with someone else.

It was inevitable, of course; he was exciting, extroverted; Kento was dour and introspective. He was powerful, the strongest; Kento may never surpass 1st Grade, let alone achieve a domain. He would fawn, simper, flatter; Kento loved quietly.

Kento was tense in the staffroom, the petals building in his lungs so much faster when you were near. He needed to leave, needing to hide this from you, but he was twisted with the exquisite double-edged sword of the need to hear your laughter and the need to escape.

Satoru bent over beside you, whispering in your ear as you giggled, slapping him on the arm. Kento felt a nasty, burning envy as your eyes twinkled up at Gojo. He had not realised his eyes had strayed from his newspaper until you looked behind yourself, your cheeks flushing faintly as you felt Kento's gaze on you, of course I'm interrupting a private moment, idiot Kento you fucking idiot--

"Ken--...Nanami, are you alright? You look...pale." The genuine concern in your voice, the kindness you treated Kento with even though he was an insufferable bore, far too morose for pleasant company, made Kento stiffen, his chin jutted outwards.

Satoru looked disappointed as you turned from him, heading over to Kento, reaching out to put a hand to his forehead and shit, I'm done for if she lays a finger on me--

Kento flicked a hand upwards, batting you away as you reached for him, shoulders bunched with the urgency that you should never know about this, it's not her fault, she deserves to be happy--

"I am fine. I'm a grown man, I'd prefer not to be coddled." Kento felt his vision blacken at the edges with the need to cough, chest clawing, drowning, and he stood to the tune of your feet stepping quickly backwards, stumbling against the coffee table and I can't catch her because then I'd have to touch her hold her look at her and I'll die she'll never be mine god I want her to be mine I want her--

Satoru stepped behind you, long pale hands on your shoulders, stabilising you and shooting a scolding look at Kento's fast retreating shoulders. Your eyes were downcast, lips curled in and pressed together, hands clasped and twisting.

"Don't worry about it," Kento heard Satoru reassure you as he stepped out of the staffroom, "he's always been pretty standoffish, you did nothing wrong."

Kento made it to the end of the corridor before wrenching open a window, leaning out, coughing bursts of blood-spray-blossom. He blacked out for a moment as he leaned against the frame, scarlet and petals at the side of his mouth.

She doesn't deserve this she doesn't deserve any of this why are you like this why are you so fucking unlikeable Nanami you piece of--

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Kento wasn't sure when it started...this obsession. It wasn't like him, to become so hyperfixated.

Was it when you started teaching at the school? You had baked, keen to make a good first impression. You had taken particular notice of Kento, your keen eyes astute and reading him, laughing such genuine laughter, the. laughing harder at the surprise on Kento's face that you found his sardonic fatalism funny, but nobody finds that funny--

Was it the love, the protection, the fierce defending shield you offered the children? It was beautiful. Kento saw your rage and your sickened rants at the diseased establishment and god I could listen to her all day she's wonderful what a mind what passion she needs someone with the authority to make her vision bloom not some low-ranked cannon fodder destined to die in battle--

Was it when he and you fought together for the first time? It was so easy. You were smart, there was no ego, no competition, so seamless together and suddenly the work felt so light instead of the fucking drudgery I normally go through and we've even got time for me to take her out for dinner maybe I should ask her out to dinner maybe she'll say yes but it's too soon and she's just being friendly and she'd feel so obliged she deserves so much better she's a hidden gem I can't be the only one to have noticed--

Kento wasn't, of course. He just wished it wasn't Gojo, of all people, to have taken notice. As much as I can't stand the guy I know he wants life to be better for the kids too so of course you'd appreciate him and he's sweet with the kids too and no woman has ever said no to him and I lost my chance I should have asked her out when I had the chance I should have asked you fucking coward Nanami you jealous little bitch--

Satoru made short work of occupying your lunch breaks. He was effusive, open in his adoration. Not shy in declaring his enthusiasm for you. Kento saw you trying to battle an enormous bouquet into your car, and you caught his eye, blushing at having been caught, looking so awkward. You had laughed, eyes downcast again as Kento offered you a gentle smile. You shrugged at Kento, unsure what to say.

"I should tell him, don't you think?"

Kento felt his heart sink at your admission, it's only natural she should confess to Satoru when he's welcomed her in with open arms he's made himself pretty clear it makes it easier for her in fact and god I'd just be happy if she's happy really I just wish it was me instead and--

"Yes," Kento said, tight and clipped, missing the way your shoulders dropped in resignation, "it's best to be honest about these things. I find it's less stress on everyone if nobody misreads the situation."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat; "Yeah. We wouldn't...wouldn't want that." Your hand hovered over your door as Kento turned his back on you and what we could have had and that's dead and buried now so just walk away and you can get over it Nanami it's not like you deserved that anyway--

"Have...have a good evening, Ke--...Nanami. Stay safe."

You too stay safe I love you I love you and I swear to god if he ever hurts you I'll rend him limb from limb I'll make him wish he'd never been bor--

"Good evening."

Walking away had gutted Kento alive.

First came the blood. Then came the petals.

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Kento could not make his mission, the day after the staffroom. He could barely make it out of bed, waking, again, to petals and blood, rust-red and congealed all over his pillows. He changed the sheets again, gasping for air, passing out for a moment upon the mattress, with one hand in each corner of the sheets, exhausted.

This lovesickness, this diabolical sweet agony...was the best death Kento could possibly hope for. Sat on the shower floor, naked, chest heaving as the water tumbled over him, Kento scraped pink crumpled petals from the blocked shower drain as the water began to build up around him.

Lying on the sofa, in just his boxers, Kento shivered in pain. He could barely towel himself dry, and he knew he must stay this way, now, too weak to make it back to his room for clothes. Is today the day? Will they find me today? If I die god I haven't seen her I need to see her before I die even if she doesn't know I'd like to hear her laugh just one more--

The doorbell rang. Kento huffed, coughing a horrible clumped mess of petals and blood into an awaiting bowl. His breath caught, no oxygen making its way to his limbs and he folded like wet cardboard onto the sofa, gasping, fingers clawing at his chest.

A timid knock. A voice. The gentle swing of a hinge.

"Kento? I'm coming in. Ijichi gave me your spare-- oh my god-- Kento-- shit, I'm calling an ambulan--"

Kento reached towards the door as you ran to him, fuck Ijichi you had absolutely no right idiot now she knows she fucking knows--

Kento burned as you knelt by him, hands splayed across his chest, his back, eyes feverish as you stared at him. Stared at the bowl full of blood and--

"...blossom? Kento, is this-- what's happening to you? God, you need Shoko...Kento? Stay with me please, I can't lose you--"

"--it's none of your damn business, get your hands off me!"

Kento had snarled at you, face and hands contorted, clearly in agony. Your face crumpled, biting back a retort, keeping yourself calm despite the venom and gore spitting from him. You took a single deep breath, in...out.

"It is my business. I know you hate me. I know you can't stand me being near you, and I don't feel that way about you-- quite the opposite-- but it is my business when I find you dying alone at home, so if you can stop being such a stubborn prick for just five minutes, I can get you into the car and get you some help."

Kento was near tears, cornered, a feral, wounded animal. Hate you I don't hate you I just can't have your hands on me like this when it's all I'd ever get and I want to hold you day and night and--

"Fuck, you have no idea," Kento groaned, sniffing into his forearm, forehead pressed to the sofa. You blinked down at him once, then, face fixed firmly, you slung his arm over your shoulders, heaving him up.

"Nope. Probably not. But why would I? You don't tell me anything. And why should you?" You snipped, and Kento lurched against you, who somehow held him up against you despite his weight.

"Move. Now. I've got blankets in the car."

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Kento lay alone, in his hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. The gentle hiss of oxygen from his mask kept him company.

You had asked him in the car, so many times, who his unrequited love was. He was steadfast in his silent refusal. You had read of this sordid disease, but never seen it in person. And on Nanami Kento, of all people, any woman loved by him would surely leap at the chance, I mean I would, if only he didn't fucking hate me, I'm not good enough for him anyway--

"Who is it, Shoko?" You whispered, holding yourself by the elbows as you leaned against an examination table. Watching Kento fade away before you through the little window, filled you with a thousand slivers of ice. His visceral dislike for you, his urgent need to push you away...no. You could not allow yourself to love him as you might have done.

Shoko frowned at you, trying to read you. She looked through the window, too, tapping her fingers on a clipboard in thought.

"You have no idea, do you?" Shoko mused aloud, soft, almost wistful.

You felt bile rise in your throat; "I don't need that from you, too, that's what he said. You don't have to treat me like I'm some fucking idiot--"

"You."

You faltered, your hand slipping off the examination couch you leaned back against. You looked up at Shoko, jaw dropped.

"...I--I'm sorry, what did you--"

"--you. It's you. He loves you."

You burst out laughing, a single harsh sound.

"Shoko. He can't stand me. Any time I'm near him, he just--"

"He just what? He clams up? Shuts you out? Doesn't let himself get any closer?" You nodded slowly at Shoko, still dumbfounded.

Shoko continued; "Nanami isn't the kind of guy to put himself first. Especially now he knows how Gojo feels about y--"

"Gojo?" You cried, fingers pressed to your temples, trying to hold back tears, "All this time I've thought I'm not good enough for Nanami-fucking-Kento, and he's held himself back because he thinks I want Gojo?"

Shoko paused, halfway to lighting her cigarette, drooping as her mouth dropped open. She looked to Kento, and back at you. Shoko pushed the cigarette back into its packet, tapping the box briskly on the table.

"You've got one chance to tell him," she snipped, "before I knock him out and take him for surgery."

Shoko moved to step out of the room, as you felt hope squirm in your belly. She gripped the doorframe as she moved to step out, white knuckled, not looking back at you.

"It won't go away until--...well. You do have to love him. Biblically."

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You would wait until you had dropped him into bed, you thought, hands tense on the steering wheel. You were lying to yourself, you knew, your admission ready to burst out of you in furious blooms.

Kento was silent beside you, coughing occasionally into a handkerchief, less and less stained with blood and blossoms now. He was ashamed of himself for looking so pathetic and at least I can just die at home in peace now.

It took everything you had to keep your eyes ahead, instead of on him, still dressed in nothing but boxers and a blanket. You swallowed thickly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Terse, cold. You felt irritation bubble in your chest.

"Stop lying, Kento." He tensed beside you, at his name on your lips, so sweet, I could listen to it all night, I wonder what she'd sound like when she's calling it out around me--

Huffing, he turned to look out the window, "A little better. It's none of your concer--"

"I love you." Kento felt himself shoot through with warmth. The cloying petals in his chest began to shrivel. He was speechless, dark-circled eyes wide as he turned to stare at you. Your hands trembled, turning into the driveway, pulling the handbrake, switching off the engine.

"I always have. From the moment I met you, I knew. But you knew better apparently and you pushed me away and now you're so sick and I--I--"

You sniffled once, steeling yourself before stepping out of the car and round to Kento's door, opening it. You reached in, arms round Kento's chest and heaving him up, amazed at how strong you could be for him when he needed you. Kento did not fight. He remained placid, mussed, still smelling bed-soft and coppery as you moved him towards his door, unlocking it and taking him inside.

Kento had never felt so stupid. So ashamed. So unworthy. He had done this to himself, and for what? He replayed months and months of him and you, flashing like reels through his mind's eye, reframing all of your interactions, your discomfort with Gojo's advances, your pain at Kento's biting distance, you fucking idiot Kento this is all your fault like all the people you lose are your own fucking fault--

Kento felt himself dropped into bed, with no memory of the journey from doorway to bedroom. He looked up at you, truly looking at you for the first time in months, drinking in the soft acceptance in your eyes, how his pain mirrored in yours exactly.

You blinked first, a few tears slipping out as you stepped away, opening Kento's wardrobe and pulling out a shirt. Kento gulped, turning his head on the pillow as you began to undress.

"--don't do this just for me, you shouldn't feel obliged to stay--"

"Shut up. Idiot. You stupid, stupid man. I'm livid at you and I can do what I want, and you should shut up and do as you're told for once."

You could have insulted Kento until the moon waxed and waned a dozen times, and it would still have felt like falling into a bed of feathers, hearing nothing but I love you, Kento I love you, I always did, I love you Kento--

Kento's breath caught in his chest, still painful, but somehow easing, as he felt your weight settle into bed next to him. He tensed again, frozen to your warmth, for having held you at arms length for so long. You rolled, switching the lamp off. You faced him, in the dark. You could hear only the light rattling of his chest.

"Just let me stay. I...need to keep you safe. Even if I just watch you sleep."

Kento's face crumpled, teeth bared and gritted as he pulled a hand over his eyes. Gratefulness and relief stole away his voice. Quiet, nestled together in the dark, you heard the gentle susurrus of a hand sliding across the sheets. You jumped to feel the back of Kento's fingers brush across your belly, graze over your chest and down your arm, until your hand was plaited with his.

"Do you...do you mean it?" You pressed your eyes closed, so fragile from the weight of the day's admissions and revelations. Biting your lips with tears on your lash line, you nodded, Kento squeezing your hand, focused on your silhouette.

You remembered meeting Kento for the first time, the beautiful rush of gold in your vision, as you panned past his introversion and discovered treasure. You remembered reading his every move, the uncertainty of each other, the timid dance. You saw the questions in his eyes, never asked. You remembered his seeping coldness after the force of Gojo's overbearing affection. You remembered the distance, the sniping hatred-- only, it wasn't. It wasn't ever hatred. Just grief. Loneliness. Worthlessness.

Kento could only hold back his wretched coughing for so long, and you watched in horror as he forced himself onto all fours, back and chest rippling in agony as a burst of blossoms sputtered past his lips...only, less bloody now. Almost as if he was getting better but not quite--

Shoko's words came back to you, a ghost; "...you do have to love him. Biblically." You felt yourself shiver from shoulders to toes as you thought of Kento this way, taking you. All those nights, where you had tried to think of anyone but him, biting into the pillow as you fingers slid, wet and practiced, over your aching little bud. Only, for his voice, thoughts of him inside you, rooting through you, taking you over the edge into sweet oblivion...every time.

Loving him had become so involuntary, you thought, as he slumped into your arms, blond hair splayed across pink blossoms in the moonlight, exhausted. Despite his suffering, he looked ethereal like this, arm splayed above his downy soft hair, eyes feverish in the gloom. You felt this obsession grow, no longer pruned and restrained, now that you felt his urgent need for you.

Quaking, you lay yourself beside Kento, drawing your leg over him so your soft inner thigh rested on his groin. You felt him twitch, a little closeness only making his pain worse, the full weight of a fertile Spring wracking his lungs. Your fingertips grazed over his belly, and you felt him shudder beneath you.

"What--" Kento rasped, swallowing back the thick taste of blood, "...what are you...?" He stopped as you shushed him gently, one hand rested on his thick chest as you nosed the side of his neck, the shell of his ear.

"Let me help you." You felt Kento tremble beneath you, his hand coming up to clasp your thigh tighter over his groin. Kento overrode his desperation, shaking his head with a gulp, feeling pathetic and weak and she deserves so much better and--

"Not like this," he choked out, his chest heavy and cloying, "you deserve--"

"We've already wasted so much time, convinced we weren't good enough for each other. I deserve a life with you. And we can't do that if you're dead."

Kento broke, lost in the ecstasy of your soft kisses against his jaw, tongue flicking out to taste the soft sweat tang of him. Your fingers rose up to cup his face, turning him to you. The total certainty in your eyes as you leaned in to press your lips to his, made the air hit Kento's lungs with such blissful relief.

Kento felt bursts of strength with every scrap of love you gave him, enough to tangle his fingers into your hair, and swipe his tongue into your open mouth. Your little squeak of surprise ran through his belly, hot and needy, his cock throbbing in his boxers. Kento kissed you, hungry for relief, needing escalation as the petals began to clog his lungs again.

"Please, touch me," he begged, shameless in his wish to live, "--hurts--please..." Feeling his teeth nip into your lip, pushy and desperate, you allowed Kento to grasp your hand and trail it down over the honey-blond trail of hair on his belly, to cup over his rigid cock. He groaned with relief as you cupped his length, squeezing him until a drop of pre-cum seeped through the front of his boxers.

"--more, I-- I need more--" Kento twisted under your hand, squirming and prickling with the itching joy of your tongue tracing his ear, whispering soft reassurances as he moaned, bucking up into your hand, masturbating him through the fabric of his boxers.

You were mesmerised, obsessed with the effect you had on him. Your pussy throbbed, neglected, edging yourself by pleasuring Kento instead. You found yourself squeezing his cock harder, hungry for his panting breaths, his furrowed brow, the way his fingers clawed at you for release.

Climbing above him on the bed, straddling his hips, you slipped his boxers down and reached into his bedside drawer. His cock, heavy, thick, wet with pre-cum, settled on his belly, twitching as you released him. Your hand settled on a bottle of lube, filling your hand with this white, sticky, cum-like fluid, warming it on your palm.

Kento huffed, chest heaving again as he coughed, a spray of blossom landing on his chest and belly, sticking to the sweat misting his abs. You removed your underwear with your clean hand, resting your throbbing cunt on his balls. Ready to beg again, fingers sinking into the fat of your thighs with bruising force, Kento hissed as your lube-wet hand squeezed down the length of his cock, coating him in glossy slick.

The feeling of his cock, velvet-on-steel, thick in your hand, was a drug. Kento moaned, bucking up into the wet little plaps of your fist, as your hand stroked and squeezed the length of him. Kento felt himself squirm, head tossing and turning as he crumpled the pillow up in one strong forearm, biting into the fabric and blossoms there, frowning, moaning, gasping.

"--fffuuuck yes-- hnnng-- just like that, don't stop please don't stop--"

You leaned down, sinking your teeth into the broad plane of his pec, smiling in spite of the desperation of the situation. Your hand sped up, determined that the first time Kento spent himself, would be just that-- the first time. You would be his lover and his healer.

"I love you," you whispered against the rolling muscles of his chest, "I love you, and I'm staying, and I'll make you better again, I promise..."

Kento twitched, jerking with the force of the stimulation, his hand drifting to cup around yours, the other tugging the roots of his own hair. He moaned, long and stilted, writhing and begging.

"--god I love you-- your mouth, in your mouth please--cumming--"

Kento's seed spattered into your hand and across your tongue, your mouth not fast enough to reach his pulsing cock. Kento panted, short, twitching pants as he watched himself cum uncontrollably, his cum dripping down your cheeks, your eyelashes. Slowing down your strokes, squeezing the last drops of seed as Kento twitched and moaned, overstimulated, you were surprised to feel him remain hard in your hand.

With breathless grunts, and new colour in his cheeks, Kento reached down, pulling you on top of him, chest to chest as he held you, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your hair. You felt him grip you by the hips, slipping them downwards, your belly sliding on the cum dripping across his abdomen. Tilting your chin to look you up at him, Kento looked down at you, nose stroking against yours.

"...all this time?" He asked, so desperate for the reassurance. You nodded, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance, straddling him so his cockhead pressed inside you.

"All this time...just crushing how I felt," you insisted. Kento was lost in the heat of your pussy clenching around his tip, bucking upwards involuntarily, begging to be invited in. Forehead pressed against his chest, his arms locked behind you, embracing you to him, you gasped as you rolled your hips, sinking him inside you, flush to your core.

You moaned, high-pitched and mewling. You felt yourself clenching, hot and wet around his twitching cock; you were not used to feeling so full, having abstained for so long, with no new suitor ever holding a candle to Kento. You felt Kento cough weakly, a smatter of shrivelled bloodless blossoms colouring your hair.

"--I've got you, I've got you--...shhh, I-- fuck you feel even better than I imagined-- I can't-- can't hold back, I'm--"

Kento's hips rolled up into you, both barely moving, entwined together in the soft silent dark. Belly pressed against his, Kento's cock curled hard against the front of your soft spongy walls, jolting insistently over the plush sensitive spot that made him feel belly-deep. Meeting his thrusts with your own, Kento growled out his sighs, chest rumbling beneath you.

"--worth it-- was all worth it for this...for you, I-- ...was so scared-- wanted to die in your bed-- so lonely--" Kento poured himself out to you, weakened and vulnerable inside you, his cockhead kissing your cervix as he kissed away the tears on your cheeks. The closer he got to his peak, the pain in his chest subsided, and he felt stronger, better, more alive than he had in months.

Kento rolled, flipping you over without warning, and knelt above you, grasping your hips so his cock stayed flush within you. Wrenching his pillow down the bed, he jammed it under the small of your back, panting, overtaken by something otherworldly as he stroked one hand down from your sternum to your mound.

"--selfish...I've been selfish," he berated himself, his long fingers slipping between your folds to find your throbbing little bud. You jolted, a high keening whimper leaving you as he rutted into your angled pussy, rolling your clit delicately between his forefinger and thumb. Kento glowered down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and you shivered under his cool gaze; suddenly, the man who had captured your heart all those months ago; "let's fix that, shall we?"

Kento wasn't sure how he summoned the strength to make love to you like this, his hips rolling with devastatingly slow precision, and you twisted beneath him, feeling every ridge of his bulbous tip as he watched where you were joined, pulling out almost completely before sliding all the way back, making you whimper and squirm.

"--together," Kento insisted, controlling your upcoming orgasm, his touches as accurate as your own fingers within yourself, reading you as you begged and moaned your way to orgasm. Kento fucked into you, hips stuttering, sweating and messy, desperate for you to cum so I can cum too and this whole fucking ordeal can be over god she's so gorgeous how did I get so lucky--

You trembled and whimpered, hands reached down and clutching Kento's thighs, feeling light as a petal on the wind as you came. Eyes closed, face relaxed with this heady, euphoric bliss, you swore you smelled the faint sweet-blossom-nectar of Spring wash over you, there and gone in the space between heartbeats.

Kento felt the weight of the world slip from his shoulders, suddenly whole and complete again, deep and emptying himself inside you with a shudder, your name on his lips; "--...so well--good girl, the best fucking medicine...thank you, thank you--"

Kento floated back down to earth, divine beneath the power being bestowed back into him. His chest cleared, supernatural by nature, his breaths now smooth and swelling. You stared up at him, eyes glazed, dazed by how you had moved him from death's door to demigod, in just minutes.

"I swear-- I promise you-- I'll be the best I can be for you-- the very best--"

"Idiot. You always were. You just...never saw yourself like I see you."

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii can you do morgie/ hook (seperate) and the reader is like a goody two shoes and like really shy and they notice her because shes friends with ella and bridget

Morgie le Fay’s head perked up much like that of a dog’s upon noting the third person trailing being Bridget and Ella; you.

A Shy goody two shoes with no voice to speak of, mouse like more then just name but in mannerisms and personality and more, but despite all of this and barely even knowing your name Morgie was finding himself more and more intrigued as he watched you cross the courtyard with your head held down from where he stood.

Morgie knew where his loyalties lie but his heart was in search for someone else whose words of validation, encroachment and praise were as genuine and as sweet as your shy nature. His mother -Morgana Le Fay- wasn’t always there and could be often times be forgetful that he was her actual son, rather than someone she could just blame for all her misdeeds and mistakes in magic and life alike; Much like all villainous parents who walked through life without much of a comfort in their own devious lives, their actions are as inexcusable as their own parental style was.

You could feel his eyes pierce their stare into your head as you quickly glanced at him before becoming flustered upon seeing him smile at you as you ducked your head even further down, much to Bridget’s and Ella’s concern. Morgie felt like he could watch you for days on end and never grow bored, he wondered what your voice would sound like, your laugh, your expressive eyes and so much more to the point that he hasn’t realised that Hook had caught him in the act.

‘The shy ones caught your eye have they?’ Hook asks.

‘What? No. More like bothering me with their…quietness.’ Morgie tried to cover up but failed miserably upon seeing Hook’s unchanged expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. Morgie visibly deflates when he knows the gig was up for him.

‘Okay so maybe I was looking at them,’ Morgie admits but was quick to rectify himself when he saw Hook’s brow being to raise, ‘but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I like them. I was just…looking. Nothing more nothing less.’ He adds in a halfhearted laugh that quickly died in his throat shortly afterwards.

‘I’ve got nothing against you being with them Morgie,’ Hook begins, ‘but you know I can’t say the same for the others.’ He adds as he glances at you before looking back at his friend who had his feelings evident within his expressive hazel eyes. ‘So tread carefully if you are to follow that big old heart of yours. After all I can only act like I didn’t see anything for so long.’ Hook concluded as he pats Morgie on the shoulder twice encouragingly before leaving his friend to keep staring at you like an infatuated fool.

‘I will.’ Morgie says to himself as he finds himself filled with a new found determination.

Hook

Didn’t take long to notice your shy demeanour from where he stood in the academy’s vast garden. He has seen you in the company of Ella and Bridget on more than one unpleasant occasion, but here you were in the company of only yourself on a stone bench amidst flowers in full bloom.

You looked picturesque in that moment like a renaissance painting crafted by the most skilful pair of hands in existence. However he wasn’t one to speak this thought aloud to anyone, founding himself more content with withholding such a thought in his chest until he died.

You were quite as a mouse, shy as a one too as you often hide yourself in the background to avoid being seen but James always managed to seek you out without issue, something he saw as an problem considering who you were friends with and the crew whom he held his loyalty towards; he remembers how often you avoid confrontation with him as you’d always side step him when he got too close or even evaded being in the same room as him all the while ducking your head and holding your books close to your chest that they might as well mould into your very skin.

However with neither of your friends in sight hook decided to forgo everything and seat himself next to you just as you closed the book you had took out from the library, holding it close to your chest as he had expected of you to do.

‘All alone are you little mouse?’ Hook asks rhetorically as he smirks at your wide eyed expression. ‘Your friends ran off elsewhere then to be with you have they?’

‘Well I don’t see yours nearby either.’ You said softly as you found yourself easily entranced by his eyes, his hair, right down to his cocky smirk. It wouldn’t have been too bad falling for him had he not been a villain, however live makes things difficult to navigate when you’ve been told how to view things by the adults in your life, rather then allow you to formulate your own opinions.

Hook raised his brow in surprise at your quip, he wasn’t expecting someone as meek as you to have held back such a sharp tongue this entire time. ‘Struck a never did I?’ He says as he leans in closer to you, watching as you leaned away from him but only by so much before you’d fall off the stone bench completely, what you didn’t know was that hook wouldn’t let you fall but wouldn’t let you in on that until it was called for.

‘No, i just know you shouldn’t be seen with a goofy two shoes like me, it’ll ruin your standing in your own group.’ You tell him with slightly more confidence in your own voice but still being shy in meeting his observant eyes, trying to remember everything that Bridget and Ella have told you and start standing your ground.

‘And you think you wouldn’t be crucified by your own friends for being seen with me either?’ Hook replied as you both looked at each other in silence, knowing that both of you were right but didn’t want to agree to saying such a ridiculous thing. Yes your friends would throughly question you on why he was so close to you as would his own, but in this moment that didn’t matter as you continued to stare the other down as conflicting feelings clashed within yourselves.

‘Perhaps,’ you began shyly as you were the first to look away from hook and down at your lap, all the while hook kept his eyes firmly on you and you only, drinking you all in while he could, memorising everything about you and keeping it locked within his heart. ‘But at least mine would be more understanding and see reason.’ You add as you got the courage to stand up from the bench and inside the academy, leaving hook to mull over what just happened and sigh as he remembers what Morgie told him earlier.

‘You look at them with the most adoring gaze while yet cursing out their name and everything they stand for, you hate to like them but like them too much to actually hate them.’

[modawg]

it low-key pisses me off that nico can’t get over this like hero complex pedestal he has percy on like even after his crush is over and done with he’s still over here “maybe bob didn’t call y’all bc he thought you wouldn’t answer” or whatever tf like boy be so fr we talking abt the boy who’s fatal flaw is literally loyalty?? the boy who literally took on the great prophecy once he found out someone might die so YOUR dumbass wouldn’t be the one to do so??

why is every mistake that percy makes suddenly inexcusable

i get it the lack of trust prolly comes from the trauma of losing bianca but he didn’t even promise that he’d actually bring her back he said he would TRY and he DID bro was 14 and on a quest he wasn’t even supposed to be on why not be pissed at artemis or the hunters who actually put bianca on the fucking mission or thalia who was also on the mission or annabeth who caused the whole mission to begin with

like i genuinely just never understood that like i understand nico is a kid and there are reasons to look up to percy yes but bro has known him for going on 3-4 years when are we gonna realise he is infact also a kid who is also in a shitty situation with also shitty odds who has also lost people and just wants to live his life

it’s even better bc i believe nicos fatal flaw is holding grudges ? it’s so good i hate it like please just be friends i beg you

[oblisker]

i don’t wanna get into this discourse (on fiddleford’s end) but i find it very diminishing and honestly a little disturbing to me personally to call ford stupid for being abused. he grew up in a household with an extremely abusive father who had EXTREME expectations for him and his academic career, he was bullied and outcasted his whole life and grew to depend upon his intelligence as what determined his self worth….he’s not stupid for falling for bill’s flattery. he was mentally starved and wanted someone to compensate for all of his insecurities. someone with a history of living in an abusive household will often fall in with other abusers, not noticing the pattern

verdict: sure, it might seem stupid to us—but from his perspective? it’s like holding a diamond up to your face when you’ve been in poverty your whole life and asking you not to take it

I'm tired of pretending that I'm okay with ford being an absolute asshole towards fiddleford and basically abusing him.

first of all, yes, it's not ford's fault that he was manipulated (doubtful tbh) and abused by bill, but that doesn't give him the right to be a jerk who closes his eyes on his friend's deepest traumas. the traumas fiddleford got only because stanford completely ignored his warning and got fidds involved into bunch of shit. like his monster hunting which wasn't even the reason fiddleford went to gravity falls in the first place. he was there to help ford build the portal, not to be a part of ford's anomaly quest. and when fiddleford spoke out against it he was ignored because ford doesn't give a shit about anyone else but himself or his muse. fiddleford got traumatized physically and mentally so deeply that in the need to be able to sleep at night peacefully he completely destroyed his mind to the state that even bill was scared to be in there. and what stanford did? he (the one who couldn't care less about fidds warning him about gremoblin) critiqued fiddleford for using the memory gun and didn't even bother to apologize or say that he's sorry in the journal. god, what am I saying, he didn't even took fiddleford to the hospital after fiddleford feel from the sky through the roof of a fucking barn with a dozen of poisonous quills in his body AND A BROKEN ARM. ford described what happened to fidds in the journal, said he "took him home for a treatment" and the next two paragraphs on the other page is "good news the hyperdrive works" LIKE IS THAT THE ONLY THING YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT THE HELL??? "despite our fortune, I have become worried about my assistant... I myself have survived many monster attacks without trauma, but perhaps F is more sensitive that I realized". no shit sherlock, who would've imagine that seeing your worst nightmares and being poisoned can leave a mark on your mental state. sure it's just fiddleford, he's just overreacting because he's "sensitive"))) /src

ford was ignoring fiddleford's concerns all the fucking time that mcgucket was there with him, he took a superstitious and religious guy with anxiety into the forest with real ass monsters who's no one but ford is used to see. fiddleford was warning stanford about shifty and got kidnapped with his identity stolen by the shapeshifter because ford didn't listen. well, at least this time stanford had bothered to apologize for another traumatic event- ah no, next thing ford said is that when the portal is finished all the traumas fiddleford had been through were "worth it". ford just finds ways to make everything worse

we all know that fiddleford has an addictive personality and that the memory gun is the biggest example of that. what we don't talk enough about is that ford at some point decided that sleeping is for losers, but didn't stop at himself and made fiddleford drink 13 fucking cups of coffee, not allowing him to sleep, what in the future made fiddleford a caffeine addict. ford is not only an overworking idiot who gladly damages his own health, no! he wants fiddleford to be the same and quote "gets frustrated" when fiddleford cares not only about his own, but their both basic needs. fiddleford had to work on the portal, get in the trouble with monsters because of ford, but also babysit this manchild to prevent him collapsing from exhaustion (which is more impossible than building a giant portal into the multiverse)

and here we are, the portal testing. once again (and as always) fiddleford did warned ford about everything. fiddleford was working without breaks for days to make sure if the portal will work, and when he found the flaws, he wrote a whole fucking thesis paper, putting all ford's research into a solid work (not taking even smallest credit even tho he was the one to build the portal. when fiddleford had his own theory in the university, ford helped him to only proof that fidds wasn't going crazy by checking the calculations and ford bothered to take the credit for the whole theory, but fiddleford who was a part and a victim of this monumental theory of weirdness didn't took it because he unlike ford doesn't care only about fame). but what did stanford do? he assumed that fiddleford wanted to steal his fucking fame and backstab him. ford didn't even bother to look at something fiddleford was making for three days without resting to make sure that portal won't hurt anyone in the town and that ford won't end up with empty hand if the portal was indeed a lost cause. stanford coldly dismissed fiddleford like they weren't friends, said that he doesn't really waiting fiddleford for the test of the device that fiddleford did built, and even knowing that the portal was dangerous fiddleford chose to come for the test

and then fiddleford got in the portal and it was the biggest traumatic event for him. it was the breaking point for him from which he couldn't stop using the memory gun. it damaged him so much, that he turned from that bright 30-y.o. man into the familiar to us old man mcgucket in the span of two years. his life was ruined for another 30 years, a half of his life he was a mad lonely guy who lived in the junkyard. the man who could've become someone like steve jobs but much better if only he didn't go to help stanford. his family could've been full, tate could have his father. the incident with the portal was the moment of no return for fiddleford, and what did stanford do?

when fiddleford got sucked in the portal, he thought only about the success of his work, that for fidds it was "a remarkable opportunity to confirm or deny the theory" (which he already did with his pre-test research). he didn't think that it was dangerous on the other side, that the portal wouldn't just disintegrate fidds on atoms. and when stanford saw him speaking in a non-human way, shaking and twitching in shock like fiddleford did after the gremoblin incident, ford decided it was nothing. when fiddleford warned him about the apocalypse because he was in the portal and saw it with his own eyes, ford, as always, didn't listen. he didn't just not care about fidds' condition — he diminished everything fiddleford was feeling and everything he witnessed only because it didn't fit in ford's believes which were based just on bill's words (and for stanford it's not something new to belittle things related to fiddleford. he wasn't taking fidds' dream of creating a portable computer seriously, believing that his weirdness theory was much more important)

and after this, stanford insults fiddleford and his family in the journal. he says that he doesn't regret their partnership (it's not really a partnership if stanford didn't count fiddleford as an equal) and friendship breaking up. "to think I considered him a friend!" I doubt he ever did. stanford doesn't know shit about being a good friend (or even a decent person) to someone who sacrificed everything for him. who did put his life aside to be with ford, who cared enough to stay despite stanford again and again putting him in danger, constantly waving him away and feeling no remorse for that. fiddleford was breaking himself for this guy, he canonically was going through "I am nobody to ford if I don't build stuff for him" (and in the end this is exactly what happened). fiddleford didn't tell ford most of his fears and concerns because he didn't want to bother him. fidds was constantly scared and kept in inside because he wanted to be a "better partner". "if I have an anxiety, I will pop anxiety pills", "I'm gonna get through this". and then he didn't

fiddleford was abused by stanford. he was to stanford that ford was to bill, in some ways even worse. it's fucking wild that fiddleford did forgive ford after 30 years of a neverending madness nightmare with his mind being destroyed so much as like it was the earth in the times of the dinosaurs after being hit by the meteorite. fiddleford had lost literally everything, he wasn't even himself for a half of his life and still fidds found the strength to forgive someone who is responsible for it and who used him with regular emotional neglect. and you know what? fuck this. ford would never forgive bill and fiddleford had every right to stay mad at stanford. ford needed to be stuck in the portal to get his head out of the ass and by that time there were only crumbs of someone who fiddleford once was

fiddauthor and billford both are about abuse and toxic relationships. it's up to you what you like to ship, but we need to acknowledge the fact that fiddauthor isn't some fluffy healthy thing where both are happy. fiddleford was never happy and stanford didn't care about fiddleford and his feelings. they made each other worse and ford ruined fidds' life. THIS is the real fiddauthor

[riddlerosehearts]

god i love how the twst novel characterizes trey and particularly what it does with his enabling of riddle's tyranny, how it uses this aspect of trey as a parallel to yuuya's intense anxiety and fear of confrontation and uses both of their characters to emphasize the consequences of avoiding conflict, and how you have to overcome that fear in order to do what's right, it's so fascinating to me and since i'm sure there are a lot of fans who haven't read the novel i wanna talk about it.

see, yuuya is written as someone who is so, so afraid of conflict that he doesn't let himself get close to anyone or even have any hobbies--he says he doesn't want to risk fighting with friends over a difference of opinion, and he's also afraid of finding something he's so passionate about that he doesn't want to let go of it, and having to fight to protect it. he practically avoids really living because he's just too scared of having to deal with any potential confrontation. throughout the novel there are times when yuuya wants to tell ace and deuce to stop fighting but can't get himself to say anything, and times when they ask him for his opinion but he avoids giving it so he won't have to upset anyone by picking a side. even when ace starts telling riddle off and calling him a tyrant at the unbirthday party, and everyone else is saying that ace is wrong, yuuya just stands there and does nothing--he knows he should have his friend's back but he freezes up, too terrified to speak.

and then trey... this will probably get a little long, so i'll put it under a read more, but oh, trey.

in book 1 of the game, when riddle has some poor student collared for not wearing pink to feed the flamingos, he tells trey and cater to escort the student away and they both just say "yes housewarden" and do it. in the novel, we have this additional moment:

notice how trey does not say this is okay, but he also doesn't exactly say it isn't. he doesn't really share an opinion on the situation at all, he just says there's nothing he can do, and then thinks to himself that he can't afford to think about it, can't risk letting riddle be pushed over the edge.

this is when ace, deuce, yuu, and grim then come in to ask trey about his friendship with riddle. in the game, grim asks him why he hasn't told riddle off already, given that he's the older of the two, and trey states that he doesn't think the situation calls for it because "these sorts of strict rules are what created riddle". but in the novel, it's deuce who asks trey "i know you're the vice housewarden, but you're older than riddle, right? wouldn't the housewarden listen to his elder?", and the way trey's response goes is a little different, with grim saying he must be scared of riddle and trey once again (well, twice actually) saying that he can't do anything about the situation:

he tells the rest of the group all about how riddle's parents are famous magical healers, how his mother planned out every single aspect of his life for him, how he obeyed every rule she set and had his signature spell mastered by age 10, and how riddle genuinely believes that the enforcement of strict rules is a service to his dorm members and he sees the violation of those rules as an inexcusable offense. grim wonders why this is and yuuya realizes the following, which is also a perfect explanation of why trey believes that standing up to riddle about his overly strict attitude would be rejecting him: "if riddle accepts that rules can be broken, then that's basically a rejection of his own self. because he was created by rules".

in both the game and the novel, trey then mentions that he knows how hard riddle's life has been and says he just can't bring himself to hold riddle's way of doing things against him, to which ace responds by telling him "so it's YOUR fault riddle is like this". but in the novel, yuuya is surprised because he didn't think trey bore any responsibility, and trey's response to the question of "you always thought what his parents did to him was wrong, didn't you?" is described like this:

it's very similar to the various descriptions throughout the book of yuuya desperately wanting to speak up but being unable to get the words out whenever there's any sign of conflict. clearly trey, like yuuya, is afraid, not necessarily of riddle himself but of having to hurt his friend by telling him he's doing something wrong, and in the novel ace calls him out on that:

(the dialogue at this part of the game is largely the same, but the sentences between "that's pathetic" and "you guys are supposed to be friends" are brand new).

and then, trey's response, or lack thereof is very telling:

what ace says to trey here even prompts yuuya to apologize to ace for not standing up for him before, because he empathizes with trey. he understands trey's inability to stop riddle, his fear of rocking the boat, the desire to avoid causing a conflict and upsetting his friend no matter what else happens, because it's exactly what he's been afraid of for his whole life. and as a result yuuya feels ashamed of himself and believes that ace was right to push trey the way he did. in response, ace tells yuuya that it's okay for him to not want to force himself into fights because, unlike trey, at least yuuya will tell ace if he thinks he's wrong.

but that's not enough for yuuya, who decides that he has to finally, finally stand up for ace and deuce when riddle has them collared and everyone is cheering for riddle during the duel. he walks right through the crowd and tells riddle that he doesn't even care who's wrong or right, he just wants the fighting to stop. it's a simple thing, but it's such a difficult step for him to take.

for trey, we know how this goes--just like in the game, he intervenes when riddle summons rose bushes to attack ace, because seeing his friend almost become a murderer is where he draws the line. in the novel, he also tells riddle that if this doesn't stop he'll only end up more and more alone. he reaches his hand out to his friend and tries to urge him to calm down.

of course, none of this goes the way either of them expected, and in the novel cater tries to get yuuya to agree that they should run from the danger of fighting riddle, but neither he nor trey will yield. so all of our main heartslabyul boys and ramshackle join together to find a way to win. and right after trey uses his magic to save cater from riddle, we get this dialogue:

and while what trey says after riddle escapes from his overblot state is basically the same as it is in the game, i think the description of his actions here is lovely:

and it may seem like a simple thing, to just be honest with a friend, but it's such a big step for trey to finally take with riddle, after spending so much time enabling his harmful behavior out of an incredibly flawed sense of loyalty toward him.

in the end, yuuya realizes that his way of living, spending his life stubbornly avoiding confrontation, had kept him from being able to make friends. similarly trey being so afraid of upsetting riddle that he hid his true feelings and let him do whatever he wanted, kept him from being able to be a true friend to him. they both learn to finally be brave enough to take action and to be honest with themselves and others, but yuuya mainly needed to learn the value of standing up for your friends while trey had to learn how important it is to stand up to them when necessary.

yuuya also says, after ace and deuce call him stubborn and opinionated, that he may have just hated bending his own principles more than he wanted to have friends, which i find really interesting because essentially part of yuuya's arc is to stop avoiding forming relationships with others for the sake of his principles, because true friends will have each other's backs even if they don't always agree on everything. and then part of trey's arc is to stop bending his principles for the sake of his relationship with riddle, because true loyalty goes hand-in-hand with honesty. and while i feel like you could figure a lot of this out about trey just by reading between the lines a bit in-game, i love how the novel really brings it to the forefront by making their arcs parallel each other like this.

[kalinara]

So, I've been thinking a lot about that "he destroyed mine" line of Scott's in X-Factor. I'm stealing the scan from @rei-ismyname here, sorry!

So...here's the thing. It doesn't really work for me.

This is probably a surprise, since I'm one of the biggest Xavier haters that I know. If Xavier has no haters then I am dead, et cetera.

And as an incredibly biased Cyclops fan, I am always big on deconstructing their relationship and exactly what Xavier had done to him and how it plays into Scott as the man he is today.

But I really don't think that this is how Scott sees their relationship. Even at their worst.

The biggest issue, of course, is that Scott Summers is probably the ONE member of the Original Five that Xavier genuinely saved from a far worse situation that was never going to get better.

At the time that Xavier met Scott, the latter was being beaten, abused and used by a weapon by Jack Winters, a thug with telepathy and an unbreakable diamond form. Xavier got him out of there, and depending on the version that you're reading, even assisted him with KILLING Jack to save their lives.

Now, Jack was a thug. His power level is hard to judge in a few appearances, but he wasn't particularly intelligent. It's very probable that at some point, Scott would have gotten away.

But then there's Mr. Sinister. He ran the orphanage Scott escaped from, and unlike Jack, is undoubtedly a very powerful man. There's a reason that, in the timeline that Xavier dies early, Scott's working as Sinister's right hand man. (Albeit one who is eventually revealed to have his own, secretly altruistic agenda.)

If Sinister wanted Scott back, Jack Winters was NOT going to be an obstacle. And Scott, on his own, would have been easy pickings. Charles Xavier, though, has more than enough power, both psychically and materially, to protect this child.

Of course, this doesn't make him a saint. The fact that he, by his own admission, took this already abused child and decided to make him the vanguard of his child army is pretty inexcusable. Xavier only succeeds in being the best of Scott's terrible father figures because of the competition.

(I've mentioned before, but this context does make Scott's treatment of poor Laura Kinney in the 00s make perfect sense. They have, when you actually look at it, remarkably similar backstories. Xavier "helped" him by using him as a weapon for a good cause, so Scott's thinks he's doing the same thing for Laura. And it's, instead, incredibly fucked up.)

So anyway, I think Scott rightfully has a lot of things to be angry at Xavier about. Xavier used him, manipulated him, over and over again. At least as far as we can tell, he never got the poor kid any real help for any of his massive traumas.

But the line still bothers me.

Maybe it's an issue of semantics. "He destroyed mine!" seems to indicate that Scott had something good going on before Xavier got into the picture, that Xavier then ruined. As opposed to what generally tends to happen, which is that Scott's already in a terrible position that Xavier takes advantage of.

And to be honest, I'm not really sure when that would be.

AvX was fucked before Xavier got into the picture, and while killing Xavier gave everyone a reason to turn on Scott, I'm not sure they wouldn't have found some OTHER reason to turn on him anyway.

Scott's position in the Rosenberg run was pretty bleak all around. We do get to see the very end, when the X-Men finally return and have a happy reunion. But it seemed like Krakoa started right afterward, and for all its faults, Krakoa was a time when Scott got to be with his wife, and raise his son, and spend time with his brothers, daughter, and even implicitly his granddaughter.

And while Scott DID end up on trial for everything that Krakoa did, something he could reasonably be angry at the entire Council for, this was in the context of Krakoa's fall. And Xavier's betrayal came later.

Now, in Raid on Graymalkin, Scott was FURIOUS about the deaths on the ship whose name I can't remember. Now, we know that, per From the Ashes's Infinity Comic, Xavier had populated that ship with mindless clones. But we did see him telepathically force Scott to watch him do it, without any explanation, so he's pretty fucked up about it.

That makes sense to me. "He killed a lot of people!" is incorrect but makes sense. "He destroyed a lot of lives!" makes sense. "He did a lot of fucked up shit to me!" makes sense. "He destroyed mine!" really doesn't.

(It might for JEAN. While Xavier did initially help her out of that coma as a kid, everything else - getting her to join the X-Men, sending her into space, and so on...that could fit. So one possible wilder interpretation could be that Scott is channeling his wife at the moment? But I don't think she's as inclined to Summers family fisticuffs.)

I mean, it's a throwaway line in a comic that's already ending. It's perfectly feasible as just Scott being a bit incoherent, exacerbated by Xavier's weird telepathic virus effect. But I like overly dissecting things on a regular basis, so here we are.