#he's mourned widow

[mxtxfanatic]

People will claim that Shen Qingqiu is an unreliable narrator which (ignoring the fact that the story is in 3rd POV) is true, but they make the claim in reference to his thoughts and feelings about Luo Binghe (false) when they should be making it about how he views himself. Cause why is this man so casual about the fact that he became a leading instructor at a prestigious school he just happened to waltz into because he was bored? Why did it take an extra to learn that he actually spent most of Luo Binghe’s time in the abyss doing missions off the peak to run from his grief? Why did we have to find out that, due to their bullying of Luo Binghe, he was every Bai Zhan Peak disciple’s worst nightmare from Shang Qinghua???

[sadcoms]

until i recently read posts on here about how there is an inherent queerness to the doctor and rose's relationship in how it's unspoken and filled with yearning that i'd never really considered that element, despite knowing for ages that RTD is gay but. man. it's just reframed a lot of the series for me, like the idea that you have this lonely man who's just watched his people die and is self-destructive and misanthropic and traumatised and he can love again and he wants to but it has so many risks.

but especially S3 and how it adds even more weight to the doctor's grieving widower status. how he tells martha that he and rose were together but martha refers to rose as a friend to tallulah; the fact that he can only say they were together once she is gone; how the only other person that both can feel how he feels but also understands the depth of his feelings is jack, a queer man himself. and I've been thinking to myself lately oh, it's ok, the doctor and rose probably accidentally got married on at least one planet or something but also the point is that there was no official title that could convey to people the extent that they meant to each other, that the doctor can really only tell donna that rose was his friend even though it is so wholly inadequate and she comes to see that by the end of the episode (and martha too of course). how people who saw the doctor and rose together assumed they were a couple, like on krop tor, but once there's no more physical evidence of the relationship it becomes more vague (and simultaneously clearer).

anyway something about how christopher eccleston said he based his portrayal of nine on RTD and something about RTD saying that his husband is "in every good man i write now" and how the doctor and ruby seeing each other in the club mimics his first meeting with his husband aka the one moment he would use a time machine to go back to hmmm

[dummyminded]

ITS OKAY SWEETIE YOU DON'T HAVE TO SHOVE THOSE FEELINGS AWAY ESPECIALLY NOT FOR A STUPID PSA 😭

[mt07131]

Lucanis wandering the lighthouse aimlessly late at night (or whatever passes for night in the fade) while rook is trapped. Lucanis lingering in rook’s chambers hoping against hope that they’ll be there (they’re not there. They’re gone). Lucanis not being able to even step in rook’s chambers some days because they’ll be cold and empty (rook is warm and rook is gone). Is this anything.

[professorjirt]

*grinds my teeth together and pretends to be normal about people reducing Bilbo taking Frodo in to simply a Bagginshield thing with zero regard to Frodo as a character save how he can be compared to Thorin or Bilbo and zero regard for the deeper reasons why Bilbo might have been compelled to take in a young hobbit at that stage in his life*

[zer0expektation]

◇

lone funeral

[ornstein]

*taps mic* Okay, going to be really silly for a moment here with unsolicited half-jokingly, half-honest rambling. Unless forgetting someone, not many Ghosttsu characters have this type of receding hairline except Kazumasa Sakai and Ryuzo, side antagonists both born of different backgrounds but united in their means by a similar cause: grief.

Kazumasa was widowed after the premature loss of his wife Chiyoko, this much is clear. As a consequence, he went down a grievous path for the rest of his life, neglecting his son's emotional needs and dedicating his final days to bloodshed in order to gain control over a piece of land.

Kazumasa pic from Firescorpio on twitter.

The thing is, Kazu's widow's peak is less prominent than Ryuzo's. So how does the myth affect Ryuzo in the greater scale? At first glance the answer is simple. He is mourning the many straw hats who died. As he recalls, he lost a great number of friends and is trying to make it up by being in charge and caring for the remaining ones. He works completely on his own, devoted to his job and brooding in a deep sense of duty, begrudgingly accepting Jin's help but hopeful it'll at least ensure that he and his men won't go another day without food. Now, I have my personal theories (or headcanons) about what truly went down in Komoda beach that made Ryuzo so sensitive towards his success with keeping his men safe and Jin's unwanted good-willed intrusion, but I'll leave that out of this post for now.

Thing is, that may not be the sole reason for Ryuzo's mourning, at least not in a straightforward in-the-face fashion, but still quite prevalent if we take into consideration his inconsistent behaviour during act 2.

Enter Jin dying at Komoda beach and being reborn as the Ghost, who in Shimura's (and more latently in Ryuzo's) eyes is nothing but a husk of the perfect son/brother-in-arms he was revered to be. During his childhood, Ryuzo was transparently disdainful about Shimura's influence over his friend, but despite so, he idolized the traditions and principles of the Samurai culture and admired Jin's expertise and a part of him likely aspired to grow up into a Samurai himself so he could become his equal. But if the Tournament wasn't enough for Ryuzo to have one sided beef with Jin for over two years and further stain their relationship, with the death of Jin Sakai, the Samurai, and the birth of the Ghost, Ryuzo rewinds his brain and clutches on to the deluded ideology that Jin could have been better off under the tutelage of a hateful and narrow-minded puppet like Shimura, showing disappointment at Jin for breaking the Samurai code, and not as the Ghost, an unrestrained moral strength bringing hope and kindness to the helpless townspeople when nobody else would, someone him and the straw hats could have allied to if Ryuzo and Jin didn't have such clown-to-clown communication skills and the ronin had made plans on behalf of Lady Sanjo's protection to ensure their survival while aiding Jin on taking back Castle Kaneda (there must've been close contacts to Umugi Cove among the straw hats unless both sides had been holding a grudge, which would leave Umugi Cove out of the question, or unless those ronin who could reach Toyotama were dead 🤔).

Instead, Ryuzo becomes a walking contradiction for the sake of subterfuging his inexcusable acts, opting to villanize Jin for his sacrifices as such a radical change of character would leave him confused and deeply hurt and betrayed, for which half of act 1/act 2 he spends projecting his insecurities and flaws and even his ambitions onto Jin, possibly to justify what was done was inevitable, and even to not think of himself as an enemy or (more questioningly) a bad person. Altogether, he mourns a Jin from the past that, deep down in his gut, knows never existed, but clings to during his most distressing moments as a self-defense mechanism -it is possible the human brain may involuntarily regress when faced with harsh realities and catastrophic events, and though this is not quite a literal "regression", it could still manifest otherwise.

My point is, he really is a widowed maiden grieving a literal ghost, in this essay I will-

[themalhambird]

The world is not real: Charlotte cannot touch it. This -news-, this tragedy  is not real either, and it cannot touch her. There’s too much cotton in her ears, there’s an endless, keening chime slowly boring through her skull- in at one temple, out at the other- a continuous line, all the way through…

She is sitting on the sofa. There’s a cup and saucer cradled in her hands. She doesn’t remember picking it up, but the steam is ghosting over her face. It’s fresh. (Her husband is dead). Polly must have given it to her. (Her husband died at his own hand.) They have a visitor, she ought to be showing more hospitality. She wonders if there’s any of that fruitcake left. (Alfred confessed to murder. Alfred confessed to murder,  and then Alfred murdered himself)

“Mama?”

Polly’s voice, soft and tentative as it is, makes her jump. Tea sloshes, spills over, pools in the delicate saucer. She shakes herself and focuses her gaze on Sir Julian. “That’s not,” she tries, but the sound barely forms. Charlotte pauses, swallows, tries again. “That’s not right,” she says, unsure if she’s really addressing Sir Julian Harker or merely facing his direction whilst trying to bargain with a Higher Power. “That’s not- none of this is right, Alfred wouldn’t- he wouldn’t do any of it, any of this…” But he has. He has, he has, he has, and when he comes home she’s going to skin him alive. “What will we do?” she asks, as the first beginnings of fear worm their way through the numbness of shock. “The disgrace of it-”

“Mama!” Polly cries, indignant. “At this moment, of all moments, your thoughts cannot be of what other people will think- what does that matter, what do any of them matter!”

It matters because they have never been reckless with money, but savings will not last forever and Charlotte doesn’t know if the widows of Police Inspectors who confess to capital offences and then take their own lives qualify for any sort of pension. It matters because the disapprobation of society in any circumstances can be death by a thousand cuts, whereas the widow who has the sympathies of her community has a better chance at maintaining a somewhat genteel situation. It matters because the infamy of the father will cast a shadow over the life and the character of the daughter- the best chance for Polly, now, is marriage, but what respectable, decent man would want a father- in- law six feet deep in unconsecrated ground?

“Mrs Hillinghead,” Sir Julian says solemnly, “I wish to assure you that you and your daughter will have the fullness of my protection. The events of the last twenty four hours- they will not reflect on you, nor on your daughter. You have my word.”

She acknowledges his words without really understanding- it will not be until much later, lying in a too-empty bed and staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep- that Charlotte will consider that Harker told Polly about Alfred’s death before he told her, that he stood as close to Polly’s chair as proprietary allows for, that he has seemed- these past few weeks- to admire Polly: her beauty, her music. And perhaps nothing will come of it but friendship- , but the friendship of a man that powerful is not an asset to be scorned. And if it turns into anything more…

They were nineteen, she and Alfred, when they married- they had been friends their whole lives before that. And she had known about him:  years before they had married, she had known that  his desires steered his eyes not towards the ranks of giggling, frivolous girls who batted their eyelashes at his well built figure and handsome face, but to other members of his own sex. And she had ignored it, because she knew him: he was too good a man to act on those desires. And he was kind, and gentle, and they were friends, and a husband who would be perfectly happy to conduct a marriage with minimal activity in the matrimonial bed suited Charlotte. She had courted him as much as he had courted her, really, although whether he ever realised that…

And he’s dead. Her best friend of nearly forty years. The murder confession, she has already written off- she neither knows nor cares about the details. If it was a false confession, then he confessed to try and protect someone- probably that journalist, given the confession it prompted to her, and she is furious at him. She is furious at him for not protecting his wife and child, and for not letting the journalist face whatever justice he merited- unless, of course, the man threatened to reveal Alfred’s inclinations, and take the Inspector who had detected his crimes down along with him. That seems, to Charlotte, the most likely explanation. And if the confession is- was- true, then Alfred must have had good reason for taking another man’s life: she has seen him carry spiders in the palm of his hand to release them outside, rather than squash them underfoot; she has listened to him vent his frustrations about officers being too heavy handed with their arrests at more dinners than she can remember. Taking another human life…it must have broken something in his mind, which would explain being in such a state that he would…. It does not matter. Alfred is dead, either way- she is a widow, either way. And she will encourage Julian Harker’s friendship, because if Polly can catch him she will have a comfortable home, and a husband who seems a good hearted and generous man. And she, Charlotte, will grieve Alfred Hillinghead. But if his death unravels into the scandal she fears, then she will take care to grieve him quietly. She will survive this. She has to. She has to survive this so that there’s someone who remembers that Alfred Hillinghead played cricket as a boy and took two sugars in his tea.

[mugloversonly]

Mama’s Song

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: SING WC:995 Rating: G CW: Grief Summary: Lily escapes the babysitter and asks Eddie to sing a song. Inspired by that video of Pink’s daughter running up stage to talk to her and this (NFWMB by Hozier) AO3

The day before New Year’s Eve, Corroded Coffin had a small concert. Eddie invited the party; Lily and Bear’s kid, Tyler, would be with the crew babysitter and Abby was free to join. With childcare taken care of, Steve didn’t see a reason to skip out. He stood on the sideline with the rest of the group and got to watch Eddie in his element.

The last time he saw the band play, was a month or so before the break up. Steve couldn’t believe he missed out on this! They were great before, but now? They were amazing. Eddie worked the crowd with his guitar and gyrating hips, while Jeff sang into the mic.

It was in a song break; Jeff was taking a second to drink some water while Eddie talked. Thanked the audience, shouted out the manager and the venue and...the audience collectively awed.

Steve moved to see, Lilith hugging her dad’s shoulders and hiding her face.

“Lilith, my little demon what are you doing?” Eddie asked. She seemed to whisper something before Eddie nudged her to speak louder.

“Play mama’s song?” She asked, the mic barely picked it up. Eddie looked at her softly for a moment before he turned to the rest of the band. Steve smiled when they all nodded their approval for the set change.

“Sorry for the change folks, but my daughter wants me to sing the song I wrote for her mom. And I can’t say no to her.” The band moved off stage, except Bear who stood behind a hidden keyboard, a stagehand brought out with an acoustic guitar. It seemed as if they anticipated this.

“This next song, will be sung my me. Sorry.” Eddie said with a laugh that the crowd echoed. “It’s called NFWMB.”

When I first saw you The end was soon To Bethlehem it slouched And then it must've caught a good look at you

The soft guitar rang through the venue, Eddie’s words raw. This must have been the song Eddie wrote for Lyla when she passed away. Steve’s heart clenched as he watched him lose himself.

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

Eddie sang to his daughter on her stool, but it was obvious the song was about someone else. Eddie’s fierce loyalty and protectiveness for Lyla was clear in his words.

If I was born as a blackthorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you Held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies

Steve felt a shiver go down his spine. Lyla was so lucky to have Eddie, and it’s obvious through the lyrics that Eddie felt like the lucky one. The soft, slow, song touched Steve in a way he never thought it would. Eddie didn’t write this type of music, Steve was sure. But he realized then, there was so much about Eddie that changed in the last ten years that he missed out on. Steve would give anything to get those years back.

“Nothing fucks with my baby.” Eddie sang, eyes staring into his, boring holes in his own. What wouldn’t Steve do to be his baby again.

The song ended, Lilith and Eddie were both teary eyed. “Come here, sweet pea.” Eddie whispered as he hugged the girl. The audience awed as if they were directed to. “Thank you guys. Really. Ever since her mom died, it’s been the only song she wants to hear.” Eddie held her tight to his chest as she cried.

“I miss mama, daddy.” She whispered, but the mic caught it. Eddie looked up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly. Bear stepped behind him and whispered something in his ear that the mic didn’t catch. Eddie nodded and carried Lilith off stage, the opposite side of where Steve was.

Jeff, Gareth, and a guy Steve didn’t recognize stepped onto the stage, holding an electric guitar.

“Okay, as I’m sure all of you can understand, Eddie had to go backstage, please welcome Kevin Brown to the stage. He’s going to help us finish up the show!” Jeff said as they got into position.

Just then the babysitter ran up next to him. “Oh, I am so getting fired.” He said. Steve patted him on the shoulder, before he went to find Eddie. He found him in the green room, hunched over with Lilith in his lap.

“Knock, knock.” He said. Eddie looked up at him for a moment before he turned away.

“Not right now, okay Steve?” Eddie begged. Steve cursed himself; Steve hasn’t been the best of friends since the wedding. But no more.

“I just want to help, Eds. That’s all.” He whispered. Eddie hesitated for a moment longer before he nodded slightly. “Thank you.” Steve stepped into the room and sat next to the two. He slipped his arms around them and held tight. Eddie tensed for a minute, before he relaxed into his hold, turned his head into his chest, and let himself be held.

“Will mama ever come back?” Lily whispered.

“No, baby. I’m sorry.” Eddie’s eyes closed tighter.

“Was I bad?” She cried harder. Steve felt himself tear up. He’s never been so happy he got divorced instead of this.

“No honey.” Eddie pulled back a bit to look at the girl. “It was an accident, no one did anything wrong. I promise.”

Steve couldn’t say anything, and even if he could, he doesn’t know what he’d say. He just held on tighter and made a silent promise to Lyla he’d protect her family for as long as he was able. Like she could hear him, he felt a pressure on the opposite side of him, wrapping around the small family in his arms. Eddie gasped softly, like he felt it too. Lily’s tears began to dry and her breathing evened out.

“Mama.” She whispered as she fell asleep with a small smile on her face.

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[lapinparka]

Neku: *gets shot by Coco*

Joshua:

[ge]

its truly crazy to me that tangchung had all the right fixings of being an actual serious romantically involved couple that ended in a realistically handled tragedy but biga is a grown ass married man with a child so of course theyre only close boy best friends

[americankimchi]

Pillars of Eternity holds a special place in my heart among all the crpgs out there because its the one series I accidentally stumbled into having my character have THE most thematic ties to the world when I chose to be a Priest of Eothas. Really my only complaint about the series is that i can't romance Edér in PoE2

JKGHFJKD i thought about playing a cleric of eothas but ultimately went chanter instead bc being able to summon on cooldown was too good to pass up

and the fact that you can't romance eder is genuinely one of THEE most heartbreaking things abt poe like HELLOOOOO...... it's fine tho that's what imagination is for 👍

[wildsaltair]

do you ever think about how Maximus lives and dies as a man of the earth. haha me neither. like his whole life revolves around the farm where his beloved family lives, which is why he dreams of golden fields and anchors himself before battles by handling the soil. when he finds his family dead, he lays down in the dirt beside him. when he's on the wagon to Zucchabar, all that brings him from the brink of death is his hand brushing the soil. in the colosseum, his last connection to his family is the dust of the arena floor that he handles before fights, and it's only when his blood mingles with that soil once more than he can be at peace. but no i dont ever think about it though.

[yoosung-ah]

1. nothing could be more suspicious than that hair of yours. I swear this woman's hair gets bigger every time I see her. is that all real, or extensions? if it's real, then drop that haircare routine sis

2. if you choose the first one, Rika accuses you of being a pervert. she's not entirely wrong, but also, why did Cheritz even give us that option to begin with? this is not how I wanted to see him on his knees. bad vibes

3. top 10 saddest screenshots ever taken. literally just put me out of my misery

4. to draw this interaction this way was such a choice. I love how it looks both homoerotic and like a weeb's rendition of a biblical painting using their favourite characters from different franchises

5. first, I'm a fan of how this looks like the cover of one of those cheesy romance novels that grandmas read, and second, literally impossible. cruel of him and the writers to even suggest such a thing. I'm too selfish and don't have the coping skills or neurological genetics to do what you're asking of me

6. the absolute purity that radiates from this is unmatched. I almost don't want to be with him because he's too good for anyone. also babe did you break into V's studio to take this photo with the professional backdrop and everything? because I support that kind of behaviour

7. let's all together beat him up, then. if, like discussed in your AE, "there's no right or wrong," then violence should be acceptable. him and his security guard can't take us all on, and aren't you all about self-sacrifice? and protecting the twins? where's that attitude now?? you're already going to jail anyway. surely you have some repressed anger that you can make use of. Rika and I have enough crazy between us to equate to 3 men in battle too, like let's go

8. same energy as "now I feel weird" or "my head hurts" from days 8 and 9... sir, is this your tsundere way of saying you have feelings for me? I'm flattered, but as you can see, I already have a bf

9. we get called a goddess by both Chois. Cheritz saw the feedback from AS and Yoosung's route and made good use of it

10. "but not me" same. let me know if you need my help in any way. like how V "helped" Rika after her "skirmish" with your mom

... this feels oddly meta. as if Cheritz was like "we know you sickos have fantasized about ending up with both of them, so here you go" and you get to be with just Saeran in the alternative end. here it feels like Saeran's your husband, but Saeyoung's your boyfriend. like why they both holding bouquets, with us in the middle? I thought Saeyoung was looking at his brother's happiness, but he's actually looking at us

in addition to Chairman Han, I am petitioning Cheritz to also give us a Driver Kim and Prime Minister route. the former has a heart of gold but his voice and cadence makes me think he may have k!lled someone in the past, and I know that the latter has, but red flags never stopped us before

[pontah]

just finished dark rise and made a mini character web....this isnt even half of the insanity

[spottedgardeneelstan]

nobody likes being alone!

continuation of this