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#either way it's about love
psalacanthea · 1 year
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was listening to the Disco Elysium soundtrack (video link to song) and thinking about Kirkwall, as one does.  1500 words, just a small thing about love.
...
“Hey.”
The call didn’t pull her from her staring across the city, eyes focused past the facade of Hightown.  Lights gleamed on the dark water, but they were pale reflections of the glow of Hightown, like the ocean revealed the truth of that fragile and bitter shell of respectability and power.  Her eyes weren’t there, but deeper, into a place where the darkness of the water swallowed any light, where crumbling cliffside walks and hollowed homes clung desperately to what remained in hope of survival.
The real heart of the city, where she’d lived when things were hopeful.
Down there it was poor and dirty, people living on the edge of starvation, but that was when her life had been happy.  Well, no.  Happier.  Varric wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her genuinely, only happy…while sober.
“What does it mean anymore?”
“I don’t know,” Varric said to Hawke, leaning up against the railing next to her.  
“Something has to plug this hole in me that seems to keep losing things drip by drip.  But I can’t seem to.  I feel so hollowed out.”
“You’re the one with all the platitudes.  Do you want me to pull them out?  Sometimes it can be good to hear things you already know, I’ve heard.”  He smiled, faintly, at the blank sidelong look she gave him.  “No.  Not me, huh?”
Her chin fell into her hand, and then she winced at the contact with the wound on her neck and jerked back.  The blood on her fingers didn’t gleam as she stared at them in the moonlight, it was dried, dark.  Old.  “Platitudes don’t work unless one of us believes in them.”
“I know what optimism is, at least.”
“I don’t,” she said, a quaver in her voice, a splinter of pain that hurt too much for her to feel the full truth right now.
“Sorry, Hawke.  One of us has to be the optimist, and I already called ‘not it’.”
She fell into silence, so they just watched the city and its lights for a while.  Lights that gleamed across the feet of the statues of slaves standing sentinel in the harbor, chained forever to the city that had slaughtered them.  The bridges, the pits, the quarries.  The statues.
“Weep,” the statues said to the refugees who had come here seeking hope.  “Weep, because your suffering has only begun.”
But her eyes weren’t on the statues.  They never were.  She said it was because they made her too angry, and bad things happened when she was angry.  Varric knew it was true.  She’d lost too much to not be a dangerous person, and with Bethany gone…
No, Hawke didn’t look at the statues, and she didn’t look at Hightown, or even its reflection in the water.  She looked at the dark places, the pits, the quarries.  The places where there were grooves in the roads to carry the blood of slaves.  The places where people still died for no reason.
No reason at all.
Hawke breathed in, reaching up and wiping dry eyes.  “She said I made her proud.  But that was bullshit.  Because I knew…I knew if she hadn’t died, in the next breath she would have turned around and made it my fault.  And– and now that she’s not here, that’s the only voice I hear.  The one blaming me.”
“Leandra was a complicated woman.  It’s hard.  Having a mother who can’t seem to give you what you need.”  Varric braced his hand against her lower back, and she leaned in towards him.
“Maker.  I know you’re not talking about your feelings because you’re incapable of it, but please don’t let this be a metaphor, either.”
There it was.
The spark, the little light that never seemed to go out.  The grace of humor.  Who could live in Kirkwall without it?  This whole place was just one of the Maker’s funny little jokes, after all.  But, well…she was right.
“Sorry.  It’s a metaphor.”
“Shit, Varric.”
They laughed together, bitter and sweet, staring down at the city that seemed to go on forever, deeper and deeper into the desecrated earth.  It should have been rotten to the core.  But it wasn’t.
There were people down there who were living, despite it all.
To spite it all.
“Love is…complicated.  Or so they tell me.  Especially love for our parents.”
“It’s like I can’t think about her without resenting her, and that’s not what I want for my memory.  That’s not what I want for my life.”
“Give it time.  It’ll get better.”
“Ah,” she said quietly, voice holding a rasp of weariness.  “Platitudes.  But no.  Love is…love isn’t complicated at all, Varric.”
“No?”
Hawke shook her head, eyes finally shifting, gazing slowly across the cliff face in the distance, higher and higher.  “No. It’s everything else.  I wanted to be– be a dam.”
“A damn what?”
Hawke smiled reluctantly.  “A damn hero.  I wanted to be the one to hold back the tide, but I’m…”
“Full of holes?” he guessed.
“Full of holes,” she agreed, chin dropping, eyes falling.  “And the things that escape only ever seem to hurt the people I care about, and I– is it worth it?  To lose everything to keep this place from being washed out into the sea?  Is it worth it?  Should I let them drown?”
They both fell silent as he tried to think of what to say.  His instincts said no, but was that for her, or for him?  He never knew.  Usually, his instincts led him in that direction, and that was fine, it was smart, but…that wasn’t good enough.
Not for Hawke.
“It is,” she said to herself, and to him.  “And you have to promise to believe it, for me.  I know it goes against…against who you are, and what you care about.  I know.  You look to your people first, and damn the world, but…I just can’t do it, Varric.  If you really are my friend, you’ll do it for me.  Believe it when I can’t, that this is all worth it.”
“Well, I am a pretty good liar,” he acknowledged, not really comfortable with what she was asking of him.  “You can’t badger people into belief, Hawke, trust me.  It doesn’t end well.”
And she knew that, because she gave him a sidelong smile that held a shadow of the wicked mischief that would crop up at the worst possible time.  “You believe in things beyond your friends.  You just don’t want to.  But you’ll do this for me.  Because if I’m gone–”
“Come on, stop it,” he interrupted her, discomfort growing worse.  Unconsciously, his fingers tightened, holding onto the back of her shirt.
“Because if I’m gone, I know you’ll protect them for me.  And you’ll love them.  Because love…love is the easy part, Varric.”  She didn’t wipe her eyes this time, and they stayed dry apart from a single tear that gathered in the corner and never fell.  Her eyes were back on the city, the edge of a smile on her lips.  “It’s everything else that’s hard.”
It brought up things he didn’t want to think about, not here.  Not now.  She was already going through so much, and it wasn’t like his life was ever going to get unknotted, so…what was the point?  It wasn’t about him.
It was about her.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
“And miss the soiree at Lord What’s-His-Face’s?”  she asked with playful sarcasm.  Her voice lowered, bitterness creeping back in.  “Yeah.  I want to get the hell out of here.”
He pulled back and extended his hand to her, and she took it, pushing away from the railing.  Leading her out of Hightown and back to the pits and quarries, they walked side by side with the ocean crashing below, a darkness that swallowed the lights of Lowtown.  Back into the darkness; home.
In the distance, above it all, centuries-old statues of weeping slaves heralded the fate of those who dared to live and love in Kirkwall.  Pain, suffering, death.  Why had he ever thought they could escape that fate?  Why had he ever thought she could?
But even if he wanted to condemn the damn place for everything it had done to her, everything it had taken…
He couldn’t.
It was his fault, not the city; that was what had betrayed her in the end.  He’d done everything in his power to save her, to keep the world from consuming her whole, but he couldn’t do it.  In the end, it had him.  When their eyes had met for just a moment at the end, he hadn’t seen blame, or regret, or pain and suffering.  
Only love.
And so he took her burden onto his shoulders and went home to try and find a way to save her city.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  The place was rotten to the core and cleaning it up would take more than his lifetime, but damned if Varric wasn’t going to try.  Because he loved her, and she loved Kirkwall.  And Kirkwall...loved her.
He could take care of the rest.
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jameszmaguire · 8 months
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I think it would be better for everyone if I were to be left alone in the future. Don't you?
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ministarfruit · 3 months
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day 15: haunting ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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triona-tribblescore · 2 months
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TW// Abuse implication
Thinking about possible Vox and Angel's interactions and how they'd go down. Theres such a unique mix of hatred to each other and common ground with their different experiences with Valentino, has me thinking.
Also just want to clarify I love Vox's character a LOT but ofc obv don't sympathise with him or think he is any way shape or form a decent individual, cant with stupid toxic dumbass x
AND IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES OR TYPOS NO YOU DONT- (i was so tired when drawing it forgive me TwT)
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chaos-bringer-13 · 1 month
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I've seen a lot of people writing Danny as a space ancient and Dan and Dani as ghosts with moon and sun cores, being sort of parts, versions of Danny and therefore weaker. Now, consider: Dan and Dani are both powerful ghosts with really cool cores and stuff but Danny is just some guy™
Dan, who came from an alternate timeline and is kind of from the future but also not, is Clockwork's apprentice and will eventually become an ancient of time. He probably only agreed to have some lessons with Clockwork to understand better what happened to him, but he enjoys his apprenticeship now.
Dani, with her love of travelling, loves seeing all the different places the world offers to her, and that includes space and different planets and maybe even parallel universes, and she accidentally ends up being an apprentice of the space ancient. For now she's probably a baby ancient of freedom or something like that, but she might become an ancient of space in the future.
We can also have something like Dan having a core of destruction or Dani being the Speed Force if you want it to be dcxdp, or any headcanon of yours about their cool powers.
And then there's Danny. And yeah, everyone knows that he's super powerful, but also he's just some guy.
It can go different routes. Does everyone know that Danny is just Danny? Or do they think that with siblings (well, technically a clone and an alternate version, but whatever) so powerful, he must be even stronger? Is Danny actually something terrifyingly eldritch and ancient and strong, almost a god, but he just doesn't know himself? Or is he just really some guy?
Now, because it's obvious that I have a dcxdp brainrot, have a regular "JL summons/meets a powerful ghost" but its Dan and Dani, and they keep mentioning their original/brother who won a fight against them at some point. The JL is very concerned about Dan and Dani's godlike powers, and they can't imagine what Danny is like. And then they meet him (in his human form), and it's just a young adult in casual clothes, very friendly and helpful, with no evident powers. Imagine the confusion. Imagine Dan and Dani, radiating power, in their eldritch ghost forms, admitting that fighting Danny for real is the dumbest thing to do and not even they would succeed... And then there's Danny is jeans and silly t-shirt, waving shyly.
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somnimagus · 6 months
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
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brother-emperors · 9 months
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something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.
it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.
and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.
on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.
edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.
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Perseus, Daniel Ogden
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Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet
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pumpkinrootbeer · 3 months
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last two episodes like
Charlie made a deal with Alastor VINEBOOM Alastor verbally confirmed asexual in the show VINEBOOM Vaggie has wings VINEBOOM Alastor could see himself getting attached to all of them VINEBOOM Vox is hard for Alastor??? Vineboom??? Pentious kissed then died VINEBOOM Lucifer is here VINEBOOM Alastor is missing VINEBOOM Adam is dead VINEBOOM Vox is still abnormal about Alastor VINEBOOM Alastor is back and desperate to get out of his deal VINEBOOM PENTIOUS GOT REDEEMED AND LILITH IS IN HEAVEN VINEBOOM VINEBOOM VINEBOOM
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buggachat · 5 months
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(random s5 finale musings) tbh I don't think Marinette chose to keep The Secrets™ from Adrien because Gabriel asked her to. I feel like Marinette keeping secrets like that is so consistent with her character; she hates giving people bad news, she hates rocking the boat, she hates upsetting people, she always chooses to keep any 'controversial' information to herself for as long as she can get away with (examples: bubbler scarf, telling Queen Bee she was benched, confessing to Adrien, warning Chat Noir about Scarabella or Rena Furtive, never told Chat Noir about Chat Blanc, etc) that I just totally believe she would've done it either way. She was even already having nightmares about Adrien hating her for finding out she defeated his father, so I feel like Gabriel's request was moreso giving her a go-ahead than it was a primary deciding factor, yknow?
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portiascottgriffith · 11 months
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sometimes a girl is actually a bunch of girls. and thats ok. all of her is awesome. shes multiple girls. a wom&n, if you will
this post is about being a system (but i dont mind if you reblog it about something else). also its inclusive of all system origins
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londoneh · 1 month
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Goofy lookin’ clock.
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*❤️‍🔥*
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knifearo · 9 months
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i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a binary i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a sliding scale of "less" to "more" i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the only two options i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as significantly different things i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as all encompassing i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the two halves of a shallow concept of love that doesn't actually encompass anything at all i think we need to overhaul every popular conception about "types" of love so we can talk about things that are real and true for once
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grandwretch · 3 months
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i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out
steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.
eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.
cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.
he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.
like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.
and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.
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r0semultiverse · 8 months
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Hey um I'm concerned...
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"Is this true, fellow Petrikov?"
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Something something about the cycle repeating. 👀
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kaereth · 10 months
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married!! married ;v;
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noisyghost · 24 days
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just put a bandaid on it
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