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hazamacore · 1 month ago

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Eva's crow motif & Wolfgang's sheep motif - the relevance of animals in Project: Eden's Garden going forwards

As a disclaimer, Wolfgang of course has two animal motifs - the sheep and the wolf. In this specific post I will only cover the former as I believe it is most relevant in relation to Eva and this first chapter in general. I personally think that his wolf motif will become more apparent as the story progresses and Wolfgang continues to haunt the narrative. As for Eva - many of the things attributed to crows also apply to ravens and some have absolutely pointed out the associations ravens specifically have (Aesop's fables, the Tower of London myth, Edgar Allen Poe) that relate to Eva. I will not be touching on that in this post and am instead focusing on the different species of crow.

With that out of the way - major spoilers for chapter one of Project: Eden's Garden ahead!

& This is a text only version of my tiktok post, if you are more visual and would prefer to read it there!

WOLFGANG & THE SHEEP

The most blatant is that sheep hold great Biblical significance not least because Jesus Christ himself is referred to as the "Lamb of God" and the term "sacrificial lamb" derives from exactly that in Christ's sacrifice to atone the sins of humanity. Wolfgang as a Christ-like figure being killed by Eva named after the first to sin paints the perfect picture for the commencement of the killing game.

Wolfgang is treated by the majority of the cast, barring Eva, Damon and arguably Ulysses and Wenona, as a "saviour". The most explicit example of this thinking is asserted by Desmond after Eva's trial as he refers to Wolfgang as "one of the only people who could've handled this situation" who could have "made progress on escaping". He acts as this guiding light towards salvation for them as sheep are social, flock animals, and shepherds symbols of guidance. Until he is killed and the ideas of atonement and salvation die with him, even as Diana attempts to "resurrect" his image.

"And he gave unto them commandments, that they should worship the Lord their God, and should offer the firstlings of their flocks, for an offering unto the Lord. And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord." (Bible, Moses 5:7, Adam and Eve sacrifice a lamb to God)

If we take Tozu's role in the academy and killing game to be equivalent to that of God, then his animal motif being a ram/goat neatly links to Wolfgang's sheep and Christ symbolism. Tozu is the father, Wolfgang is the son, and Eva (as the bird) is the Holy Spirit and all three are bound together as one in this murder case that implicates them all. Not to mention how Eva literally sacrifices Wolfgang, the lamb, to Tozu, the God.

Shakespeare is an interesting perspective to take into account considering Tozu's theatrical nature and the consistent references to theatre within P:EG (EG: Tozu referencing Horace in the prologue). In Shakespeare's plays, sheep are often symbolic of vulnerability and used as a means of "peripeteia" - the turning point where the narrative's tone darkens. Wolfgang's murder, the first murder, abides by this perfectly. His death symbolises the death of any semblance of order and justice within this situation and opens the way for the killing game to truly begin.

"We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at the other: what we changed Was innocence for innocence." (William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, 1.2.85-7)

While lambs are symbolic of sacrifice in many cultures, they are not entirely passive and become aggressive when cornered, usually by gearing up to ram or buck. This reflects how aggressive Wolfgang becomes when drugged and essentially herded in a corner by Eva, leading him to lash out at Diana. Wolfgang is the only character whose animal motif is an animal classed as livestock which is another way upon his sacrificial lamb symbolism that he was destined to die - he has been slaughtered and his metaphorical fleece has been repurposed for Diana to wear instead.

EVA & THE CROW

Firstly, crows tend to be seen either solitary or paired in nature. While they can be social animals, this is not the trend. Instantly this relates to how Eva has endured isolation and exclusion throughout her life, including in the academy. Damon is the first person she forms any sort of bond with and from the moment they wake up in the same area they are cemented as a "pair". P:EG overall has "pairs" as an extremely prominent theme due to the entire concept of Eden.

Her isolation can connect also to how crows have been observed to hold grudges. Eva's history as a victim of bullying instilled in her a victim complex and "me vs them" mentality where she takes any sort of negative reaction as "proof" that people are out to get her - something her Ultimate peers triggered with their mocking of her actual talent and confusion over her lies alike. Her targeting of Wolfgang was based in a grudge born from him singling her out as untrustworthy and how she believed he was turning everyone against her with his influence. Crows are opportunistic creatures - Eva saw the opportunity to get rid of Wolfgang and frame Diana in one fell swoop and took it. Much of her plan relied on that opportunity.

General populations deem crows largely as pests and they are, as a result, vulnerable to hunting by humans which ties into not only how Eva was and believed she was viewed by her peers, but also in how she was being "hunted" by Tozu every moment she did not kill after claiming the perk. That traitor's perk giving Eva access to the cameras essentially provided her with a "bird's eye view" of the happenings around the academy - something made further apparent by how she was watching from right above the murder as it happened.

Crows are known widely as thieves much like magpies both in the sense of them stealing prey from predators and the reputation they have gained in many human cultures for stealing precious items for their nests. It does not feel unintentional, then, that her plan saw her steal from her peers' rooms ("nests") to kill her prey. Additionally, crows have been reported to cause power outages through contact with power lines/poles which directly parallels the blackout during Eva's murdering of Wolfgang.

Most glaringly is how crows hold the familiar associations with evil and the Devil in Gael culture; in the 18th century, shepherds in the Scottish highlands would make offerings to hooded crows ("hoodies") to deter them from attacking sheep.

"In Pennant's Tour in Scotland (1771) there is described a curious ceremony in which offerings were made by Scottish herdsmen to the hooded crow, eagle and other enemies of sheep to induce them to spare the flock. (...) The crow killed lambs and annoyed sickly sheep." - Ernest Ingersoll, 1923, Birds in legend, fable and folklore, p.165

This blatantly links to Eva's murder victim being Wolfgang, whose animal motif is literally a sheep to her crow. The only "offering" made to Eva was Diana's extension of friendship, but at that point the crow had already taken flight. The hooded crows indigenous to the highlands would migrate down to the more temperate southern England during winter where they gained the local name "Royston crows" due to how they feasted on the carcasses of sheep in the sheep fields of Royston, Herfordshire.

In Shintoism, crows are associated with the idea of rebirth after tragedy strikes due to the image of them feasting on the slain after great battles. Much like Wolfgang's "Lamb of God" symbolism, this will likely come to fruition in Eva's presence never truly dying, that she will be remembered after death, and that Diana will "resurrect" her image just as she is attempting to do with Wolfgang.

So: HOW MUCH SHOULD WE CONSIDER THE ANIMAL MOTIFS GOING FORWARDS?

The plain and simple answer is that it depends and must be applied on a case by case basis. Our analysis cannot start and end with the animal motifs nor can it hinge on them as they are one angle of analysis among many - most prominently Biblical allusions and characterisation and, above all, how all of these aspects link to each other. For instance, you cannot just say "this character will kill because their animal motif is a predator" because there are far more layers to it than that.

The animal motifs are important and should not be disregarded as Diana, Eva and Wolfgang have proven - they just cannot be the sole point of analysis at a stage where we have everyone's characterisation to consider in conjunction with them.

For example, while Wolfgang's sheep motif is absolutely relevant and noteworthy, I don't personally think there is as much to say about it as Eva's crow motif based on what we have so far. How it acts as a springboard for Wolfgang's Biblical allusions especially RE his Christ symbolism is the most notable element of it so far in my opinion. And this could very well be because he has two animal motifs for us to sink our teeth into - I just have not found enough with him and the wolf to warrant a full discussion yet.

My thoughts on his wolf motif becoming more relevant later on in the story relates in part to his name, Wolfgang, meaning "travelling wolf" and being taken from an actual German saint in Christianity - which connects deftly to how Wolfgang is already being treated postmortem. In his book "Teutonic Mythology", Jacob Grimm defines the name as one held by a victorious hero. Overall, I think the wolf beneath sheep's clothing is yet to be truly revealed.

On the whole, Wolfgang and Eva prove without a doubt how important and relevant everyone's animal motifs will be beyond mere aesthetics - as does Diana's speech at the end of the chapter! What must be taken into account when looking into what everyone's motifs could mean is their individual characterisations and other elements of their characters. The animal motifs are only one piece of the puzzle, but they are a necessary piece in my opinion.

Thank you for reading please feel free to add more thoughts! I have no doubt I missed stuff, especially in regards to Wolfgang's sheep motif. There is absolutely something to say about him and being an undesirable “black sheep” in relation to his background but those thoughts aren’t fleshed out enough at the moment.

#smiles oh so normally #★: p:eg #project eden's garden #wolfgang akire #eva tsunaka

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gremlinmodetweeker · 6 months ago

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What König Likes to Read

König is a big guy, but he's not just a muscle head. He's actually highly intelligent. See, when you're as socially ostracized as König was growing up, you learn to find ways to keep yourself busy. When your dad is a professor of agriculture and your mom's a vet tech (as discussed in this post), you learn a lot about animals. With all that time on your hands, you read a lot too.

Growing up, König spent his time reading. He loved reading more than anything else. He would read anything he could get his chubby little hands on. His parents were more than happy to encourage his interests (especially because they didn't destroy the house like Stephen's 'science experiments') and so he was showered with books about anything that caught his attention. When he was young, they gave him almost an entire library on wolves and bears, and then he got books on birds, then plants (his father was delighted by this), and then natural disasters, and the list goes on. All in all, König was a nature kid with an entire library of textbooks at the age of twelve.

König loved to read outside too. He could often be seen after school grabbing a survival manual from off his shelf and then scurrying out the backdoor. His mother eventually gave up on chasing him down into the wilderness and instead got a cow bell off a client to summon him back home before dark. His sister called him a bull. He called her a cow. He got an hour long lecture for that one.

König never stopped reading when he got older. Eventually, he branched out of nonfiction to read fiction and became enraptured by classical literature. When he was going through his goth phase, you could catch him outside twirling his long dyed hair in his finger and reading Edgar Allen Poe, a german-to-english dictionary on his knee to reference at every other line. His peers laughed at him and called him names, but he ignored them. The world of poetry called to him.

He got into Russian poetry when he left to the military. His grandfather told him nobody would take him seriously, but his bunk mate had him reading to him every night. In the morning, they'd break it down over breakfast.

When König joined the military to be a sniper, he became a gun nut. He knew all the models in the Austrian military and all the accompanying ammo and attachments. He was reading up skills and strategies every night to absorb as much as he could. However, reading didn't help him get in, so he turned his sights to the next best option.

By the time König was in the Jagdkommando, everyone flocked to him just to learn from him about surviving the wilderness. He was unused to the popularity at first, but he flourished in their company and soon became a core member of his class. He flew through the survival training, sometimes even outsmarting his teachers. Did this do him any favours? Not really, but it paid off in the end. He graduated at the top, and nobody could argue his abilities.

When he rose the ranks to becoming a colonel, he invested hundreds in books on warfare and strategy. He was a walking talking encyclopedia on the Roman conquest of Britain and the Secret Intelligence during World War 2. He was unstoppable. His overseers were impressed by his knowledge and he was rewarded greatly.

Now, since joining KorTac, he may have lost his rank officially but everyone around him reveres him for his skills. He's the closest you can get to an expert in his areas of interest. He likes having more time on the field, but he misses more time to read. Nowadays, he always has about four books on the go at a time. One nonfiction, one self help, one classical literature, and one silly 'potato chip' novel. He feels very guilty reading potato chip novels.

So, in the end, König has become extremely knowledgeable about animals, plants, survival skills, first aid, classical history, military history, classical literature and poetry. He also has a surprising amount of knowledge about finances, cooking, cars, weather phenomena, and agriculture/gardening.

He is also a reading snob. If you tell him you read romance novels in public, he'll scoff at you and tell you that romance is silly and overrated. If you ask him in private, he'll gush about the relationships in Les Miserables and Wuthering Heights. He may normally like horror, thriller, action, suspense and mystery, (oh, and military or historical ofc) but genuinely he'll take whatever he can get. He has a beautiful gilded set of Lord of the Rings in a deluxe slipcase that holds a prime place on his bookshelves. He also holds a special place in his heart for sci-fi. He even enjoys westerns, such as Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.

All in all, König loves reading. It's his favourite way to spend his free time. If he can't sit down and read, he'll have an audiobook going. He's the type of nerd to set up a playlist to have going while listening to an audiobook. He's genuinely such a book nerd. At this point, the only person who will listen to him is Hutch, and they get along quite well (except for the one time that Hutch said Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was better than Dracula, which led to a month-long feud between the two). König is always looking out for fellow book lovers, but the last time he tried to join a book club he ate an entire plate of cookies within the first half and hour of the meeting and was written off the invites list.

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so-long-soldier-writes · 9 months ago

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It's a Cruel Summer, With You

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai's never had anyone tell him they love him. he panics when he hears it for the first time.

tags: based on cruel summer by taylor swift, mild enemies to lovers, drinking / alcohol, secret relationship, summer love, love confessions, fear / panic, past trauma affecting relationships, emotional hurt, unrequited love (but not really), break-up, heartbreak, unhappy ending, one teensy edgar allen poe reference

word count: 5k

a/n: anon, i apologize once more for the amount of time this took! i hope you like it, and i hope i did taylor swift justice. 🩷 i also hope it makes sense bc sometimes i feel like my thoughts are just all over the place 😅

You were staring daggers into the back of his head, three days after a drastic turning point in their lives. And he, feeling your eyes upon him, turned to face you and smiled. That enraged you like nothing else; no man had ever had such an audacity with you, to raise the hell that he had and still offer a smile. You looked back down at your drink, still fuming, and still aware of him watching you, and texted your friends about it. One replied with an equal disgust, another sent a funny-to-her joke, and there was no response from the third.

“Maybe he’s got a sweet spot for you,” she had said.

“Ha.”

A sweet spot that’d make him kill you last, maybe.

You rolled your eyes exhaustedly, but by the time you looked back down, someone had slunk into the booth across from you. You jumped, then rolled your eyes a second time at the realization of who it was.

“Hey cutie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kai shrugged, unbothered. He kept eye contact with you in a way that made it hard to look away; his blue eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. They weren’t bright, like Damon’s, but instead had a touch of darkness in them. Like storm clouds rolling in on a bright, sunny day. They threaten rain, but you’re not sure if the downpour will come today or tomorrow.

Kinda like how he came into Mystic Falls.

“What do you want?” You bit, after about thirty seconds of staring.

“Are you scared of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of me?” He repeated, eerily softly.

“Why would you think that?” Forced bravery is better than none, especially when faced with Kai Parker.

“There’s a slight tremor in your voice. Only one finger touches the table, as if you’re unable to settle. You struggle to meet my eyes.”

“What are you, a psychologist?”

“I’m a sociopath.”

Shocker.

“So?”

“I notice things.” He took a sip of your coffee. Reached out across the table, met your eyes, and sipped your drink. Again, the audacity. “I spent a lot of my childhood isolated. I had a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they were all taught to be afraid of me. I know how to read the signs.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s what they’d say, too.”

“Well I’m not your siblings, and I’m not putting up an act. I don’t trust you, and I think you’re an ass, but I’m not afraid of you.” Your statement’s bold, but he had struck something fierce in you. A nerve, maybe on purpose, that wasn’t going to let him win this time.

Kai smiled at that. His gaze dropped to the table, surveying your hands once more. His own pointer finger dragged along the wood. “I like you, Y/N. You’re plucky.”

The words took a moment to register - Kai saying he liked you. Kai didn’t like anyone.

He got up to leave, causing you to turn towards him, prepared to jump out of the booth if you had to. “Well don’t.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I don’t want you to like me. I want nothing to do with you; you said it yourself, you’re a sociopath, and I don’t need that kind of bad energy in my life.”

That seemed to be funny to him, judging by the way he chuckled. “Okay, Y/N.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I won’t like you then.”

And with that, he was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t gone - gone. Kai was never gone - gone from anything, even when people yelled at him to leave. He would disappear for a couple days, but he always came back.

And somehow, after your interaction, you’d see him more frequently at the grill, too. He’d never talk to you, but you could feel his gaze. His stone cold blues would linger on you, almost like an animal stalking prey.

It made you anxious, jittery. But somewhere, secretly, also a bit excited.

He was dangerous in a way that drew you in. He had this aura about him that intrigued you as much as it scared you. You knew what he had done, and what he was capable of, and yet he still occupied the curious corners of your mind.

And somehow, he seemed to know that.

♫

How it happened from there is something you still question. Death glares became stolen glances, became blushing smiles, and by the next time he joined you at your booth, you didn’t try to fight him off. Kai ordered an uncharacteristically pink cocktail to match your own tropical choice. Neither said much as you both drank the rum mixtures down to the ice. You communicated in eye contact, mostly, as if daring the other to speak. Your stubborn personalities that should’ve clashed seemed to meld together instead. An intense staring contest was born. You found yourself entertained in the game, and quickly, enjoying it, too.

The booze soaked your brain as you continued to drink; your thoughts were fuzzy, and whenever you tried to catch them, they’d dissipate like cotton candy dropped in water. When Liv closed the restaurant around midnight, she unknowingly crashed the floodgates that weakly stood between you two. Ten feet out onto the street, you fell into him and he held you up. You laughed in his arms, partly due to your own drunken state, but partly that it’s Kai keeping you on your toes. He held you tight until you found your footing, just for you to crash your lips onto his unsuspecting own. The witch, taken aback but not opposed to it, let you taste him for a moment before kissing back. He pushed you up to the nearest wall, feeling and exploring, before hailing a ride back to your place.

It had been forever for both of you. The uber driver with a ‘no touching’ rule sobered you up a little, but not enough to make you think twice about it. By the time he laid you down on your sheets, any doubt in your mind had fizzled out. He was a gentle lover, much to your surprise, likely because it was such an unfamiliar feeling to be so intimate with another. The little control you tried to take was met with a laugh, and you understood the signal. You didn’t mind being underneath him, though, nor did you mind him staying the night.

Guilt struck you when you first woke up in his arms, but not enough to barr yourselves from meeting again. The first few times you had to be drinking to convince yourself it was okay, but the more morning-afters you spent together, the less ashamed you started to feel. With time, nights started to feel less like hookups and more like something else. He became something you adored when you had, and craved when you did not. The feelings were mutual, though harder to pull out from the siphon, until you asked him directly, putting both your hearts out for the other to grab.

“What are we?” You asked, head leaning on the vending machine as he fetched himself a post-high gatorade. A bag of cookies were held in your own hand from the exchange you made one minute prior.

“Having fun,” Kai replied.

“Kai…”

“Or so I think,” he followed his words, questioning the look on your face.

“Are we anything more? Will we ever be?”

A loud voice down the hall that vaguely resembled his sister made a sharp remark to another person. His response sounded closer, as if they were heading in your direction. Kai grabbed your arm and muttered a simple cloaking spell until they both passed. Liv and Tyler both disappeared into her room, then Kai removed his hand. His touch lingered on your skin for a moment. You’ve grown to quite like the feeling.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’m not exactly the person for relationships, if you aren’t aware. I’m a sociopath that was locked in complete isolation for eighteen years.”

“I don’t care.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I like you. I don’t want this to stop. I want it to be more.”

“I’m not built for this.”

“But do you want it?”

His mouth went dry as he already knew the truth. He did. He wanted you so much, but fear held him back like a dog on a leash. He didn’t have much slack. “I want you,” he finally said. “I want this to work.”

“I’m not good at relationships, either. We’re figuring this out together.”

Kai seemed to accept that better, and two minutes later, he climbed back under the sheets with you, turning on a movie and sharing snacks until you fell asleep.

♫

As your relationship progressed, it was tested, like all relationships ever are. You grew closer, more comfortable, as summer went on. Much of your time spent together was at night; you hadn’t told your friends, not ready for their questions nor their judgment, nor did you want the word out to his coven yet, afraid of whatever wrath his father could bring if he were to disapprove. You were still figuring things out, still learning about each other, and testing yourselves through time, and that was okay. Life isn’t something to be learned in a day, it’s something in which to be present to see where it takes you.

So, you let yourselves live, to do just that. On top of rooftops and beside small creeks, you snuck out to enjoy each other’s company. Mystic Falls has a lot of places to hide if you know where to look.

A couple times, you’ve almost ran into others. More than anyone being Liv and Tyler, also avoiding her father. Once, you’ve ducked under bushes to hide from Bonnie. Kai kissed your neck while his hand was clamped over your mouth, daring you to give away your position, while playfully inhibiting your chance to do so.

Sometimes, you were drunk when you found yourselves venturing the town together. The bar in which neither Matt nor Liv worked became a hotspot for you. But instead of ending the night short, you opted to explore the late hours in each other’s company. The alcohol wore off quickly, but the drunkenness brought on by your unconfessed love never did.

Kai, as it turns out, was easy to fall in love with. He was charming when you first met, but you were tickled to learn that underneath his manipulation tactics, he could be just as endearing authentically. He was a jokester and a flirt, whether across a room when you’d spot each other in public, or when you were hanging out together alone. You were never afraid to be alone with him. If your friends knew you were out with him, alone, at night, they would’ve freaked, but he always made you feel safe. And, once he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you, he revealed a side that could be sweet, too.

Even after arguments, you were able to patch things up as if they hadn’t happened. Sometimes, he’d be bristling and volatile, but you knew that a lot of his anger came from a place of fear. You learned what to say that would calm him down; you told him what he needed to hear to feel safe again. You’d provide him with the comfort he’d always desired, and when he settled, he’d melt into your touch and softly request forgiveness.

You complimented each other perfectly. And while it took you a moment to name the emotion, the feeling had been there all along. It was love.

♫

You were only slightly drunk the first time you realized the truth. Kai was painted in perfect, purple lighting, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when they met yours. You stumbled towards him and put your arms around his neck. He caught you, hands finding your waist. The music seemed to fade out as you swayed with him to the beat. It was as if a bubble captured you both, drowning out the rest of the world, making him your world, and in that moment, nothing else existed. You kissed him quickly, desperately, like an addict gone too long without a hit. He met you halfway, equally addicted.

And then, because you were young, and stupid, and courageously in love, you blurted out the words swimming restlessly in your mind,

“I love you.”

You looked up at him, not expecting an answer just yet, but to offer an encouraging smile. Before your gaze even reached his, his body tensed. His hands felt like ice upon your nervously warmed skin, and his once-strong grip on your waist loosened. Kai wore an expression of confusion, different from the emotion that you tasted on his lips. You opened your mouth to retract the words, but nothing came out. The bubble that consumed you seemed to crack; the music previously blocked filled your eardrums once again.

A fraction of a second later, you were guided to a hallway by your fingertips. The narrow path reduced some of the music, but most of the traffic. The man of your affection took to one wall, leaving you in the middle. You tried for his hand after he let it go, but dropped it at the discomfort he seemed to feel in having you hold it.

You racked your brain for the right words, but nothing seemed perfect. You stared at the ground beneath your feet for a half second longer until he spoke,

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t. What did I do wrong?” He only shook his head, prompting you further. “Was it what I said or when I said it? Because I don’t think it’s wrong of me to confess what I feel for you when I know that it’s true.”

“It can’t be true. You can’t feel that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Provide me with a reason,” you interrupted, “or let me do as I please. I want to love you. I do, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“Y/N-”

“We’ve had some tough times together, I know we have, but we’ve gotten through them. We - us, together - have worked through so much to get here. Of course I love you, there’s so much effort and, and, love, that connects us.” You paused, letting your thoughts catch up to your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to acknowledge it, if you’re not ready. I know it’s a big step.”

“You can’t go there, Y/N.”

“I know, okay, maybe it was too much, too soon. I’m sor-”

“No, you can’t ever go there. You can’t love me and you shouldn’t. I’m not designed for relationships, they’re not meant for me. Do you not remember the things I’ve done?”

“We’ve talked about this, Kai. You confided in me about your fears, but we handled them, I thought. Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do, but-”

“‘Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.”

“By Poe,” Kai finished.

“And it’s true. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I want to love you, and I do.”

“But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t excuse the things I’ve done just because you want to see me for someone who I am not. You shouldn’t be so desperate to see a difference in me that you convince yourself you love me.”

“What?! Kai, I’m not excusing nor am I desperate. I know you’re different from the you that wrought pain upon the town. That guy’s gone, buried, with this you in his place. And I quite like this you, and I’ve learned to love him, because his progress is worth loving. He is worth loving. You are.”

“The old Y/N would never say such things about her sworn enemy. You’d never dare hold his hand, nor kiss his lips, nor say such things, because you’d know better, and if you did, it’d be because of some horrible nightmare, or some instance where I spelled you to get what I needed, because Y/N, we’re living in a fantasy, and none of this is real.”

“I don’t understand! This is real! We’re here, together, and we were dancing, and we were happy, and now we’re in this hallway. Still together, but now questioning if the summer we’ve spent together has all been a hoax, or if that’s the booze talking.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You have to be, to think what you’re saying is true.” You paused, heartbroken, and afraid to show it, but pretty sure the choke in your words already had. “So are you saying you’ve never meant it? All the times you’ve kissed me were just folly? Or the nights we stayed up until the sun rose again were only dreams I made up?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I know what we’ve done, and I know we’ve shared moments, but a fantasy is all this is for us. Something we want, but cannot have. We have to wake up some day.”

“I disagree, I think we can make it work.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This was never supposed to be a long-term thing.”

“But we said it could be! We said it could make it work!”

“And that’s what makes it a fantasy! We both know that’s a lie.”

“Kai, I don’t understand. Ten minutes ago, we were fine. Yesterday, you gave me a kiss that swept me off my feet; that replaced all my organs with butterflies; that made me feel like full-bloomed roses on the nicest day of the year. You made me feel cherished, and happy, and beautiful, but now, I feel like I’m on the end of a well-thought out joke, and everyone’s finally allowed to laugh.”

“I’m not saying this to break your heart. I’m just trying to be realistic.” He reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek, but you smacked his thumb away.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but you still tried to talk through them. “I thought we were being realistic when we stayed up talking, all those nights, about how we knew each other’s flaws but were willing to work through them anyway. I would think, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t have spent a whole week together and considered getting an apartment to share, because we work just that well.”

“That only proves my point further. We haven’t been together long enough to make big decisions like that.”

“Then we’ll put it on pause and address it later.”

“Y/N-”

“Why are you doing this? Why does it seem like you’re giving up on us? Why are your words sounding like a preface to a break up?”

“Because they are,” he confessed, “because they have to be.”

“What do you mean, ‘they have to be?’”

“We can’t work. You can’t love me.”

“But I do, and I want to, and we do! We’ve managed to make it work, despite our-”

“But how long do you think we can keep this up? When will our differences outweigh our desires to stay together? When will we tell your friends about us? My family? We are too different for us to work, and I’m too damaged to be loved by you. We have to stop living in this fantasy.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“So what, have you been planning this? Have you been waiting for the perfect time? Funny, that the perfect time seems to be when I tell you I l-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t say it again.”

“What?”

“The less you say it, the less you’ll believe it.”

“That’s bullshit. I believe it in the deepest corners of my heart. You’re etched into my bones. You’re the shimmer of light in the darkest parts of my mind. I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it, and I won’t believe that I’ve made this all up in my mind. It’s okay that you don’t love me, but don’t you dare try to say you feel nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Tell me all the terrible things you’ve done, and let me love you anyway’.”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t. I can’t control my heart nor its desires. It wants you; you have it. Tell me you don’t crave it. I know you crave love, Kai. I know it in the way you kiss me, and in the way you hold me. I know it from the time you confessed, at two in the morning when you were too tired to hold back, and I know it from when you told me, clear as day, on that Wednesday afternoon. I love you, and I’m not afraid to love you. Why don’t you give in to what I know you want?!”

Because your love isn’t mine to take.

Because I don’t deserve it.

Because you’re a gemstone, perfect and pure, and I’m the dirt from which it was pulled.

“Because I don’t feel the same for you,” he said instead, “I’m not capable of love. I’m a sociopath, and anything I’ve ever said was for my own fleeting pleasure. It’s over now. I’m done. I’m bored with us.”

“What? No. Something’s wrong. This is not the same Kai I spent the summer falling in love with. Are you Damon in disguise? Pulling some sick prank?”

“I’m not, Y/N. It’s me, being realistic, and telling you I don’t love you, and I never will. It’s time to go home, Y/N, and to your own bed, in your own sheets.”

The tears streaming down your face run your make-up, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “But my sheets smell like you.”

“Then wash them.”

The harshness in his tone was unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. When you finally brought yourself to meet his eyes, there was no light inside them, no humanity. His jaw was tensely set, and for the first time in months, you saw the Kai that everyone feared when he had broken himself free of his eighteen-year punishment. Scared and sorrowful, you backed away from him. He didn’t follow. You backed further and further away until you were stumbling out of the bar. The wicked August heat kissed your neck like he used to - passionately. You grabbed your hair, fumbling it up into a bun to get it off your skin, then searched for your phone to call a ride.

As the white sedan approached your meeting spot, you trained your blurry vision on the door, but Kai never came out. He never shouted your name, hurried down the steps, nor caught you in an apologetic embrace, blaming his temporary ignorance on too much to drink. He never peered through a fingerprint-stained window, watching you from the glass, wondering if it's too late to take back what was said. It was just silent, as car engines roared and drunk couples chattered around you.

When your ride finally came, you cried harder than you ever had in your life. Your driver glanced to the backseat, but didn't know a good time to interrupt, so he didn't. He offered a polite smile as you got out, thanked you for the five-star rating, and made sure you got in your apartment safely before pulling back onto the road.

You barely made it through the door before crashing on the couch. Exhaustion settled in your bones halfway through the drive, and you couldn’t even think about climbing the stairs. The worst headache of your life pounded in your skull. Water was too far of a walk, so you let it throb.

You tried your best not to think about Kai. His words rang in your head on repeat like an old antique bell - loud, heavy, constant. It almost felt like the whole night was a fluke. A nightmare. A spell, perhaps done by his father, or one of your disappointed friends. When you wake up, he’d be there, kissing your fingertips as the smell of coffee fills the air. You let this thought comfort you, and let it soften your heart. Although, deep down, you knew the truth.

He wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want you.

You’ve never known pain like this before.

♫

You can only ignore your friends for so long. Blaming a long to-do list can only give you so many excuses, and when Caroline messages you mid-afternoon on a Friday if you’d meet them at the Scull Bar, you realize you don’t have any more excuses left. So, cautiously, you pull yourself from your bed and drag your feet to your closet. You still haven’t washed your sheets, despite wanting to be rid of his once-comforting smell. It’s more stubbornness than anything, refusing to do the chore. If he thinks throwing a piece of fabric in the wash will rid you of him, he’s a damn fool.

You hadn’t been lying. He owns a part of your heart, and that can’t be simply washed away with some eco-friendly detergent.

Truthfully, you think, ignoring the heaviness in your bones as you enter the Scull Bar, the only way to remove him would be to carve out your heart entirely; to separate it from its lifeline and from all that’s familiar. But, you can’t, so you choose to let it bleed instead, and hope it doesn’t seep through your clothes.

A vague sadness hangs above your heads, but none of your friends know the cause. You told them you were tired before joining them. You must not have gotten a good night’s sleep.

After all, it’s the first time in Mystic Falls where something tragic isn’t happening. Damon and Elena are planning out their lives, Stefan and Caroline are newly together, and Bonnie and Enzo, a quite unexpected pair, seem to be happy. Jo is five months pregnant, and Kai has left her alone. The girls wonder if that’s of his own volition, or if someone or something is distracting him, but you don’t offer any suggestions. When they then ask you about your own dating life, you only shrug. They tease playfully, having no idea about the wreckage your heart is still trying to piece back together. The cause seems hopeless. You don’t even have the energy to confide in them.

The topic finally changes, but only because the one who dropped your glass heart enters. You turn when you catch a bit of his familiar cologne, but remind yourself he’s no longer yours and turn again just as fast. The girls let their gazes linger on him as if daring him to bother them, and for a moment, Kai wonders if you told them. But then, as they shrug and go back to their conversation, he knows you didn’t. Otherwise, they’d be hurling bitter words and sharp tools at him for breaking their best friend’s heart.

And honestly, he wishes they were.

It’s what he deserves, after all.

♫

“I love you,” you had said, only a couple weeks ago.

His heart stopped. His throat went dry.

The words seemed to have been shouted at him, despite the booming bass around them. You weren’t yelling, though, you were simply telling the truth.

A truth he wasn’t ready to hear. A confession he didn’t know how to process.

How could you, a perfect person, love him, someone so tainted and dark?

How could he ever love you the way you deserved?

He did love you, of course. He knew it long before you ever confessed, but it was never something he felt okay to share.

You always made him feel safe. Comfortable. Dare he say it, loved.

But love was something he had never felt before, and to have something means that it can be lost. And to not lose it tragically, he must be the one to take it away.

Hearing the words fall from your lips was both the best and the worst thing he could ever hear. He craves love, he knows he’s admitted it. He craves it more than anything else in the world. But wanting it and having it are two very different things, and now that he has it, he regrets asking for it.

He had to hurt you then, before your soul could be completely shattered later. He had to stop it. Right then. Before he let you in too much and you got too attached.

So, he lied.

He broke his own heart with every word, but it was nothing compared to the damage he knew it was doing to your own. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, hold you tightly, and say it was all just a spell - an outside force trying to drive you apart - but he couldn’t. His fear of hurting you triumphed over his love for you. His mouth spoke before his mind could process the words he professed. He became unrecognizable to himself by the time he delivered his final blow. Your tears stained your perfect face and your posture was defeated, but he was no longer the one that could offer any solace. He was now the one that ruined you, and there was no coming back from what he had done.

How terrifying it is, that three little words can make or break you.

How terrifying it was, to wake up the next morning and realize the damage caused. To have to come to terms with the fact that he had broken the only good thing in his life. To imagine the love of his life sitting on the couch, stirring coffee, with a head full of questions neither will ever be able to answer.

“I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it…”

“I love you,” ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #tvd fanfiction #kai parker oneshot #kai parker angst #requested #taylor swift cruel summer #kind of a songfic but not really?#kai parker fics #unhappy ending

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zahri-melitor · 2 months ago

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So I've read the opening story of Tim Drake: Robin.

The opening issue is solid, highlighting a lot of Meghan Fitzmartin's skills as a writer. She picked up threads neatly from her earlier stories, showed her hand to the audience, and did do a fair amount of subtle character work. If I'd picked it up with no background knowledge of the fandom conversation about the title, I'd have been very excited for where it was going.

I liked the links back to how part of what prompted Tim to move out was Bruce being fussy over Tim having been shot in the throat in Batman #125. That felt realistic and a nice little link between titles.

As far as a story goes: I didn't mind it. Parts of it were very obvious, especially when you clued into the themes - if I'd actually been reading it as it came out and had a month between issues for things to soak in, I probably would have been tapping my toes over the reveal of who Moriarty was disguised as.

I would like to specifically dunk on both Meghan Fitzmartin and Moriarty for the detective novel writer selections, because...hmm. Kinda misogynistic there. Fitzmartin uses 6 writers for this, and 6 specific stories/franchises:-

Edgar Allen Poe – Murders in the Rue Morgue

Mark Twain – The Stolen White Elephant

Arthur Conan Doyle – Sherlock Holmes

Raymond Chandler - Goldfish

James Gelsey – Scooby Doo

Wilkie Collins – The Moonstone

What do you notice about this list, that I immediately noticed? They're all men. Who is an immediate name that comes to mind, who even had public domain stories as of 2022, who probably should be on a list like that and who also has incredible influence over the direction of the genre? Oh, I don't know, maybe Agatha Christie? (Also Dorothy L. Sayers is also right there and available, but skipping Christie?)

And once she'd built up this "it's all the detective stories" premise, Fitzmartin then went for a book code (cool!) from non-existent books (not cool). If you've just spent all this time glorying in how this is all related to Specific Classic Detective Stories, why not...use a real book code and refer to their actual stories? You've already done it for the plots! Commit to the bit!

Also I spent a good chunk of issue #4 staring at the page going "Carol Donovan? You mean Deb Donovan's judge daughter who recently appeared in Mariko Tamaki's 'Tec run? Tim, how are you missing something this straightforward? Also she's dead?" and then it never came to anything. Maybe do a quick check if anyone else has been using the name you just invented for the story.

"I even tried making a new costume for myself. It doesn't fit." - I did find it interesting that Fitzmartin was once again playing with the "is it time to move on" themes for Tim that were popping up around here in various conversations. Especially given she had Tim and Dick relitigate their conversation from Urban Legends #10 and similar themes in DC:YJ. It does suggest to me that she was working her way around to getting Tim into a new identity, but cancellation has once again left that in the 'not happening' basket.

In terms of the art: Riley Rossmo was the wrong pick for the title, but I do see the thought process that led into him getting the nod for the opening story, given the whole claymation villain set. It was very 2D animation style. I don't mind Rossmo (and interestingly he's developing a whole line up of detective stories he's done art for, given he's also had a Martian Manhunter book and got Wesley Dodds, he did one of the Batman/The Shadow crossovers...) but his highly malleable art style loses a lot of background detail or makes what is there harder to parse.

I did very much appreciate the way Rossmo drew Tim's detective work, though. I liked the technique for highlighting details and clues, and it actually very much reminded me of how some computer games present clues (including how it's done in Gotham Knights, in fact).

I know everyone has said this, but Bernard needs to develop a personality AND to commit to whether or not he knows Tim is Robin. Because sort of hinting that he knows, while Tim worries about hiding things from him, but not actually confirming either way is only really acceptable if you actually do build up to a big reveal moment where the whole drama has been paid off.

I did appreciate that MegFitz had clearly taken feedback and returned one of Bernard's two pre-existing personality traits (conspiracy theorist who thinks the Bats are urban legend cryptids), because one of the weaknesses of using Bernard, a side character with 6 preboot appearances, is that at lot of his existing personality was sketched in. He was a conspiracy theorist, and he desperately wanted to be popular but wasn't, so he presented himself as having a Cool Guy's Personality (see: 'your step-mom is hot'). Now, Meghan Fitzmartin wants us to read into that second trait as a facade that Bernard was putting up to deal with the fact he was gay and hiding it, probably even from himself, at the time. Which, fine, it's a perfectly reasonable reading of Bernard (and to her credit, MegFitz has Bernard spell it out a little on page in TD:R), but the problem is...you've just lost one of the two identifiable traits of 'Bernard' and it hasn't been replaced with anything else. And while 2004 in comics was still trying to hold onto the Urban Legends reading for the Bats to an extent (though it was failing), 2022 comics has so long since abandoned it that Bernard having kooky theories about Batman's connection to Mothman or whatever is very...why?

And because both of these pre-existing personality traits are under strain from the context, it really is sort of necessary to give Bernard something else about him for people to latch onto for his personality. And it doesn't really seem to be there yet (as of #6). It's the same complaint that people have about Jon/Jay and a whole host of other partners for recently out superheros: they're generically pleasant, supportive and bland, with about the depth of a mirror. Give me some of the toxic drama the 30 year old lesbians are allowed. Where is my breakup over custody fights with an ex and one of the two getting seduced by a vampire.

#z canon read throughs #tim drake: robin

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drchucktingle · 1 year ago

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Howdy Dr Chuck! It's kinda late but I keep wondering what was up with that deer on the Camp Damascus archery range? I think Rose noticed something was stuck to it or dragging something but I don't think I ever found what was going on and I wondered if you might have an answer you're willing to share? Ps. I LOVED the book and got Bury Your Gays pre ordered!

CAMP DAMASCUS SPOILERS TO FOLLOW: this is a funny one because when i wrote this part i thought it was obvious but i get asked ALL THE TIME about this (maybe most common question about camp damascus besides what is saul listening to in his big scene). so you are NOT ALONE in wondering.

really goes to show how delicate balance is as author when you are wondering HOW MUCH TO SAY in the text. i think my balance was WAY OFF and you are correct in wondering, or maybe its good to keep as a little mystery i do not know

anyway here is answer: as with NEWS ARTICLE about someone finding a worm in the woods at the beginning of book, the 'ligeian worms' are to blame. during breeding program of worms we know that SOME still produce a natural lifecycle while others have had aging bred out of them. those flies escape into the woods from the lab and then grow into ligeian worms that kinda just make this dang timeline their home.

so the deer was confused from its memory loss and the 'deflated football' hanging from its leg was a ligeian worm that had not retracted its dang proboscis. there are a few later on that do this with dr smith it is not common but it happens.

ALSO in case you were wondering they are called ligeian worms because they are a reference to THE CONQUEROR WORM by edgar allen poe but more specifically the story where this poem appears called LIGEIA about a woman with the same name. this story has heavy themes of transformation and most importantly MEMORY LOSS

also since it is left up to the reader to question wether or not the worms and the demons are the same species, i will say THEY ARE NOT.

they are two different natural species from the same other timeline, which is a place we would call hell

THANK YOU FOR ASKING this is great question. LOVE IS REAL

#ligeia #edgar allen poe #chuck tingle #queer horror #tingleverse #camp damascus

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ghosts-to-reid · 4 months ago

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Neo Gothic: The Bibliography

These are meanings/refernces made in Neo Gothic, for those who may not have delved into the genre asmuch as they'd like...

This post is in reference to my series 'Neo Gothic' and as such some definitions are written towards to context of the story, this isn't a fool proof guide to the gothic, only a guide for my readers.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

References are in order of their mention, starting with part 1. Some are my definitions, other are from the internet.

The Gothic: A literary genre that combines Romance and Horror, Characterized by horror, Mystery, and gloom. Solidified as a genre by Horace Walpole, author of The Castle of Otranto.

Dracula: 1897 Cult Gothic Novel about vampire Dracula, who haunts a group from London, trying to turn or kill them.

Lucy Westenra: Mina Harker's best friend in Dracula, She is fed on, then turned, and eventually killed by the group. She was considered promiscuous due to her many suitors. She is given blood transfusions, however we now know the science behind these transfusions are outdated. She is finally killed in her vampiric form by beheading and a stake through the heart.

Carmilla: 1872 Predesscor of Dracula, it follows an isolated young woman who befriends a woman who turns out to be the vampire who has been drinking from her breast for years...

Carmilla (Character): An ancient vampire, often interpretated as a lesbian. In the novel, her death is achived by finding her resting place (her tomb), beheading her, and driving a stake through her heart.

Ann Radcliffe: Gothic author, known as 'The Enchantress', she published many acclaimed gothic novels in her time, including The Mysteries of Udolpho, she also wrote many essays that were published after her dath that have become acclaimed for their insight.

Rosemary's Baby: 1968 horror film directed by Roman Polanski, following a woman who is being victimised by a satanic cult.

The Exorcist: 1973 film directed by William Friedkin, following a girl who is possesed by an ancient demon.

Creed (Barbra): Professor of Cinema Studies, wrote collection of essays named "Monsterous-Feminine: Film, Feminism, Psychoanlysis"

Abjection: subjective horror, or someone's reaction to physically or emotionally disturbing subject matter

The Yellow Wallpaper: 1892 Novella by Charlotte Perkins Gillman, follows the descent into maddness of a victorian woman perscribed a "rest cure"

Dracula (character death): He is beheaded and stabbed through the heart, afterwards turning to dust.

The Castle of Otranto: 1764 novella by Horace Walpole, tricks reader into beleiving it is a true story of an ancient catholic family in italy, who are victim to spiritual haunting due to their transgressions.

Castle of Otranto Death: At the start of the novel, Manfred's (The villian) son is about to marry the virtuous Isabella, however in a tragic turn of events, he is crushed to death by a giant suit of armour, the helmet becoming stuck.

Frankenstein: 1818 Novella by Mary Shelley, follows Victor Frankenstein in his abjection after playing god, and bringing life to mixture of corpses.

Annabelle Lee (poem): explores the theme of the death of a beautiful woman. The narrator, who fell in love with Annabel Lee when they were young, has a love for her so strong that even angels are envious

Raven: Inspired by the poem, 'The Raven' by Edgar Allen Poe

Terror: Psychological fear, feeling like you're being watched/Thinking you heard noise.

Horror: The physcial reaction to fear, a scream, the unsettling shake when you're scared.

Sanguinary/Sanguination: involving or causing much bloodshed.

Sanguinary Rosebud: Reference to Angela Carter's short story "Lady in The House of Love"

Sublime: The state of all striking awe of the natural world.

Gothic Heroine: The gothic heroine is often characterised by her lack of agency or control in her situation. Often in a vulnerable position, she is often targeted by the immoral.

Naturalist: naturalism, in literature and the visual arts, late 19th- and early 20th-century movement that was inspired by adaptation of the principles and methods of natural science, especially the Darwinian view of nature, to literature and art.

Byron: Lord Byron was a romantic poet in the 19th century, well known for his sexual escapades.

Dr Bell: Bell was the last name used in the Pseudonmys that that Bronte sisters shared when publishing.

Dr. Purcell: one of sheridan Le Fanu's pseudonmys

Quarles: One of Edgar Allen Poe's pseudonmys

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds prompts #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine

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the-nosy-neighbor · 3 months ago

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Poe

So, still digesting this information.

Also, I just realized that the wiki has links to Clown’s past comments about each character, so I have been enjoying reading those. I did a deep dive a while back, but didn’t see some of the things added.

The main thing I see here, if people aren’t familiar with the works of Edward Allen Poe, is the fact that two of his stories are referenced in the book. I assume most people are going to know, as his stuff is pretty popular and references abound. Sally has determined that they are going to do her version of “The Tell-tale Heart.” I wish we got to hear more about what her version was like, but we do get a small idea. The second references is “The Cask of Amontillado.” I’m going to do a super basic description of each story—I have read these in the past, but I’m using general info from Wikipedia as a source.

In “The Telltale Heart” (which I saw a feminist play version of recently), the story follows an unnamed person who lives with an old man and becomes obsessed with the idea that his “milky” eye (probably cataracts) is watching him at all times. He decides that he is going to have to kill him to get rid of this evil eye. He goes in at night with a shuttered lantern to observe the old man while he sleeps. For seven days, he doesn’t see the eye. On the eighth, the old man wakes up (I think the main character makes a noise) and then when the shaft of light lands on his unusual eye, decides that this is the sign he needs to go ahead and kill him.

Check out this awesome art from Wikipedia, an illustration by Harry Clark in 1923

He hears the old man’s heartbeat at this point. The old man cries out once and then dies. So he kills him, dismembers him, and buries him under the floorboards of the old man’s room. But someone heard the scream, so the police come. He has taken care of everything suspicious, so he doesn’t think that they are going to find anything, but he keeps hearing the heartbeat. He brings chairs to the old man’s room, and they sit there. The heartbeat keeps getting louder and louder, but the cops don’t seem to hear it. Eventually, the sound of the heartbeat breaks him, and he confesses to the crime. He tells them where the body is hidden.

The story was published in January of 1843 in a magazine. Interesting tidbit, it was published with a poem claimed by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, called “A Psalm of Life” but when Poe’s story was republished, he had them drop the poem, because he thought it could be plagiarized. It was first published anonymously, and some felt that if it was Wadsworth’s, it could be a translation of Goethe. The poem is about seizing the day, doing great things.

Now, the second piece, “The Cask of Amontillado” is also a story about premeditated murder. In this case, it follows an Italian noble who has fallen on hard times, who hates a man he blames for his bad fortune. The hated man is called “Fortunato,” and the murderer is called “Montresor” which is a family name. So, it’s Carnival (Carnevale), which has parades, costumes, masks, games, pranks, theatre performances among other celebrations. Mardi Gras is descended from this festival. Montresor finds Fortunato wandering around drunk (and it is insinuated that while he is called a connoisseur he could be a garden variety alcoholic). Having planned for revenge against the guy, he asks him to come to his house and check out this rare wine he bought, known for being counterfeit most of the time. Given that Fortunato has a taste for wines, he is going to give his opinion. Monstresor thinks with carnival happening around them, and both of them in carnival garb and masks, no one will notice them going to his house.

He takes the guy down to his basement, giving him some wine on the way down to keep him drunk, and instead of wine, there is a chain on the wall with a lock on the other side. Montresor locks him in, and starts to build a wall around him. Fortunato tries to take it as a joke, but it becomes apparent that Montresor is going to leave him there. Fortunato begs for them to leave and drink the wine together, while his murderer agrees with everything he says, still building the wall. With one brick left, Montresor looks at him, and calls his name twice:

I heard no answer. “Fortunato!” I cried. “Fortunato.” I heard only a soft, low sound, a half-cry of fear. My heart grew sick; it must have been the cold. I hurried to force the last stone into its position. And I put the old bones again in a pile against the way. For half a century now no human hand has touched them. May he rest in peace!

Also notable in this story is the imagery of Montresor’s family crest, which shows a foot crushing a snake, while the snake has its fangs in the heel of the foot. I read a discussion on the somewhat circular nature of this image, because the viewer can’t tell who the aggressor is there. Did the snake bite first, or did the heel crush first? “Montresor” means “my treasure;” “Fortunato” means “lucky, fortunate, blessed, or happy.” Fortunato is also the name of many Christian saints.

What does this mean for Poppy? And Sally? In our story, Sally is distraught that she suggested that Poppy act in the play, having forgotten (somehow) that Poppy is scared of everything, until everyone reminds her that Poppy is scared of everything. Barnaby says “brick by brick,” which gives Barnaby the idea to brick Poppy into her barn. Truly bizarre. So all the neighbors (minus Home) set to work bricking up her window with school glue and bricks. Interestingly, all the neighbors appear to be there, but you don’t see the hands of Frank or Sally, just trowels.

You see a shot of the interior of the barn with just a small part remaining open, with Sally’s face in the hole. Then a line says “Never had a home look so safe and cozy!” (sic, not sure about that, typo?) Agree to disagree, that sounds terrifying.

Poppy being out of the play altogether means that Home is in the play. We see the other neighbors prepping, so I assume that the page where they are all in windows shows what each one is doing: Wally is painting (scenery?), Frank is brushing Julie’s hair, Howdy is putting chairs out (?), Barnaby is eating a hot dog, home is staring directly at us, and Eddie is studying lines. Sally, in the center is being bummed that Poppy isn’t participating. Given that Home is in the background of the play itself, I am going to assume that Julie is the main character, Eddie is Cop 1 and Home is Cop 2. The play ends with the confession scene, but Julie confesses burying her alarm clock in a garden, not a murder. Home has three black dots on the front, but I can’t tell if that is some kind of decoration for the play, or if it is more of the black stuff that is on everything.

After the play, we are treated to silhouettes of the audience and cast, but we don’t have the audio of the lines there, instead, we are hearing Poppy’s panic. But it does have the line, “Most important of all, not a single peep was heard out of Poppy.” Then there is a page of a feather on a brick page (that reminds me of the old missing art that isn’t canon.

The book ends with an image of the bricked over window. While the audio tells us she is fine, the images themselves are suspect. More to come later.

#welcome home #welcome home theories #welcome home arg #wally darling #welcome home project

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