#❝ there's something tragic about you something so magic about you don't you agree ❞ ;; halsin
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Character tags :3
#❝ i'm here trying not to bite your neck but it's beautiful and i'm gonna get so drunk on you ❞ ;; tav#❝ am i left to bleed waiting for the moment when you've had your fun ❞ ;; cazador#❝ crawl on your belly 'til the sun goes down you'll never wear their broken crown ❞ ;; shadowheart#❝ love the night love the mystery love to gaze into infinity ❞ ;; gale#❝ such a pure devotion to your skin who'll absolve you from your sin ❞ ;; lae'zel#❝ fighting for what's already been and demons will come 'round to haunt you again ❞ ;; wyll#❝ don't tell you to calm down you're about to tear this fuckin' place down ❞ ;; karlach#❝ there's something tragic about you something so magic about you don't you agree ❞ ;; halsin#❝ in sleep he sang to me in dreams he came that voice which calls to me and speaks my name ❞ ;; the emperor#❝ take it easy on me i'm afraid you're never satisfied ❞ ;; dark urge#❝ oh sinnerman where you gonna run to ❞ ;; raphael
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Babe, there's something tragic about you,
Something so magic about you,
Don't you agree? X
.
nude version on my twitter
#my art#my artwork#art#artists on tumblr#digital art#bg3#baldur's gate 3#shadow'zel#shadowheart#bg3 lae'zel#lae'zel#bg3 shadowheart#shadowzel#laezel#wlw#sketch
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critical role ships as hozier songs
vax / keyleth : francesca
percy / vex : work song
pike / scanlan : foreigner's god
fjord / jester : nobody
beau / yasha : as it was
caleb / essek : from eden
imogen / laudna : NFWMB
orym / dorian : like real people do
ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes
specific lyrics that i feel like represent the pairings under the cut!
vax / keyleth : francesca
how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?
my life was a storm, since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?
if i could hold you for a minute, darling, i'd go through it again
it was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away
i would not change it each time, heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i
percy / vex : work song
when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her
and i was burning up a fever, i didn't care much how long i lived
but i swear, i thought i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong i did
if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me
in the low lamplight, i was free, heaven and hell were words to me
pike / scanlan : foreigner's god
she moved with shameless wonder, the perfect creature rarely seen
her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me
wondering who i copy, mustering some tender charm
breaking if i try conveying, the broken love i make to her
fjord / jester : nobody
i'd be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave
but i've had no love like your love from nobody
if i had the choice between hearing either noise, the excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voice
and on the other side, why should we deny the truth? we could have less to worry about, honey, i won't lie to you
beau / yasha : as it was
and in a few days i will be there, love, whatever here that's left of me is yours, just as it was
the lights were as bright as my baby, but your love was unmoved
tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me and how long i've been away
the shape that i'm in now, your shape in the doorway, make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day
and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too
caleb / essek : from eden
there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?
honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago
innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, i should know
there's something broken about this, but i might be hoping about this
a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree
imogen / laudna : NFWMB
give your heart and soul to charity, cause the rest of you, the best of you, honey, belongs to me
ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?
if i was born as a blackthorn tree, i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies
ain't it the life of you, your lightning of the blaze?
orym / dorian : like real people do
i will not ask you where you came from, i will not ask and neither should you
i know that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago
honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do
ashton / fearne : dinner & diatribes
i knew well from our first hookup, the look of mischief in your eyes
your friends are a fate that befell me, hell is the talking type, i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight
honey, i laugh when it sinks in, a pillar i am, upright
now that the evening is slowing, now that the end's in sight, honey, it's easier knowing what you'd do to me tonight
oh, let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised and that kind of love
#for simplicity i only did pc romances that are canon and requited#so like yes beau and caleb both had crushes on jester but they had official relationships with other people#zero shade to any non canon ships i am a proud multishipper these were just my thoughts#critical role#vox machina#mighty nein#bells hells#vaxleth#percahlia#pikelan#fjorester#beauyasha#shadowgast#imodna#dorym#callowmoore#keyleth#keyleth of the air ashari#vax'ildan#percy de rolo#vex'ahlia#scanlan shorthalt#pike trickfoot#fjord stone#jester lavorre#beau lionett#yasha nydoorin#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#imogen temult
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like imagine you see a band play at a village fête and you introduce yourself to them bc you think they're cool and you want to be in a band and you impress their de facto leader with being great at guitar so he lets you in the band and you eventually start writing together and become good friends because you bond over the death of each of your mothers and jerk off together and he has this other friend who he's really close with and you just fucking hate him he just gets on your nerves until he dies tragically and your friend receives £100 for his birthday so he takes you to paris and you spend the week taking pictures of each other in matching silly hats and sleeping in the same bed and you keep writing together you keep writing together and you both decide to credit all the songs either of you write to both of you as a shared name and your career begins to take off and you keep writing together and he writes you a valentines day card but takes it back to write a love song on it and you keep writing together and boy your career has really taken off and you're in movies and you're everywhere and you're put on display for the entire world at each others sides and you keep writing together and your cat has kittens and you name them pyramus and thisbe and you give him pyramus the part you played when you performed the rude mechanicals together and you keep writing together and he tries acid and likes it and you try it too and you try it for the first time with him because you don't want him to be alone on a trip and you look into his eyes and you dissolve into him and he gets more into drugs and you like drugs but not as much not like him and you meet a girl shes a photographer and you like her like really like her and you click so much it's noticeable and when your friend sees this he does acid and says he's god and calls up this artist and cheats on his wife with her and he clicks with her too just like that and you go away together with the rest of the band and everything changes and it sucks so you leave and you're writing together less now you write on your own and so does he and boy this girl is really something so you marry her you marry your photographer quietly and out of the public eye and a week later he marries his artist and you still write together a little but it's mostly separate now and you want different things and he plays you a tape of him and his wife having sex and you fall out and you try hard to keep the band together but it's ending and eventually he says quietly that he's leaving the band so you put out in the press that you're leaving first and you sue him and he sues you and moves across an ocean and you write you write alone this time and you write about him and it's mean and he writes about you and it's meaner and you write about other things too but you still write about him and years pass years pass and you run into him and jam and it's like old times it's like nothing happened it's magic and you invite him to write with you and come with you to new orleans and he agrees and he cancels and you dont see him for a long time until you visit his home and spend some time together and as you leave he says think of me every now and then old friend and you go and it's the last time you see him you call him every so often and you call him and talk about making bread and then he's dead and you never got to fix any of it even though you know eventually you would have but you can't now and you keep writing and his demo tapes are sent to you and you keep hold of them and you keep writing and you keep the tapes and eventually you put them to use and you record them and you wait decades to finish your last song with him but you do it and it's called now and then like the last thing he ever said to you in person. and you play bass
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@nessianweek | Day 03: Symphony
Baby, there's something tragic about you
Something so magic about you
Don't you agree?
Baby, there's something lonesome about you
Something so wholesome about you
Get closer to me
- From Eden, by Hozier
Nesta and Cassian enjoying a relaxed moment with music, laughter and dancing while they listen Symphonia and get ready for a night out.
Thank you @/pablochmn for this amazing piece of art! It was a pleasure working with you!
Art by: @/pablochmn
Commissioned by: @/araujoluana89 & @melphss
Characters belongs to: Sarah J. Maas
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Babe
There's something tragic about you
Something so magic about you
Don't you agree?
Lately, all I have are wips that intimidate me, so I tried to do a very quick study to get out from the claws—ended up liking this quite a bit so I thought I’d share it. Happy Friday, everyone!
#Harry James Potter#kismet draws#artists on tumblr#Trying to get out of my head and just put lines on that ghastly canvas kind of post#I also started Dwelling and can already feel my impending demise#Song: From Eden - Hozier
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james: baaaaabe
regulus: what?
james: there's something tragic about you
regulus: ...
james: something so magic about you
regulus: james-
james: don't you agree?
regulus: james i know you're speaking hozier to me
james: BaAAaaAbe~
#just me forcing my hyperfixations on my faves#from eden is jegulus coded you can't disagree#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#james potter#james fleamont potter#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#marauders#marauders era#dead gay wizards from the 70s#dead gay wizards#hozier#from eden
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A sweet angel and her corrupting devils
Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley
Requested by: @flowerhetal
Request: “The twins with an inexperienced reader”
A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'm finally back and writing. Also, I really went on a tangent for this one, I’m very sorry. And I had to rewrite most of the book because I wanted it to be a BFB as Ginny's bestie, but by TOOTP Ginny is 14 and the twins are 17-18, and I knew someone would pick it up and yikes. So say hello to Ron's new bestie, who is legal. I’m gonna be honest, this one was difficult to write and I didnt like how slow it was because I was just pushing to get it uploaded after so long. I really don't feel like this is even in my top 10.
T/W: Virgin reader, Twins kinda baby reader, Umbridge causing pain, Fingering, Praise
The Twins were such sweethearts.
Despite their joking nature, they treated you like a glass statue. Even when they picked you up, they handled you with care.
Fred and George were 3 years older than you. Being Ron’s best friend meant that, at first, the twins saw you as an annoying little sister, just without the trademark hair and freckles. But then the attraction became increasingly obvious. Fred and George would pay more attention to you and always wanted to sit beside you when you stayed for a sleepover. After a brief conversation between the two, they had realised that you had become another shared trait for the twins.
It was only fair that they agreed to share your attention.
As the years passed and you all got older, that attraction never faded. The twins flocked to you. Whenever a new prank was ready, you would never be a target. But they’d make sure that you were there to bear witness since they loved the sound of your laughter.
You started going to them more often, telling them about your day and listening to theirs. They never let anyone mess with you, saying that anyone who did would become the next target for their best prank yet. However, you didn't think that threat would extend to staff members.
When Delores Umbridge walked through the doors of Hogwarts School, she didn’t plan to let you all go about your regular business. She had a plan, which involved corporal punishment. They had found you buried under a pile of duvets in your room, missing both lunch and dinner. When they first stepped into your room, they didn’t think you were even there until they heard soft whimpers coming from the blanket pile.
Pulling back a few layers revealed your shaking form. Eyes red and puffy from hours of crying and arm red raw from both Umbridge’s quill and the insatiable urge to itch that comes with any scar. The mantra on your arm read ‘I shall pay more attention in class instead of daydreaming’.
Even when you tried to hide away and burrow back into the safety of the blankets, George cradled your face in his hands.
“Sweet girl, it’s okay. She got you too, did she? Why don't you come out and let me and Freddie look after you”
The effect they had on you was pure magic. They could talk you into anything with their soft voices. You slowly emerged, clinging to George like a baby koala while Fred took the chance to examine your arm. He cooed softly as he pressed a kiss to your palm.
“Baby, you’ve been touching it haven’t you? You know you’re not meant to scratch your scars”
All Hogwarts rooms had a first aid box. Nothing too fancy, just a few bandages and elixirs for those first years who couldn't wait to duel. Although Fred could have used a spell to soothe your wound, a simple bandage had that closeness and cozy feel to it. There's something romantically tragic about bandaging your lover's wounds.
His fingers applied the elixir like a massaging oil before carefully applying the bandage. All the while, your face stayed tucked into George's neck. George splayed his fingers across your back, his lips brushing along your ear.
“We just want to take care of you. That’s all we’ve ever wanted, sweet girl”
Fred set aside the bottle and sat on the bed, his hands finding your hips. He slowly pulled you from George's lap and onto his own, his chest against your back while his hands encircled your middle. You didn't mind when his hands drifted to your abdomen, they always made you feel so safe.
“I bet no other boy has ever taken care of you, have they?”
George cooed while his own hands stroked your thighs, slowly getting higher. When you shook your head, he moved forward to part your thighs and nestle between them, causing your skirt to ride up. Fred pulled your skirt up slowly, letting you object if you wanted to.
“We know how to take care of pretty babies like you. You just have to trust Georgie and I. You can do that, can’t you?”
They already knew that you were putty in their hands, but your meek approval made it so much better. George slowly pulled your panties down and put them in his pocket before he spread your legs more. Just a glance at you told him all he needed to know. You really were a virgin. He shot Fred a glance before both boys just stared at you. Fred pressed a kiss to your ear.
“Are you sure you want this, baby? To give yourself to us like this? We can’t go back afterwards”
Your meek voice filled their ears despite how quiet you were.
“I want you both. Please? Please make the pain go away”
George leaned forwards and kissed your lips, his hand trailing down to stroke your clit. He revelled in the surprised whimper that seemed to escape you. While his thumb rubbed slow circles over your button, his fingers glided down to tease your pussy. George gathered your slick and slowly pushed his finger inside. You were tight. Too tight.
“Baby, do you ever…play with yourself?”
You looked up at Fred first before looking at George, your cheeks pink.
“No, is that wrong?”
Oh, you were sweet.
Fred pressed a kiss to your temple while George's lips kissed the tip of your nose. They wanted to teach you everything. Every kissing technique, every position, every special toy. You would be their eager little student, desperate for kisses and praise. They wondered if you got wet just from being called their good girl.
“It's not wrong at all, sweetie. It just means that Georgie and I get to spend more time with you. Practice makes perfect, right?”
George's finger slid back inside of you, keeping a slow pace to let you adjust. Fred's hand toyed with your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples while his other hand rested across your middle to keep you still when you squirmed. Every moan filled their ears as if you were their own private singer. Pure music. George could feel how much of your juices was coating his fingers, you were wet enough for more. His second finger joined the first, your walls practically suffocating them. His fingers angled up and pushed deeper.
A loud moan left your lips, your walls clamping down on George's fingers. Your body squirmed in Freds grip. His hand left your nipples to cover your mouth. God forbid anyone heard and interrupted them. George kept his thumb on your throbbing clit, adding pressure to keep you spaced out.
When your moans slowly subsided, George slowly pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to his lips. Fred kept you in a tight grip, his hand leaving your mouth to stroke your cheek softly. Your body trembled between them, eyes still closed and chest heaving for oxygen.
“You did such a great job, baby. Such a sweet girl. I bet Georgie’s fingers felt so good”
They waited a while before deciding to clean you up, wanting to take in the pretty sight for a while longer.
They liked how pretty their girl looked for them.
#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley x fem#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x you#fred weasley#fred weasley smut#george weasley smut#fred weasley fic#fred weasley x you#george weasley headcanon#weasley twins smut#weasley twins#fred weasely x y/n#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley headcanons#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley x fem!reader#george weasly x reader#george wealsey imagine#george wealsey x reader#george weasely smut
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Hi! Just curious. What exactly is that you didn't like about Viktor's arc? I've seen a few people saying the same thing and idk if I'm missing something or I'm just too over the moon about him that my brain has gone smooth haha.
oh no oh no i'm probably going to write like a whole dissertation about this I am so sorry I'm literally cracking my knuckles I have so many thoughts and not all of them I'll even get to articulate here.
Saying this upfront: you aren't smooth-brained for disagreeing with me or liking it. I want to say that outright as I'm a very opinionated person and I am going to state my very strong opinions very plainly.
That being said : I genuinely feel like season 2 needed like... character writing 101 for a lot of these characters, especially the two characters whose names start with a 'V'. I'm so serious if one of my students brought in a story like this, I would (gently) take it apart.
If you don't want to read the whole thing I'm about to unleash, the crux of it is this for me:
Throughout the course of the season, it's very hard to discern how many of Viktor's decisions are his own. He lacks the baseline autonomy that's necessary for satisfying development. The magic of the hexcore becomes a shiny distraction that makes meaningful development impossible. Additionally, season 2 forgets so many of the themes and threads they explored with Viktor in season one explicitly in terms of class and his position on war and weapons manufacturing.
And, like almost everything in season 2, these issues are compounded because his story is done at a pace that's completely lightning-fast and prioritizes the wrong things.
Here's my thesis:
How Does a Man Like Viktor Become the Machine Herald? Arcane's Answer: Magic orb or vague sadness or something idk.
Harry Lloyd said in a season 1 commentary somewhere that one of the main appeals for Viktor is knowing who he is in the game and wondering how you take a man like him, who is so kind and has people's best interests at heart, and see him slowly become the machine herald.
I agree 100% that this is part of the story's appeal for players. And it would be a delight and surprise for non-players.
We... get that very juicy premise ripped from us. We don't see him making decisions grounded in the character they set up in season 1 at all, really. And its very unsatisfying seeing him be rendered a mere victim of circumstance with vague attachments to his past self.
This is not necessarily a complaint about arcane herald vs machine herald (I did not play league and am not attached to the lore) but a complaint that a lot of what happens with Viktor in season 2 seems very unattached to his psychology.
Christian Linke himself said (and I forget where, so I am sorry if I'm paraphrasing terribly) that part of the question he wanted the audience to ask with Viktor is how much of this is really him? Bluntly. That is incredibly silly. It's such an important question that it makes all other interesting questions one might have about him really hard to parse.
That's not compelling. That's a mistake. That's not rooted in character anymore but a vague magical orb.
Here are some questions that would have been more interesting for us to ask, Christian.
How does his desire to tamper out human emotion prompt him to do the unspeakable? What leads him there?
How far is he willing to go to take away human pain and suffering?
Is his version of pacifism really, in actuality, a form of violence?
Will his connection with others be enough to bring him back to his humanity? (this is a question we were not prompted to ask, and if we were, it would have made the final scene (which I love regardless) a lot more satisfying.
What is the root of his hunger for power? How much of his quest is a hunger for power and control over others (rooted in a fractured and tragic sense of self)? and how much is it rooted in his desire to help? Where is that line?
Any of these questions or any other questions we could enjoy exploring with Viktor become tampered with and weakened by the fact that a vague magical entity is controlling him in a vague and unrelatable way.
In short, 'How much of Viktor is still Viktor?' is a far less interesting question than. 'how is Viktor going to act, change, and learn? ' We are forced to ask the first at the cost of the second. He clearly is not fully himself this season.
The Dropping of Themes and Traits
Season 1's exploration of Viktor was multi-layered and fascinating. I feel like we got to see the establishment of a kind-hearted, sometimes awkward yet quite funny, passionate scientist.
I don't feel we see much of any of this in season 2. The stupid fucking orb overrides a lot of the traits we've come to know and love. This would have been cool if done with an ounce of care, understanding, or autonomy.
In season 1, we see Viktor in a position of powerlessness over and over. We see Viktor ignored and looked down upon by those in power both for his disability and, crucially, for his status as a Zaunite.
We're introduced to him as someone who is desperate to prove himself and carve a place for himself. He knows he's brilliant. And he knows he can help people with that big brain of his. That's all he wants. And he wants to make his mark (something I theorize is rooted in his loneliness as well as his ambition)
(Side note: I find a lot of the debate on whether or not Viktor is insecure a little silly because you can be both confident and insecure. He's incredibly secure in his abilities as a scientist, but I fully do believe he places all his worth on his work because he's not as confident in other places - represented visually by him trying to point out his boat when Sky is looking at him in the flashback. A 'don't look at me look at what I've made' type thing.)
Anyways. Viktor is willing to risk his position as an assistant and, honestly, his position at the academy and in Piltover as a whole to help Jayce. This is not just because he's 'lol so chaotic' or whatever. This is actually quite calculated. He knows he will get nowhere in Piltovian society without bending rules, because Piltover was not built for people like him.
"Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?"
But even in taking that huge step for himself, his new role is complicated.
We see him sit through meetings where his people are talked about like burdens. We see his closest (and honestly only) ally and partner speak over him in meetings and overrule his desires and wants when it comes to the future of hextech in massive ways. We see Jayce call all Zaunites 'dangerous' (I love jayce... don't shoot me please. But we do often forget that this does canonically happen and what makes Jayce so incredible is that he grows from this point)
The moment on the bridge directly causes him not to tell Jayce about what he's doing to himself. Jayce apologizing right after doesn't matter so much as it reinforces one of Viktor's fears: he is alone.
We see his illness, !!!!caused by Piltover's oppression!!!!, take over. We see him and Jayce grow apart. We see the way his loneliness impacts his desperation and the way his desperation impacts his loneliness and we see the way he's so damn afraid and just wants to live. We see how much he wants to help people, and how even though he's tried so hard he never got to achieve that because the limits of this society just don't allow for it.
Season 1 Act one is Viktor taking action for himself. season 1 Acts 2 and 3 are a brutal reminder that no matter how hard he works. No matter how hard he claws. He will always be who he is. And that makes him Powerless in this society. I honestly find it a really compelling storyline in terms of the 'bootstrap theory' and debunking that - but a different topic for a different time!
At the end of the season, he's able to gain a huge amount of power - speaking at the council about freeing his city - through Jayce's platforming and allyship. But at the end of the day it doesn't matter, because what the council is doing is too little too late - people in Zaun are too tired and too hurt - and he gets caught in the crossfire.
Despite all this, Season 2 does not engage with Viktor's being a Zaunite outside of the fact that he returns to Zaun first. But the themes explored related to class and power are gone - as they are with everyone else really.
It makes sense to me that one of the first things Viktor would do when granted a new body and new power would be to go and try to help people in Zaun, but the ambiguous mechanisms of the magic inside him, the immediate divorce with Jayce, and the bizarre way he goes about it don't make this land.
And even the return is rendered sort of meaningless. Where is the personal connection to this place? Why are we given no details related to his past here? Why doesn't he return to somewhere more personal for him?
He speaks in this cold, unaffected monotone. This healing ability seems to be the 'recursive impulse' - so him finally getting to help people just like he wanted feels rooted so much in the arcane influence it becomes murky and strange.
This is more nitpicky, and I'd be okay with it being ignored in the right context - but another aspect of his character that gets dropped is his work as a scientist. His desire to help people not through magic, but through invention. This would have been fascinating. (They try to keep this alive through vague allusions to 'look at what I've created' blah blah but again, so much of it is all ORB)
What inventions would a fully autonomous Viktor who decided to leave Jayce and return to Zaun of his own fruition create? Would they toe the line between inventions of progress and inventions of destruction?
Guess we'll never know!
Speaking of weapons. Let's talk about weapons. Let's talk about Viktor's vehement opposition to weapons not being explored within the context of his relationship with Jayce or outside of the rule that there are none allowed in the commune - which becomes quite meaningless when he agrees to work with Ambessa. Yes - he saw those blueprints on the table. But that's all we get.
Also, the fact that Jayce just unquestionably builds hextech weapons in the finale, and they're used as a good thing and a way to fight off Noxus, makes me want to claw my own hair out. Like - my themes ! Not my precious themes !
Let's also talk about him working with Ambessa. There's no build-up to that decision, not near enough character work to make that believable and considering the way the plot is written elsewhere, I fully believe this is a huge part of the problem of the writer's room dropping the issue of class. The idea that Viktor, the character that they set up, would ever willingly work with Ambessa is laughable. There are so many other ways he could have gotten to the hexcore in his fully evolved form, easily bested Jayce, and evolved. And they did absolutely nothing in the writing of season 2 to make that an interesting or satisfying choice.
An arc is only an arc if there is substance between point a and b. There's no substance here. There's vague orb. There are little glimpses of the pain he's in because of his separation from Jayce. Teeny tiny allusions to him trying to shut down his emotions. That's simply not enough.
You cannot bring a character who values choice and autonomy, whose been made to feel so powerless and is empathetic, to "choice is meaningless" without a deep study of his psychology and pain. Viktor taking away the autonomy of others, inhabiting their bodies. Being super chill with it. Okay. Coo.
Where does his desire for evolution even come from? For real? Because they seem to mistake Viktor's ambition with his desire for perfection, which is something that was never really... brought up? It could be believable that he felt this way. But where were the signs of this? Not just in season 1 but in season 2. He always wanted to help, not make humanity perfect. Because this is grounded in so little emotional logic I assume we're supposed to be satisfied with the idea that magic orb + machine herald form = ??? this ??? like ??? why???
If he wants to create a world where nobody can feel pain or complex emotions of any sort anymore, which is not psychologically where he was at the end of season 1 at all despite all he went through, you have to give us an event (ideally multiple) in season 2 that could break his mind this badly. Jayce killing him could have been this, but it happened so fast and was executed so impersonally that it doesn't work. He doesn't really acknowledge it happened the next time they see each other. Which... would probably be important to do... again emotional logic where?
His entire speech about humanity at the end of episode 6 feels like it's trying to be a catalyst. But it also feels... incredibly generic and impersonal. It felt written to play over a flashy montage of all the other characters fighting. Not for Viktor. If this was Viktor's moment where he finally snaps, we should probably focus on Viktor. And, of course, it doesn't help that he has this odd monotone this whole time, as if he's not fully in control of himself (this is not a rip on Harry Lloyd at all. He did what he was told and did it very, very well.)
Because remember. They wanted us to ask this. They wanted us to ask how much of this was orb. I think because they knew on some level they could not create a compelling enough story to get viktor where they wanted him to be for some reason without orb. That none of this would make sense without the vague spice of the arcane. And guess what it still doesn't.
Becuase people will not relate to a vague arcane influence. Connect to it. We would want to see what actually in his life made him become this. What in his psychology outside of magic orb made him do this? They provide vague tastes of this in the same way La Croix flavors its drinks.
Brought Back Wrong Can Work: Here's Why This One Didn't
I also really hate the trope of killing off characters only to bring them back. And back again. And... again. Because guess what. It takes one of the core elements of the human experience - death- and cheapens it. This for sure happens with Viktor the second time he dies.
But what i do like about bringing someone back from the dead is when you consider how doing so can bring someone back wrong. Or changed.
But because the orb is so impersonal. So bland. Such a vague sinister force that has very little to do with character, it doesn't... work. It doesn't hit. Viktor doesn't really grapple with being brought back from the dead against his will in a meaningful way.
Timing
You can see concepts of a plan, if you will, within this story. I can see how Viktor would naturally go to the undercity after waking up changed with new healing powers. But it happens way to fast. So bizarrely. I can see how he would build a society like this (of course, the power of that is dulled because orb and by the fact that we don't see it happen). I can see how the pain of being rejected and left behind by the only person who made him feel like he wasn't alone (Jayce) could have lead to a category 5 'make me evil' sort of meltdown.
Becoming the Herald, asking Singed to begin the transformation, is the only true time in this show in act 2 (before his final moments) where it feels like he's making a choice for himself. But again, we get so little time with him. To see his emotions. To elegantly point from that moment with Jayce to Viktor's need to transform and in doing so rid himself of emotion (something that they did not expand on enough ) Like oh my god, how much more satisfying would it have been to see Viktor torn apart by his own emotions - in his own viktor way - and to have singed offer him a way out of his pain - and then have viktor take it. There are certain things that should be obvious.
But It's both the timing of and the structure of the story - how quickly we cut between plotlines - that makes this really hard to follow. That makes moments that could be something feel rushed and sloppy.
Let's Talk about Sky
Viktor's guilt over sky was absolutely reasonable to explore, but it was not.... all that haunted him. To make Sky the sole guide/companion to him in the astral/arcane headspace I found to be a bizarre and honestly kind of offensive choice.
Amanda overton said she was used as a "Jayce substitute" essentially. And... why? Literally why. Why would you write a character whose sole deal is having an unrequited crush on a man only to bring her back to be 'the embodiment of his guilt and loneliness' as well as a 'substitute' - it feels... icky to me? Just in a writing women and especially women of color point of view? And it didn't feel true to Viktor's character either.
I think if we actually got to know sky better in season 1, this would have worked because it would have been obvious how different she was, how she was a product of his mind or the hexcore or whatever (the lore being vague here doesn't help...)
Plot Twist because I keep hating on Orb: They Could Have Made The Orb Really Cool
Here's the thing. Magic influence on its own can be used to write extremely compelling plots. Walk with me.
Imagine Viktor wakes up. Immediately knows something's wrong with him. That something inside him is toying with him. Making him see things (visions of not only sky, but maybe his parents, Jayce, Heimer). He wakes up earlier in act 1. Despite his anger, he stays with jayce in order to better understand himself and his powers. All the while, he is haunted by whispers and visions of the hexcore. What if it whispers to him of his own insecurities and failures?
What if Things with Jayce are tense. Jayce has to admit to making weapons again, in an argument leading to more haunting visions from the hexcore offering him an out: emotional numbness. You would never have to feel again Viktor. If you let me in fully, you would never have to be alone again. You'd be more powerful, Viktor.
Imagine Viktor is there during that attack ambessa orchestrated. That he has the horror of witnessing Jayce wield his hammer in a genuine attempt to defend himself and the people he loves. He sees first hand how hextech is being used for destruction in a way that horrifies him.
Imagine him being accused of being a part of it because he's a Zaunite - humiliated in some way. Publicly. Imagine the emotional trauma of this resulting in a falling out so devastating he embraces his visions of the hexcore - gives into the numbness. And only then leaves. With the hexcore... he feels better than he has in years. He hopes he can give the gift of this to others. Now he is under orb influence, but now the way he's gotten there is more satisfying to me at least.
Now imagine him fighting the orb influence in key moments. Imagine the color in his eyes coming back. Imagine Viktor's relationship with the arcane being more of a dance than a vague entanglement. Imagine its influence haunting him in the same way Jinx's visions haunt her. Imagine it being personal rooted in his character.
Old Man Viktor
Listen. I am the old man Viktor connoisseur. I love him. I love the idea of him. I wrote a whole fic about him, during which I had to spend a lot of time with the story. It's sort of... very much impossible to make much sense of?
I'm not mad at the fact that it's an obvious retcon. Honestly, because I think from a storytelling perspective, it worked a lot better than most of the decisions they made this season.
But I'm not a fan of (shocking) how little time we spend with him. How little chance we get to understand his motivatons. And also. What the fuck he said to Jayce to make Jayce's first line of action killing him? In my fic, I made it that Jayce needed to shoot Viktor to get the hexcore out, so he could communicate to viktor without influence. But that felt like heavy lifting I shouldn't necessarily have to do for something so important. It also doesn't feel like a compelling or satisfying question to make your audience have to wrestle with.
The Final Scene
Want to say upfront I am not one of the people who did not like Jayce's speech.
I was quite moved by it. And aside from the perhaps out of place mention of the illness brought on by Piltover which I can understand the criticism for, I felt it was beautiful. (I am disabled btw)
That being said. I think i'd be a sobbing mess on the floor if the themes Jayce is presenting in his speech were more present throughout season 2. Because we really don't see this enough - the desire for perfection.
I'm also not one of those people who thinks Viktor's insecurities weren't present in season 1. To me, they were and were obvious, but not enough in his motivations and actions in season 2 to make Jayce's speech land like it could.
I really loved Jayce's arc in season 2. Him immediately embracing Viktor after he woke from the goo was surprising but felt right. But I wish they had more genuine conflict rooted in their conflict in season 1 that would allow their final moment to land even harder.
I really liked the final scene, and it made me an emotional mess. But weirdly, I'd almost like it as a short film removed from the context of the season two, which says just how little Viktor's arc this season contributed to the moment.
Final Thoughts
I'm so sorry I went so in-depth. I just love him as a character and feel he was very much not done justice.
We can attribute some of this to the lack of time. But when you know you have a lack of time, you need to write with that in mind instead of trying to do it all. And ultimately, I found a lot of scenes this season a waste of precious time. They had so many characters alone contemplating something intangible or alone and trapped for episodes. They didn't plan this with the care and precision needed to pull it off.
I also want to note that I know I say here a lot that there's a lot they needed to make "more obvious". This is not because I'm stupid. But when you're a writer, you need to know what to highlight and what you can leave vague so you leave your audience exploring the right nuances and asking the satisfying questions.
Anyways umm. The end. Holy shit, I'm so sorry I wrote so much.
#i literally typed this in a caffine induced frenzy#oh my god its so long kldfjashdlkfjsd#im sure there are things i missed or did not explain well#ask bee#how many times can i hate on orb#SDKLFJD#its not even an orb#i know this#if someone reads this whole thing they deserve a cookie or something#see this is why tumblr might be a problem for me actually#no character limit DKJFHSDLKF#if you keep reading this could very much be like a do you like the color of the sky situation#where you have to just keep scrolling and scrolling#god i need work to start back up again KLDFJSHDFLK#side note one of my twitter moots got a strawpage anon that was like#you hate his arc you must hate viktor#which is so funny because#i literally love him so much#that's why i hate his arc KLDFJHSD#one thing i do like about viktors storyline and i still dont think it fully works#is how many of his principles he clung to even under magical influence#at least at the start#bee talks arcane
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Recipe for Love - Peach Cobbler
Summary:
Azriel finds a bakery and creates his very own reward system.
Warnings:
Kinda Rhys Bashing, but when don't I do that?
A/N:
thanks to @k-godling for listening to me rambling on about this and finding the perfect name for that Bakery! This will eventually be a series consisting out of One-Shots, so if you have an idea, shoot it my way! (Also, if anybody actually tries out that recipe, let me know lol)
Peach Cobbler Filling 2 ½ cups sliced canned peaches ¾ cup canned peach syrup ¼ cup brown sugar (packed) 1 ½ tablespoons cornstarch Few grains salt Dough 1 tablespoon granulated sugar ⅛ teaspoon baking soda 1 cup prepared biscuit mix (or your own biscuit recipe) ⅓ cup cultured sour cream 2 to 3 tablespoons milk (if needed) Sweet or sour cream for topping
Place peaches in bottom of casserole. Mix peach syrup, brown sugar, cornstarch and salt. Pour over peaches. Set casserole in hot oven, while mixing dough. Stir sugar and soda into biscuit mix. Add cream and milk to make soft dough; mix lightly. Place by spoonfuls on top of hot peaches. Bake 30 to 35 minutes until well browned. Serve warm with sweet or sour cream.
The Spymaster of the Night Court was contemplating killing his High Lord.
Or maybe it was Azriel contemplating killing his brother.
Maybe it was both.
Whatever it was, Azriel was definitely mentally planning Rhys’ tragic demise as he trudged his way through Velaris.
It wasn’t the first time he had done it. Wouldn’t be the last time either.
He would never actually go through with it.
(Probably.)
Regardless of how annoying Rhys was… regardless of how the words of last Winter Solstice were still echoing in his head.
Alone the thought of a pleasure hall made him want to throw up these days, after all.
He didn’t. Azriel knew better than that.
It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
It was his own fault for allowing himself to fall in love with a mated female. It was his own fault for thinking that maybe he had a chance…for thinking that maybe…
He had never had a chance. Pretending otherwise wasn’t going to help him.
Rhys had made himself clear months ago and then had done the same again today…today when Lucien had asked Elain to dinner and she had agreed.
Of course, she had agreed. Azriel had taken himself out of the running months ago.
Azriel had followed his High Lord’s order to the letter.
Azriel had done everything that was asked of him, even when it had broken his fucking heart and left him…desolate.
And as a thank you, he got Rhys’ crooning in his mind that See, Az? They worked things out.
They had. Good for them.
The food had tasted like ash in his mouth and he hadn’t managed to get down more than half a plate. Not more before he had excused himself, citing unrest in Spring…and had walked out of the River House without even properly seeing where he was going.
Away. Far, far away.
He had half a mind to let the shadows take him away. Maybe somewhere deep in the Illyrian Steppes, where there was no being anywhere near him. Where he could throw his magic at a mountain and destroy some rocks with the fury that embered deep within him…
You should get a treat! The shadows told him brightly at that moment, nearly making him stumble.
What?
Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him.
The more forlorn he got, the more depressed…the more optimistic they became. The more they tried to get him to smile…the more they fed him with petty gossip included in their intelligence gathering… the more they did everything to make his life easier for him.
They were trying.
It was sweet.
I am not a dog, he grumbled back to them. He wasn’t.
And besides…he didn’t deserve a treat anyway. For what? Doing his job? Surviving another week? Not killing Rhys during lunch that day? Not wringing Lucien’s neck for politely asking Elain to dinner? Not scratching out somebody’s eyes like a rabid…
Of course not, Master, the shadows agreed easily. You should still get a treat. Something nice, just for yourself.
Something nice, just for yourself, he turned these words around in his head.
He did have a lack of that in his life, but then he always had. He had never really had started to amass anything…collect anything…no little things to litter his rooms with…not even as much as a hobby, unless one called insomnia and stabbing the practice puppets in the House of Wind until they were reduced to rubble that.
All of it was just…his job was his life and that was it.
And it wasn’t like he deserved it anyway.
Just like he didn’t deserve a mate, didn’t deserve Mor and didn’t deserve Elain…He didn’t deserve a fucking treat either.
He clearly didn’t deserve anything that made his life easier.
There’s this little bakery, the shadows proposed quietly. You could buy yourself a slice of cake!
A slice of cake. A slice of cake before flying back to the House of Wind, barricading himself into his room and writing another report.
A slice of cake before he would let the loneliness take over completely…before he would never even allow himself to look at any female ever again because he was not going to go through this pain again.
Being a little bit overdramatic, Master? the shadows asked him with a sigh and he wanted to growl.
No. No, actually, not really.
Why shouldn’t he be overdramatic?
At least in his own damn mind. It wasn’t like he was throwing that into anybody’s faces. Even when he had wanted to. He had wanted to scratch that smug little smile off Rhys’ face with his bare hand and…
You don’t, Master, the shadows sighed. You didn’t even want us to steal his favourite jacket.
They had offered. They had offered to make Rhys’ life filled with annoying inconveniences. Azriel had said no after that Winter Solstice. Now he was reconsidering it.
The problem was just that it wasn’t going to make him happy.
The shades would be petty and that would be it, but he wouldn’t…it wouldn’t make him feel better.
He would still feel unfairly treated…he would still feel always pushed to the edges of his family…the one whose emotions didn’t really matter…who’s happiness wasn’t a priority, not even a footnote, set firmly behind whatever was good for the court and that was that.
He was the one send to do the dirty work, the one expected to deal with it, because clearly it didn’t bother him… which was a lie. Of course, it bothered him. But his skillset made him the obvious choice so…
Mor and whatever these 5 centuries had been…Mor who could have outright turned him down when he had yearned for her and had never bothered to do so. He was still waiting for her to do it. Even now.
His hands clenched slowly, the scars feeling tighter. Autumn was coming…as soon as the leaves began to turn, the joints started to hurt him.
They have double chocolate chip cookies, the shadows whispered like it was a state secret. He couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.
Sugar was his one weakness.
The shadows knew that.
It would just be a few copper coins…maybe a silver one or two…his steps faltered.
One slice of cake? As a treat? Just a few minutes sat in one quiet corner of a bakery…alone. With just his shadows…that did sound…nice.
As a treat for not killing Rhys, Azriel proposed. and for not doing anything, saying anything…for keeping his temper in check.
He could work with that, right?
It could be his very own reward system. One slice of cake for…for surviving another week. For not faltering. For not scratching anybody’s eyes out…for not loosing his temper and go into the illyrian Steppes and destroy a small mountain in a fit of rage.
Huh.
Maybe the shadows were onto something.
One shadows wrapped himself around his wrist and started tugging him along and Azriel followed.
Down the bustling streets of Velaris, towards the outskirts of the Rainbow.
There, Beehive Bakery took up the ground floor of a brownstone Townhouse…a yellow and white striped awning stretching over the length of it. It’s name was screamed from it’s sign above the door that was pushed open, quiet but lively conversation reaching his ears from within. There were three tables outside, filled with people, but as he walked into the shop, careful to tuck his wings into his body…there were still one or two tables left. Even one right there in one corner.
It smelled heavenly in there…like vanilla and almond, wafting out of the oven thet must be in the backroom…a young High Fae was manning the till. She looked young. More a teen than anything, dark curly hair covering her head…Her limbs hadn’t yet lost all their coltish length.
“Welcome to Beehive Bakery, what can I get you?” she asked him with more enthusiasm than he had seen in a long, long time.
For a moment, he came up short, eyes roving over the baked goods laid out behind the glass of the counter…and then finally snagging on the first cake in front of him…Peach Cobbler. It looked…great with a golden brown crust…there was one slice missing so he could see the perfect orange of carefully sliced peaches peeking out.
“One Slice of Peach Cobbler, please,” he requested.
“Coming right up,” she chirped brightly. “Some tea as well?”
Azriel answered in the affirmative, quietly charmed by her sheer enthusiasm…A few moments later he exchanged a couple of silver coins for a plate holding a slice of peach cobbler, topped with a dollop of cream and a delicate teacup.
He took both to the table he had sussed from the beginning. Clearly the worst place in the whole shop…but for his usage, it was perfect.
The darkest corner, right in the back…covered in shadows…nobody would be able to peek at anything if he did choose to read some reports…and nobody could surprise him from the back.
It was perfect.
Perfect was also the only word he could imagine for that Peach Cobbler. Quite frankly it was best thing he had ever eaten. Tart but Sweet…and the topping crumbling and the peaches ooey gooey…it was so good it was startling. He could just get a teeny tiny bit of cinnamon in there…
Alone that Peach Cobbler had been worth every single coin.
By the first forkful, he felt likes osmehting in his chest was easing. By the time he was left with only a third of it he was already dreading to finish the whole piece, because then it would be gone.
And that just didn’t seem fair.
He watched the people entering and then leaving again, some just coming for a single loaf of bread, some of them buying pastries or slices of cake to go…some sat down with a friend and conversed with them…The Beehive Bakery seemd to be a quietly buzzing hub of Velaris.
The young girl behind the counter was busy fulfilling orders and smiling at every customer, some that called her by her name, Juniper.
Halfway through the afternoon, a new female joined her behind the yonder. This one older, much tinier, her body filled out with lush curves…Blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, held back by a handkerchief.
“Done for the day?” she asked Juniper, and Azriel watched silently how she nearly absentmindedly fluttered around the space, replacing empty displays and generally making sure everything was in order.
“I can stay if you need me, B,” Juniper said quickly but the blonde female waved her off, handing her a envelope from one of the pockets in her frilly pink apron. It had strawberries all over it, Azriel realised with some amusement. Juniper took the envelope, opened it to sneak a peek and then stared at her again.
“That’s too much,” Juniper complained, clearly longsufferingly but B just laughed.
“No, it isn’t. It’s just enough,” she promised and Juniper hugged her in thanks.
“Thanks, B,” Juniper mumbled, before hanging up her apron and disappearing. Leaving B or whatever her name actually was, clearly in charge.
In the meantime, Azriel had the shadows find him some of the reports he needed to read that were enchanted for secret keeping, only been able to be read by his eyes and his eyes only.
B knew seemingly everybody that came into the bakery, knew the names of every customer, knew their order…and so Azriel settled in at that table and spend the rest of the afternoon, reading his report and draining his tea until only dark dregs remained.
He listened to the cadence of her voice as she talked and relaxed in that little corner, where nobody paid him any mind. Nobody flinched away from him.
Nobody cared.
It wouldn’t stay his only visit. It would become a weekly tradition, a habit that he shouldn’t have but still had.
Because he wanted to go to the Beehive Bakery.
It was the one thing he wanted.
What Azriel wanted had never mattered.
Not really.
Unless it was right here. Unless it was him buying himself Peach Cobbler and cream.
Unless it was him sitting in the darkest corner and just watching.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x oc#azriel x reader#my writing#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#Recipe for Love
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Can we talk about how Hozier's "From Eden" is such an Andreil song?
Andrew to Neil:
Babe There's something tragic about you Something so magic about you Don't you agree?
(Him knowing something is up with neil, but Josten being a pipe dream nonetheless)
Neil to andrew:
Babe There's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me
(Neil knowing andrew only pretends he doesn't care about anyone, but he does care in his own way)
Neil:
No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me
(stop with the "i don't care" act, i don't have time for it)
Andrew to Neil:
Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door
( Andrew seeing the desperation in neil, the same he saw in himself )
Neil:
Babe There's something wretched about this Something so precious about this Where to begin?
(i don't know what we have, and it's probably not the usual relationship, but it's precious and i want to keep it)
Andrew:
Babe There's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this Oh, what a sin
(our "this" might me broken and frail, but i want it, even tho i shouldn't want anything)
To the strand a picnic plan for you and me A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree
I see this as them saying "we'll keep our "this" and everyone else be damned"
two broken men who found comfort in each other, and in the end their broken pieces and ragged edges fit just right
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I don't know, it might just be me, but in my head it makes so much sense
#english is not my first language#so i might be off in the interpretation#but in my head it makes sense and it's beautiful#hozier songs are poetry and no one can change my mind about it#andriel#aftg trilogy#all for the game#andrew minyard#neil josten#andreil#hozier#aftg
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I am once again thinking about Solas and how his potential arc this game could go regarding the Veil being up or down and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure [spoilers obviously] I don't like being intelligent/thoughtful on here I prefer to be stupid but here we go
In [yet another] article that came out, idk? today? Mark Darrah says the story "allows us to, hopefully, give a good conclusion to all the varied attitudes toward Solas that are going to be coming from people who love Solas, who agree with Solas, who hate Solas, people who want to kick Solas off of a building – I think that we give you the opportunity to bring that to a close, but then tell a greater story about The Veilguard and about the world as a whole."
and I don't know what to fucking think about this? They obviously know people's opinions are varied and I think it should be obvious that this is not a case where 'one ending fits all'
Because like, he is such a tragic character and I know there's gonna be an option to kill him, calm down, before you start in my inbox with "I WANT TO KILL HIM" like, you will be able to, that's kind of...almost a certainty. Especially for low approval Inquisitor/swore to stop him at all costs. Because if he Won't agree to stop trying to tear down the veil and causing mass destruction, (even after dealing with Elgarnan and Ghilly) then you'll have to kill him. Even trapping him forever isn't really an option because he created the fucking veil, man's crafty, he'd eventually find a way out. Like, If he will not and cannot see reason, then you, the protagonist, will have to end him.
It's the OTHER option that has me spinning because, you could, maybe, potentially, hopefully, talk him out of it. And if you did that, either as a romanced or friendly Inquisitor, or apparenty? Rook? based on this new info that Solas and Rook are going to have a lot of interaction, then he doesn't NEED to die. If he stops wanting to tear down the veil, he could potentially just disappear and do whatever he wants, like nerd out over magic.
And honestly, having him die on both paths is such a slap in the face for "your choices matter" because like clearly they do not if that happens; like what was the point of making me choose at the end of trespasser? If the only difference is 'stop Solas at all costs' leads to a boss fight where you kill him and 'redeem Solas' leads to ? him dying anyway somehow? Like I'm sorry but that is lazy and boring. His redemption should not end in death, he should have to live and deal with the consequences, because that could be so much more interesting.
[because I'll be real, I don't think they're going to let us have the option to tear down the veil/side with him AND have the option to keep the veil up. I think it will be one or the other no matter your choices; Simply because there is too much of a massive difference between world states of 'killed Solas to prevent him taking down the veil Thedas remains status quo' VS 'let Solas take down the veil, Thedas is now fundamentally different in an almost inconceivable way'. Like the setting for any future games depend on this; you would have to create 2 very different games. There has to be some uniformness to the world state, like; the veil remains, but it's thinned or whatever and the people of Thedas are living life more or less as usual if they ever want to make DA5. Would be wild of them do go the route of no matter what you do the veil comes down anyway. Which would be annoying if you swore to stop Solas at all costs and he just... succeeds anyway, even if he dies? Of course, there is Sandals prophecy, which I think is about the events of DA4. And devs have said in the past they had 'something' planned since Origins. "One day the magic will come back - all of it. Everyone will be just like they were" - The veil coming down and everyone gaining magic? Not just elves but humans, dwarves and qunari too? "The shadows will part and the skies will open wide" - Talking about the veil coming down?? Do shadows represent the abyss? "When he rises, everyone will see" - I'm actually convinced this is about Elgar'nan, or, something even worse; like the 'thing' that Mythal locked away, that the "evanuris in their greed could unleash" that "would destroy us all". So I think the end of DA:TV will be either the veil stays in place no matter what, or the veil comes down no matter what, which is, idk, interesting? Because again, they can't have both- that just gets too messy for the setting for the next game. They could have the veil come down no matter what, but, you would need to have a "better option" as Varric and Solas put it. Which, let's say for narrative purposes, this option exists and we tell it to Solas and he goes "Okay let's do that instead" and it results in a world state where the veil is 'down' but not in a catastrophic mega-calamity way. Even then though, some players are just not going to pick that and also if the veil comes down; what the fuck are we guarding it for???? I think it might come down temporarily. Maybe we have to make a new one? a better one? we have our fade tamagotchi fen'harel who happens to be the only fucker who knows how to make a veil too. Could this 'better veil' alleviate some of the problems Solas had with the old one? If there was like a set door way that allowed people and spirits to pass safely? One that didn't cause so much discord between spirits/people? Is our Veilguard a Fade TSA? I can dream. But who knows. Either way, I think we're only getting one endgame worldstate regarding the veil.
So; OK, back to Solas and how the fuck that could end. Harking back to that Varric/Solas conversation about the old man living alone. Solas is clearly speaking as though he is the old man, and he can't fathom just living a quiet life when there are literal world ending gods waiting for a weak moment to bust free. He Will not, Cannot stand by and do nothing while he knows his prison is failing. He HAS to at least deal with the 2 evanuris before tearing down the veil bc he doesn't want them to cause harm. He didn't want that before (hence locking them away) and he doesn't want it now, even for modern day Thedas (hence him helping Rook). He's got such a fucking heart under all that armor. He cares about people, he demonstrates it again and again. But my god what if, he finally *sees* that the veil may not have been a mistake, it doesn't need to be torn down, (maybe it has to be remade, better?or just altered?) and then us the protag, no longer has to kill him to stop him from tearing it down?
Like, I am very partial to the "what if love changes everything" trope especially for such a tragic character. Bc he's got death flags left and right; "I walk the dinanshiral" "there is only death on this journey" "this does not end in my downfall" his "dying alone" fear tombstone, and he's lonely he's miserable he's afraid. I'm so worried they'll kill him off anyway bc 'he was always doomed' trope and it would be easier to write, but motherfuck it would just, be SO so satisfying if, instead, there was a path where he wasn't doomed; whether it's bc of Rook or the Inquisitor or a combo of both. I feel like what if, either platonic or romantic; if there was just at least one path where love changes everything.
ofc this is massive amounts of copium and I don't expect bioware to give me anything so cool as "the veil starts to come down anyway and you, Rook, have to rebuild it with Solas' and the Inquisitor's help and at the end you can either kill him or convince him that this world is worth living in"
but hey, i can dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#dragon age#dragon age spoilers#da4 spoilers#da4 speculation#solas#like dont open unless you want a fuck ton of my ramblings on what could happen#when will i shut up about this??? probably not even after the game is out#and depending on what happens in the story i will either be elated or really fucking disappointed
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From Eden (Rowan’s Version)—
Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes
I tried a new style of writing, it's a bit more creative writing than normal so tell me if you like it!!
Ro's 1000 follower celly
Au Masterlist!!
"Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don't you agree? Babe, there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. Get closer to me?"
Quinn’s draft day had been nerve-racking up until the moment his name was called, relief filling his lungs as the Canuck’s general manager called his name.
Seventh overall, it was a great day to be Quinn Hughes.
As their gazes collided, he was abruptly enveloped in his mother's arms. Yet, the impression of Honey's stare lingered in the back of his mind.
Something about this moment mixed with the way his best friend stared at him with such pride and love had him foggy-brained as he hugged Luke and then Jack quickly.
He made his way through his family members, thanking them and hugging them for everything before he found himself placed in front of her. She stood so prettily in a blue long-sleeve dress that matched his tie, something that Ellen had orchestrated to make their day more special.
A soft blush adorned her cheeks as she chewed on the inside of her plump lips, uncertainty filled her as she searched for the perfect words but was met with a silent cry of happiness as he pulled her into his chest. It was the perfect moment in his eyes. Every important person in his life at his side and the girl he loved most whispered short affirmations of her pride in him into his ear.
In the tender hug that followed, a sigh of pure contentment escaped her lips as his face found comfort nestled in the crook of her neck. "I'm so proud of you, Q," she whispered. Quinn, overwhelmed by the weight of unspoken feelings, could only manage a subtle nod, his voice lost to the emotions building up within him.
Instead, he expressed his gratitude with a kiss pressed against her blushing cheek before slipping his jacket from his shoulders and gently draping it across hers—a silent testament to the warmth that existed not only in fabric but in the shared moments of vulnerability and pride.
Jack looked at her knowingly as she fixed the jacket that sat on her shoulders, his arm wrapping around her shoulder as they along with the rest of the Hughes family and friends watched the oldest walking up to the stage to shake hands with the members of the organization.
Loud cheers erupted through the arena as he slipped the blue and green jersey over his head and onto his frame. A smile found its place on his face as he looked to the photographer in front of him taking his photo before exiting the stage. But not before looking back at the crowd, finding his family, and giving his best friend a little wave before heading toward the media booths.
★★★★
"No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony. No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me."
Honey ran her fingers through her tangled wet hair, the salt water causing the ends to curl. In the radiant embrace of summer, Honey blossomed into a picture of beauty. Quinn thought she was the most beautiful thing to walk this earth.
His heart stammered in his chest as her fingers stopped playing with her hair and moved to his, her fingers fixing the mess of damp hair that sat atop his head. Breath got caught in his throat as her fingers stopped playing with his hair and moved down to fix the dainty gold chain that hung from his neck, a draft gift from Honey's family, that he had yet to take off since she put it on him in late June.
It was now August, meaning that decisions were being made, and Quinn was being pressed into either returning back for his sophomore year at Michigan or moving across the continent to British Columbia to fulfil his dreams.
Quinn found himself standing at a crossroads, where the lines of destiny branched into two possibilities. One path beckoned him toward the path of his future, whispering promises of a professional athletic career. The other held the allure of youth, freedom, and the silent melody of unspoken confessions that he had yet to complete.
Summer's gentle touch adorned her, the radiance of her smile, lingered for mere seconds before a frown wove its way onto her expression. "Have you made a decision yet, about school?" she whispered, the words carrying both curiosity and an awareness of the timing.
She understood that the weight of such a decision wasn't something he wished to face at this moment, yet the curiosity that danced in her eyes revealed the undeniable urge to be in the know.
"I think I'm gonna wait another year, they said it was up to me, and I just think another year would be better for me," he watched as she tried to contain the excitement that was clearly written on her face. "Makes sense," she said in a sad attempt at being straight-faced, which he immediately read through as her grin got the best of her.
"Not that I don't want you to go fulfill your dreams, but I want you by my side for at least one more year, I'm selfish," she said repositioning herself so her head could rest against his shoulder, "I don't know what I would do without you Q" "You'll be just fine Hun, I'm never really gone, just a quick call away," he smiled as she moved momentarily to press a kiss to his sunburnt shoulder.
The awareness stayed in the space between them– Quinn would always be a simple phone call away from a decision that could alter the course of their lives. The potential of the forthcoming adult world loomed, yet there remained a precious promise of one more year. One more year to soak up the unbreakable bond that made them inseparable.
Honey and Quinn adopted a silent vow to make this final year, their sophomore year, an era of memories
★★★★
"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago, idealism sits in prison, and chivalry fell on its sword. Innocence died screaming, Honey, ask me I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door"
In the warmth of his dorm room, Quinn found himself mesmerized by the allure of Honey's kisses. Since the moment their lips first connected, an insatiable hunger had taken residence within him, fueled by her intoxicating adoration.
"I think I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words a tender murmur as Honey laid her head against his bare chest. Soft breaths escaped her lips, creating a gentle rhythm with the beat of their hearts. In the quiet intimacy of their entangled limbs and sheets, she smiled against his skin, a silent acknowledgment of the emotions that words could only begin to express.
Her fingers traced circles on his skin, and she sat up, her gaze meeting his with a soft intensity. "I know I'm in love with you," she declared, her words carrying the weight of certainty, she leaned in to press a less gentle, more passionate kiss to his chapped lips.
★★★★
"Babe, there's something wretched about this, something so precious about this. Where to begin? Babe, there's something broken about this, but I might be hoping about this. Oh, what a sin"
There was something so tragic about being in love with someone who lived so far away.
The ache of longing manifested in her final kiss, a sweet torment as tears welled in her eyes. She desired relief in his arms, her face buried in the curve of his neck as she mumbled about calling whenever he felt. "I swear Quinn, you call whenever you need to talk, even if you think it's something dumb wanna hear about it all," she mumbled as he smiled into the crown of her head. "Thank you, Hun," and with that her fingers gripped the soft cotton of his sweater, and his hands traced comforting patterns across her shoulder blade, a silent reassurance echoing through the tender touch, as they swayed back and forth.
With a heartfelt whisper, words of her adoration for him were followed by sad murmurs about how she would miss him. As he pulled away, the lingering warmth of his lips on her cheek, oblivious to his brothers' groans, left an unforgettable mark. "Thank you for everything Hun," he smiled a genuine expression of love on his face.
With one last squeeze, he began to make his rounds of goodbyes to his family, leaving Honey with a promise. "Go have a good rest of the semester, I'll see you in a few weeks, and then we have all summer together," he affirmed.
As he hugged his little brothers, Honey stood, both anchored and adrift, in the thought of their shared moments, eagerly awaiting the summer.
★★★★
"To the strand a picnic plan for you and me, a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree"
"Date night?" Quinn nodded to his brother as he stole a quilt from the hall closet and draped it over his arm, "You're so in love, it's unbecoming," the comment earned Jack a glare as Quinn shoved the blanket into a bag. "That's a really big word for you J," he poked back which gained a laugh from Jack. "I'm just saying, you are fulfilling your dreams and you get the girl, it sounds like it's gonna be your year," Jack teased, savouring the chance to poke fun at his older brother, but instead of pressing any more he left to go and bother Luke instead.
As Jack retreated, Quinn stood there, quilt in hand, fully aware that this was in fact his year.
Honey got his car, the engine humming with potential, a cooler bag of dinner nestled by her feet, as she leaned over the center console, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Where are we going?" "I don't know," Quinn admitted honestly, his eyes reflecting the spontaneity of the evening, "we could go to the park, or that little clearing outside of town."
His gaze lingered on the girl beside him, her hair woven into loose braids and the bridge of her nose adorned with freckles and a hint of sunburn.
The words "outside of town" escaped her lips like a secret shared between the couple, "It's more private," Honey's whisper hung in the air. Leaning in, she sealed the idea with a passionate kiss, leaving Quinn momentarily breathless.
Quinn, hand now on the wheel, felt a combination of excitement and dizziness. His other hand found its way to her thigh as they set forth on the road to the outskirts of Plymouth.
It was Quinn's year, and he was sooo in love.
★★★★
"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago. Idealism sits in prison, and chivalry fell on its sword. Innocence died screaming, Honey, ask me I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door"
In the quiet embrace of nostalgia, Quinn found himself lost in his old Instagram posts, scrolling through the old captured memories that he hadn't looked through in years. The images that appeared on the screen told tales of life, their life together. Each photo was a snapshot of a chapter he had lived alongside her and were the moments that had sculpted him into the person he would become today.
With baby Maeve cradled in his arms, a symbol of the present and the future, Quinn's heart warmed at the stark contrast between then and now. Fifteen years had woven into a prosperous life of experiences, and as he looked up from his phone, he saw the picture-perfect scene unfolding before him. His wife, snug on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and M&M's with their other two children as they watched old Disney movies
In this snapshot of domestic bliss, Quinn realized just how full of love his life had been. Quinn's heart swelled with an appreciation for the present— Honey and their babies were his everything, and in that quiet living room, surrounded by their shared history, Quinn cherished the beauty of his life.
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#thelittlesthughesau!!#⭐️ro's1000followercelly⭐️#quinn hughes#dad!quinn hughes#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes fic
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His Promises
Billy Loomis x Male! Reader
Cw - Male reader, Angst, memory loss, mentions of abandonment, mentions of fights, mentions of murder and deaths. Maybe it’s a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You were always left by people, but Billy promised you that he would remain by your side until the end. However, you expected him to break this promise, just like he did with the others, but it seems like he wants to keep this one.
Word count - 841
You were always very attached to the people close to you, always doing everything you could to make them happy and comfortable around you. However, no matter how hard you tried, those who were close to you left, one way or another, and so did the memories related to them.
Over the years you got used to this, living a normal life and enjoying those who were still close to you. Your expectations were never very high, always expecting people to leave without warning, abandoning you. However, there was one person you didn't want to go, and that was Billy Loomis.
The fact is that you and he were secretly dating, and for many years it was like that. When his mother left, you were there, supporting and helping him. However, he became more distant, lost in his own thoughts and feelings, leaving you lost for a while.
Billy has always been a complex boy, so it was a surprise when he asked you to marry him. You obviously accepted, saying you'd been in love with him since you were kids, but your heart squeezed when he told you it would have to be a secret. He told you that he was working on a plan, not exactly what it was or why. What's more, he told you that you'd have to pretend to date Sidney Prescott because it was part of the plan.
You blame yourself for accepting this, for agreeing to be his boyfriend in secret, for letting him maintain a fake relationship with Sidney. At school you had to see the girl and him together, something that made you bubble with anger and jealousy inside. Why did you let him? Honestly, you don't even know, maybe it was part of Billy's manipulation, or maybe you were blinded by love. Either way, you fell for the illusion that one day he would take you on, you let yourself be carried away by his sweet, loving words.
When the murders started you were terrified, thinking about Billy and how he must be at the moment. Fearing for his safety. In fact, you hardly slept at all for fear of having a killer on the loose.
When you arrived at school and saw him, it was like a wave of relief washed over you. Talking to him and his friends, feeling uncomfortable every time you saw Sidney around Billy. What's more, Stu's jokes related to the murders didn't lighten the mood, in fact, they made you even more worried.
During the period when the killings took place, you and Billy started arguing a lot, mainly because of jealousy. These fights didn't last long, but they were still stressful. But the worst fight was when he got out of jail, you wanted to know why he had gone to Prescott's house, which led to a disagreement. So, to calm you down, he promised to take you on and break up with her, leaving you happy and calm.
The day the party at Stu's house took place officially sealed the end of your relationship with Billy, a tragic end to a relationship that was supposed to be magical. You got there early, seeing some of your friends there, but no sign of the brown-haired boy. Without much to do, you sat down on the sofa and started listening to Randy's long explanation of horror movies.
You don't really remember what happened that night. In reality, it was a very traumatic event for you, so your brain just deleted some things from your memory. The deaths, the fights and the conversations have all been forgotten, it's as if they never even existed. Most of the things you know have been told to you. The only two things you remember from that night were when Billy revealed himself to be a ghostface and when he died, the rest is very fuzzy and even distorted.
However, something that your memory hasn't erased are Billy's promises and sweet words. The things he said to you in the moments when you were vulnerable around him, in the intimate moments you shared. He always promised to stay by your side until the end of the world. For a long time you tried to erase those memories.
No matter how hard you tried to forget him, he never went away. He was stuck in your memory like gum on the sole of a shoe, like a scar that never goes away. Many nights you found yourself thinking about him, even waking up and remembering dreaming about him.
In your dreams, the promises came true, lulling you to sleep. But he also haunted your nightmares, his lifeless face emerging from the shadows or a ghostface would appear and start hunting you down, shouting sweet promises and trying to trick you.
In the end, your biggest dream became your biggest nightmare. You wanted people to stay by your side, for them not to leave. But now, you just want him to go away and leave you alone, allowing you to finally be free…
Author’s note: I've had a creativity block and haven't found the motivation to write in recent months. I'm sorry for the absence, now I hope to return and post at least once a week. ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
#male reader#ftm reader#male reader insert#ftm!reader#male!reader#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis x you#scream x male reader#scream x reader#scream x ftm reader#billy loomis x male reader#billy loomis x ftm reader
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pmmm rebellion: the flower scene
*inhales*
i like pmmm rebellion. a lot. i'd go so far as to say it’s one of my favorite movies. but i've never liked the interpretation from some, of this scene. the flower scene. essentially, the idea is that homura was right in how madoka was "miserable" as a god. because madoka "agreed with her" in the flower scene.
as a baseline, i will say right off the bat that i think pmmm is a franchise where you can never fully escape tragedy. i think any ending to this story will be bittersweet, and there is a certain amount of sacrifice and misery inherent in its very concept.
that being said. i don't think madoka becoming a god was as tragic as homura makes it out to be. i don't think its just a hero sacrificing herself for the greater good. i think it's more. and i think this scene, as much as it is a conversation, is also an act of self-delusion.
this one-note interpretation of madoka as a tragic sacrifice (in how she herself feels) is ignoring... well. the context of the whole series. which homura herself is also ignoring. by which i mean, she was a quite the unreliable narrator in how she described the sacrifice / miracle madoka would go on to perform.
for the record, i think there is something both selfish and selfless to homura. i think she genuinely believes she is helping madoka. and i think homura thinks that's all she wants. this is not an attempt to slander her - but more about how i think she has an incomplete understanding of madoka, and what madoka wants in life.
basically, i'm not trying to argue here that madoka's sacrifice is just good "for the world." obviously, it is. we already know that. what i'm trying to argue is that i think it - in some ways - is also good for madoka herself. not in an uncomplicated way, but that its not all bad. that she gets something out of being this godlike being. at the very least, i think it is better for madoka than the world homura creates.
okay. so. flower scene. homura pretty vaguely just says “you’re going to be separated from everyone you love." which, on its own, is pretty sad. she mentions that there's something "only (madoka) can do". and that madoka, being selfless, would do this because she feels she has to. that it is a tragedy.
what homura doesn't mention is madoka becoming this godlike, conceptual being who is everywhere at all times. which is a pretty big fucking thing to leave out. homura might as well have said “you’re going to be separate from ME, and that’s going to make ME sad” for how honest she was about the context of the situation.
in short, homura is framing the situation as tragically as possible because she wants madoka to say what she wants to hear. she wants to be told that it was miserable. because homura was miserable.
essentially, what homura says will happen: you'll be away from everyone forever. it will accomplish ~something~, but i will not tell you what. it will make me very sad. please comfort me. (which madoka does, because of course. lest we forget part of what she says is she would never want to make someone as strong as homura sad.)
what actually happens: you will have the power to save every magical girl from suffering. you will become a conceptual god, which will remove you from your human life. but you will also be with every magical girl, always, and give them comfort. you will not only have your own agency, but make sure that the wishes of magical girls everywhere MATTER and don't end in despair. including your own. even when you would become a witch and despair, you will save yourself. and when i die, i will be with you as well.
i think by framing it this way, homura IS being honest about how it "felt" to her. but homura also misunderstands what madoka wants.
first of all, madoka's life as a regular human... well, i'm not going to say it was unhappy. but i think it was unfulfilled. i think madoka was an insecure girl without much sense of what she wanted in life. and it was also ignorant. ignorant of the pain of the world, of the suffering that other magical girls had gone through. it was privileged, but it was also, in this way, empty.
madoka’s self-actualization (in the series) has a lot to do with helplessness vs being able to make a difference. in short, she wants agency. what her wish does is give her that agency, which she trades for her life as a normal human.
what homura’s wish does is the reverse. it’s giving madoka her humanity back, but in return, she no longer has agency. she doesn’t get to do the self-actualization of becoming someone with the power to help others. she is, in that sense, suppressed.
so. like. yes, THAT “regular magical girl who knows zero context of her own character arc” version of madoka? of COURSE she doesn’t want to leave everyone behind. big duh. she isn’t told what it would accomplish (in any specific terms), she isnt aware of how it would create a version of herself with the power to change the world. nor is she acquainted with the non-magical girl version of her in the pmmm series, who had no agency at all until she chose to become a god.
in the series, that is not a moment of despair for madoka. that is when she finds hope. that is when she attains a world where she can give rest to all magical girls. and give herself a reason to fight. that hope and determination carries her, and she is with it forever.
it’s also worth noting, rebellion!madoka's not just saying it would make her sad. she is also doubting herself. she's saying she is far “too spineless” to do it. how she's this weak, helpless person who would never be able to leave people for a greater calling.
putting aside how she’s not really gone / at least exists in this abstract way - she is also demonstrating how she doesn't believe in herself. so even this "happy" magical girl version of madoka still has some of the helpless insecurity of her series counterpart. she may live a relatively peaceful life, but she is not fulfilled. she lacks the purpose, determination and hope of her series counterpart.
in other words, even this version of madoka needs to self-actualize. and part of her knows that. in homura's "happy" new realm, madoka "feels wrong." she seems shy and insecure. ill at ease. uncomfortable. like she's at the start of her arc, not the end. yet the godlike power within her refuses to be erased. it can only be held back. for now.
in a way, i see homura trapping madoka a bit like the symbolism of not letting someone grow up. sure, adulthood might not be as "simple and happy" as childhood, but it also gives you knowledge and agency in life. it allows you to learn & grow, understand the world as it is, make educated choices in who you want to be, and become that best version of yourself. THAT is what madoka is denied. that is how she feels wrong in this “happy” illusion realm that homura creates.
also. god madoka would definitely be a lot happier if she could be with homura in heaven and have the ability to save her lol.
but there's a problem with that, for homura. and that problem is, that would give madoka the agency in the situation, and leave homura the passive receiver of blessings. which is at odds with homura’s own desire for control. like madoka, she wants to not be helpless and have the ability to affect the story. after all, she did fail to stop madoka in the series. i think homura wants some of that agency, too. hence the imagery of her soul gem going from a pawn to a queen.
essentially, i see this as a conflict between two sides who want to be in charge of their own destinies. they've been stripped of their agency by the world, and they want to have it back - no matter what it would cost. this is what they have in common.
when homura refused to join madoka in "magical girl heaven", she was ultimately refusing happiness for the sake of agency. for the sake of being able to be "madoka's hero." that's what she always wanted to be, and failed to be in the original series.
tl;dr: there is something tragic in madoka's wish. for sure. but i think it gives madoka agency in the world, which she always wanted. i think being able to help others can be genuinely fulfilling for the individual, rather than just a sacrifice. it’s empowering, as much as it is the loss of old self. and i think homura wants to feel like that kind of hero, too - no matter what. they both do.
*exhales*
#pmmm#madoka kaname#homura akemi#madoka#puella magi madoka magica#not su /#long post /#for the record we all agree that in an ideal world none of this would fall on the shoulders of middle schoolers#but that’s not why these stories are written#in madoka as with any young anime protagonist it has as much to do with the world of being the burdened protagonist 14 yr olds want to see#and to the symbolic fears dangers and perils that come with being 14. learning about the world and shedding childhoods naïveté etc
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hozier lyrics, hozier (expanded edition)
❛ i should've worshipped them sooner. ❜
❛ we were born sick. ❜
❛ the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you. ❜
❛ i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜
❛ good god, let me give you my life. ❜
❛ there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin. ❜
❛ it's toying somewhere between love and abuse. ❜
❛ no more alone or myself i could be. ❜
❛ [i/you] lurched like a stray to the arms that were open. ❜
❛ i lay my heart down with the rest at [your/their] feet. ❜
❛ i wonder if it's better now having survived. ❜
❛ i'm so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ❜
❛ no better version of me i could pretend to be tonight. ❜
❛ [they/you] found me just in time. ❜
❛ cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt cause i never felt young. ❜
❛ it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometimes. ❜
❛ we tried the world and it wasn't for us. ❜
❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜
❛ would things be easier if there was a right way? ❜
❛ honey, there is no right way. ❜
❛ i fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new. ❜
❛ there's an art to life's distractions. ❜
❛ love with every stranger, the stranger the better. ❜
❛ all i've ever done is hide. ❜
❛ when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel ike a person for a moment of my life. ❜
❛ but you don't know what the hell you put me through. ❜
❛ it feels good to be alone with you. ❜
❛ there are questions i can't ask. ❜
❛ now, at last, the worst is over. ❜
❛ i know that you hate this place. ❜
❛ there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree? ❜
❛ there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. ❜
❛ innocence died screaming. ask me, i should know. ❜
❛ there's something broken about this but i might be hoping about this. ❜
❛ we'll lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand. so still and discreet. ❜
❛ i'd be home with you. ❜
❛ any way to distract and sedate. ❜
❛ i'm somewhere outside my life. i keep scratching but somehow i can't get in. ❜
❛ don't you stand there watching me, won't you? ❜
❛ don't you join in, you're supposed to drag me away from it. ❜
❛ i'm so full of love, i could barely eat. ❜
❛ [they/you] are sweet as can be. [they/you] give me toothaches just from kissing me. ❜
❛ no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to [them/you]. ❜
❛ you never asked me once about the wrong i did. ❜
❛ [you/they] would never fret none about what my hands and my body done. ❜
❛ if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have you and you would have me. ❜
❛ why were you digging? what did you bury? ❜
❛ i will not ask you where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜
❛ just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do. ❜
❛ i know that look, eyes always seeking. ❜
❛ i will not ask you why you were creeping. in some sad way, i already know. ❜
❛ you know better than to smile at me like that. ❜
❛ i know who i am when i'm alone. ❜
❛ you don't understand. you should never know how easy you are to need. ❜
❛ don't let me in with no intention to keep me. ❜
❛ it can't be unlearned. i've known the warmth of your doorways. ❜
❛ i'll find my way back to you. ❜
❛ my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs. ❜
❛ screaming the name of a foreigner's good is the purest expression of grief. ❜
❛ i feel no control of my body. i feel no safety in [your/their] arms. ❜
❛ all that i've been taught and every word i've got is foreign to me. ❜
❛ it looks ugly but it's clean. ❜
❛ your fight and fury is fiery. ❜
❛ it's worth it, it's divine. i have this some of the time. ❜
❛ you called my name til the fever broke. ❜
❛ i heard a scream in the woods somewhere. ❜
❛ i turned and ran to save a life i didn't have. ❜
❛ i need you to run to me. run to me! ❜
❛ when i was a child, i heard voices. some would sing and some would scream. ❜
❛ don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash. ❜
❛ you've done me wrong for a long, long time. ❜
❛ after all you've done, i never changed my mind. ❜
❛ please, try to love me. ❜
❛ my love will never die. ❜
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