Ok but Garden!Essek though. Boy's literally giving love, care and nurture back into the earth LITERALLY BENEATH HIS FEET.
*so i've been working in my aunt's garden recently and headcanoning my wee socks off... here's something i made earlier*
This particular aspect of Essek's arc for me is so striking. Such a small element of his overall growth, but so raw. His taking an interest in the song of nature and the nurturing of growth is no coincidence, I feel.
I often associate gardening with solitude (but in a completely different sense to the crippling loneliness that Essek displayed in early campaign.) There is both situational content and selflessness to be found in the garden- a conscious act of care and appreciation for the world around. A connection from the soul to the soil, and an ultimate comfort in your own boots. The feeling of soft ground beneath your feet.
Essek was an aristocrat, a government official, and a man of pristine composure- boastful of a superiority and untouchable opulence. Before he started his journey with the Nein there was a clear message- I am above, you are below. l i t e r a l l y
He was once somebody who would not even grace the cold stone floor with his footfalls (let alone loose soil)- all out of a manifestation of his own pride. Now, he buries his toes into damp earth and wipes the sweat from his brow as he admires the subtle magic of a carefully cultivated row of cyclamens. Every year he watches with a growing pride- a new kind of pride- as fantastic flowers blossom and burst into colour, making a shining example of his own rebirth. He marvels in the slowness of it all- learns to wait, and relish in the long term results.
Essek still casts with the same precision and technical prowess as ever; his fingers still dextrous and affixed to detail, but now his fingernails are often full of earth and his components are almost always laced with cat hair. His cool, dark magic is now flavoured with the subtlest lick of warmth, like embers glowing on sleeping fire logs. The sun is still an adversary, but he welcomes the day with the knowledge of its life-giving light, listening to the dull buzzing of bees and the scratching of ink to parchment behind him. He begins to really value the meaning of life- every year watching the fleeting lifespan of a plant come to glorious fruition and then receding as fast as it had entered the garden. Soon the garden is bare for another winter, and he notices another crease in Caleb's brow, another grey hair, a stride that falls fractionally slower than the year before.
Despite the harsh realities and cycles of life, there will always be a constant in the turning of spring. And there's a delicate symphony to be heard amongst the simple sounds of a garden being enjoyed. Soon Essek learns the tune and begins to sing it himself- teaching it wherever he goes, for the rest of his life.
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Tch if I ever ask you that, check my temperature or something I might be dying. I’ll walk to the nearest hospital.
But hi. How’ve you been or whatever? - Bakugou
LMFAO there he is !! i’ll write you a nice eulogy <33
i just came back from spending nine hours under the sun ): went shopping n all, did some more grad shit.
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