#its kind of incredible to read

[theindefinitearticle]

I've been reading the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and I am obsessed with John Watson's nameless offscreen wife. She exists purely because Watson is a successful and Normal man of ??? age and thus he ought to have a wife of some sort.

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[n00talie]

Enter Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect, age thirteen.

reread The Mysterious Study of Doctor Sex recently and had to draw baby sleuths Cam and Pal ♥︎

[shrimpler]

i’ve never so violently wanted the entire world to Look At This Thing as i do with the silt verses

it’s truly one of my favorite fictional works like. ever. and i’m constantly fighting the urge to grab everyone i see by the shoulders and start shaking them while aggressively begging them to listen to it because what else do i do with myself after experiencing something like this

[thepringlesofblood]

anyone else having to go through fhjy at a snail's pace bc every time there's a teacher-student interaction (even the positive ones!) you want to set something on fire because of how much you hate high school and american academic culture and it throws you back to the Bad Old Days of actually being in high school, but also you really like fantasy high and you really like the characters and their story and the players and the way they're exploring & critiquing the US school system and basically everything about the show but actually watching it makes your brain explode?

[angelpuns]

Me looking at the super long definitely TMI diary-type vent post in my drafts: haha yeah you're gonna live there forever until I delete you <3

[ceramicbeetle]

i kind of hate to say it because i feel like i'll get pushback for it,,, but i kind of feel like if you're going to be making informational posts about autism online you do need to be reading actual autism research and literature. at least some of the times. like you can't just make things up and then present them as fact.

[wormthing]

shingo ::-]

[louwhose]

Happy Pi Day! Or... is it pie day? White day?

Whatever, today is something and I'm celebrating whatever it is with this ship I'm far too obsessed with for how little screentime they have.

[sukifoof]

i think im just gonna start blocking people that engage in flowey age discourse <3 im not in the fandom for petty drama about nothing im here for analysis and art and its really irritating to be looking for art and all there is is arguments. i love uty dearly but the sudden uptick in pointless arguments regarding floweys character is infuriating. why can't we talk about how well hes written and that hes an extremely good example of ptsd why must we argue. if u disagree with something block and move on dont act like children

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

anyone else think it's insane that folie a deux -- which literally means "the shared delusions of two"-- opens with "I'm coming apart at the seams/Pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams"

[mechieonu]

my favorite interpretation of deathpuss atm is the one where puss is a manwhore and death is oblivious

[princekirijo]

Well that happened. That was a DLC.

[good-beanswrites]

A Fuuta + Tears drabble for @erimnar, featuring Mahiru :D Thank you for the request!! It was really fun to write out some thoughts I've been having about the irony in Fuuta's crime... It takes place sometime after Haruka's T2 verdict but before Fuuta's.

Mahiru always prided herself in her friendly disposition, even if it was what had landed her here in the first place. She would never turn away someone in need. It would break her heart to ignore someone when she could help, even if they had never gotten along with her to this point. Even if they were the type to shun her help, anyway. Even if they were a total asshole who drove her up the wall most days. 

She steeled herself before entering Fuuta’s cell.

The two had never gotten along during the first trial. (Then again, Mahiru was learning that getting along with someone meant little once she was labeled with a verdict.) She’d managed to hold a few more conversations with Fuuta than usual, but he still proved poor company. In all honesty, she would have continued leaving him to his self-isolation if it weren’t for the sniffling she could hear through the bars.

“Hello?” Following a gentle knock on the door, she wheeled herself inside.

She figured things must be really bad if he didn’t even yell as she let herself in. He simply lifted his head from where he was hunched in the corner. Then he dropped it again, red hair falling over his face. Tears fell into his lap from his left eye. His breath hitched now and then.

He looked… defeated.

Mahiru tried to hide her surprise. The last thing he needed was someone gaping at his pain. “I can go get Shidou. I’m sure he has --”

“No.” 

He returned to sniffling without elaborating. Mahiru folded her hands in her lap. If he was hurting that much, she didn’t think curling in on himself like that was doing any favors to his bruised and fractured chest. But maybe the real issue was his eye. She couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. She was about to make another offer for help when he spoke. It was so soft she almost missed it.

“What… have I done…?”

She blinked. “Fuuta?”

He looked up at her. He was difficult to read. It wasn’t as defeated as she’d originally thought. He appeared angry, like usual, but it was layered with a new desperation. Horror. Confusion.

“How could I do this? Me? I never thought... I never meant to... Fuck!”

His fists clutched at the restraints on his uniform. In an instant, Mahiru realized his tears weren’t from any physical agony.

His voice broke. “I was supposed to be a hero, you know? All my life, that’s all I wanted to be. I was supposed to help people. I wanted to… this wasn’t supposed to…” He made a strangled sound. “What have I done?”

Mahiru instinctively reached down to touch his arm. He flinched.

“I don’t-” he hiccuped “-don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.” She had to stifle the tears that had sprung to her own eyes -- she was the type to cry easily when others did. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, either.”

“It’s more than that!” His body shuddered. “I wanted to be the one that people looked to for help. I wanted to clean up all those scumbags, one at a time. Make the world better. I knew I wasn’t cut out for anything else -- I’d never make it as anything in this society. But I thought, online… I really thought… I could still be a hero…”

He sank his head into his hands. Mahiru got the sense he wasn’t actually expecting any response. He probably could care less if it were her beside him, or anyone else, or no one at all. But she would help. That's what she did. 

“Fuuta… you haven’t given up, have you?” 

He stayed silent.

“You stood up from Yuno, after her interrogation,” she said. “You reprimanded me and Kazui for taking the situation too lightly, and not leading the other prisoners. You’ve spoken a lot about escape plans.” She didn’t mention that they had yet to sound possible. “Your conversations with Amane have kept her spirits up. At least, I think so… You’ve kept an eye on Haruka to make sure he’s safe. And I heard you yelling at Es about what happened to me, even if it wasn’t their fault.” 

She smiled gently. She knew his explosive rant in the corridor the other day had been more out of anger than love. Still, thinking of it always made her heart flutter a bit. Fuuta would’ve made a horrendous love interest from the romance novels she’d been reading, but at least he knew how to stand up for a woman like one.

“So what? Get the point, I don't give a shit.” 

Horrendous, see?

Mahiru sighed, keeping her expression kind. “We all have done horrible things. I’m not saying it’s okay. But in here, you have been a hero. So please, you can’t stop now.”

He let out a single bitter sound -- something caught between a laugh and a choke -- before he resumed his crying. Shaking, sobbing breaths filled the cell. 

Mahiru’s face fell.

"Ah... I'm sorry."

With that, she wheeled herself outside. Fuuta had given up. And once again, she’d said too much. She only wanted to show him kindness. To tell him how much she cared. To remind him of the good that was still going on. She should know by now that her love only made things worse. It was best that she left so quickly. No need to endanger him, as she’d endangered others before. She shouldn’t put anyone else at risk.

“Hey -- !”

She whipped her head around. Fuuta was standing outside. His cheeks still shone with tears, but he clenched his fists in determination.

“I’m not giving up, you hear? I’m not that weak!” His expression was wild. He looked ready to fight. Mahiru knew he was, right now. “I’m not fucking giving up on us!”

[prettyinpunk]

when you turn out the lights...

for LOML @killedbythegroove ☀️