#its difficult to genuinely mourn for someone you have no connection to

[scwirrel]

Slaps roof on 2021 MCYT fanart: this bad boy can fit so much nostalgia in it

[doumadono]

I apologise if this doesn't qualify for emergency requests.

Someone who I was close to passed away this week and its been difficult. I've barely been able to eat or sleep from stress. I'm wondering if I could request how Hantengus clones would deal with a AFAB partner going through this?

Thank you for your time, you're amazing for doing these requests

Hantengu Clones & grieving AFAB reader - headcanons

A/N: hello, dear Nonnie. I hope you're finding some comfort today, as much as you can during this difficult time. Please remember to allow yourself the necessary time to grieve. Don't rush through the process, instead, embrace the sorrow and give yourself the space and time you need to heal. Be gentle and kind to yourself throughout this journey of healing

MASTERLIST

Aizetsu's sorrowful nature is evident as he shares a profound emotional connection with them. When he witnesses their tears, he doesn't shy away; instead, he's ready to shed tears alongside them, demonstrating his deep understanding of their sorrow. Entering your room, he gently offers his presence to console them during their mourning period. Employing his sensitive side, he knows precisely what they need – a warm and comforting embrace. Drawing them close to his chest, he provides a safe space for them to let out your emotions, showing them that it's okay to express vulnerability and find solace in his presence.

Sekido's past actions have left him emotionally detached and struggling to comprehend the depth of human emotions. He finds it challenging to empathize with his them who are going through such a difficult time. When he observes their sadness, he becomes confused and frustrated. However, Sekido's attempts to connect with his significant other's emotions prove futile, and he finds himself growing angrier and resentful towards their feelings. He doesn't comprehend why their sorrow affects them so profoundly and reacts with frustration, even throwing tantrums due to his difficulty comprehending their human nature and emotions. While he might offer physical comfort, his inability to truly understand and empathize poses a significant challenge in providing the emotional support his significant other needs during this difficult time.

Karaku's understanding of grief enables him to provide genuine support to his significant other during their difficult time. He willingly offers to be a listening ear and a comforting presence whenever they need to reminisce or simply cry on his shoulder. Seeing them in pain pains him as well, so he strives to uplift their spirits and bring a smile to their face. Karaku, aware of the weight of grief his significant other carries, makes it his mission to bring moments of pleasure and distraction into their life. Understanding the importance of finding joy amidst sorrow, he plans thoughtful surprises and activities that allow them to momentarily escape from their pain. He understands that the pain may never completely vanish, but he believes that with time, they will find a way to cope and carry on.

Urogi prvides a safe and welcoming space where they can seek refuge during their difficult time. Understanding the healing power of joy, he gives them the freedom to choose anything they enjoy, wanting to see them smile even for a brief moment. Urogi's awkward yet heartfelt hugs and encouraging words serve as a reminder that they are not alone in their journey of healing. He reassures them that things will eventually get better, offering unwavering support and understanding. Urogi becomes a source of strength and light for his significant other during the dark days of grief. Through the simple act of sharing joy and laughter, he shows his significant other that happiness is still within reach, even amidst their sorrow.

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Weight - FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 21: Graves

Ao3

-

She’s not sure what compelled her to start this tradition. It began after learning the teaching of the conjurers in Gridania, that much she remembered. White magic, while not her cup of tea until after the Gyr Albania liberation, was a deeply powerful class. Not by magic, but by spirit.

Black mages could speak all they wished about the manipulation of aether, scholars, and summoners of their techniques to conjure spirits and aid. The White Mage was unique. It mattered just as much to understand yourself as well as all that connected with you to even manage a flicker of power. A zen she’d grappled with to truly master, coasting on the affinity she possessed of aetheric manipulation and amplification for too long until it finally clicked. It was a lense of awareness she could never forget once she achieved it, the weight of every action and reaction amplified. The bonds that existed between all were as healing as they could hurt.

The first graves she crafted, she could not even remember where, nor for whom. That was the purpose, in some way. Even if she did not know, all that would find the simple spike of stone or wood she embedded into the dirt would understand its meaning. A marker, a sign of once life. A spur-of-the-moment action, one that gained weight the more and more she did it.

Her first ones were certainly rough, slabs of rock and stacks of stone with a date slapped on and a little more. Mostly because she was unsure what to put. Eventually, as her skill with stonework improved, so did her markers after tragedy and loss. Flowers mostly, but occasionally birds or weapons would decorate the graves she left in her wake. It was the least she could do to mark the fallen that may not rest or have anyone to mourn them over wise.

It was a heavy duty, perhaps even a foolish one for her shoulder as the number of bodies would ever be endless, even well past her time. But she’d want someone to do the same for her, so she had to try. She’d be betraying herself if she didn’t. For the longest time, it was her only outlet for genuine kindness, the soft, aching kind that begged to bleed from her armor. She worried for a long time that this aspect made her selfish. With time, she knew this not to be the case. She was simply mourning the weight of a lost life, enemy and ally, and trying to provide a way for others to do the same.

There were those she made that were special, that she never forgot and often visited. Those to individuals through her adventure. There was one she had crafted of ice, letting her fingers blister and turn blue from ice enchanted not to melt, made for Ysale perched on the high cliffs of Azys Lla. There was a set of bloodied stones strewn around the royal menagerie. She knew Zenos would certainly get a burial, but habit had her leaving stones with a streak of her blood, knowing that whatever funeral he would get would not be one suited for him. Emet-selch was of black stone, pulled from the deepest depth she could manage. Lyse had aided her with Papalymo’s both so pained with grief, the burden of having to do it alone would have certainly broken the Warrior of Light.

As she cut stone, she could not help but wonder what her own grave would look like. What they would put on it? Would she even be buried where her body fell, or left in a mass grave amongst others? It always came to her that she would die young, thoughts of the future rarely reserved for herself. The longer the idea dwelled, the quicker a sense of dread rose, some unspoken fear that was difficult to articulate, like so many things.

One day, she may stop making graves for those that she didn’t know and may never receive them. Until then, she walked on, hoping that the time would come sooner than later.

[flowersonline24]

What to write on funeral flowers for family

Funeral flowers hold a special significance during times of loss. They serve as a heartfelt tribute to those we have loved and lost, offering comfort not only to families but also to friends who gather in remembrance. When selecting floral arrangements, the right words can elevate these beautiful gestures into something truly meaningful. Crafting the perfect message for funeral flowers can be challenging, especially when emotions run high. Whether you’re looking for traditional phrases or wish to express a more personalized sentiment, finding just the right expression is vital.

This guide will help you navigate this sensitive area with care and thoughtfulness—ensuring your messages resonate deeply while honoring your loved one’s memory beautifully. From etiquette tips to inspiring examples of condolence messages, let’s explore how you can convey your condolences through thoughtful flower messages that offer solace during such difficult moments.

The Importance of Funeral Flowers

Funeral flowers play a crucial role in commemorating lives. They offer a visual representation of love and respect for the deceased.

These arrangements can brighten somber occasions, providing comfort to grieving families. The beauty of fresh blooms serves as a reminder of life’s fragility and its moments of joy.

Flowers have cultural significance, often symbolizing hope, peace, or renewal. Different types convey various emotions—lilies signify purity, while roses express deep love.

When friends and family gather to honor someone’s memory, floral displays create an inviting atmosphere. They foster connection among those who are mourning together.

Moreover, funeral flowers convey messages that words sometimes cannot capture. In their vibrant colors and fragrant presence lies the ability to soothe hearts during difficult times.

Choosing the Right Words for Funeral Flower Messages

Selecting the right words for funeral flower messages can be challenging. It requires sensitivity and thoughtfulness, reflecting your relationship with the deceased.

Consider the recipient's feelings. A simple message of sympathy can convey your support profoundly. Phrases like “With deepest sympathy” or “In loving memory” are classic choices that resonate deeply.

Personal touches elevate a simple note. Mentioning a cherished memory or shared experience can make your message feel more heartfelt. For example, “We will always remember her laughter” adds warmth to traditional sentiments.

Avoid clichés if possible; they may sound insincere in such a delicate context. Instead, aim for authenticity—write from the heart.

Remember to keep it brief yet meaningful. Funeral flowers serve as visual tributes; let your words complement their beauty without overshadowing them.

Examples of Condolence Messages for Funeral Flowers

Finding the right words for funeral flowers can be challenging. It's an opportunity to express your sympathy and love in a meaningful way.

“Forever in our hearts” is a simple yet profound message that resonates deeply with many families.

You might also consider, “With heartfelt condolences,” which conveys empathy without being overly sentimental.

For those who shared special moments with the deceased, “Cherishing the memories we made together” highlights personal connections beautifully.

If you want to offer comfort, try writing, “May these flowers bring peace during this difficult time.”

A more spiritual touch could be reflected in messages like, “Rest in peace; your spirit will always shine brightly.”

Keep it genuine and sincere. Your heartfelt words on funeral flowers can provide solace amid grief and loss.

Traditional Versus Personalized Messages

When selecting messages for funeral flowers, it’s essential to consider the tone and relationship you had with the deceased. Traditional messages often include phrases like “With deepest sympathy” or “In loving memory.” These convey respect and are widely accepted in various cultures.

On the other hand, personalized messages offer a more intimate touch. Sharing a fond memory or a personal sentiment can resonate deeply with grieving family members. For instance, saying something like, “I will always cherish our laughter together” makes your message unique and heartfelt.

Balancing tradition with personalization allows you to express genuine feelings while respecting customs. Think about what would bring comfort to those left behind as they read your words on the floral tribute.

Etiquette for Writing on Funeral Flowers

When writing on funeral flowers, keep it brief and sincere. A short message is often more meaningful than a lengthy one.

Choose a respectful tone that reflects the relationship you had with the deceased. Personal touches can be comforting but avoid anything overly sentimental.

Consider using simple phrases like "With deepest sympathy" or "In loving memory." These convey your feelings without overwhelming those who are grieving.

Avoid humor or lighthearted comments; this moment calls for sensitivity. Remember, your words will be read by grieving family members seeking solace.

If you're unsure what to write, a quote about love or remembrance can provide comfort and depth. It's always better to err on the side of caution when expressing condolences in such delicate circumstances.

Ensure your handwriting is legible if you're writing manually; clarity matters during times of grief.

How to Deliver Your Message with Empathy and Respect

When writing your message for funeral flowers, consider the emotional weight behind it. Choose words that reflect kindness and compassion.

Think about the recipient’s feelings. Acknowledge their loss without being overly formal or distant. Simple phrases often carry significant meaning.

Timing matters too. Send your flowers promptly, ideally before the service begins. This allows families to see your gesture of support in their time of grief.

If you're delivering them yourself, be mindful of the setting. Approach with sensitivity and offer a brief word of comfort if appropriate.

Remember, every message is an opportunity to express love and sorrow together. Your intention should resonate deeply with those mourning while paying tribute to the departed soul respectfully.

Conclusion: Honoring a Loved One's Memory with Thoughtful Flower Messages

Honoring a loved one's memory is a profound act, and thoughtful flower messages play an essential role in that process. Carefully chosen words can convey deep emotions and provide comfort to grieving family members. Whether you opt for traditional phrases or personalize your message, the key is to speak from the heart.

When selecting funeral flowers, remember that they represent love and support during one of life’s most challenging times. Your message can uplift spirits or simply express sorrow and sympathy. Take your time crafting something meaningful, as it reflects not only on the deceased but also on your relationship with them.

Delivering your message with empathy ensures it resonates deeply with those who read it. It shows care at a moment when compassion is needed most—bringing solace amid grief.

By putting thought into what you write on funeral flowers, you create a lasting tribute to someone cherished while providing comfort to their family during difficult days ahead. Such gestures remind us all of the beauty found in shared memories and enduring love.

[okiedokrie-main]

Kinda depressing under the cut

How do you mourn for a love you’ve never had?

I was born a girl, so, expectedly, people beat the idea of getting married and falling in love with a good man into my psyche since the day I could understand them.

Needless to say, the idea of love intrigued me. I've been lucky enough to receive love from my family and friends, and I never take this love for granted, but sometimes I feel like something is fundamentally missing.

I've never received romantic attention from men before, and living for 20 years and never experiencing romantic attention in my key developmental stages really fucked up my mind.

I dont need romantic love to be loved, but because I always hear the stories of boys having crushes on these girls or these girls getting into loving and healthy relationships, while people forgot even my existence. It kind of makes it feel like something is wrong with me.

I'm not pretty enough to date, not smart or grounding enough to marry. I've been used for my body and never appreciated as a person and I fully believe this impacted my perception of being worthy of love.

I don't believe I am worthy of being loved. I've never been asked out to dances, dates, asked for my number, nothing. It's always been difficult for me to connect with people romantically and every time I fall for someone they never felt the same.

Its wrong, and kind of dated, but growing up and people around you constantly telling you that your worth lies in how desirable you are, only to experience never being desired, it hurts. A lot.

I cry for the love I never got.

These supposed universal experiences for girls, growing up playing dress up, going out with friends, falling in love for the first time, getting your heart broken.

I'm the most pathetic hopeless romantic.

I want to love and be loved, but I genuinely dont believe thats in the cards for me.

[valeriesjournal]

Virtual Sketchbook Section 3

For this project, I traveled to the Ringling Art Museum, where I browsed the exhibits and carefully considered each item. In the end, I chose Melancholy Young Lover by Jean-Baptiste Greuze. This piece of art, which is entirely composed of oil paintings, depicts a woman struggling with grief by using a palette of subdued hues like pink, white, orange, and various blues. Since the rococo style, of which this painting is an example, aimed to depict paintings as flowy and effortless as possible, there are no obvious shapes to be seen when gazing at it. The main topic of this artwork—which may be interpreted in a variety of ways—is a young woman who is engaged in conflict with a departed lover. This is evident because her arm divides the two doves, which are seen as a symbol of love. The theme illustrates the ugliness and unbearable misery that come from losing someone you genuinely care about and having to mourn alone as there is nothing you can do about it. The painting's main emphasis is on the young woman whose torso is somewhat crooked, drawing attention to her somber expression by having her palm rest on the side of her face. Having said that, I believe this painting has a sense of unity since all the colors complement one another quite well; none of them stand out more than the others, creating a sense of balance that contrasts with her cluttered thoughts. Even though I wasn't aware of the painting's deeper meaning at the time, this artwork initially gave me an odd sense of sadness. Greuze effectively conveyed the idea of nostalgia by utilizing subdued pastel colors in Rococo style and presenting the figure with an emotionless expression, evoking a yearning for the past.

That said, the artwork's delicate and feminine characteristics suggest a connection to the rococo style, contrasting with previous art movements. In terms of the woman's identity, there is no indication that she is a real person; rather, I believe she is merely a fictional creation, like his other artwork called The Kiss, which shows a woman saying her goodbyes to her lover. When I look at the artwork more closely, I think it shows Greuze's traditional views regarding love. To be clearer, he feels the need to show women as the ones who are vulnerable, longing for their partner. Even though he depicted that in his work, I don't think he intended it negatively; rather, I think he wanted to convey that even in difficult, dark times, there is a sense of beauty in all things sorrow.

As a result, because Greuze's Melancholy Young Lover depicts a period of time that is entirely distinct from the one we currently live in, it is important to society. Even though Greuze created this work, it depicts how most males at the time saw women. It shows that they had the idea that women needed to yearn for their partners, and all the emotional distress they felt was often romanticized. However, despite its plain message of a woman longing for her partner, I chose this painting out of all the ones that were offered because, deep down, I believed it captured the mood of the period.

Citation:

Title: Capturing the essence with pencils

Date: 10/13/23

Artist: Valerie Lucio (me)

Media: Colored Pencils, Markers, and Pens

[bookofmirth]

I’m seeing a lot of people dismiss Elucien by claiming Elain doesn’t want him and “shrinks” away from him. I wanted to get your take on this. Cause how I see it is Elain desperately wants to feel in control again which is why she is pushing Lucien away. She has suffered tremendous trauma from being kidnapped by Hybern, turned into a fae against her will, being told she has a mate, her fiancé leaving her, having powers thrust on her she doesn’t understand, being kidnapped again, losing her father, and now having to pretend everything is fine because she sees how her sisters were struggling with their own trauma.

All these things happening to her and she hasn’t dealt with any of them, and that includes the mating bond. She hasn’t rejected it or accepted it. She just ignores it’s existence including Lucien himself. Given she has had over a year and still won’t even discuss the bond makes me think that is her way of taking control back. That she’s telling the Cauldren or the Mother or Fate to fuck off by deciding the bond doesn’t exist.

So seeing some other people claim that she doesn’t want Lucien I have to question that if that was definitively the case why doesn’t she outright reject the bond? Why drag out this feeling of limbo by ignoring Lucien or “shrinking” away from him? I see it as her taking control of her life back. She’s deciding she won’t deal with this thing that was pushed onto her by some divine entity. Same way she has pretended until ACOSF that her powers were gone.

And regarding the other unnamed ship for Elain I think that’s also a control thing. I think she genuinely cares about him. He saved her life many times and made her feel safe in this new crazy world she was pushed into. I just think that connection she has to him is the same as any traumatized person would have to someone who rescued them/experienced that same pain. I think maybe Elain is pushing for more in that connection because she feels this is a choice she made and not Fate. This relationship would be her taking control back. Which is why I could see them sharing intimacy that essentially will leave her feeling unfulfilled, especially considering his POV is more about what he thinks Fate owes him. Basically they would both be using each other.

Sorry I seriously could go on for another few paragraphs talking about how even in ACOTAR Elain was portrayed as the easy going one and that may be further evidence of her not dealing with her feelings… there I go again. This is a lot [insert I just have a lot of feelings gif].

This is really long, and I love you for your thoughts, and I am not one bit sorry that this took me like 45 minutes to write.

This argument is honestly the one that drives me crazy the most because we literally do not know what Elain wants. People keep saying “she’s not interested” or “they never talk” or “there’s no interaction” etc. Are they supposed to discuss the mating bond and their deepest feelings and thoughts about one another at Starfall, or winter solstice, or some other family function in front of literally everyone they know??? 

I’m sorry, but did we get an Elain book that I missed? A Lucien book? No, we’ve gotten Feyre’s story, and Nesta and Cassian and a bit of Rhys. Not once have we gotten a POV in which we could see Elain and/or Lucien discussing how they feel about one another without someone else present and/or interfering, without that information being filtered through someone else’s perception of how they feel.

And tbh? I think that’s telling. To me, that means it’s being saved for a future book.

Regarding the way that Elain supposedly shrinks from Lucien - again, if she really didn’t want to be around him, Feyre and Rhys would make that happen. 

In acowar, their interactions were quite different because she had just been Made, her powers were still unknown, she was still mourning Graysen and her father. Elain had a lot going on. I always like to compare it to feysand, and what Feyre’s reaction would have been if she knew about Rhys being her mate as soon as she met him in acotar. There’s no way in hell should would have just instantly thrown Tamlin over for him. Why would we expect Elain to be able to make that shift in her affections so easily?

In acosf, page 311, there is “tightness” in her face when she makes an excuse for not being around, and this is Cassian’s POV.

Page 602, again Cassian’s POV: “Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that new-found boldness to be seen.”

Any conjecture about why she reacted that way is 100% pure speculation. 

She could be feeling what Lucien feels because of the bond, and from what Cassian says it’s not a pleasant feeling. 

She could be unsure of what Lucien expects of her. 

She could be repulsed by him.

She could have such strong feelings that she shrinks because she has a difficult time hiding them (and she’s usually really good at hiding them). 

She could feel such an intense pull towards him that she physically withdraws. 

We literally do not know!!!

To me, it mirrors Wings and Embers when Nesta and Cassian were attracted to one another and he licked her neck, then she kicked him in the balls. I mean we literally have examples of this with the other mated couples where they are drawn together but still turn away from one another. However, we also got to see feysand and nessian one-on-one, from their own POV. We haven’t had that with elucien yet so any argument that says the above (she’s not interested, they never interact, etc.) has no basis in what we know. 

What we do know is that she hasn’t rejected the bond. Whatever those reasons are, Elain could have rejected the bond a thousand times over by now, but she hasn’t. I actually don’t think she runs from her problems, at least not all the time. I know that people keep arguing that, but I’m not convinced. I’ll make a separate post about that. 

Hell, Lucien could have rejected the bond a thousand times over by now!!!! Elain isn’t the only one who can do that, right?! And why would he choose to let it remain, when this pull is having such an effect on him? When Rhys said that it can make people go crazy if it’s not consummated? Like? Lucien has agency in this too, and of the two of them Lucien has a much larger stake in not letting this continue. 

There is a year of potential interactions between them that we have zero evidence of and so claiming that they haven’t happened is like one of the priestesses saying that the sky doesn’t exist because they never see it.

My final point is that I think that we haven’t gotten this information because it’s endgame, because it will get its own book and become fully developed when it’s not filtered through other characters’ perspectives.

Okay my actual actual final point is that idgaf how Az plays into all of this because she can want to kiss him in that one scene, and everything I said would still be true. I think you’re right that they can find comfort in one another because he rescued her (and he also rescued Gwyn) and because he was trying to put her at ease in acomaf (because it was his job), and Az intentionally made himself seem unthreatening. Elain doesn’t feel the same pressure or expectation from Az as there is from Lucien, so yeah, she feels more comfortable around him. She can smile blandly and he can say “no Elain can’t do that” and it doesn’t challenge anything about their lives.

-fin-

[animepopheart]

Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 11: “The Temptation of Death”?

Wonder Egg Priority is a beautiful, uncomfortable, moving and confusing series that starts out engaging all the things we don’t talk about—self-harm, abuse, rape, bullying, gender dysmorphia, and homosexuality, to name a few. Our silence and blindness to these issues have a weight and pressure to them, and WEP shows how this reinforces the isolation and hopelessness of the young women of the “eggs” who turn to suicide for relief. The first ten episodes have been exhilarating and exhausting alike.

And then there is Episode 11. This past week, the series took a bit of a turn, leaning hard into the sci-fi-philosophical, with appearances from Greek gods, a murderous artificial intelligence, and really, really disturbing insect girls, one of whom, despite being a brutal killer, is apparently a vegetarian. Has the show gone off the rails? Has it lost its way in departing from the familiar procedural approach of engaging a differing social or mental health issue with each episode?

Such a critique is perfectly legit, but before you write off the penultimate episode of WEP, just hear me out on why the abstract, meta turn in episode 11 may just be the most valuable thing this series has to offer so far.

Before we begin though, a little recap of what we learned this week. In episode 10, we hear the eggheads, Acca and Ura-Acca, discuss the need for warriors of Eros to battle Thanatos. This is our first hint that things are about to get lore-full and maybe a bit weird. Eros and Thanatos are of course gods in the ancient Greek pantheon, Eros being the god of love, and Thanatos, of non-violent death. Within the first minute or so of episode 11, it’s clear that the eggheads’ hope is now focused on Ai becoming the long-awaited warrior. At this point though, rather than continuing with Ai’s story, the episode shifts into flashback mode and we are finally introduced to the villain, an artificial intelligence created by the eggheads back when they were still human. Their lives gradually come to revolve around her: She is the fulfillment of their obsession to create life, and she is good.

Frill is associated with hydrangeas, which symbolise heartlessness and pride in Japanese flower language. But is it her heartlessness and pride, or that of her makers?

(Atelier Emily has done an outstanding series of posts on the flowers in WEP. Check it out!)

Only, it turns out she doesn’t play so nice when others join the happy family. After killing Acca’s wife, and putting the life of the unborn baby at risk, the AI—who named herself Frill—is unrepentant, all traces of her seeming humanity now revealed to be illusory, a mere affectation. Acca locks her away in a hole in the cellar. Years pass. The baby, Himari, grows up and is a ray of sunshine. But after effectively confessing to her ‘uncle’ (why does anime always do this?), she commits suicide. Ura-Acca discovers that Frill is still very much alive and active from her hole in the cellar, having powered up all the discarded monitors and laid down reams of electrical cables—to what end, we do not yet know. Though Ura-Acca surmises that she has somehow influenced Himari to take her own life. How else would the girl have known about Ura-Acca’s admiration for her mother? Where else would she have learned to make what will forever be to me now that uncannily sinister popping sound?

Here’s where it gets weirder. Unlike the suicides of subsequent egg girls, there is no indication that Himari, Frill’s apparent first victim, struggled with any mental health or other issues that would motivate her to take her own life. Indeed, her ‘uncle’ did not even reject her confession. (Again anime, why you do this thing?) Instead, the eggheads explain Himari’s suicide as being on account of the “temptation of death.” What now?

This is implying that death is somehow attractive, not just to someone facing overwhelming brokenness, trauma or pain, like the egg girls we’ve met so far, but to someone on the verge of stepping from a (relatively) happy childhood into young adulthood, with the promise of potential love to look forward to; someone who has not known suffering, but rather only smiles and cake. (To be fair, it is always possible that she experienced trauma in the womb, or was more deeply affected by her father’s sadness than Ura-Acca’s memories belie.)

That’s my question too, Ai.

The notion of death as somehow attractive or even beautiful is rather alien to Western culture. Certainly, there will always be some who romanticize death, à la star-crossed lovers (Shakespeare, I’m looking at you). But in general, Western culture views death as something ugly and frightening, something to avoid until it is staring you directly in the face, and even then, closing your eyes in denial is a perfectly reasonable response. Death is one of those things we don’t talk about. In my experience, Anglo-American culture is not very good at even mourning death. We lack the grieving rituals and observances of other cultures, and instead seek to confine death to the sealed, sanitized spaces of hospitals, care homes, and funeral parlors. We keep it shrouded tightly in silence. How could there ever be anything like the “temptation of death”? How could we ever consider death to be something desirable? Are the eggheads or CloverWorks simply aestheticising suicide and death here to make it sound deep and philosophical?

No, I don’t think that’s it. Instead, Acca and Ura-Acca are doing what all good researchers do—and indeed what all Christians, as believers in an unseen spiritual reality, are also called to do: They are looking more deeply into phenomena that seem, on the surface, to already be explained. The two idol fans were consumed with their obsession, so when their idol killed herself, they followed suit. The young woman whose identity was wrapped up in her own appearance ended her life to preserve her beauty. The abused gymnast saw no way out, no hope in ever living free from torment. Some explanations may be more sympathetic than others, but they all possess their own internal logic. Contemporary society is full of a vast array of pressures and stresses and each one, taken to breaking point, can result in death. Case closed. This might very well be our conclusion from the first ten episodes.

Only the case isn’t closed. Because there is a question that has pervaded every episode until now, but has remained unspoken: How is it that death could even become an option for the egg girls? Why does reaching a breaking point trigger suicide? What made death seem like a savior to these girls? This is the question that episode 11 tackles, in its own admittedly obscure way. The eggheads are focused on the underlying, deeper reality that unites all the eggs’ stories, as disparate as they are—the common thread, which is the idea that death is a release, a rescue, a beautiful ending, and as a result, it is tempting.

“But we wondered if there could be another push that drove them to suicide,” explains Ura-Acca.

This is a really important question for us to be asking. Because it’s not just these traumatized, vulnerable girls who fall for the seduction of death. We do, too.

Just ponder for a moment: Have you ever anticipated how wonderful it will be when, in heaven, you no longer struggle with that particular temptation? When your temper is no longer so short, when you’re not afraid of being hurt anymore? Or maybe you think about how one day, on those gold-paved streets, you won’t have to worry anymore. All your hard work coping and just keeping it together will finally pay off and you’ll cross that finish line and heave a sigh of relief, knowing that you made it in the end. Have you ever contemplated these kinds of things? I know I have.

But here’s the thing: When I expect my liberation to come only after I die and not right here, right now, then it is not Jesus who is my savior, but death. I am waiting for death to free me from temptation and sin and fear and brokenness, and usher me into eternal life. I make Thanatos my god.

The temptation of death is not limited to the drastic act of suicide, but also permeates all the accusations and fears that inspire us to put off living the fullness of life in Christ here and now. It’s the temptation to believe that it is death that will ultimately solve the more difficult and painful problems in life.

Acca and Ura-Acca seek to create a love that suits their ideals, just to relieve their stress.

The source of this “temptation of death” in Wonder Egg Priority is Frill, the AI. That is, a man-made, artificial version of love—with ai meaning “love” in Japanese. According to Ura-Acca, they made her “just for fun,” as a way of dealing with the stress of their enclosed lives. They designed her to suit their preferences, to make it easier to love her and forget that she was artificial. In this sense, Frill is the fruit of their self-centeredness, her every characteristic designed to satisfy their own ideals of how a daughter and woman should be. And this artificial love born of selfishness brings death into their midst and beyond, spreading it through the horrendous deformities of girlhood that she in turn creates, in imitation of her fathers. (Only perhaps her creations are less deceptive than theirs, wearing their monstrosity plainly on the outside…)

Frill’s creations. We’ve met Dash (right) and Dot (center), but who is that on the left? And is her name Morse??

To counter her destructive influence, Acca and Ura-Acca need true love, a genuine love. They need Ai, a messy, at times very weak human being, but one who nevertheless is willing to fight to live up to her name and maybe, just maybe, become a warrior of Eros.

There is also a deep, underlying force at work in our world, one that connects all despair and the actions born of it. A wide range of social issues, traumas and mental health challenges can and do trigger suicide, but they do not explain it fully. The deeper reality is the existence of an enemy who seeks to manipulate us into believing our true savior can only be death, whether it is right away by our own hand, or more subtly, decades from now by natural causes. But this is a lie, and it is one that we can combat. Just as I’m sure we’ll see in the final episode that Ai is equipped to wage the coming battle in WEP, so too are we armed, here and now, with the power to overwhelm the enemy’s “temptation of death”—we possess already the words of life, given to us by our true savior.

Jesus began his ministry with a public announcement that he had come to heal heart wounds, comfort those in pain, fill broken lives with beauty, and wrap those in despair with reasons to praise like a warm protective blanket, so that they might celebrate with joy once again. He came to bring freedom to prisoners and captives alike, giving a fresh new life to those locked up because of deeds done wrong, and those punished and injured at the hands of others. He came to take the outcasts, the weak, the traumatized and broken and transform them into mighty oaks, clean and strong; into people with the vision and skill and compassion and fortitude to rebuild a broken world (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18),

He came to rewrite and restore our experience of life here on earth, and through us, to redeem our communities, cities, nations, and the world. God does not withhold the fullness of life from us until we finally make it to him in heaven. No, instead he moved heaven and earth to get right up close so that he could pour his own life out into us, even going so far as to breathe his very spirit into our hearts and bodies and minds. We don’t need to wait for death’s rescue—our hero has already come. But we do need to remind each other and ourselves of this truth pretty often, and let it work down deep into all the cracks and bruises in our souls until it strengthens all our weak spots.

In Deuteronomy 30:19, God tells the Israelites that he has given them the authority to choose between life and death. But he also tips the balances in their favor, urging them to choose life. In Jesus, he comes to tip the balances even further, making it possible for us to step into eternal life here and now, immediately and forever. So let’s do it. Each day, through each struggle we face. Let’s choose life and not death.

Warrior of love? And is Ai’s himawari (sunflower) related to Himari somehow?

Join me (in spirit) for the final episode on Tuesday to see Ai’s love triumph! (At least, I really really hope that’s what happens!)

[i-prefer-the-term-antihero]

Additionally, your thoughts on Dracula and Adrian from the Netflix adaptation of Castlevania? I find Dracula really tragic, and the ending scene of Season 2 crushed me because I was not expecting Adrian to cry. He’s usually so stoic and calm that I didn’t think he would weep, I expected him to just shrug it off like heroes usually do, but no, when given time to process everything, the first thing he does is break down into tears. Sypha was right in calling him a brooding teen in an adult body.

Ohh man. If you just take a look at my writing blog (or anywhere I post my fanfiction) it’ll become pretty clear pretty quickly how I feel about them XD So far all my Castlevania fics have been about the Tepes Family. Adrian and Drac are my favorite characters in the series!! (Though I do love pretty much all the characters in it.)

YES YES YES!!

They did an incredible job making Drac sympathetic and tragic. I don’t know if you know anything about the games, and granted, they couldn’t put a lot of story stuff in the games, but (at least as far as I’m aware) in most of them it’s like “ya, he was an evil dude who did evil things because he was evil.” So it actually would have been pretty accurate to the source to make him just an unsympathetic, irredeemable villain, but they didn’t and I LOVE them for it. Playing Symphony of the Night (Alucards game) after watching the series l was almost longing for that Drac I know and love from the series, (though it’s fun to see evil Drac too).

As I’ve said, I adore redeemable villains, and they did an amazing job with him, to the point where pretty much everyone in the fandom adores him, which is extremely tough to accomplish—even if you write a redeemable villain well, often large parts of the fandom don’t see it and hate the character. I knew that the point was that they were going to defeat Drac but I have to say, especially since I originally knew nothing of the games, I was hoping they’d save him by the end.

I think the fact that he liked and was kind to Hector and Isaac was evidence that he wasn’t too far gone. I mean, the only two people he genuinely trusted and liked in his court were human…that’s so interesting, I wish it was at least talked about, either in the show or in the fandom. I think he actually liked humans, partially or especially because of Lisa, he just...was so angry, and needed someone to blame. He probably ultimately blamed himself for not being there to save her, and it was just easier to blame the humans he once hated/didn’t understand, even if in reality he didn’t hate them as much as he thought he did...

Doing more thinking and research into the show for my “If These Walls Could Talk” fic I recognize now that symbolically it made sense even within the show that he died when Lisa died (which I can explain more about if you want but id probably end up going off on a long tangent so I’ll save it)...but I still thought practically, in the show, he could have still been redeemed.

Omg I LOVED that. The longer I take to sit with it, the more I realize just how much I loved that they put him crying instead of shaking it off.

It’s very interesting that Drac and Alucard are more openly emotional characters. I might be totally wrong, but as far as I remember, they (...and Lisa when she dies, and probably Isaac in a flashback), are the only main characters we see openly cry. It’s a pretty bold move to make any of your characters emotional like that, but especially your villain, and your bold handsome hero. It’s sooo easy to get emotional characters and emotions wrong…or just offputting to some people...but more on that later.

I think Adrian and Drac are both rather sentimental, in an odd way. Much of Drac’s motivations in the show and even in the games (the times his motivations are explained) had to do with his wives (yes he was married before Lisa in the games...unless Lament of Innocence was retconned...) which is interesting. So many of his decisions are based on emotion. He lets Lisa in just because he likes her, he goes to war with the world because of Lisa, he sits in his study mourning her loss, he let’s Alucard kill him… I also notice very often he digs his nails into his palms until they bleed, presumably because if he didn’t he’d hurt someone else (in the scene where he hurts Alucard, he does this). His sentimentality doesn’t diminish is power as a villain, which is SO difficult to accomplish.

 I am emotional myself so I absolutely love to see emotional characters, but for most people, seeing even a normal character be emotional diminishes them in their eyes, or makes them whiny, so making your villain even a little emotional, and having that not take away from the audiences perception of their power as a villain is sooooooo hard to do, and I applaud them for making a so well-beloved, and still villainous and intimidating, but also emotional (at times) villain.

For Alucard. I don’t see any problem with him being emotional, but it makes even more sense if he’s a teen in an adult’s body—which was indeed portrayed quite well.

Yes that was interesting when he cried when drawing his parents!! I wasn’t expecting that when I saw him drawing them. I was enjoying and intrigued by his story so much, then when he started crying I was caught off guard—but in a good way. It really made me feel for him, and understand that he was still grieving his mother, and that knew the gravity of what he was currently doing.

I think it’s kind of important to show that kind of thing in a situation like this. It’s easy to think Alucard hates his dad, and they need to show the emotion of the situation to make it clear “no he doesn’t hate his dad, this actually breaks his heart, he just knows he has to do this.”

I loved when he was telling Trevor and Sypha about how much the world would lose by killing Dracula. It’s really interesting that he hides his emotion with them, and that Trevor and Sypha are so stoic. The son of Dracula isn’t the guy you expect to be the only hero who cries.

In “For Love” when Trevor’s like “Don’t get weepy about it” I was sitting there, sobbing, like “No, please get weepy about it! Let the boy cry for goodness sake!! Give me some emotion!!” But I too was not expecting him to cry like he did, and in grieving the death of his parents...

I knew the crying scene was coming because I’d seen pictures of it on here and pinterest, but I had no context for it. In the end it wasn’t just the weeping itself that made the scene so impactful, it was everything surrounding it. I didn’t know it would happen when he was completely alone (and would be for the foreseeable future), and in grieving his parents, or about the ghosts/flashbacks before it (cementing his grief), or that it was literally the last scene of the season, or that there would be no music for both the scene and the credits thereafter.

And that was what really got me.

Because, firstly, we never got to see any flashbacks to his childhood, and that was what I was begging for the entire series (and hence why its what I write about). To finally get it, and it not to just be something the audience gets to see, but something Alucard himself is seeing... a happy memory he’s seeing when he knows that is completely gone, he cannot hope to have it again, and for him to now be in his father’s place…that’s heartbreaking. Like just having your character cry—let alone those kinds of full-on sobs—is painful enough, showing a son grieving his parents is a particularly heart wrenching kind of sadness, but showing that he is haunted by memories of those parents he lost—not only lost but one of which he killed, and, if SOTN is canon for the show, the other of which he could have saved—of a happy childhood, and he is alone with these memories for the foreseeable future...that is truly heart wrenching.

Also the scene with Trevor and Sypha in the wagon earlier in the episode was super sweet, they could have easily put the Adrian crying scene earlier, and had the Trevor and Sypha scene be the last scene of the season (and Trevor’s game actually does end with them looking into the sunset, so ending with the last scene of “For Love” would be accurate as well), and left it on a positive note, and the audience would have been left with a completeness. But they made a conscious choice put his crying scene last, and it was so powerful, because it made you remember that at the end of the day, he isn’t just our bold handsome hero, he was a son who lost both his parents, and that, to him, this isn’t really a triumph, but a loss. It also kinda confirmed that Drac wasn’t an "evil guy, end of story". That there was reason to grieve him, and to show his son grieving, and to leave it there because of it. It was a personal gravity too

In the end, it was the lack of music in the scene, and even more so during the credits, so theres only his tears, and all you are left with in the end is this amplified emptiness that really did me in. I think I literally sat there, tear tracks on my face, my mouth open when I hit the credits.

Playing Symphony of the Night after watching the show is really interesting in exploring his character. I knew there was very little story, so I wasn’t expecting much from the story, but I actually found that I was beyond excited whenever there actually was some story, and the few lines they did say are stuck with me.

Maria comments early on that Alucard’s not very good at talking. At first I just chalked it up to...weird translations or whatever. But the more I played the game and the more I thought about him in the show...I think she’s right. He’s not very good at talking, yet if and when he does talk he’s quite eloquent, and precise with his words. (This actually makes him a somewhat difficult character to write). I wonder if perhaps this has some connection to his emotionalness. He’s very careful with what he says, and this may spread to what he does—such as being careful when he shows emotion. I’m curious why he’s like this. It could just be his nature, but I wonder if as a kid he was ever hated because he was a vampire—maybe people made fun of him, and he cried, and they made more fun of him because of it—and he learned both to hide his emotions, and that he had to be very deliberate and show people he didn’t mean any ill will with his words. (And he looks older than he is so people might call him immature for acting his mental age). All very speculative, of course. But it’d be fun to write about!

Also, another thing from SOTN that is related to this topic, there was a fight that really struck me (enough I actually wrote a fic about it (inverted recurrence)). SOTN takes plays 300 years after the events of The Netflix Series (aka Dracula’s Curse). Most of the bosses don’t seem to have a lot of meaning story-wise, they’re just there for you to fight. The other day I (Alucard) walked into a boss room...and there were Trevor, Sypha, and Grant (who was omitted from the Netflix series). They were fake versions of them, of course. And there’s no dialogue in the fight so maybe I’m just speculating, but what struck me was that the fact that Dracula could use them against him probably means he still cares about them, even after 300 years. It probably also means that they’re some of the only friends he’s ever had. Granted, he was asleep for a good chunk of those 300 years, still. It goes back to that sentimental-ness I was talking about earlier.

I few years ago I watched the Gravity Falls commentaries, and from them I got a lot of the writing advice I still think about and use today. Alex Hirsch said something on this subject which I really liked which is “Hold your tears.” When a character cries they’ve broken, that’s as far as they can go. So if you make a character cry when the audience themselves doesn’t feel the weight of the scene, or it doesn’t feel like the character has broken yet, it can feel like too...much/cheesy, and distance the audience. especially with cartoons where the way it’s drawn can actually affect your sympathy for the character (it can look weird or accentuated).

They did such an awesome job with this by literally holding his tears until the very end. I don’t know how other, non-emotional people felt about it, but Ive don’t know if I’ve ever seen tears used so well in a show, pack such a punch. To have it not just be a part of the scene but literally the focus, and at the end...it was powerful.

Sorry for the long response, and more importantly, I’m beyond sorry for taking so so SOOO long to respond. I hope you enjoy my response, if you see it <3

P.S. For anyone else who made it all the way to the end, I actually have a Castlevania sideblog now: @symphonyofthewrite !! I’d be beyond happy to recieve asks like this over there, if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts!!

[gracerings]

here’s a list of dean's romantic relationships and my own personal opinions about them and dean's feelings toward each of his love interests (disclaimer: these are my personal opinions, which means it's fine if you disagree, we all interpret things in different ways!)

crowley: personally I think nothing would have happened between dean and crowley if dean hadn't become a demon. dean never trusted him enough to let himself go like that with him, without the filter of inibitions being taken off. I also don't think dean had romantic feelings for him. crowley definitely did and he hated it, but dean.. I think he only went for it because he was a demon, having fun with hookups and threesomes every night and crowley was there. non-demon dean developed a begrudging sympathy for crowley eventually, something that confused him and made him almost mourn him a little when he died, but. I don't think there was much more than that for dean.

benny: his relationship with benny was definitely more intense, due to the circumstances of how and where they met. their connection was born out of a trust built day after day in a constantly dangerous situation where they had to rely on each other if they wanted to survive. there was attraction there and later trust, gratitude and shared experiences, something pure but also detached from reality, much like purgatory. however, all in all, I don't believe dean loved benny. I think he cared about him and was obviously very sad to see him go, but then again I don't think he could have asked him to sacrifice himself, if he really had loved him.

cassie: I think cassie was the first person dean could see himself be happy with. their personalities seemed to fit very well with each other and I do believe dean loved her, but in the way you can love someone you've only known for a few weeks (a month?). there was very intense physical chemistry between them that was mirrored by how quickly they connected emotionally. it was very much a first love situation (I'm not counting robin in this list, but to me that was puppy love, cassie was dean's first adult love), in which every emotion is amplified and felt tenfold. if dean had got the chance to be with cassie for longer, I believe he would have come to love her in a more mature way and they might have lasted.

lisa: I think dean loved lisa and deeply cared for her, however I don't think they ever really fit. In comparison I’d say he and cassie were a lot more compatible. I think dean was drawn to lisa because she and ben represented the heterosexual ideal of the traditional nuclear family he thought he was supposed to want. aside from the fact that going to lisa at the end of swan song was basically sam's dying wish, I think in that moment in particular he was probably drawn to the comfort of a stable traditional family, after losing his own (with sam dying and cas leaving to fix the situation in heaven). overall I think dean and lisa's relationship provided comfort and a sense of belonging, but I don't believe he was ever truly happy while he was with her, partly because he was still grieving, but also because he was changing parts of himself to try and adapt to the traditional role of husband/father he was trying to fulfill.

cas: in comparison with all the other relationships listed before, dean's relationship with cas is in another league entirely. the depth and intensity of their connection and dean's feelings for him become even more obvious when you compare them to dean's other love interests. aside from the slow burn spanning 12 years, aside from the symbolism surrounding their story, at its core their relationship is one rooted in a profound bond of friendship. it's utter trust and mutual respect and love, it's devotion and shared values, it's knowing one other so well but still being able to surprise each other, it's companionship and partnership, inside jokes and found family. it's shared trauma and mirrored experiences, it's silent communication, affection and care, it's indulging but also cherishing each other's quirks and interests, it's deep mutual understanding and compatibility. it's selfless and it's genuine and it's real, the only real thing in the universe and an active act of free will. I believe dean is in love with cas, like he's never been with anyone else. there is an unconditional quality to his feelings for cas that wasn't there with any of his other relationships. It’s not something he fully understands of course and it takes him years to even start to recognize the nature of those feelings (which he then proceeds to bury as deep as possible), but dean is always choosing cas over and over. he cares for him and worries about him constantly, and even when he’s pissed at him, he actively tries to fix it and he knows he will forgive him, no questions asked. and even despite how difficult it is for dean to vocalize emotions and feelings, there are multiple times where he genuinely tries to do that for cas, because he wants him to know and he wants to share those feelings with him. he finds cas endearing, he values his advice and his opinions, he likes to make him smile and cas makes him smile too. he feels comfortable in talking about personal stuff with him even early on during their friendship and he wants cas to do the same, he’s utterly devastated when cas is gone, he wants to protect him despite cas being an actual angel of the lord. he makes him watch his favorite movies because he likes sharing things with him, he loves cas’ quirks and personality. he trusts him, he relies on him and he wants him to stay, he always wants him to stay.

[agentnorthdakota]

All odd numbers for Zarus. Feel free to skip any, especially if they're too spoilery

Thanks Spencer!! uwu Sorry this took so long! I love this funky druid and I'm curious myself if any of these answers will change as I develop them further and they grow in the campaign~

1. Why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)? When Zarus was young (for a drow), they were taught about nature and other Druidic teachings, which inspired them to actually get out into nature more and be an actual druid themself. Part of the Circle of Dreams, they spent some time in the Feywild, which influenced their magic further.

3. What is their goal right now? They do aim to get back to the Feywild, but Zarus is lackadaisical and drow live a Long time, so despite being presented with a chance to return, they’re like “there’s time for that later~” They’re curious about their friends and have some “souvenirs” to drop off to their friend Cabal first, anyway.

5. Do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity? Zarus isn’t really the religious types. The gods exist, certainly, but they’re more connected to the wild, chaotic power of nature than devoting themself to a specific god.

7. Which party member do they understand the least? Defs Caesin atm. They enjoy being in cahoots with him, but are still figuring out his personality and morals.

9. Do they care about their appearance? how much effort do they put into presentation? Zarus cares a fair bit about their appearance – but you couldn’t tell by looking at them. From the outside they seem like the sort of person that put makeup on a couple days ago and is like “eh it’s still good enough” (purely figurative, they haven’t worn makeup in ages). And yet they typically hold themself like they’re dressed in finery, despite the holes in their cheap clothes.

11. What skills are they proficient in? why? Arcana, deception, history, perception, persuasion, and survival. Each has their place in their backstory, but the specifics of why are a mystery :3c

13. What do they dislike about themself? why? He’s the type to be, like… overly positive and hard to ruffle. He also isn’t exactly the most self-reflective. I think he’d have trouble naming anything he dislikes about himself.

15. Do they trust their party? why or why not? Absolutely! :3 I mean they’ve known each other for like a whole day now! (Zarus trusts way too easily)

17. What do they dream about, when their dreams are their own? That’s a good question :3c

19. What haunts them? what doesn’t? Probably more than he knows, or would admit (even to himself).

21. Do they follow their head, their heart, or their body? Well it’s definitely not their head. I’d say a mix of their heart and gut – but they have terrible intuition and danger-sense.

23. How do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name? They’d be thrilled to be given any of the above! Nicknames mean fondness, titles mean status, and labels can mean community – all of which Zarus wants. They’re very fond of their name, which is one of the reasons they give it a little too readily.

25. What stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear? Zarus is… probably not the best storyteller, struggling to remember parts, and completely making up others. They’ll talk all day about less linear events though, like various plants, storm clouds, etc. And they’re happy to hear almost any story, as long as the person telling it is enthusiastic and isn’t a stuck-up prick.

27. How do they mourn? If he ever knew how to mourn, I think he’s forgotten how. Death is a fleeting and intangible concept to Zarus, and so mourning would be much the same.

29. Who would they save? who would they be saved by? He’d happily save any of his friends, both new and old, and without regard to any potential cost. And so far he’d be saved by Grimshaw, the only person who’s actually stepped in tried to dissuade his recklessness lol

31. They’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? (answered this one in a previous post~)

33. What makes them cry? …what does make them cry? Again, Zarus is a very cheery individual. Probably something triggering an old, long-forgotten memory, or one of their friends dying and not coming back. They’d also defs be the type to start crying without even realizing it, still smiling, only noticing when they feel they tears streaming down their face, and reach up to touch their cheek in confusion.

35. Which party member do they worry for? Defs Maco. He’s young and seems naïve, so if there’s anyone Zarus would have the sense to actually worry over, it’s him.

37. What is their favorite thing to hold? Ooooh. Probably an old, worn leather-bound book, whether that’s a journal or a published tome. It would bring them a sense of familiarity and comfort.

39. Are their hands calloused, soft, or something else entirely? Their left hand and forearm are covered with burn scars, while their right is surprisingly soft for a druid, not nearly as calloused as you’d expect from someone who travels the wilderness.

41. What are they attracted to in other people? (also answered this one in the previous post~)

43. Why do they fight? I guess… why not? They aren’t exactly into fighting, but they’re definitely capable, so if the situation calls for it they will fight, especially if their companions are. But they don’t exactly fight to protect themself, and would just as readily try to talk their way out of a situation.

45. How do they hug people? Another interesting one! I think it’s been a long time since anyone actually hugged Zarus. Despite being more of an extrovert, they don’t always spend much time around people, and Zarus can be a little… off-putting. I think he’d melt into a hug, eager to share in the rare warmth and companionship – and having no sense of personal boundaries and how long a hug should last or how closely he should wind the other person in his arms or vice versa.

47. When they meet someone, what is the first thing they notice? How kind they are. Do they treat him with kindness, or disdain? Because the latter isn’t going to win that person any brownie points with Zarus, though they may not say it. Anything else – appearance, social standing, scars, etc – that’s all extra, and typically not of concern.

49. What makes them smile? Lots of things. Zarus is smiling, like, 90% of the time, even if it’s a small smile (and probably somewhat unnerving). One of the rare times they’re not smiling is when they’re pondering something. They’re definitely smiling when they’re mad or offended, there’s just more of an edge to it that an observer might not catch.

51. What is the most beautiful thing in the world, for them? Oh wow. I think… life, continuing on uninterrupted. TW for some gory descriptions for this one. ((A bird with a stick fused into it’s wing that still manages to fly, a deer whose antlers are tangled with the head of another, trapped in an endless battle until it sheds its antlers, flowers and fungi sprouting between the bones of a carcass, the decaying corpse of a whale that brings so much new life to the scavengers who feast on it. There’s beauty in death, and in the unstoppable circle of life – and it’s a privilege to them to hold such a special place in it.)) On a more… traditional note, they definitely do like pretty flowers, and thunderstorms.

53. Which is more frightening to them: day or night? Honestly… I think the bright light of day. There’s comfort and familiarity in the darkness, a sense of home. But in the harsh daylight that hurts their eyes, everything is so stark and clear, and deep down it triggers discomfort, of what they should recall but don’t.

55. Whose hand do they reach out for? Currently? Cabal. They’ve helped him to his feet more than once, and he trusts them. It won’t take long for this to apply to his party, as well, but right now Cabal is instinctually the first one he’d reach for. For the party it will probably be Grimshaw first, since he’s been the most protective of Zarus (even if he doesn’t exactly deem it necessary).

57. What makes them angry? Being talked down to certainly grinds his gears. Zarus is actually decently intelligent, but no matter what, being disrespected and treated like he’s beneath someone sparks his anger, especially considering his backstory.

59. What is a quiet passion of theirs? Making flower crowns, and to a lesser extent, origami. They also very much enjoy sketching various flora and recording information about it, but there’s a sense of work to that as well as passion. Also, fashion. They very much enjoy dressing up, they just rarely have reason to.

61. What kind of flower would they choose to pick from a meadow? Literally every flower they could find. They’d either pick none, leaving them to grow, or one of each variety (including colour variations). They are very passionate about flowers and flora, so if they started they wouldn’t be able to resist picking one of each.

63. What fight has scared them the most? They’ve only been in a few fights in-game so far, and it’s very hard to genuinely scare Zarus. There is one from their past that would, but that’s getting into spoiler territory ;)

65. What is holding them back? Their unwillingness to accept that anything is wrong.

67. What makes them laugh? Much the same as smiling, it isn’t difficult to make Zarus laugh. They’re quite cheery, so if someone tells a bad joke or makes a clever quip, they defs laugh at it (even when doing so would be impolite).

69. How would they describe their party members? (aaand I answered this one in the previous post as well, so that’s it!)

[stewy]

Released in November 1963, it’s difficult to overestimate the impact and importance of a song like ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’, their first US chart-topper in January of 1964. It remains a critical song in their early canon of work, and marked a new phase in the burgeoning Lennon-McCartney partnership. As the two men sat side-by-side at the piano, John turned to Paul as he found what became the song-defining chords, exclaiming: ‘That’s it! Do that again!’ “In those days we really used to absolutely write like that,” Lennon enthused, “both playing into each other’s noses.” 

George Martin identified its importance, while claiming that no concessions were made to the American market. Yet it’s difficult to envisage a more appropriate vehicle than this for the group’s introduction to a new audience. As music broadcaster Paul Gambaccini noted, the country had been in deep mourning over the death of President Kennedy, and the American populace wanted a lift. ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’, literally and figuratively, enabled the healing to begin. 

From a group who subsequently became the soundtrack to a generation of young lives, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ was a sincere and climactic Lennon- McCartney collaboration pitched at a new and inspiring creative level in which the group was able to strengthen their work into a tight, idiosyncratic structure. 

Lennon admired (and had enjoyed singing) the song’s beautiful co-written melody, claiming in 1970, somewhat surprisingly, that he would be keen to re- visit the song again. This unique song seems to have everything, also combining the influence of contemporary French experimental music with a repeated, stuck-record style ‘I can’t hide’ phrase. 

Written at Jane Asher’s house, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ was a charismatic marriage of melody, harmony and sound that offered unique – for its time – lyrical allusions and vocal phrasing. The song represents a creative high watermark in their early work and, given the song’s lyrical inferences, exemplifies what Harrison believed was The Beatles’ calming presence in troubled situations: an ability to transform a negative situation with positive energy. Lennon, meanwhile, soon realised that The Beatles were being looked upon as nothing less than faith healers – four spectral figures in the public eye – and, as the most intelligent of the four, was quick to recognise its potential dangers. 

“I think that, particularly in the old days, the spirit of The Beatles seemed to suggest something very hopeful and youthful,” McCartney would later reflect. “So, often, someone would ask us to say ‘hello’ to handicapped kids; to give them some kind of hope.” The intensity of belief in The Beatles’ aura of healing power through their musical presence prompted Martin to describe the frequent scenario of variously afflicted children being taken backstage to be ‘healed’. Despite its enigmatic expression (‘I’ll tell you something, I think you’ll understand’), the song’s candid, tactile words have a genuine poignancy: ‘When I touch you’, ‘it’s such a feeling’, ‘I feel happy inside’ and the plea to ‘hold your hand’ suggest the need for a responsive, healing connection. 

The song’s harmonies suggest an imminent sense of cathartic release, and when millions of Americans sang this song for themselves, it assuaged a stunned nation’s pain during one of its darker hours. Replete with rousing handclaps and joyous harmonies, Hunter Davies claims the song was originally intended to be a modern take on the American gospel song. This was a potent record that enacted nothing less than a cultural revolution. “The thing is, in America, it just seemed ridiculous – I mean, the idea of having a hit record over there,” Lennon later marvelled. “It was just something you could never do.”

Come Together: Lennon and McCartney in the Seventies by Richard White

[theholycovenantrpg]

In the beginning was ESTIENNE WICKEN, a GIFTED loyal to the cause of the MORTALS. They are said to be TWENTY-FIVE and use THEY/THEM pronouns. In this New Testament they serve as a MEMBER of the ROUND TABLE. Blessed be their name.

THE INDELIBLE MARK.

It came as no surprise that Estienne made themself at home within the shadows. In the bouts of their plague-induced fever, they were able to find blissful peace within the darkness, sinking into it, wrapping themselves in it until one could not distinguish itself from the other. When they awoke, they realized that they were able to walk into the shadows, manipulate it, have it pour from the tips of their fingers and snuff out any light. Though they have a startling amount of mastery over their ability to travel within the shadows and coax it into doing their bidding, Estienne is beginning to feel the weight of their skill. They never speak of it, never try to pay it any mind, but they are beginning to find it more and more difficult to step out of the shadows and into the light, to tear themselves from it and become their own person again. When they overextend their abilities, they have to take lengthy periods of rest before testing their shadow mastery again. At first glance, it is difficult to see the marks of the Blood Plague upon them, until one realizes that Estienne’s hair is midnight black and how large the pupils of their eyes are -  swallowing any notion of light.

THE HISTORY.

The sun rose to bring them joy, the moon danced in the sky to appease them. If one were to tell Estienne that the world did not turn on its axis for them and them alone, they would wipe the glittering tears from their eyes. And it would not be tears of disappointment that they would be brushing away, but tears of amusement - pure, unabated laughter spilling from their lips. Before they had opened their bright eyes to the world, it was what their mother and father had told them. The world belongs to you, dear Estienne, she would murmur against their soft, dewy cheek. Never let your grip upon it falter. Why should they relinquish the hold that they had upon it when the world gave its heart so freely? If it were to give, was Estienne not allowed to take? And so they did take, as soon as they learned how to ensnare every single heart that had the misfortune to drift their way. With a bat of their lashes and a soft pout of their mouth, each soul became theirs. They stole the hearts of their mother and father, leaving nothing for the abysmal creature that they were forced to acknowledge as their blood and kin. For Estienne, there were only words of love - life was a bed of roses with a perfume so sweet and thick that it nearly suffocated them. For everyone else? Estienne left nothing but a thicket of thorns to rest upon. The rest of the world could wallow in its despair and suffering, could bemoan its idiocy and shortcomings. But not Estienne, never Estienne. And there was not a single drop of remorse within them to be found.

Why should they be remorseful about sitting atop the throne others had placed them upon? The Wicken name carried such a legacy that it was easy for them to ascend, made easier by the strings that their parents pulled, by their unparalleled banter and enigmatically beautiful features. It was as though their rise in society was dictated by the stars themselves, if Estienne were to believe that any other higher power that could control their destiny. But alas, the highest power to be found was themself and themself alone. Which was why they had no problem playing puppet master, like the Dead God once had - pulling at their lesser’s strings. It began first with their parents and their elder sister, turning them against one another, curious to see how the poison of their mother’s words could make their sweet, simple sister turn to rot. Imagine their mild surprise when she remained sweet as ever, but wilted like a dying rose. It was this single action that caused the ripple of interest to see just how far Estienne could pull at a person before the strings that they worked at snapped. First, they turned their mother against their sister, then their father against their mother, until the Wicken household seemed primed to rent itself apart.

And Estienne watched it all, like a bored god, lounging upon their heavenly throne while their lessers clawed at one another with words that were worse than any poison and far more cutting than any set of knives or claws. But their little game was brought to a stuttering stop when the Wicken household’s newest acquisition, a bawdy, tasteless tutor, was brought in. How they managed to shoulder their way into society’s most illustrious estate, Estienne will never know. What they did know, however, was what it would take to make this irksome little thorn in their side a nonissue. All it took was a well-placed coin in the hand of a beggar child, a bloody handkerchief, and time. Within a handful of days, the plague had invaded their home and left the door open so that Death itself might stride through it, taking souls just as mercilessly as Estienne was want to do. And, arrogant as they were, they were no match for the Blood Plague when it burrowed itself into the very marrow of Estienne’s bones.

They don’t remember much of the fever that overcame them or the bedside vigil that their parents kept, candles placed upon the nightstand as though in homage of the soul that had not yet left their beloved child’s body. Their mother wept and wailed, their father choked and sobbed. Even if their sweet Estienne were to survive this, what would they do with an heir touched by the plague, gifted or not, the flawless legacy that they had produced was destined to be marred. Little did they know that the vestiges of their soul that they deemed the weakest were being burned away, that their beloved Estienne was only growing more and more formidable as hellfire itself seemed to cauterize whatever might have made the Wicken heir less than. In the throes of their pathetic mourning, Estienne’s parents had shown themselves to be shams, they dared to reduce their child to the status of mortal when Estienne was anything but. With every tear their parents had shed, they had sealed their fate - their mourning became their damnation. The Estienne that had gone through the hellfire of the plague held no patience for those who regarded them as anything other than the deity they knew themselves to be. So, when their bloodied eyes opened and stepped out from the room which they had resided in, they left their parents’ corpses behind. It was their world to hold and their world to rule, after all - there was no room for nonbelievers; woe to those who dared to hope otherwise.

THE CONNECTIONS.

ISOLDE WICKEN: Half-sibling. It seemed as though the universe decided to have a little joke when it dared to make Isolde and Estienne siblings. After all, it could only be seen as laughable when they stood next to one another, forced to do so when posing for portraits, Estienne deliberately placed in front of Isolde; the flawless meant to overshadow the obviously flawed. Though they shared the same aristocratic mannerisms and enigmatic smiles - Estienne’s far more charming than Isolde’s - that was where any notion of similarity between them ended. As Isolde builds her name among the Holy Land’s society, Estienne can’t help but remind her how easy it is for them to pull at her strings; despite how she seeks to distance herself from them, they are tied to one another by blood and by name. Though it may be somewhat of an inconvenience for her, it is most advantageous to them - what sort of fool would deny the portrait that they have painted for themselves, that of the new orphaned Wicken heir, sibling of the great Seer of the Holy Land, more or less fated to rise across the Round Table and lead it with no less than the Hundred-Eyed God to guide them?

DAMIEN WARD: Imitator. The ancient story of the Anti-Christ is well known - abomination of the world, a bastard child born of the devil and a mortal, the herald of the end of the world, so on and so forth. An old tale, and a rather tired one if Estienne is being honest. Damien’s time to capitalize on whatever influence he may have had has long passed, his name is as withered and dead as the God and Devil that it was once associated with. From what Estienne can tell of their friends within the Infernum kingdom, there is a general sense of restlessness that stokes their debates in the conclave, a need for someone, anyone, to satiate their hunger for more than the lull that they seem to have fallen into. Luckily for them, Estienne has heard of the shortcomings - namely, Damien’s - and is more than happy to give them the thrill and excitement that they so crave. 

ORIAS: Muse. There are very few things that Estienne finds genuinely beautiful aside from their own reflection - in fact, they can count the number of times they have used that very word upon one hand. But Orias is the exception that proves the rule. It comes as no surprise that a demon as primordial as they  would incite such unabated fascination from the person who considers themself and only themself worthy of adoration? From the moment they laid eyes upon them, their attention became fixated, like that of a wolf locking its gaze with that of a deer. Perhaps they want to draw the false prophet closer only to sink their teeth into their neck and draw out blood. After all, there is a sort of morbid fascination that accompanies the destruction of something - someone - so beautiful and pure. Crushing a creature as primordial and powerful as Orias within their palm should be enough of a trophy to satisfy them for centuries to come. 

RYUK: Thorn. It’s not because they’re jealous of him. And it’s most certainly not because he was the only entity to ever tell them no. So when directly asked, Estienne chooses to say nothing because they don’t want to be seen as a liar either. When Estienne first asked him to visit their chambers, it was purely for business reasons, of course. They wanted to show Death that they feared nothing, not even him, and were promptly denied without so much as an apology. It was a slight that Estienne was, admittedly, poorly prepared to deal with. Since then, that slight has been as vexing as a hangnail - bearable but annoying nonetheless. But Estienne has nothing but time and resources to waste away, so they might as well spend as much of it as they can reminding Ryuk that those who deny them are meant to suffer. 

Estienne is portrayed by Davidson Obennebo* and was written by ROSEY. They are currently OPEN.

[rirururu]

Okay, this turned out way more angst than I thought it would ;-; I hope you enjoy it anyway! I think the next prompt I do will be more light-hearted and less plot oriented.

Also, GUYS! Please check out the amazing art that IchigoJam2009 has drawn for my fanfics. They've done four so far: two for Green-Eyed and Yellow Hair that had me laughing and squealing, one for Love at First Song that gave me so much warmth to see, and one for How to be a Good Boyfriend that made me smile. I went back and edited my work to include the art at the bottom of the page of the first chapter of each of these fanfics so please take a look and give the artist lots of love! ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

Click here for ao3 version or go to “Keep Reading.”

If Zenitsu had to describe Kaigaku in one sentence, it would be two-faced.

He acted sweet around Gramps, around their neighbors, and around everyone who knew Zenitsu on a deeper level than just face and name. He only found this out when the two of them were forcefully paired together on a history project at their college. The older boy made it no secret as soon as he heard the news that he’d rather choke on a fish than work with him.

And come on! That’s just going too far- Zenitsu was at least better than a fish! It was inconsiderate. It was brash. It was immature, AND he’d belted it out right in front of their professor like that rebel in every high school movie. They were adults now. Please accept some responsibility and filter out your words or else no one will like you!

Back then, Kaigaku had done nothing but tsk and look away.

Their relationship continued like that for a while. The blue-haired heart throb was an angel around others, complimenting them for the most mundane of things. Sakura-chan got one inch cut off her hair? He was the first to notice and comment. Murata bought a new pair of shoes? He’d ask where he got it from because they were cool (they absolutely weren’t). But if it was Zenitsu who walked in with his hair cut shorter or in a washed dress shirt, smile on his face, Kaigaku would ask why he’s trying so hard and that it was pathetic to watch. It hurt. It embarrassed him and made him want to go home. His day always seemed darker after. He won’t deny that.

No matter how high Zenitsu’s grades were, not once did he suck up to him for their project. On the contrary, he’d judge each of his movements on the keyboard with disdain. Outrage over why his forefinger kept hitting the wrong button, or how dare he interpret this piece of music in that way were common in the form of insults thrown on him. Clutching three textbooks between himself and the other boy, he’d just cry and cower away like always.

The weirdest thing was this whole thing probably intrigued Zenitsu more than it should have.

Am I going insane?!

Probably.

Girls never hesitated to throw nice words around. They’d treat Zenitsu well, put on a pretty smile and a curtsy if it got him to pay for their food or jewelry more time (Why do you need two bracelets? You’re going to question my tastes? Rude. I’m sorry-! Please buy as much as you want!). It may’ve been a day or a week or even a month later, but it wasn’t long before Zenitsu spotted them again under the arm of another guy at the mall. The clink of matching bracelets accompanied the crushing melody of his heart breaking.

Kaigaku wasn’t like that around him though.

He gave him attention. It was painful. But it was still the attention that he’d never gotten from anyone else except Gramps before.

So when on the day that their project was handed in, Kaigaku wordlessly shoved him into a deserted lecture hall and crashed his lips against his, Zenitsu didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He accepted those arms around him, even as one hand pushed painfully against his shoulder and his back was bruised by the chalkboard.

He properly freaked out after. He was just kissed by a guy. He just KISSED HIM BACK! All the ladies had to mourn the loss of one more eligible young bachelor for the taking. Wondering where he went wrong, that was only the second time he ever really raised his voice against Kaigaku. The first time was their initial meeting. “W-We definitely need to talk about this…! Y-You can’t just push me around all the time and give off the impression of hating my very existence just to KISS ME LIKE THAT-”

“Everyone hates you.” Kaigaku only wiped his mouth off with the sleeve of his jacket. He scoffed. “You’re weak. You’re dumb as bricks. You’re the ugliest in the class, and you don’t know the first thing about music. Do you seriously think you’ll ever be noticed by someone like me again?”

Zenitsu had never been shut up quicker in his entire life.

Not even one of Gramps’ roundhouse kicks would’ve worked so chillingly well. It was the first time he’d ever experienced the horrible sensation. As their encounters in the empty classroom grew frequent, as the number of times that Zenitsu could call Kaigaku his boyfriend increased, so did the bruises and cuts on his back and arms. Weeks, months, even a whole year passed after their first kiss. He became quieter after that.

But…

People always said he was too loud, so maybe that was a good thing?

Kaigaku was making him a better person. The shame he felt gave birth to affection.

Which made it all the worse when it was ripped from his hands.

Genya was with him at the time. One of the only other people in the college aside from Murata who would hang out with him, the hollowed eyes and sunken shoulders of the blond were alarming him in ways he couldn’t decipher. Finally deciding to take action, he invited his friend out for bowling. In addition to archery, it always helped him relieve his anger and stress and some part of him hoped it would work for him as well.

“I can’t.” Zenitsu had only said, packing his bag without even looking at him. “Kaigaku would get angry if I was alone with someone.”

“What do you mean you can’t- you know what!” Genya was too lost to even comprehend their relationship. Instead, he shifted aside so to pull an unsuspecting Murata into their aisle. “YOU, this guy will come with us too!”

“My name isn’t ‘this guy.’” The black-haired boy was already crying. “Be more considerate to normal people like me.”

Murata did tag along anyway despite complaints. He, too, was worried about Zenitsu and the shared look he had with Genya confirmed their goal of cheering him up. They booked the biggest lane in the hall before even boarding the bus. It was pristine with lights flashing in fun shapes for each type of strike that was thrown. They were even served food in between turns.

It was when Murata excused himself to the bathroom that Zenitsu saw it. Fry halfway to his mouth and Genya lamenting about his score, his sight picks up on a silhouette about five lanes away from them.

It was Kaigaku, lip locked with a girl.

Zenitsu’s vision turned white.

Some part of his ears registers Genya’s voice yelling after him, but he can’t be bothered to interpret what he said. Before he even knows it, he’s dashing out of there as quick as possible. He just- he just had to get away. Anywhere far. That little voice in his head that had been substituted with Kaigaku’s and consequently keeping silent for a year suddenly rains down on him like hail.

Pathetic.

He is.

Not even caring, he bursts into the doors of the first bar that he finds. Zenitsu wasn’t a drinker. He didn’t like the way it clouded his ears and made the sounds of everyone around him murky and dark. Still, he slams his wallet down on the counter. Without pretense, he looks the bartender in the eye with tears pricking its corners. The noise didn’t even make anyone else in the room flinch. “Give me the strongest thing you have.”

The gentleman with a moustache doesn’t question it. This was a bar, after all.

Zenitsu complained about a lot about things. If an essay was a little difficult, he’d say it’s killing him. If he was given too many responsibilities by his classmates, he’d say he’s going to die from all of the stress. It was an exaggeration of course for when he was avoiding the trouble it’d take to do something. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t avoid it. He ran straight to it, wanted to drink and drink aND DRINK until he felt like he was going to die.

He thought Kaigaku was different. He thought that there was actually someone who genuinely liked him and would want to be with him. Stupid, useless Zenitsu with your impossible thoughts! Ah, there it was again. And for each echo, he gulped down another mouthful like it was his life’s nectar.

It didn’t take long for him to become blackout drunk. Everything was hazy. The sounds buzzed like a guitar playing off-tune to a blaring horn. His head hurt. He clutched it but it didn’t go away. And soon enough, Zenitsu couldn’t even remember where he was anymore.

But did it matter?

Suddenly, it felt like nothing did. That part of his head, freed by the restrictions of rational thought, commanded his arms like a puppet. The strings of his mind were his own undoing- for he had his phone clumsily hitting the table as he tried to understand the difference between swipe and press. He eventually did get the device to do what he wanted. Soon enough, he found his body swaying drunkenly to the ring tone as the call connected.

When the brisk sound of breath indicating that someone picked up finally arrives, Zenitsu screams.

He screams because it feels like it’s what he’s been holding it in for months now. His loud voice and obnoxious personality that was stuffed down somewhere deep inside of him since the second Kaigaku started giving him love burst out. The drunk shackles of his brain couldn’t hold them any longer.

Some part of him wonders if he managed to break Kaigaku’s ears with it.

“I HAVE FEELINGS TOO, you ASSHOLE…!” His garbles and noises eventually form words. It’s like a dam is let loose as water drips from his eyes like a clogged tap. He bawls. It’s ugly. He doesn’t care. “You always said I was too cowardly to aim high, BUT I wanted us to move in together in a perfect house with a white-picket fence.” It was a dream of his that didn’t feel so far away since they became a couple. He’d never told anyone but gunned for it with all his heart.

“You keep insisting I’m too stupid to make it anywhere in life, HOWEVER I just got a contract deal with a high-end music company and worked my butt off at an interview JUST SO I COULD AFFORD THE HOUSE SOMEDAY! I WANTED US to cuddle in that home, watch the stars in the night.” Maybe get married one too, Zenitsu doesn’t say. He doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m weak, but I WANT to learn to protect you someday and maybe hope you GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS LONG ENOUGH TO PROTECT ME TOO! So what if you you’re rough and mean? For every scathing remark and for each time you hit me, you’d kiss it better.”

He choked. He could tell he was getting stares from the other patrons of the bar but Zenitsu plowed on anyway. “It was okay. As long as you did that, as long as you love me, everything else that you said or did was just fine! So I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY! I hope you’re happy in your Mercedes-Benz car that your friend bought for you because you manipulated him into thinking you were ill. I hope all of those free lessons you got from our Professors that you spent actually stealing the test answers will help you out in the real world WHEN NO ONE GIVES A CRAP ABOUT YOU ANYMORE! You insist I’m crazy for thinking that anyone else will or can ever love me. But I hope-”

Zenitsu cuts himself off with another sob. This next part was like pulling out teeth to get out, but he had to say it. “-I hope that girl who’s with you finds enough peace within herself to love you, because I just can’t anymore. I just can’t-”

“I’m sorry.”

And that’s when Zenitsu felt his entire world ending.

With a higher tenor and a voice the sound of wind chimes, this person was possibly the furthest from being Kaigaku that he possibly could’ve been. The blond finally rips his phone away from his wet cheek long enough to focus his blurry vision on the screen. Sure enough, the number blaring back at him is one- no, three (three?!) digits off from the one he’s had memorized since the very day that history project ended.

When the person on the line speaks again, Zenitsu finds it hard to comprehend that the other’s irregular breathing pattern indicated that he was crying too. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

What, why are you sobbing? This has nothing to do with you, you know! Zenitsu wants to say, but the embarrassment and horror of the situation finally catches up to him and overrides any urge he has to speak with this stranger. Really- REALLY, Zenitsu?! He pours his heart out, finally gives Kaigaku what he’s been holding in for a year, and he’s too dumb to even send it to the right person. It figures-!

Suddenly, Zenitsu is just so tired.

“It’s fine.” He says instead, voice devoid of emotion. “Sorry for bothering you. It’s my mistake.” Then he hangs up before the other can even reply. Now that he’d shouted every bit of his heart into that call, he can’t find the energy to do much else. So instead of lashing out, instead of repeating his mistake, he wipes his phone back out to the correct number. Maximizing Kaigaku’s chat screen, Zenitsu types out a haphazard message in under three seconds without even looking at the keyboard.

van;t do this anynore

brwaking up witg you

Mind surprisingly clear, he gives the bartender a generous tip and nearly refuses the offer of water that he gets. But after a pat on the back from the surprisingly fatherly man, Zenitsu relents and chugs it down. After assuring him that he was taking public transit back, the blond doesn’t even raise his gaze from the floor as he treads out with heavy footsteps. He doesn’t remember most of the walk back to his dorm room. Everyone else goes about their night as usual, laughing among friends as they carried take-out boxes or homework. The world continues to spin while Zenitsu felt inexplicably dead inside.

He somehow finds his way to his bed. Books are scattered all over it from where Kaigaku had left them just the day before. Zenitsu doesn’t even blink while he shoves the accursed things to the floor before landing face-first in his pillows. The impact agitates that bruise in his stomach that Kaigaku gave him once after failing a test. It made him sick. Before he can sleep though, his phone vibrates.

A call…? It shakes on his blankets but the blond doesn’t answer. He’s too exhausted.

After six rings, it finally stops. Zenitsu thinks it’s the end of it but when it beeps again for voicemail, he nearly jolts out of his wits as that same voice from before fills his room. The wind in its sound soothes him and, for a moment, Zenitsu wonders if he’s imagining it.

“I-I know that wasn’t meant for me!” The other boy on the line is nervous. He can tell. “I shouldn’t have continued listening and invaded your privacy like that. I’m sorry. But if it means anything, I think that dream of yours to live in a perfect home with the one you love is beautiful. I bet you worked really hard for that job and will amaze a lot of people with your music. I don’t think you need to work on protecting anyone, because I know you’re strong enough. A-And-”

“What are you trying to say?” Zenitsu finds himself replying even when he can’t hear him.

“…You can be loved. I believe that with all of my heart.”

At hearing that, Zenitsu breaks. He cries.

Maybe, just maybe, he can.

[aliciameade]

Baby - Ch. 15

Title: Baby Author: aliciameade Rating: *** M *** Pairing: Stephanie Smothers/Emily Nelson Summary:  That tearful kiss shared between Stephanie and Emily wasn't their first—and it certainly wasn't their last.

(Chapter 1)

Also on AO3

(You can buy me a ko-fi if you want to!)

When Stephanie’s cell phone rings with Sean’s name on the screen, she sends the boys to the backyard to play.

“Hello?”

She’s met with the gasping sobs of a broken man. “She’s gone.”

“Sean? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

His voice is strained, choked with tears. “Emily. She’s—someone—”

“Just take a breath. Tell me what happened.”

He does and in that second of silence, Stephanie can hear the chatter of many other people in the background. “She’s gone, Stephanie. I came home and found her…” He breaks into tears again and she works on drumming up her own as she allows a believable amount of time to pass to come to the conclusion he can’t put into words.

It’s not as difficult as she thought it might be to start crying; imagining Emily being murdered is an easy catalyst for tears. “Oh, my God. No!”

“Can you please look after Nicky tonight? I can’t have him here. The police say the house is a crime scene. I can’t let him see this.” He sounds destroyed.

“Yes, of course,” she says, working up plenty of tears. “Anything. Anything for Emily.” Her voice cracks over her name. “Let me know how I can help.”

“You’re a saint. Thank you. I need to go. I’ll call when you can bring Nicky home.”

Stephanie cries in earnest when she sets her phone down. Everything was so easy with Emily by her side but she’s gone and she has to see the last leg of this journey through alone.

Emily will be on a plane now somewhere over the Atlantic. They won’t communicate again for some time; they can’t risk it once the investigation begins. They won’t communicate at all until Stephanie, Miles, and Nicky show up at Emily’s new front door.

Their new front door.

She cries because she misses the woman she loves.

~ ~

~ ~

Three days pass before Sean asks her to bring Nicky home.

The first night had been easy; he was excited to spend the night with Miles. The second, he asked if he could go home and she had to explain that she was watching him for a little while. The third, he cried that he missed his mom and dad.

That had been a difficult night for everyone. Lying to a little boy that he’ll see his parents soon, knowing he’s going to be told his mother is dead when she is very much alive…

If murder wasn’t already an egregious sin, setting it up so a little boy would mourn his mother unnecessarily…

She doesn’t let herself think about it.

When she arrives at Sean’s house, it’s in a far worse state than she and Emily had left it. It’s as though the police upturned every single thing, or maybe Sean had lost his mind when he found his wife strangled in their living room.

There are dark smudges on the walls and counters, fingerprint powder that has been left for someone else to clean up. The white couch is gone, leaving a noticeable void in the heart of the home.

Stephanie keeps an excessive distance between herself and Sean once they’ve hugged in grief. It’s a habit she needs to establish quickly, though it’s not a difficult one. Frankly, she’d like to have nothing to do with the man ever again, let alone be in the same room with him, but to accomplish one she’ll have to tolerate the other.

Nicky’s not ill-placed dramatics of the night previous are absent now and while he’s happy to be home, he doesn’t question why he had to stay at Stephanie’s house. He does ask where his mother is.

Stephanie grits her teeth while Sean tells him to wait in his room and he’ll talk to him soon.

“What did the detective say?” she asks once he’s upstairs. She refuses to ask how Sean’s holding up. It’s clear the answer is, “not well,” but she doesn’t need to be a source of sympathy for him.

“They’re investigating it as a burglary gone wrong. They think whoever did this didn’t expect someone to be home in the middle of the day and panicked.”

“That’s terrible,” she says with fake shock. “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Sean doesn’t seem convinced by that but he doesn’t explicitly disagree. “The police are interviewing everyone she has—had contact with. Don’t be surprised if they reach out to you.”

“No, of course. I’ll do everything I can to help.”

~ ~

~ ~

The funeral is a stark reminder of Emily’s aversion to casual human connection. Stephanie recognizes Emily’s boss, Dennis Nylon, from his advertisements attending with a smattering of similar high-fashion types she assumes to be Emily’s coworkers. To equal levels of astonishment and irritation, Darren, Sona, and Stacy are there with their children as though they gave two shits about Emily beyond either wanting to be her friend so they could tap into her A-list resources or to criticize her lack of helicopter parenting.

No one resembles someone who could be Emily’s mother and that makes Stephanie’s heart hurt. It’s a useful thought to get some tears flowing when she catches Stacy watching her with something akin to suspicion. She doesn’t want to be stoic but to be an emotional wreck would be just as question-inducing.

A thought, a tiny hint of guilt flits through her mind that someone’s daughter is being buried right now and the girl’s mother has no idea.

She blinks it away and holds Miles a little closer.

~ ~

~ ~

She single-handedly organizes the wake; Sean is useless and his mother wasn’t able to come, still recovering from hip replacement surgery, so Stephanie has to do it.

It seems the town’s gossip committee is feeling their own type of guilt for the way they treated Emily and even Stephanie, and she’s forced to grin and bear the brunt of their attempts to rid themselves of such regrets.

“You’re a real saint to help her family out like this,” Darren says sheepishly after having the gall to use one of her own recipes and compliment her vlog after teasing her for so long.

She tries not to flinch; it’s the second time she’s been referred to as such since she took someone’s life and it doesn’t sit well with her. “I’m not a saint. I—Emily’s my friend. She’d do the same for me.”

~ ~

~ ~

Nicky refuses to speak to her when she puts him to bed once everyone’s gone home. She doesn’t blame him; death is confusing and upsetting and she can’t imagine having to deal with it at such a young age. She wishes she could tell him it was all a trick, that his mom is waiting for him and he’ll see her again soon.

She contemplates it briefly but it will only stir more confusion in him and it should be Emily who discusses with him why this happened, not her.

She also can’t trust such a little boy to keep that type of thing a secret from his father.

Instead, she simply says, “I know your mother loves you very much.”

~ ~

~ ~

Another week passes before a detective knocks on her door.

He’s loud and cocky and borderline condescending when he asks her, “Just how close are you to Sean Townsend?”

The question is out of left field and she blinks in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Some of the folks around here mentioned you’ve been spending quite a bit of time at his house.”

“Detective Summerville,” she says as her back straightens and she regrets her nicety of offering him tea, “what are you implying?”

He laughs loudly and holds up his hands as if surrendering. Or in defense. “I’m not implying anything. I was repeating an observation made by others.”

Stephanie finds it convenient that neighbors would only now take notice of her spending time at the house. She’s there far less often than she ever was when “Emily” was alive but now that she’s dead, they begin to gossip that Stephanie’s already swooped in on her grieving widower?

She’s offended, not for that but for the lack of gossip that she spent countless afternoons with Emily while Sean wasn’t home. Why? Because it was two women spending time together?

“I don’t appreciate their implications,” she says defiantly. “If I’m at Sean’s house it’s because I’m helping with his son, who is best friends with my own son. We’re not engaged in some torrid love affair. If that’s what you’re after, you should be taking a closer look at who Sean spends his time with.”

At least the offensive question set up her first breadcrumb perfectly.

It gets his attention and his cockiness shifts to genuine interest. “Is there something in Sean’s life we should be looking at?”

“Try someone.” She says it and then feigns regret as though she shouldn’t have said anything.

The detective pulls a tiny notebook from the breast pocket of his jacket and flips it open while clicking a pen. “Do you have a name?”

She shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself. “I only know what Emily told me.”

“And what is that?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s probably nothing.” She knows he won’t let it go.

“Miss Smothers, we have reason to believe Emily’s homicide wasn’t a burglary gone awry.”

“Why? What did you find?” She knows they found nothing; nothing, that is, but a poorly staged crime scene.

“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that any information you have may be helpful.”

She takes a breath and nods. “Emily told me a few weeks ago that she was going to ask Sean for a divorce.”

That information is definitely new to the detective and he almost quivers with excitement in its revelation. “Did she say why she wanted a divorce?”

“He was—or is, I don’t know—having an affair with his T.A. at the university where he teaches. She was scared, and I’d never seen her scared a day in my life. But she was scared when she told me that. Like she was scared of what he might do if she tried to leave him.”

“And you didn’t think to alert the authorities?”

She sets her jaw firm at the return of his condescension. “I didn’t think he would actually…” She trails off to let Mr. Man-in-Charge reach the conclusion on his own; she’s planted the seed for what might have happened and unless he connects the dots himself, he won’t place enough importance on the theory.

“And are you aware he took out a four million dollar life insurance policy on Emily less than a year ago?”

She hesitates for dramatic effect, then nods. She has to be partially honest now.

“What’s interesting to me, though, is that last month, Emily made you the sole beneficiary. I guess you really were her best friend.”

She nods again. “I told you:  she was scared. She was afraid of Sean, of what he might do. She didn’t want her son to suffer if something happened to her.”

“You talked about the possibility of Sean killing her?”

“Not in so many words, no.” She rubs the back of her neck. Her nerves are real now; she can’t misstep. One chink in the armor is all it will take. “She said she wanted a safety net. Just in case. It’s why we started guardianship paperwork, too.”

“Emily was going to make you the guardian of their child?”

“Like I said: it was all a safety net. A back-up plan in case...well...in case.” She shrugs at the obvious.

“I see. Well, I guess this means you’re getting four million dollars once we finish our investigation into Ms. Nelson’s death. Assuming you had nothing to do with it, of course,” he adds with an unnerving smile.

She ignores his bait. “Does Sean know about me being the beneficiary?”

“Not as far as I know; he hasn’t tried to file a claim or contacted them at all according to the agent. With a payout of this size and with the circumstances, you can expect them to open their own investigation.”

“No, of course,” she says, nodding in understanding. “Do you think I should wait to file for any reason? I don’t want to interfere with your investigation.”

He scribbles in his notebook as he shakes his head, then clicks his pen and puts them both back into his pocket. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for your time, Miss Smothers. We’ll be in touch. If you think of anything else that might be of interest, give me a call.” He hands her a business card and shows himself out of her home.

When the door closes she breathes a sigh of relief and sinks onto the couch to hug a throw pillow to her chest wishing it was Emily.

~ ~

~ ~

Sean finds out about the life insurance policy when Stephanie has to ask for a copy of Emily’s death certificate. She’d tried to avoid going through him but no one would provide her the required documentation because she wasn’t Emily’s next of kin.

“Why would she do that?” He looks almost as broken as he did after Emily’s death. It was clear he had yet to even think about collecting on her death which was, Stephanie supposed, admirable. “That was so I could support Nicky if anything ever happened.”

And that’s exactly what it will be used for. “I don’t know, Sean.” She can’t tell him the reason she told the detective; it’s not yet time for him to know. “But I promise, I’ll help with Nicky in any way I can.”

He agrees to put in the request for the needed paperwork regardless of his confusion and Stephanie offers to make dinner for him.

It’s the least she can do, given the circumstances. It’s the least she can do as she slowly takes everything that ever mattered to this poor man.

~ ~

~ ~

He learns a week later that Emily’s put into her will that should anything happen to Sean, custody of Nicky is to be granted to one Stephanie Smothers.

He shows up on Stephanie’s doorstep irate, pounding on her front door demanding to know what he did to deserve this.

She calms him down with chamomile tea and reassurances that Emily’s decision was only in Nicky’s best interest and Sean has nothing to worry about. That the guardianship will only be enacted should something happen to him as well and surely, nothing will change.

~ ~

~ ~

Sean is arrested three weeks later.

According to the news, he is a possessive husband who was engaging in a torrid affair with a college student. He snapped when his successful wife found out and tried to divorce him. He’d strangled her with a rope (the police had found a rope just like it in his gardening shed) in a fit of rage, then staged the house to make it look like someone had broken in to burglarize the home. Much of her jewelry appeared to be missing and the police uncovered one piece, a diamond and ruby necklace, at a pawn shop just a few miles from Warfield.

The shop’s security cameras weren’t recording at the time and no one remembers who sold them the necklace. It’s the only piece of missing jewelry that will ever be found. The rest, Stephanie knows, will be disassembled and sold separately as gemstones and precious metals over time to shops outside the United States.

She rushes to the police station as soon as the breaking news report about his arrest ends. No one has contacted her, but then again, no one would know to do so.

She arrives prepared, a certified copy of Emily’s Last Will and Testament and partially signed guardianship papers in hand should they be necessary.

There’s press everywhere, local news trucks and reporters from New York City are parked outside the station. They pay her no mind and she speaks to the officer at the front desk about the situation and her concern for Nicky Townsend’s well-being, and do they know where he is and if he’s okay?

Her concern is genuine; she doesn’t know how long Sean’s been in jail. She doesn’t know where Nicky is or if he understands what’s happening. He’s surely scared and upset; his life has been in turmoil for weeks since his mother died and now this.

She’s given the name and phone number of a Child Protective Services counselor and several more phone calls are required once she arrives at their office. Calls to lawyers, to law enforcement, to agency directors until she’s signing paperwork stating who she is and where she lives to allow Nicky to be released into her temporary custody.

It’s clear he’s upset: he won’t even speak to Miles on the car ride to her house. She knows he knows what’s happened; the counselor took care of educating him on where his father is, but (of course) not the specifics of why he is there.

She lets the boys have whatever they want for dinner and stay up as late as they want. They build a fort in the living room and the three of them fall asleep there together.

~ ~

~ ~

The trial is arduous. Stephanie watches much of it play out in the news headlines. The jury selection. The recap of the arguments that were made each day. The evidence that was presented. She lives with constant, haunting worry that something will go wrong. That she and Emily made an error along the way. That one day the police will knock on her door with an arrest warrant for the murder of Faith McLanden.

More weeks pass.

She’s called to testify by the state’s prosecution.

“Can you describe your relationship to the victim?”

“Emily Nelson and I were best friends. Our sons are in the same class at Warfield Elementary.”

“Can you please share with the court what you told Detective Summerville on April 26, 2018 with regard to Sean Townsend’s personal relationships?”

Stephanie recounts what she’d told the detective about Emily confiding in her about Sean’s affair, her desire for a divorce, and her fear of the consequences. She’s asked to share the details of becoming the beneficiary of Emily’s life insurance, the guardianship paperwork they’d started, and the temporary custody of Nicky she’s been granted.

Sean’s defense attorney grills her about the details of her relationship with Emily. Why she trusted her so much as to give her millions of dollars. To trust her with her son. He stops short of saying the words, but she knows the implication he’s making. He wants the jury to think there’s more to the story. That Sean wasn’t the only unfaithful spouse.

All he needs to do is put enough doubt in the jurors’ minds to get them to return that Not Guilty verdict.

He doesn’t.

Stephanie watches the sentencing coverage on the news, heart in her throat and tears on her cheeks while she packs.

Sean Townsend will spend forty years in Bridgeport Correctional Center for the murder of Emily Nelson.

Stephanie Smothers is granted sole custody of Nicky Townsend in accordance with Emily’s will.

Stephanie and Miles Smothers and Nicky Townsend are reported missing by a concerned citizen on July 19, 2018.

~ ~

~ ~

(Chapter 16)

[bleuebirdarchive]

TOPIC: analysis of veronica’s childhood & it’s lasting affect 

throughout this analysis, i will be referring back to alice miller’s the drama of the gifted child, as that book is A. one written within the time frame that veronica’s somewhat disconnected parents would have purchased a copy and B. really does a lot to tie into my interpretations of veronica’s relationship with her parents, her childhood, and the way she interprets the world and her feelings.

i. 

veronica, at an early age, was clearly a gifted child. she learned extremely quickly. she walked, talked, and even read at an exceptionally early age. with her parents’ draw towards the more high brow standards that world had to offer, they naturally pushed to nurture her growing intellect. they strived to make their home intellectually stimulating and flooded her with books and games meant to challenge and teach. they read parenting books advising that, in order to raise a respectful child, you should treat them as an equal. however, as is the case with many gifted children, veronica is extraordinarily sensitive. she notices things (injustices, people’s shift in emotions, tones) most people don’t see, she has an overwhelming sense of empathy that eats at her, and her emotions are, and have always been, too much for her to handle or process properly. the sawyers aim to treat veronica as an equal, as an adult, over shot her need for understanding and affection. her outward intelligence is misread at a maturity beyond her years and the oversized feelings she bore were taught to be repressed and ignored. as miller describes it, veronica developed ‘the art of not experiencing feelings’ to please her disaffected parents. even in her few acts of attempting to relay her feelings, she was often misunderstood, chastised, and sent to print her thoughts to paper, privately.

These people have all developed the art of not experiencing feelings, for a child can experience her feelings only when there is somebody there who accepts her fully, understands her, and supports her. If that person is missing, if the child must risk losing the mother’s love or the love of her substitute in order to feel, then she will repress her emotions. She cannot even experience them secretly, “just for herself”; she will fail to experience them at all. But they will nevertheless stay in her body, in her cells, stored up as information that can be triggered by a later event.

ii. 

veronica’s position as an only child ( a gifted, ‘different’, child even more so ) teamed with her lack of an opportunity to express her feelings verbally and to others leaves her socially underdeveloped. despite all of her natural charm and charisma, she does not feel as though she fits in or connects with children her own age, or people at large. the mix of being a social outsider unable to form genuine bonds and her parents lack of affection toward her leaves her to be extraordinarily lonely. her only friend is betty finn, but that friendship is thin and superficial, especially when we think about childhood and how that lends to deeper bonds within friendships. in reality, veronica’s sole companion is her diary (and her cat, jfk, which she receives around her 10th birthday). veronica is not someone that simmers on her sadness or her self pity, but this extremely profound loneliness manifests itself in a lot of ways. some are more positive: her need to speak up for others, to right wrongs she sees in the world, and to be some kind of beacon of kindness for the underdogs. but more often, they’re not: self injury, acting out, and, especially, turning that pain into anger. the last of those definitely makes itself known the older she gets (particularly in the time frame of the film).

The function all expressions of contempt have in common is the defense against unwanted feelings. Contempt simply evaporates, having lost its point, when it is no longer useful as a shield—against the child’s shame over his desperate, unreturned love; against his feeling of inadequacy; or above all against his rage that his parents were not available [...] Nevertheless, if we avoid this mourning it means that we remain at bottom the one who is despised, for we have to despise everything in ourselves that is not wonderful, good, and clever. Thus we perpetuate the loneliness of childhood: We despise weakness, helplessness, uncertainty—in short, the child in ourselves and in others.

furthermore, this disconnect with others is perpetuated by veronica’s very self. she is a beautiful, intelligent, and charming girl. everything about her reads as open for projection for the people around her, who decide they already know her. in every aspect of her life veronica is met with people that have decided on who she is for themselves  :  this makes any attempt on her end to communicate or express herself a frustrating experience as she is nearly always misunderstood. had this not so closely mirrored her relationship with her parents, she may have been able to take it better in stride.

[...] they are aware of having been misunderstood as children, they feel that the fault lay with them and with their inability to express themselves appropriately.

iii.

factoring in her genius i.q. it’s not hard to see why her parents fell a bit short of understanding her. as capable as she is, as self sufficient and independent, they did not feel a need to hold her hand as she went. they wanted to avoid an ego on her, and so her accomplishments were always overlooked or treated as an expectation. winning science fairs, getting good grades, and even being published later in life: there was no fanfare at the sawyer home. there is no drive in her to excel, as well as a notable lack of competitive spirit, because she has never felt pride or excitement in what she can do or has done: there was nobody to share that thrill with. veronica solved her problems the same way she handled everything in her life: alone. while she is more than happy to lend a hand, people expressing their own emotions or struggling to be independent can leave her a little irritated and confused.

People who, as children, were intellectually far beyond their parents and therefore admired by them, but who also therefore had to solve their own problems alone. These people, who give us a feeling of their intellectual strength and will power, also seem to demand that we, too, ought to fight off any feeling of weakness with intellectual means. In their presence one feels one cannot be recognized as a person with problems just as they and their problems were unrecognized by their parents, for whom he always had to be strong.

also in consideration regarding the lack of a response toward her successes ( positive or negative ), as a child, veronica definitely felt as if she was letting them down. she downplays her intelligence and is dissatisfied with her choices no matter what ( i.e. the scene with jd after croquet and the ‘some genius’ dialogue ). veronica wants to please people, however deeply buried this want is, and feels an immense amount of guilt when she feels she has disappointed them in some way.

Many people suffer all their lives from this oppressive feeling of guilt, the sense of not having lived up to their parents’ expectations. This feeling is stronger than any intellectual insight they might have, that it is not a child’s task or duty to satisfy his parents needs. No argument can overcome these guilt feelings, for they have their beginnings in life’s earliest periods, and from that they derive their intensity and obduracy.

conclusion

veronica has a number of issues with emotional intelligence and communication, and with bonding with others. all of this stems back to her parents missing the mark on raising a gifted child and not meeting her emotional needs. as a conclusion, since it’s difficult for me to write a better summation of her childhood-rooted issues, i’m including a quote from this post:

emotional loneliness is so distressing that a child who experiences it will do whatever is necessary to make some kind of connection with the parent. These children may learn to put other people's needs first as the price of admission to a relationship. Instead of expecting others to provide support or show interest in them, they may take on the role of helping others, convincing everyone that they have few emotional needs of their own. Unfortunately, this tends to create even more loneliness, since covering up your deepest needs prevents genuine connection with others.