#the worst part is I don't know what happened

[thedanishcatgirl]

The idea that their timid, little, shy, book loving, wizard had a wife was weird enough, but that wasn't the most surprising part. No, that was the fact, that the massive woman stepping through the selfmade entrance, whom presumably must be the aforementioned wife, was a tall fearsome looking fey. Her antlers where sharp, her body looked to be made of blackened branches covered in deadly looking thorns and her furious eyes glowed a fiery red like her hair.

Through the ringing in his ear the bard could faintly hear their wizard calling out to her wife.

"Careful darling we don't want the cage to fall down into the acid!"

The fay woman's only answer was a terrifying growl, but there was no more explosions. Not like that was needed anyway, since the floor was torn up, and massive thorny vines where rapidly growing out from the floor choking any still alive. She quickly walked over to them, took a hold of their cage, and swiftly yanked it free from the chain, then stomped out of the castle with their cage dangling from her hand. As they where carried away he saw the castle was quickly being overgrown with the vines, and he knew for certain that soon all that would be left was a crumbling ruin. This was gonna make one epic song.

Too terrified to speak he decided to shift his focus onto his party. Their wizard was looking concered up at her wife. Their sorcerer had passed out from either his injuries, or their terrifying rescurer. Their rouge was looking a bit too impressed, but then again, she was always addicted to danger. And their ever confident paladin, looked to be locked in a state of shock. He tried to get her to snap out of it, but she was completely unresponsive, so he tried his best to hum a little tune and heal their sorcerer. It wasn’t much, he was afterall not their main healer and not on his a game, but it was enough to get their sorcerer up. He was groggy and clearly still rough, but as soon as he noticed their surroundings, and who held their cage he panicked. Luckily he was out of spells, which rendered him pretty harmless, and a quick calm emotions stopped the worst of it.

"What is happening, where are we and who is THAT?!"

"Calm down she rescued us. Remember wizard said she messaged her wife to come save us? Well here she is I think she decided easiest way to get us all to a safer place was keeping us in the cage."

But their sorcerer just looked confused at him. Perhaps he hadn't fully registered the conversation before, which was certainly a possibility considering he was very hurt. That would mean he had no idea the woman who attacked the castle, and now held their cage was an ally, making this terrifying experience all the more scary. Worst of all their sorcerer was practically a teenager, and the easiest scared of their group, and this had been bad enough to leave their fearless paladin shocked. So he did what he had done so many nights and comforted their sorcerer.

"Shh it's all right we are safe she won't hurt us"

"It doesn't make sense, this isn't right, what are you talking about, wizard can't be married to an archfey, why would someone so powerful care about small insignificant mortals"

Archfey? Fuck he knew she was clearly powerful, but he hadn't realised just how much. But at soon as sorcerer said it, he knew it was true. Maybe paladin knew and at that was why she was so terrified. He didn't know much about archfey other than legends and songs, and those where always about how dangerous and fickle they where. How in all the hells did wizard get to call one her wife?

After a little bit they entered an ancient looking forest, and finally their wizard decided to speak.

"Sweetie, don't you think it's about time you put us down? We are in our forest now, nothing can hurt us here. We would all really love to get out of this stupid cage, and I definitely owe my friends some explanations. They can't really appreciate the beauty of our home like this, and I would hate their first impressions of it being bad."

Gently she sets the cage down, and shrinks to a still tall, but slightly more manageable, size.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I WARNED YOU NOT TO GET OVER YOUR HEAD! You know I love you and support your little adventuring hobby, but you are so fragile, and I wish I could follow you, but my duties prevent that which means I can't protect you, and I hate that!"

Slowly their wizard limped over to her wife, seemingly not concerned at all about the thorns. Unfortunately that exposed just how badly injured she was, which her wife clearly only noticed now.

"HOW DARE THEY HURT YOU LIKE THAT! They did not deserve to die so mercifully!" It was followed by more curses in a language he didn't understand, but the intent was clear as day. The party was too preoccupied with trying not to think about what she considered doing, if that, was merciful in her eyes. It didn't matter what they had done to them, he was pretty sure those screams would haunt all their dreams, as long as they lived.

The wizard didn't look to be the least bit fazed, instead she gently caressed her furious wife, deftly avoiding the thorns.

"Shh it's all right darling, I'm safe now." She said followed by more reassurances, in what he suspected was the same language her wife had cursed in.

As the woman calmed down, they saw her body literally transform along with her mood. Slowly the fire in her hair diminished until it looked more like branches, her eyes changed into a piercing green, her wooden body became brown, the thorns receded and now she was just slightly taller than them. But while it was clear she was calmer now, that fire seemed to be just under the surface, like a forest that had just been ravaged by fire, and only needed a little spark to send it ablaze again.

"Why didn't you message me sooner?" She almost pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I thought we could escape on our own, and didn't want to worry you unless absolutely necessary." He can't help but notice the tears in her eyes. "Also kinda hoped that when I did introduce them to you, it would be a bit less terrifying." She adds with a tiny sliver of humour in her voice.

"Hmm I forgive you my foolish little flower." She says, as she touches her forehead to their wizard's. Apprapo flowers, he noticed that her hair has sprouted leaves and even a few flowers, and her body was being covered by moss and lichen. Hopefully that meant her mood has approved significantly.

Looking at their party he concluded that their sorcerer was hiding behind their rouge, who was trying their best to make him feel protected, and their paladin was still completely out of it, which it seemed their wizard had finally registered, but then again it was probably fair, that she had been to preoccupied with her wife.

"Darling do you think you could help her?" She asked to which her wife responded by gently touching her finger to their paladin and casting, what he recognised as a much stronger calm emotions than his. She wisely took a few steps back letting wizard stand in front as paladin slowly became more aware of her surroundings.

"Hey look at me we are safe now, there is nothing to worry about. There is no danger anymore I promise you."

"But but, that's, they they, danger I can't, I can't protect, I'm, I'm not even, He, you don't"

It was clear that while she was definitely calmer now, she was still very scared, which surprised him, because with the power of an archfey, she could easily have completely overpowered her fear. But perhaps she wasn't gonna just completely charm her wife's friend, which surely was a good sign.

"Shh shh it's alright, I know you're scared, I know you're all scared and we understand that. What just happened was very scary, and I know the reputation archfey have, but please just trust me when I say, that none of us are in any danger."

"You just say that because she has charmed you!" Sorcerer bravely answers.

"I don't think so," you counter. "Why not just charm all of us, or at least charm paladin, which she clearly didn't, since she is still scared. Why be so concerned with wizards safety, and so quick to forgive? I must admit I have no clue how in the hells it happened, but they clearly love each other very much, and she has been nothing but helpful, so I believe wizard when she says we are safe."

At that wizard smiles, clearly pleased she managed to convince someone.

"Maybe we could at least give them a chance. It's not like we have any way of escaping if she is messing with us," rouge tentatively says.

Sorcerer doesn't say anything, but at least he wasn't complaining or actively freaking out, witch admittedly was a pretty low bar, but considering the day they have had, was gonna have to be good enough.

Paladin looked to be very unsure, but maybe it was the calm emotions, maybe her desire to believe her friend, or maybe she was just too exhausted to do anything but listen.

"Well this is my wife Sevanonna. We have been together for almost 20 years, and I love her with all my heart, but despite all my books and her amazing company, I started to go a little stir crazy a while ago, and really missed adventuring, so after a lot of convincing and safety measures, like this ring I used to communicate with her, I left our home and soon found you guys." As soon as she stopped her nervous rant, her wife took over.

"Like you mortals say, if you love someone you let it go, and if they love you they will come back. Not that I ever worried that was the reason she wouldn't return."

"How in the hells did a shy timid little bookworm like you, snag someone so fiercely powerful?" asked rouge, voicing the question he had been too scared to ask.

"Oh she stumbled into my domain on accident in her ever growing search for knowledge, and she was just so sweet and kind and adorable, I couldn't find it within myself to punish her. I was curious and lonely, so we made a very simple deal. I would help her with gaining knowledge, if she would keep me company. As fun as messing with mortals can be, it doesn't keep me entertained for very long, and I don't particularly care for the company of my fellow archfey. We couldn't help but fall for each other, and by now that deal has been null and void for a very long time."

As she spoke, she looked at their wizard with such strong fondness it was impossible not to believe, and he already knew once he had pressed wizard for some more details, he was gonna create the most beautiful love ballad the world had ever seen out of this.

It seemed sorcerer and paladin had decided to very tentatively trust their story as well, or maybe just given up. Afterall they knew rouge was right. They didn't really have a choice.

"Well then show us to your home then. I'm dying to see what kind of fantastical place you live in, if this forest is anything to go by!" He decided to say as a way of lightning their spirits. Rouge ended up carrying sorcerer, who was too weak to do anything but curl up in her, thankfully deceptively strong, arms. And he supported paladin as they walked, to the best of his abilities. Sevanonna seemed to understand, that although she could definitely simply carry them all, it was better to not intervene.

Later that night, or perhaps it was technically the next day, he wasn't sure and didn't really care, he found himself alone with paladin. For while he wasn't the least bit surprised by sorcerer and rouge, palsdin's actions seemed wholly out of character, and he was determined to find out why.

"Hey you all right there?" Paladin turned to look at him with a panicked look for half a second, until it seemed like she remembered who he was. She must have been lost in her mind again.

"I'm, I'm fine." She said with a hint of her usual confidence, although it was clear she definitely wasn't.

"I know you are usually the one who does this, but if you wanna talk about it, I promise to lend an ear and not tell anyone." She looked like she was considering it. "Everyone needs someone to lean on, once in a while. You don't have to be our strong confident leader all the time. I'm pretty sure you would say something like that, if you where me." That last part at least managed to produce a tiny snort.

"I... my mother she, she made a deal with an archfey a long time ago. But she was tricked and understemated the price. She ... it took my youngest sister and when she tried to stop that she," at this point paladin broke down sobbing. He tried his best not to loose it at the sound that felt so wrong coming from her, and decided to rub circles on her back like she usually did. When that didn't help, he decided to stop being her and just do what he was best at, which was performing. So he summoned his dulcimer and started playing a comforting tune, and trying to do his best to put some sort of bardic magic into it.

"I was about the age of sorcerer, and suddenly I was the oldest in our little family. I had to be the responsible one, I had to protect us. That is why I devoted myself to my god, to make sure no chaotic or evil forces would ever mess with those I loved ever again. But not even the gods could stop them from deciding to start their own lives, once they got older. They moved on, and I didn't really fit into their lives anymore. I tried to devote myself even more, and create my own life too. And when I found you it felt like I had a family I could protect again. But I failed." And with that she collapsed and starting sobbing even harder than before. What she said made sense. She definitely was the mother of their group, not just because of her age, and a fiercely protective one at that. That was clearly something she had in common with their wizard's wife. And with that kind of tragic backstory, who could blame her. He could also see why she must have panicked like that when a threatening archfey suddenly appeared, and why she felt like she had failed in protecting them. She couldn't risk trusting that this wasn't some elaborate trick. He probably couldn't do anything about that, but he couldn't let her believe they saw her as a failure.

"No. You have not failed us. We are all still together, surely that counts for something? I can promise you if it wasn't for you, we would have all destroyed each other, or at the very least left. You have always been our glue, whether it was settling differences, or patching us up. You protected us all during that fight, and is the only reason sorcerer isn't dead now. But we are all adults here, or mostly, and you don't have to protect us all the time. Let us protect you too. We are a team, and that means we all have each other's backs. We are all here, we are safe, or at the very least not in active danger, we can rest and recover now, and afterwards we can talk about ensuring it doesn't get so bad again. But we are all alive, and if you hadn't been here, things would have gone so much worse, so cut yourself some slack alright?

"Hmm" was all he got from her before she fell asleep. It was good that she had relaxed enough to get some rest, he just had to hope she had heard his words, and taken them to heart.

An adventuring party is in a cage suspended over acid the wizard clears his throat "I just sent a message to my wife she should be here to save us soon." "Wait your married?" Said the rouge "more importantly what is she gonna." The paladin is interrupted by a massive explosion.

[03jyh23]

༘⋆mon's 500 followers special.ᐟ.ᐟ 500-word prompt roulette⟢

☕️┆more than just coffee

kim hongjoong x gn! reader

│synopsis: the one where hongjoong finally makes a move

│genre: fluff

│trigger warnings: none

│roulette prompt 4 + hongjoong

You were sprawled across the sofa in Hongjoong's studio. Being his best friend meant regular visits to his studio were mandatory - especially when armed with his favorite iced coffee. Though if anyone asked you, the coffee was just a bonus - you were the real gift, a fact you never failed to remind him whenever he pretended to be annoyed by your surprise appearances.

"...and the deadline is in two days! TWO DAYS! How am I supposed to finish this track when the company keeps changing their mind about the direction?" Hongjoong ran his fingers through his blue hair, sprawling on his chair.

You watched him with a small smile playing on your lips, finding his passionate rant endearing. His dedication to his work was one of the things you admired most about him.

Mid-rant, he caught your expression and stopped abruptly. "What?" he asks as your smile only widens, making him suddenly self-conscious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

You smile. "You're just really cute when you talk."

Hongjoong's face flushes a deep red, and he quickly spins his chair back to face his computer screen. "I-I'm not cute," he mutters, but you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "And stop distracting me, I need to work."

You got up from the sofa. "Alright, if you really want me to go..." you tease as you take your bag.

Hongjoong's head snaps up immediately, his eyes widening. "Wait, no - I didn't mean..." He trails off, looking torn between his work and not wanting you to leave. "Just... stay a bit longer? Please?"

"Only if you'll agree that you are cute," you say as you come close to him, ruffling his blue fringe. It always surprised you how he maintained his hair so soft while bleaching it at least twice a month. He takes your wrist, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want you thinking I'm cute," he almost whispers, tone suddenly serious as the atmosphere changes. "Y/N... do you really see me only as your cute friend?"

Your heart skips a beat at his question, at the intensity in his gaze as he still holds your wrist. The playful atmosphere from moments ago has shifted into something charged with unspoken feelings. You open your mouth to answer, but the words catch in your throat.

"What do you mean?" you ask softly, though your racing heart tells you that you know exactly what he means.

Hongjoong's grip on your wrist loosens, but he doesn't let go. His thumb traces small circles on your skin, "I mean... when you look at me, when you come here with coffee and make me laugh even on my worst days, when you stay despite my workaholic tendencies... what do you feel?"

You let out an awkward laugh, the sound coming out more like a puff of air than anything else. Your heart is thundering in your chest.

"I..." you start, trying to find the right words while fighting the urge to deflect with humor like you usually do. Your palms are sweaty, and you're terrified of ruining years of friendship with what you might say next. "I come here because..." you pause, swallowing hard. "Because I like being around you, you’re my best friend..." The last part comes out barely above a whisper, and you can't quite meet his eyes.

Hongjoong's hands tighten slightly around your wrist, and you can feel him tense at your words. "Best friend," he repeats, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Fuck it," he mutters, rising from his chair abruptly. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you closer, leaving barely any space between you. His eyes flicker to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "Maybe this will change your mind," he whispers, and before you can process what's happening, he closes the remaining distance.

His lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, soft and hesitant at first, as if he's giving you a chance to pull away. But when you respond by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, he deepens the kiss, one hand moving to cup your face while the other wraps around your waist.

You pull back, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. "Well," you say with a nervous laugh, "I don't remember this being in the friendship contract. Did we miss a clause somewhere?"

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, giving you a light push. "Really? That's what you're going with right now?" He drops back into his chair, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout. "Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you make dad jokes."

"It's part of my charm," you say, but your voice wavers slightly, still affected by the kiss.

"You're impossible," he mutters, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile.

"I like you too," you blurt out suddenly, making Hongjoong freeze. "And not just as a friend. I... I've liked you for a while now."

His eyes light up, a genuine smile breaking across his face. "Yeah?" he asks softly, reaching for your hand.

"Yeah," you confirm, intertwining your fingers with his. "Though I have to warn you, the coffee deliveries might get more expensive now that we're dating."

Hongjoong's eyebrows shoot up, and he gives you an incredulous look. "Oh, so we're dating now? Just like that?" He leans back in his chair with an amused smirk. "I don't remember being asked on a proper date yet. The audacity!"

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "Are you saying you want me to woo you, Kim Hongjoong?"

"I'm just saying," he says with an exaggerated sniff, "that a person of my caliber deserves at least a proper dinner invitation before being claimed as someone's boyfriend."

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes fondly. "Kim Hongjoong, would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe somewhere that serves better coffee than what I bring you?"

His face breaks into that bright smile you love so much. "Now was that so hard?" he teases, pulling you closer. "And for the record, no coffee tastes better than the ones you bring me."

You pull him into another kiss, softer this time, filled with all the unspoken feelings you've held back for so long. When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his, both of you wearing matching grins. "So, about that date..." you start, but Hongjoong's already reaching for his coat.

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[bloodstainedsapphic]

becoming ellie williams' personal nurse was absolutely not part of your grand plan. in fact, being ellie williams’ anything hadn’t crossed your mind until an unexpected run-in left you the only one available to patch her up after a rough patrol. you’d spoken fewer than ten times before that, but after that night, ellie unilaterally decided you were the only person allowed to help her when she got injured. you didn’t fuss as much as maria, or dina, or anyone else—and that was enough for her. or at least, that’s what she claimed. it certainly didn’t hurt that you were cute.

that's how you found yourself falling into a routine—ellie 'just happening' to show up at your door, flashing those worn green eyes and grumbling about how "it's not that bad" to garner enough pity until you inevitably caved and fixed her up, sparing her yet another lecture from maria.

tonight was no different. she lingered outside, shifting her weight like she was debating whether to knock. but since this had become clockwork, you were already pulling the door open, and she shuffled inside uttering a, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you sighed, already moving to nab your ever-growing stash of first-aid supplies as she dropped into your desk chair. ellie had tried to clean herself up beforehand, but it was fruitless—her green jacket, the one now being hastily shrugged off, had been covering the worst of it. a deep gash on her arm, the lingering traces of a nosebleed, fresh cuts along her cheek. she’d been through hell and back.

"ellie," your voice carried a warning as you approached, reaching out to cautiously inspect her wounded arm. "this isn't just some scrape." ellie exhaled sharply through her nose, taking the accosting while settling in the chair she'd visited many times already. "it's nothing. i don't want maria finding out and pulling me off patrols."

your lips pressed into a thin line, but you didn't protest further. you knew how much patrol meant to her—how she needed it. how ellie seemed to rely on it to feel like she provided something useful to jackson. so instead, you got to work, gently cleaning the cuts along her forearm. ellie winced as the antiseptic hit raw skin, her fingers twitching against her thigh. unfortunately, the cut had grazed her tatted arm. you made a valiant effort to be delicate enough to mend the cut without disturbing the tattoo—luckily, it had missed the chemical burn ellie said she'd gotten on that arm years ago.

"oh, stop whining," you chided over her complaints. "shouldn't you be used to the pain by now? little masochist. and what's with you aiming for this poor arm so much? you've got two to work with, you know.” ellie scoffed at your chastizing, biting the inside of her cheek as her expression shifted to annoyance but not full offense. "right, lemme plan my injuries better next time."

you dabbed at a shallow abrasion beneath her cheekbone. ellie's eyes flickered up, trying to capture yours, but you wouldn't budge from the injury. she bit her crimson-stained lip, like she was weighing her next words wisely. "you keep patching me up, though. makes me wonder... i mean, i dunno..." ellie stilted her delivery, partly out of nerves, partly to grab your attention. "maybe you like seein' me all banged up," her tone took on a pitchy lilt as she kept peeking up at you.

the way she said it—less of a tease, a tad second-guessing, trying to dare a reaction out of you—made your stomach do something stupid.

"a better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you shot back, deliberately avoiding her gaze while keeping with the 'strict nurse' facade. you couldn't suppress a hint of a smirk though, briefly wiping your mouth to try and shield the small break over her nervous attempt at flirting. you just hated how right she was—no one was forcing you to do this, to put up with her maddening stubbornness and save her hide time and time again. all ellie had to do was bat those ridiculously pretty greens, and your defenses crumbled.

ellie huffed, pleased with your accidental admission but now more determined to coax more from you. she shifted slightly—and that's when you felt it. the light press of her fingers against the dip of your waist, like she had just meant to steady herself but forgot to pull away. her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine. you said nothing, pretending not to notice. maybe she hadn't even meant to. you'd both insist, later, it was simply the sting of the antiseptic anyway, as if she hadn't weathered worse injuries before. neither of you moved.

ellie couldn't disguise her beaming when your strict charade allowed the gesture. she swallowed, like she was trying to decide whether to try her luck. her fingers tapped your side, hesitant.

“i think you're helping me all the time 'cause you've got a soft spot for me."

your breath hitched, warmth creeping up your neck, but you weren't about to let her win that easily. with a little head shake, you willfully regained your composure and lightly patted ellie's uninjured cheek before schooling your expression. "hush. you're being disorderly. i can't fix you up with all this blabbering."

ellie let out an exaggerated hiss, scrunching her eyes shut dramatically. your stomach clenched in brief panic, helper mode reigniting—until you realized she was full of shit, twisting her head like she'd been mortally wounded when, in reality, you had barely touched her.

"you're impossible," you muttered, smacking her good arm lightly in playful retaliation. "your life is in my hands. don't forget that." ellie leaned forward just enough to close the space between you, her voice dropping. "yeah, yeah, and every time i show up like this, i'm choosing to put my trust in you."

she wavered briefly, then added, softer still—only brave enough to say it now because she was already committed to the bit—"and that’s also why you won’t look at me."

you froze, and the second you met her gaze, it was over—long lashes framing those round green eyes, a smattering of freckles, some loose auburn strands that had escaped her barely-held-together bun sticking to her skin from the leftover sweat of patrol. with scraped skin and blood-streaked face, ellie was a proper mess—and yet, here you were, fighting every aching urge screaming at you to throw yourself on top of her.

you swallowed hard. the unassuming, bashful, loserish ellie was nowhere to be found. replaced by an ellie probably still riding the adrenaline of her close call with a horde of infected earlier, caring a little less about the consequences of her words and even further fueled by your easily cracked stoicism.

ellie seized your defeated, flustered silence to keep going. "also, as my nurse, i'm surprised you don't know the best cure for any injury."

you inhaled to brace for whatever nonsense was about to come out of her mouth. "oh, yeah? what's that?"

".....a kiss."

a drawn-out groan escaped you. "jesus," you muttered, cheeks burning. but fine—just this once. you weren't giving in completely, but you leaned in, pressing a fleeting peck to the tip of her nose.

the way ellie's face immediately split into a stupidly giddy grin was almost worth it. almost. her whole expression flushed a rosy pink, too.

"oh, on the nose? that barely counts," ellie teased, her voice dipping into something softer, more expectant. definitely hoping she hadn’t pushed her luck too much.

"deal with it, williams," you murmured, but your mind was already betraying you.

despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would be like if you really gave in. if you disregarded all medical safety and climbed into her lap and kissed her senseless, letting your hands explore each other in desperation and recklessly savoring the taste of metallic red left on her soft lips.

snapping yourself from that less-than-holy thought, you deflected under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for another small cut you had overlooked.

when you came back, ellie was still watching you, something unreadable in her expression. you hesitated for a moment, then finally gave her a little glimmer of hope to cling to.

"tell you what," you started. "don't be an idiot—which i know is hard for you—and let everything heal," you let the jab sit for a second to build suspense, "and i’ll grant you the other half of that kiss."

ellie's smile widened triumphantly, though her posture was beginning to laze as exhaustion from the day's chaos caught up with her.

"anything for the nurse."

"yeah, yeah. now hold still so i can finish fixing you up."

and, for once, ellie williams actually listened. pic creds @/elliesgalaxy

[daturablossomsblog]

When people new to DA say things like "I didn't play any of the previous games before I played Veilguard" that's fine, but to then turn around and say "well, because Veilguard says [lore thing] that means everything in the previous games is false" makes you look willfully ignorant at best and [redacted] at worst. Veilguard did not do a good job with three games of established lore. New players apparently came out of datv not knowing what a Circle is, for crying out loud???

People who wanted to see the Veil removed have a basis for the belief that it might usher in a new age for Thedas that could ultimately make things better for elves, mages, and spirits. Or at least change the world in an interesting, exciting way. That basis was given to us by the first three games. For example:

Flemeth

"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment . . . and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly." (DA2)

PC: "Why did Mythal come to you?"

Flemeth: "For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens."

Morrigan: "And you follow her whims? Do you even know what she truly is?"

Flemeth: "You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end? It is because I taught you, girl, because things happened that were never meant to happen. She was betrayed as I was betrayed--as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" (DAI)

Sandal's Prophecy

"One day the magic will come back, all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see." (DA2)

Cole

"The Veil isn’t real. It’s false, fake, fabricated to forbid. Isn’t it wonderful?"

"Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you.

Cole: Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Solas: Yes, exactly. Deliberately crossing the Veil requires that a spirit form will, personality.

Solas: That concept of self gives a spirit the chance to maintain its nature.

Solas: Wrenched into this world unwillingly by the rifts, spirits suffer the same fate as my friend.

Cole: Then we will help them." (DAI)

Morrigan

"Change is coming to the world. Many fear chance and will fight it with every fiber of their being. But sometimes change is what they need most. Sometimes change is what sets them free." (DAO: Witch Hunt)

"Mankind blunders through this world, crushing what it does not understand: elves, dragons, magic . . . the list is endless. We must stem the tide, or be left with nothing more than the mundane. This I know to be true." (DAI)

I haven't even touched on what Solas says, due to his bias/the way some people refuse to consider his insight at all, even though he knows the most about the Veil of any character in the series ever. For obvious reasons.

Due to the above evidence, I completely agree that the Veil coming down would probably be catastrophic to some degree. I disagree that it would have "destroyed the world" or "drowned [it] in demons" as Veilguard loves to repeat over and over, mostly from characters like Varric who don't know jack about the Veil, magic, or spirits. And I disagree that people who wanted to see what would happen if the Veil came down are wrong or misguided--they obviously just paid better attention to what the overarching narrative than some. It isn't their fault that this more interesting and dynamic narrative was retconned to shreds and buried in the backyard.

[thesetwoutes]

Okay, it is time for us to learn WHY CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT IS RARE AND HARD IN THE UNITED STATES AND THIS BILL IS SIGNALLING, RATHER THAN A HARBINGER OF DOOM, by your friendly neighborhood law professor (me)!

Here's the short version:

The United States has a written constitution, unlike, say, the United Kingdom. The United States is also a creation that required the approval of thirteen sovereign legislatures that didn't trust one another and were jealous of their rights. The document reflects the fact that these folks wanted to be sure that what they agreed to in 1789 couldn't be changed on a momentary whim.

(I weighed not using a read more here but decided I don't hate you that much.)

So the amendment process for the United States Constitution is one of the hardest in the world, with extremely high hurdles that have lots of opportunities for the process to falter. This is sometimes bad (no affirmative right to vote, no clear textual statement of equal rights) and sometimes good (no requirement to balance the budget, no statement of the Christian nature of the state). Article V lays out the process.

"The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose Amendments to this Constitution, or, on the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments, which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by the Congress; Provided that no Amendment which may be made prior to the Year One thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any Manner affect the first and fourth Clauses in the Ninth Section of the first Article; and that no State, without its Consent, shall be deprived of its equal Suffrage in the Senate."

So let's start with this: "The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary." This means that the first step in the constitutional amendment process is for two thirds of both houses of Congress to agree to the same amendment. In the House, that's 290; in the Senate, it's 67. Right now the Republican caucuses are H218, S52 (there are a few vacancies from folks who were elected to Congress and then nominated to serve in the administration). So for the amendment to clear the first hurdle, it would need 72 Democratic House members and 15 Democratic senators to agree to it; while I'll grant that there is a world where that could happen, you cannot convince me that it is this one.

Now let's talk about this: "on the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments." On its face this might look a bit nerve-wracking; two thirds of states is 34, and 28 states have unified Republican control of the legislature. They don't need much, right?!

Well, it's not that simple. See, what constitutes an "application" under this clause is going to be determined by state law. Some states might allow the legislature to proceed on its own; others might require the governor to assent in the same way they would to a bill becoming law. And we don't know how that rule aligns with unified Republican control. In the best case scenario for Republicans, they would need ten Democratically-controlled chambers to agree to apply for a convention (the Democratic Houses in Minnesota and Pennsylvania along with their Republican-controlled Senates, the officially-nonpartisan-but-actually-Republican unicameral legislature of Nebraska, and eight chambers in four states with unified Democratic control). In the worst case for them, they still need those ten legislative chambers but also need a minimum of seven Democratic governors (in Arizona, Kansas, Kentucky, Minnesota, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin) to sign off on the convention. So the states calling for a constitutional convention to get Trump a third term seems... Unlikely.

The other obstacle to a constitutional convention is that it's not entirely clear that anyone wants to go that route. The problem is that the Constitution itself is the product of an amending convention that went beyond its brief. Everyone looks at everyone else and goes, okay, but what if YOU'RE running the convention? How do I know you won't ram through a bunch of stuff that I'll hate? So again, I can see a world where Republicans are arrogant enough to think they can control a constitutional convention, but I'm not convinced that the world where they THINK they can control it and the world where they ACTUALLY can control it is this one.

But wait, there's more! Any proposed amendment that successfully commands 2/3 of both chambers of Congress or successfully is recommended by a constitutional convention must then be ratified: "which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by the Congress."

What this means is that even if 72 Democratic House members and 15 Democratic senators bow down to Trump the God-King, that you still have to convince -checks notes- eighteen Democratically-controlled legislative chambers to do the same, plus potentially a whole bunch of Democratic governors (the seven listed before plus any four others in Democratic trifectas).

Now, it is not impossible that these things could all align; we could see a wave of political violence and assassinations, there could be a titanic shift in public opinion that makes Democratic lawmakers think that the people want Trump the God-King, Elon could start openly bribing folks, etc. But the conditions that would allow this amendment to be validly enacted are such that we would have so many other problems that this wouldn't register.

Now, you may be wondering, what if they just do it, not following the Article V process, and the courts let them get away with it? That I would rate as a slightly higher probability than a sudden wave of assassinations, but judges (other than Sam Alito) want at least to be able to pretend they're following the law, even if it is an insane and tortured reading of it. There's simply NO reading of Article V that allows for the Constitution to be amended in the absence of a remarkably broad elite consensus (elite here referring to the fact that there's no mechanism for a plebiscite or referendum to amend the constitution, the only participants in the process are public officials of various stripes).

So, why is Andy Ogles proposing an amendment that he knows can't be enacted to make Trump the God-King?

This essay is already far, far too long, so I'll just point out that lawmakers propose laws that they want to see enacted but they know are doomed to fail all the time. They even propose things that they don't want, if they think it will put their opponents in a tough spot. There's lots of reasons to do this. Among them, of course, is the one that is relevant to Andy Ogles: he's an idiot who couldn't participate meaningfully in a policy conversation even if the policy in question was "paper or plastic?"

Anyway, I hope that reading to the end of this novella made you better informed and less scared. There's plenty of bad shit going down; we don't have to worry about stuff that isn't real.

Source

Transcript:

“BREAKING: A constitutional amendment has been filed allowing President Trump to seek a 3rd term in office.

"No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than three times, nor be elected to any additional term after being elected to two consecutive terms, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice."

It was filed by Congressman Andy Ogles (R-TN).

Don’t let this slip by unnoticed. This is not just “one extra term”, it’s a warning shot. It’s a red flag. It’s an omen.

They are slowly turning up the heat in the pan. Do not be the frog who sits denying it’s getting hotter.

One extra term will become two, two will become three, and three will eventually give way to lifelong reign of each president.

Fight. Fight for God’s sake.

Contact your local representative of congress. Convince them we do not want this.

We are going to end up in a dictatorship.

@ikiyou

Please help spread this. I don’t usually get political and I don’t usually ask for assistance but this is important and you have more reach.

[melercies]

pairing(s): nam-gyu x (gender-neutral) reader headcanons (squid game + post-squid game)

warning(s): dark/toxic relationship dynamics, including manipulation, gaslighting, possessiveness, emotional/psychological abuse, violence, obsessive behaviors, power struggles, mature/suggestive themes in some parts, death (nam-gyu + reader separately), drug/alcohol mentioned, my best interpretation of the character and lowercase use intended.

author's note: i decided to write some relationship headcanons when it comes to nam-gyu specifically. i will eventually write for thanos too, but at the moment, this guy is rotting in my brain. <//3 please let me know if i missed anything! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated!

when it comes to nam-gyu, his idea of love is driven by his deep need for some sort of validation. if he feels that you're not paying enough attention to him, he might resort to making subtle gestures, lingering touches here and there or making you feel guilty for not putting him first.

your eyes gaze onto his figure, noticing the sudden shift in his demeanor. he was practically sulking and was slightly distant, trying to get you to notice him again, whether being more charming or taking actions that demand attention. "how can you be so cold to me? after everything i've done for you?"

for nam-gyu, love isn't about mutual respect or a deep emotional connection. it's about ownership. he wants to feel like he has you, body and soul. it makes him see love as some sort of possession, not someting fluid or free. you are his, and he makes sure you know it. clearly, he enjoys the power struggles in the relationship, pushing you to your limits just to see and test if you'll stay with him.

nam-gyu would never admit it, but he has a deep insecurity within him that drives for his actions where he is terrified of being abandoned, of not being enough. under all that exterior of his, there's a childlike need for affection and approval. the problem is that this vulnerability of his is masked by his pride and narcissim, making him push you away even if he desperately needs you.

sometimes when you call him out on his behavior, he'll twist your words, making you question yourself. he has his ways of making you feel guilty, even when he's the one in the wrong.

the dormitory was dim, the faint hum of distant murmurs filling the tense air. you sit on the cold floor, arms wrapped around your knees, trying to process what just happened. nam-gyu crouches in front of you, hands on his thighs, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk. "c'mon, you're really giving me the silent treatment?"

you glance up at him, jaw tight. "you didn't have to do that." your voice shakes with frustration. "that guy wasn't a threat. you didn't have to—"

"oh, so now i'm the bad guy?" he scoffs, rolling his eyes before leaning in, his hands settling on your shoulders. his grip was firm, gentle enough to seem affectionate in a way, but strong enough to remind you who's in control. "i did what i had to do. he was looking at you like he had a chance. what was i supposed to do? let him think you were up for grabs?"

you shake your head, trying to pull away, but he holds you still. "that's not what this is about, nam-gyu! you—"

"shhh," he coos, pressing a finger to your lips. "you're overthinking again, sweetheart. i know it's scary in here, but i'm looking out for you. you know i wouldn't let anything happen to you, right?" his tone is soothing, almost sweet—like he's comforting you. like he didn't just break a man's fingers for daring to talk to you.

you hate how your resolve starts to crack.

he leans closer, his forehead almost touching yours. "you trust me, don't you?" his voice drops, low and coaxing. "i only do this because i care about you. you'd rather be with some nobody who can't even protect you?"

the worst part? some twisted part of you believed him. he cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek as his lips ghost over your ear. "just stick with me. i'll get us out of here. you don't have to worry about anything—i'll do the hard part." the weight of his words felt like they were pressing down on you like a collar around your throat. and just like that, he wins. again.

nam-gyu makes it clear from the start: you stick with him, and he'll keep you alive. but it's not out of pure love—it's about ownership. his protection feels suffocating, but in a skeptical place like this, it's certainly better than being alone.

he'll steal extra food if he can, but he won't always share. if he does, it's usually because he's in a good mood, but pretends to not act as if he doesn't care—or because he likes seeing you beg for it. it was ridiculous.

"fine, fine. here, open your mouth," he teases, pressing a piece of stale bread to your lips. "see how generous i am?" if you hesitate, he tuts, shoving it into your mouth himself. "what, you don't trust me?"

the sleeping quarters are chaos, but nam-gyu always makes sure you're curled up besides him. sometimes, he keeps an arm around your waist to make sure you don't wander and let himself know that your presence is still by his side. especially within these fucked-up kid games.

when he suspects or catches someone else getting a bit too close to you, it doesn't end well for them unfortunately. a fellow player offers to help you? oh, no problem. nam-gyu makes it a personal mission for himself to make sure they don't make it through the next game or their life a living hell. he doesn't even try to hide it.

"told you not to talk to just anyone. guess they didn't listen." he spoke, shrugging, your eyes stare at him in disbelief after he had killed them.

nam-gyu practically lives for the moments where he can get under your skin—physically and emotionally. he loves watching every of your reactions, the way you try to act unaffected when he's so close, touching you just enough to leave you aching for more. no matter how many times you try to push your mind off of him.

whispers of alliances, occasional scuffle, and the ever-present tension of survival was all there was, but none of that mattered right now. not with the way nam-gyu had you backed against the cold metal bunk, his hands braced on either side of you.

"thought you were gonna sleep without saying goodnight?" he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. his eyes gleam under the dim lighting, filled with something dark, something..hungry.

you huff, trying to push past him, but he doesn't budge. instead, he presses closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. "tsk. rude," he drawls. "after everything i've done for you? keeping you safe, feeding you...and you won't even give me a little gratitude?"

you glare at him, but your resolves wavers when his fingers brush against your hip—just barely, just enough to make your eyes glance down and breath hitch. his smirk deepens, that teasing little shit. he knows.

"what's wrong?" he coos, tilting his head. "nervous?" his hand slides lower, skimming the waistband of your uniform, teasing and testing as he watches your face for any reactions. you swallow hard, glancing at the other players—most of them asleep, others too wrapped up in their own survival to even care. still, the risk sends a thrill up your spine.

nam-gyu notices. he thrives on it.

his lips brush against your jaw—so light, so fleeting it almost doesn't happen. then, just as you start to lean in, he pulls back with a quiet chuckle. your eyes widening slightly by him retracting. "get some sleep," he whispers, his thumb tracing slow circles against your hip before finally stepping away. "you'll need your energy for tomorrow." and just like that, he's gone—leaving you breathless, flustered, and completely at his mercy.

usually it doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes, rare quiet moments during lights out happen with nam-gyu. nam-gyu lets his guard down. just slightly. "when we get out of here," he whispers, "we'll start over. just you and me. no one else." he says it like it's a dream—one you both know probably won't come true unless luck is on both your sides.

if you make it out alive, but he doesn't? whether he went out protecting you or because of his own recklessness, his final words haunt you. maybe it was him trying to act tough, a cocky smirk on his lips or maybe, in his last moments, he was soft—gripping your hand weakly and whispering, "you better win. don't make this all for nothing." the light in his eyes slowly dying down as your grip on his hand tightens, refusing to leave his side as the pink guards come by to place his body into one of those black-and-pink coffins.

no matter how he treated you, a part of you aches knowing you made it and he didn't. even if you tell yourself it was for the best, you can still hear his voice lingering in your head—taunting, possessive, maybe even affectionate in his own twisted way.

you'd flinch at familiar smirks. you turn when you hear someone laugh like him. sometimes you swear you can hear his voice when you're alone, murmuring, "miss me, babe?"

if you were the winner, you can't just enjoy it. not without thinking about him—about what he would've done with it. would he have taken you away somewhere? spent it recklessly? it doesn't matter. because now, you'll never know.

a jacket, a ring, something small that he always had on him. you don't even realize why you keep it at first. but one night, holding to your chest or staring at the item, you would find yourself admitting quietly: i miss you.

if nam-gyu makes it out alive, but you don't? denial. that's what he feels at first, he doesn't believe it as they announce the player numbers that have been eliminated. he waits for you to show up. even after the game is over, he expects to turn a corner or see you amongst the crowd of remaining players and see you. however, when reality finally sinks in, it's not pretty.

if he witnesses your death in front of him, he fucking snaps. whether it's screaming your name, lunging at whoever caused it, or making a promise right then and there—"i'll kill every single one of you fucking—" he does not go quietly.

if he's the last one standing, the prize feels...empty. he'll still blow it on reckless things—clubs, alcohol, drugs—but none of it fills the hollow ache in his chest. every victory tastes like ash without you there to enjoy it with him.

you were the one thing that kept him (somewhat) grounded. without you, he spirals. he's quick to throw punches, to lash out at anyone who reminds him even slightly of you. it's easier to be angry than to feel the loss.

no matter how self-destructive he gets, there's one thing of yours he keeps—an article of clothing, some accessory of yours, maybe even a stupid joke/line you used to say. sometimes, when he's sure that no one's looking, he presses the item to his lips and mutters, "you should've been here."

late at night, after too many drinks or he's so high from overpowering drugs, he would lean back against his seat and mutter, "what, no snarky comeback? you'd be rolling your eyes at me right now." then, silence. and for the first time, he hates it.

[bktempted]

You should really head home - the rational part of your brain knows this - but desperation makes us do strange things, and you really need to finish this paper before morning. The University library at midnight is a labyrinth of shadows, rows of books stretching endlessly like the ribs of some ancient beast. You're hunched over your laptop, its harsh glow the only island of light in this sea of darkness.

That's when you feel it again. That crawling sensation up your spine, like someone trailing their finger along each vertebra. You've felt it before, in your room at night, in the campus coffee shop - moments when the world feels slightly off kilter, as if reality has shifted two degrees to the left.

You turn, hoping it's nothing. Instead, you see him.

That boy from your study group. That boy with his soft sweaters and softer smile. That boy who always seems to have a spare charger when your laptop dies. He doesn't seem like just a boy now, as he stands in shadows that cling to him like loving tendrils, his familiar features transformed by the darkness into something beautiful and terrible.

"You shouldn't be here alone so late," he says, and his voice - his voice is different. Lower, richer, dripping with something that makes your chest tight. "It's dangerous for a girl like you."

You clutch your laptop closer, as if it could shield you from the intensity radiating from him. "I had work to do," you manage, hating how your voice trembles. "Plus, what's the worst that could happen?"

Your words hang in the air like a freshly struck match, one that he's going to snuff out. He takes a step closer, the air between you is thick, charged with unspoken intentions. The space shrinks until you're breathing the same air.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathes, each syllable brushes against your skin like velvet wrapped around steel. "You're so naive. That's why I have to watch over you, make sure you don't get yourself hurt. The things that could happen to you…" His voice trails off, fingers reaching up to catch a strand of your hair, rolling it between his fingers, memorizing its texture. "You didn't give me a choice."

And suddenly, horrifyingly, you realize. All those moments when you felt watched. It wasn't just a feeling. It was him. "What do you want?" you whisper, though something deep in your bones already knows.

"More." He laughs - it's soft, almost tender, but entirely wrong. "I've learned everything about you," he breathes, he's even closer now. "And it's still not enough. It'll never be enough."

His fingers brush your cheek, and you can't tell if you're trembling from fear or something else entirely. The touch is gentle, reverent even, but there's possession in it - ownership in the way his thumb traces your lower lip, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Horror blooms in your chest, but it's tangled with something else, something that makes you hate yourself a little. Because despite everything, there's a part of you that recognizes this for what it is: devotion in its deepest, most absolute form.

The library seems to pulse around you, the shadows growing longer, hungrier. His eyes reflect nothing. They're black holes that need to consume everything you are.

"Don't be scared." he murmurs, as his other hand finds your waist, steady and sure. The heat of his palm bleeds through your clothes, marking you. "Let me show you." He starts to tug at your skirt. "Let me show you just how well I know you."

Your heart is pounding so hard it might burst, but you can't move. It's not fear rooting you to this spot - it's desire. You're disgusted with yourself, but the heat from his body spreads through your veins leaving you dizzy with need. The line between right and wrong blurs, it's irrelevant.

He offers you your final out, one last challenge, "Tell me to stop. Say the word and I'll let you go." You say nothing. He knows you wouldn't. He keeps going. Hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the contours of your stomach, circling your naval, dipping lower. It's familiar, he knows what he's doing - he learned from you.

He guides you backwards, towards a secluded corner between the shelves. He turns you around, and bends you over, pressing your chest to the cool surface of a table. It's all happening so fast; you barely have time to process. His erection is hard against your ass. "I'm going to fuck you the way you've always wanted."

You nod, in stunned silence. He pushes your skirt up and your panties to the side, and then he's inside you, filling you in one smooth thrust. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden stretch, and the pleasure behind it.

Fuck. He's a perfect fit.

He sets a brutal pace, and the rational part of your brains screams at you to fight; to do something - anything - but it's drowned out by the overwhelming tide of sensation. By the dark thrill of being taken like this, used like this, by someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

He hits that spot inside you, that secret spot that only you know about, that you reach for with your favorite toys when you're in your room all alone, when no one's watching. "Yes," you gasp, the word torn from your throat. "Yes, yes, yes." A prayer. A plea. An admission of how much you want this, even if it terrifies you.

He leans over you then, his chest pressed against your back, "I told you." His voice is perforated by each thrust "Like you've always wanted." His words are invasive, and they only make you more desperate for him. Because he's right. God, he's so fucking right.

"It's time to cum. You want to cum, don't you?" You don't have a chance to answer because he's hitting that spot again, over and over, while his fingers work magic on your clit. It's too much. Too fucking much. You're cumming, you're shattering, you're breaking for him. The sounds you make are embarrassing, animalistic, but you can't control them. Moans, whines, broken sobs of pleasure all absorbed and recorded by the books that surround you. In that moment, you learned something new about yourself. Something only he could teach you.

[often-daydreaming]

Second Chances

"Danny!?"

"Danny!"

"Hey, hey, hey."

"Keep your eyes open for me."

"Come on Danny."

"Just focus on me."

"..."

"I promise everything will be alright."

The last thing Danny ever sees before everything goes black is the tears in his herald's ey...

-_- -_- -_-

"No!"

"Not again!"

-_- -_- -_-

"I can't... I can't lose him."

"Not like this."

"..."

"..."

"Say something! Anything!"

"Tell me how to fix this!"

"..."

-_- -_- -_-

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

-_- -_- -_-

"There's nothing you can do."

"You can let me do this! Let me take your place!"

"If you die here hundreds of thousands of lives will be changed forever. You'll never time travel. You'll never meet your friends."

"I don't c-" "You'll never meet me."

"I can make it work. I've time traveled before, rewritten fixed points."

"Not those times. Not one line."

"But..." Bart looks so lost as he desperately tries to figure out a plan but they were running out of time.

The handful of remaining heroes were scattered. They'd ignored all of the warnings, believed the worst kind of people and the League wasn't prepared for Pariah's reawakening to empower the moonlit world. No one was prepared for it, not when the monsters were already deep within the League pulling the strings from within and... This was… Without any warning Bart collapses, the nth metal bracelet he's always kept wrapped around his wrist sending a cold chill through his body as the familiar touch of Danny's magic engulfed the area.

"It's okay." Danny catches him before he can hit the floor, pulling him into one last bone crushing hug to hide his own tears. "It's not over for you. Clockwork... Clockwork promised everything would work out if I did this... He guaranteed it and he rarely gives me a straight answer so... So we'll... I guess we'll see each other again. You've got a whole new life ahead of you. The Justice League. The team. You and me."

"Even if I'm not the same person a part of me will always be there to watch you run." The bracelet glows softly with his promises, the runes that had protected him for years binding them together with his words and then Danny was shoving him back leaving Bart less than a fraction of a second to try and reach out for him before his entire world is swallowed by shadows and he's falling.

Bart Allen would live.

He'd have as many second chances as Danny could spare since Earth 63 was lost.

The moonlit world had decimated it, turning friends and family against each other but even now the Infinity Realms rumbled a challenging call. Their herald was gone for now but the king would fight, and continue fighting to the bitter end while Bart... Bart would... He'd...

"Time out."

Staring down at the young herald Clockwork smiled a little half smile as the ripple effects of their actions were already taking effect.

It might be a little different then he'd intended and he'd certainly bent a few rules in order to ensure his preferred outcome but the Ancient of Time was confident things would work out for the better.

"Now let's see if we can get it right this time."

It's nothing much but a part of an idea I had for Bart and Danny trying to survive/fix the DC vs. Vampire universe.

Danny's trying.

Bart keeps trying to reset everything but it isn't working. He changes a few things but nowhere near enough to stop what's going to happen until Clockwork finally steps in with a playbook that might work.

I don't know what it is with me always imagining the two of them traveling around apocalyptic worlds but Danny is Danny so he can't be turned into a vampire while Bart is his herald, he's essentially Danny's Fright Knight with an anti magic nth metal bracelet and a whole lot of blessings so he doesn't end up like the rest of his family.

[olderthannetfic]

Saw this person being sad that A fans were unwilling to talk to them, and basically said that A fans were close minded. As an A fan, I know that some of us are super extreme so I thought "Hey, I can make this person's experience better" and went to check their blog. Mistake. Their blog is like:

Post about why A sucks

Post about liking both A and B… but explaining that B is actually better than A

Post about why they enjoy making A suffer in fics

Post about liking AC in the past until the fans annoyed them too much

Post about why B deserves the love A is enjoying in fandom instead

BC ship post... with a dig at AC

Post about why A doesn't deserve forgiveness or fandom love

Post about how A's trauma isn't a good reason to sympathize with them because they did genuinely awful things due to trauma

Post about how A and B have similar trauma but B came out being a decent person (their trauma level is not the fucking same btw. B has a relatively realistic shitty life. A's backstory would sound cartoonishly angsty if I didn't know that it was based on a true story.)

Like wow... Nobody wants to interact with you? Why would they do that? That's crazy... *Block*

--

Heh. Someone I know was mad at me for saying that Tumblr was a good place for conversation instead of the usual oldschool LJ party line of Tumblr being the worst 5eva. They were like "People send you asks!!!" in that "You're popular and that just happened for no reason and you don't understand the little people" kind of way that is always so infuriating. I hadn't reblogged them either, boo hoo.

The funny part was that they had a different name here, so while I did remember seeing that screen name, I hadn't known it was someone I knew. I'd probably have paid more attention if I had!

And then I looked at what they'd said while reblogging me and at their tumblr in general, and it was all zero-to-sixty rage monster rants on posts where that made no sense and was not that appropriate. You know: newbies asking a question in good faith, but the answer involves things that make us mad. The prior answers had explained the facts but not spent too much time venting over how much such-and-such sucks, so my friend found it deeply necessary to add all that anger back in.

I'm not in the habit of reblogging things that are not only offputting but repetitive and boring. Of fucking course they weren't getting interactions from timid randos who don't know them!

Granted, this all went down much closer to lockdown, and a lot of us weren't doing well, so I get why they were a rage monster, but... people don't like talking to rage monsters. Sorry?

A lot of people have a hard time accepting that the problem might just be them themselves.

[itsnesss]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | after being temporarily assigned to share a room with minho, you navigate the awkwardness of the situation, only to discover a softer side of him when he’s vulnerable in his sleep

warnings | fluff, mild swearing, slight tension, vulnerability depicted

word count | 1.3 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the door closing behind you echoed in the dimly lit room. You exhaled in frustration and dropped your bag to the floor, rubbing your temples. This day couldn't have been worse.

First, your professor had changed the deadline for your essay, giving you less time to finish it. Then, you had forgotten your jacket at the cafeteria, and by the time you went back for it, it was gone. And now… now you had to deal with this.

Sharing a room with Minho.

The worst part? It wasn’t even a mistake.

The girls’ dorms were completely full, and the only option the principal had given you was to temporarily share Minho’s room until another space opened up.

Temporarily.

Yeah, right. As if KISS was known for being efficient with their solutions.

You sighed and looked around. The room was in perfect order—too neat, actually. Minho’s bed was meticulously arranged, not a single object out of place. As if he didn’t even live here.

Except he did.

And soon, you would too.

"Perfect," you muttered to yourself, throwing yourself onto the couch on the other side of the room.

At least Minho wasn’t here.

That meant peace.

But, of course, the peace didn’t last.

Because just as you closed your eyes, the door swung open.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"

You rolled your eyes before opening them.

There he was. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at you with sheer horror—like you were an intruder in his private castle.

"Nice welcome, Minho," you said sarcastically, not moving from the couch.

"You didn’t answer my question."

"Oh, sorry. Should I stand up and bow before I do?"

Minho rolled his eyes and stepped inside, dropping his bag on the desk.

"You're still not answering me."

You sighed and sat up slowly.

"The principal assigned me this room… for now. There’s no space in the girls’ dorms."

Minho blinked.

"No."

"It’s not like I had a choice."

"You *should* have said no."

"Oh, sure. As if I had another option."

Minho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"This cannot be happening."

"Trust me, I feel the same way."

Silence settled between you.

The rain pattered gently against the window, and for a moment, it almost seemed like neither of you knew what to say.

Finally, Minho shook his head and muttered, "What a disaster."

"I agree."

"You can't sleep in my bed."

"I wouldn’t even if it were the last option on the planet."

He frowned.

"Then where are you supposed to sleep?"

"The couch."

Minho was silent for a moment, evaluating you.

Then, with a nonchalant shrug, he walked over to his side of the room.

"Fine. As long as you don’t make noise or touch my stuff, I’ll survive."

"Oh my God, what a huge sacrifice you’re making."

"I know. I’m practically a martyr."

You rolled your eyes and settled onto the couch, closing your eyes. At least you’d get to sleep peacefully.

Or so you thought.

Because hours later, you woke up to a sound you didn’t expect.

A shiver.

Not in the room.

In Minho’s breathing.

You blinked in the darkness. You couldn’t see much, but you could make out his silhouette in bed. His back was slightly hunched, as if he was curled up on himself.

And then you heard it.

A barely audible whisper.

A whimper.

Was he… shaking?

You sat up slowly.

"Minho."

No response.

But as you leaned in a little closer, you noticed his breathing was unsteady.

You frowned.

"Hey."

Nothing.

Finally, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the blanket you had been using on the couch. You stood up, stepping close enough to drape it over him.

For a moment, Minho didn’t react.

Then, suddenly, his hand slipped out from under the blanket and caught your wrist.

You froze.

It wasn’t a strong grip.

It wasn’t rough.

But it was enough to make your heart stop for a second.

His skin was cold.

Much colder than it should be.

And then, in a sleepy, hoarse voice, Minho murmured,

"Stay."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

He didn’t respond.

Because in the next second, he was already asleep again.

You pressed your lips together, watching how his face—so relaxed now—contrasted with the usual arrogance he always displayed when awake.

He would never let you live this down if you mentioned it tomorrow.

But tonight, just for tonight…

You said nothing.

You just stayed.

[citrinae]

contents; angsty, hurt/comfort

modern au! sanji whose voice is smooth as silk and clear as a bell as he calls you on what happens to be one of the worst days of your life. reluctantly you keep the conversation going, battling the urge to burst into tears at the familiarity—the awkward rustle of his clothes, the low quiver coming from his throat as he tries to check on you. but he knows you well enough to figure you're not sounding like your usual self; no matter how many times you will assure him of the opposite. he hangs up shortly. the room is quiet again.

when you hear the first knock at your door you are already sunk into your sheets. you hope they will go away, but they don't. there's a sigh. a beat later you're watching yourself reaching for the peephole, dishevelled in bathrobe and sweatpants. this is when your breathing stops. the door almost unlocks by itself, and sanji comes in, blue polo shirt, black jeans, two paper bags in his hands. he flicks the unlit cigarette from one corner of his mouth to another, “evening flower, can you please show me to the kitchen?” 

plunge into his arms or shove him away; you’re too shocked to do either. “isn’t it a bit too late to have dinner?” you ask as you help him set the groceries he’s brought on the counter. it’s almost midnight. with his foot sanji pushes past a bundle of bags from the takeout food you've had for the last couple of days. “everybody needs their nutrients. and you need them. even if it’s for the smile i love so much to see,” he says, scanning the room for the stuff he needs—a lot has changed since the last time he was here. you recognise the tone—this type of cheesiness used to annoy you. soon after, there’s water droning, dishes propelling themselves against each other, and the sink is clear.

you clutch at his shirt.

“thank you, sanji,” the words come out slow. “you’re always so kind.” not cheesy, not pathetic. but kind. sanji places a hand on top of yours—warm, slightly trembling. a tinge of pink crosses his cheeks and nose. “some habits are hard to break,” he says. “like coming over for dinner.” some small part left of your old self wants to slap him. to bite, to spit, to be a hurricane. but you’ve grown, you’re sharper now. “you know you and your wife are always welcome here.” 

sanji heaves a laugh; it’s forced, broken, and it makes you feel a little nauseous. “wife,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, reaching for knife and chopping board. “there sure is a lot of catching up to do.” you stand here, looking at him, too tired to piece the words together and too dizzy to move a finger. your heart is full and your shoulders taut and your head empty of anything but a sound you can admit you missed. 

smooth as silk, clear as a bell. 

[autistichalsin]

EVERY American, on reaching adulthood (or sooner if possible, if you're in the right environment) needs to be relearning history.

Even in a blue state, I can all but guarantee you aren't learning the truth about Manifest Destiny or the pilgrims. You are probably being given an extremely propagandized view of the Cuban Revolution, if you learned about it all. You were probably taught a very narrow history of the Cuban Missile Crisis. You were guaranteed to have been given a sanitized history of the world's worst atrocities, even the Holocaust, the one part of history that's "allowed" to be taught messily.

And if you were in a red state, you not only have to learn more, you have to actively unlearn giant swaths of your schooling, even outside of history. In many southern states, the Civil War is taught as "the war of northern aggression" and students are told that Lincoln didn't care about slaves at all, he just wanted to stop the south from seceding at all costs. You were probably taught that native Americans "willingly relocated" from their homes rather than being victims of genocide.

Other countries can and do hide ugly parts of their pasts- Germany is the best at transparency- but few do propaganda on the level of the USA.

You need to learn the truth. Not just so you can learn what was kept from you, but also because if you don't, the only people with the full truth will be people with a vested interest in keeping it from you and using propaganda to control you and future generations.

You need to know about native American "boarding schools", which were an inspiration for Hitler's concentration camps. You need to know about Unit 731, the Rape of Nanking, and other crimes against humanity that happened outside of the Holocaust during WW2. You need to know about the role of slavery in the Cuban revolution. You need to know about religious persecution perpetrated- rather than escaped- by the Pilgrims. You need to know all of it, so that you can correct the inaccurate version of history those around you are being taught.

[androdetective]

I wish people talked about the recruiters backstory more. His story is one of exploitation and class tensions. He came from poverty and was a young guy who became a pink guard. Who eventually caught Oh Il-nam's interest, which is what got him promoted from soldier to manager to recruiter. He was only able to become successful because a rich guy happened to notice him. That was all entirely based on luck. We know he's rich now from that recruiter morning routine video that was released. He's one of the very rare people who actually went from poverty to riches.

When he was at his lowest when young, he was swept up by bad people who gave him the worst mentalities. But that's what caused him to be able to live a comfortable life. The way he talks, he talks exactly the way Oh Il-nam (and even the front man) talk about the games. How he's just a messenger who delivers messages, how he told himself during his guard years that the poor people are trash with no purpose. It's the simplification of horrible things. The mindset of the games/system got a hold of him. His poverty roots are irrelevant to him. He probably thinks he was different and a hard worker, which is why he made it unlike the other trash.

When he gives that "you're just another piece of trash who made it out of the garbage" speech to Gi-hun and how he only made it because of luck, that entirely applies to him. He had a millionaire VIP to help him, compared to the other hundreds of regular guards. It's unbelievable luck to have a millionaire to help you up the ranks/class. He is a self-hating class traitor. He's those types of people who went from poverty to upper class. And because they managed that, they swear that the system works and will be horribly classist to people below them. They think that lower class people are garbage and need to work harder just like they did. Ignoring the fact that they only managed to because of luck.

We know that outside of his work, he messes with poor people through games/social experiments. When he gave the homeless people the choices between bread and a lottery ticket, everyone but one chose the tickets. Which is already cruel, considering it takes extreme luck to win. It's even worse than a 1/456 chance. When he's finished, he dumps the bread and stomps on them. He then blames all the homeless people for wasting the bread because they chose unlucky tickets. This isn't even a part of his job, but he does this to reaffirm his belief in the system/game. It's a special type of cruelness because the money he spent on the tickets and bread was nothing to him. He could've given each person both of each and continued to be rich. But he doesn't because he views them as wastes who don't deserve it.

When holding Kim and Choi Woo-seok hostage. He ties them up and bounds them with dog bone gags. Something he probably got from the love hotel on such short notice. There are countless jokes about the gags, but I do think they have meaning. The recruiter is called a dog by Gi-hun. Something that means he's below his masters. He did not like getting told that by Gi-hun. We know the recruiter likes putting others below him. The show choice of specifically dog bones, to me, is another instance of him transferring that powerlessness to those below him. To have a sense of power and control. A reminder that he's made it. He even plays a classical song during the game (and even during russian roulette). With the song named "Time to Say Goodbye", it's one last mocking. Classical songs are seen as very high class. It's the kind of music played in the games. And that's what the recruiter enjoys and strives for.

We know that during his pink soldier days, he ended up shooting his dad. There are two beliefs people come to about him. That he was either a regular dad or a bad one. If he was a regular one, it shows that the trauma of poverty and capitalism can make you turn against loved ones. If he wasn't, it shows that already vulnerable people with no support are more likely to get preyed on by the privileged. The recruiter ends up saying a line I found interesting, "One day, they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence. " This was the most vulnerable we've seen him. This implies he didn't feel he had support until he was given power. A bad kind of power given to him by Oh Il-nam. He was being set up to become a valuable asset, not a person. That line could imply he didn't feel acknowledged not only by nobody before the games, but by even his family. If that's true, then that could further explain his happy attitude when he talked about shooting his dad. If he already sucked, then he was even worse by being desperate enough to play the games. Even all that aside, his feelings about his dad didn't matter. He had a job to do. If he couldn't do his job, he could get killed. It's either his dad dies or he dies. And that's exactly how the system works. He knows it's a dog eat dog world.

He becomes such a strong believer in the system he is willing to die for it. He followed the rules of Russian roulette because if he didn't, he'd go against of the rules of the system he wholeheartedly believes in. The system who got him to greatness. The system wants you to kill and die to uphold it, so that's why he does it.

Before he shoots himself, half his face is confident while the other half is scared. Gong Yoo has said he did that on purpose. Even before death, he was putting on a confident performance. But his fear, from seeing that HIS luck with the system ran out, was enough to crack through. From what we've seen of him, he's almost never genuine. He puts on a customer like service kindness. When we know he hates the people he recruits/interacts with. The most genuine we've seen him was during rock paper scissors and russian roulette. And even then, he's putting on a show trying to freak out the players. He looks down on them, and he wants to be the one in control. He's not allowed to be genuine with those he recruits, nor does he let himself. He's a good employee who does his best for his employers. And that's exactly it, he's another employee who's easily replaceable. After the recruiters' death, we don't see In-ho worry about it. No one cares because there's others like him. As Gi-hun has said, he runs around, barks, and grovels like a dog for his master. The recruiter is no one special, no matter how much he sucks up to those in power. It shows best in his lack of a name. His personhood doesn't matter, what matters is his job.

[polutrope]

Daeron's Foresight

Instead of working on one of my myriad ideas and projects that might actually yield a Product, here's an unsolicited overview of why I headcanon that Daeron is foresighted, or at least a bit of an oddball seer-type.

His mentor is (not explicitly in canon but quite naturally) Melian, not only the most gifted of the Maiar in "songs of enchantment" (also like Daeron) but one known to foresee the future and cultivate this gift in her mentees (e.g., Galadriel)

Association with Music (and water: "made lament beside dark waters") in Tolkien lends itself to greater access to the Meaning of the Universe™ past/present/future, given it all began with a Song.

This passage in Lay of Leithian (Canto V). Thingol has just summoned Daeron to ask him why everything has fallen silent in Doriath (it's because Daeron cast a spell of silence upon seeing Luthien with Beren).

... Daeron coming no word spoke, silent amid the woodland folk. Then Thingol said: 'Oh Daeron fair, thou master of all musics rare, enchanted heart and wisdom wild, whose ear nor eye may be beguiled, who all that passes in this land dost ever heed and understand, what omen doth this silence bear? What horn afar upon the air, what summons do the woods await? Mayhap Lord Tavros from his gate and tree-propped halls, the forest-god, rides his great stallion golden-shod amid the trumpets' tempest loud, amid his green-clad hunters proud, leaving his deer and friths divine and emerald forests? [...] Would it were so! An age now hath gone by since Nahar trod this earth in days of our peace and ancient mirth, ere rebel lords of Eldamar pursuing Morgoth from afar brought war and ruin to the North. Doth Tavros to their aid come forth? But if not he, who comes, or what?' And Daeron said: 'He cometh not. No feet divine shall leave that shore where the Outer Seas' last surges roar, 'till many things be come to pass, and many evils wrought. Alas, the guest is here. The woods are still, but wait not; for a marvel chill them holds at the strange deeds they see, though king sees not - yet queen, maybe, can guess, and maiden doubtless knows who ever now beside her goes.'

First of all, there's Thingol's intriguing way of addressing him, "who all that passes in this land / dost ever heed and understand / what omen doth this silence bear?" which gives strong "you have above-average insight" vibes (don't ask me why he doesn't ask his wife -- we all know there's something Weird going on with the Melian/Thingol/Insight situation). The last part is straight-up asking him to read an omen.

Then Thingol goes off on this tangent about Orome (Tavros) returning, and the hooves of Nahar, and oh that the Valar would come deliver them from Morgoth! and Daeron has this unhinged response. "He cometh not." Can you just imagine that three-worder landing like a brick after Thingol's florid speech? And he goes on to explain himself in these cryptic terms, "'till many things be come to pass, / and many evils wrought." I mean, sure, this could be humorously dismissed with a "No shit, Daeron" but I think he knows a little more about those Things and Evils than he lets on. Then he follows this up with a riddle -- very oracular behaviour -- about Beren's presence in Doriath.

Anyway, I just think Daeron is neat. And even neater if he knew all along, like Melian, that Something was going to happen with Luthien. But, unlike Melian, he does not handle its actual happening with the calm (if grief-laden) acceptance of a god who sang the world into being. He spirals, because his worst predictions are coming true and that means all the rest of it is going to come true also and he just LOSES it and wanders off on "strange paths". That's all we get of him in Silm, but in Leithian there's more. His behaviour is erratic, first "haunting the gloom of tangled trees" and getting enraged when he sees Beren and Luthien together; but then when he's about to divulge to Thingol, he sees Luthien's eyes and won't; then Luthien confides her hope to flee to him, and Daeron spills those beans to Thingol; then he regrets that and actually facilitates her escape. Then he joins a search party to look for her and ... disappears.

His is not the mere despair of a jilted lover: it is the despair of someone who sees the full horror of the future rolling in and can do nothing to stop it; nothing to stop the destruction and death of all that is beautiful (embodied in Luthien, but existing in everything) in the world.

[wisteriahyacinth]

@fhfnejd @alwaysstreetsahead thank you for caring 🥺😭😥 here is part 2. Going more in depth.

I think the main reason why I'd struggle to be friends with everyone is because of the timing. The best way I could describe it is if you wanted to make friends with a stranger at a funeral. Like, you know you're never gonna see them ever again, but the timing to make friends is SO BAD.

I'd also like to add that I have like 0 social skills online and irl, so there's that. I overthink, get intimidated easily, and I always wonder if my friends are actually my friends. Like.. lukewarm friends aren't a consept to me. You're either a friend, or not.

First off, Luke:

I feel like he already has such a disconnect with everyone at camp except for Annabeth. He probably saw everyone as a duty or a responsibility. He'd probably be nice to me, as he was nice to pretty much everyone, even Percy. He literally stole stuff just for him. But I feel like I'd wonder if he'd see me as a friend, which probably wouldn't make me think we were. We could bond over parent stuff cuz duh, but then again, I don't think we'd be close so I wouldn't consider him a friend.

Next, Percy. He gives off not the energy I'd vibe with. He's.. mischievous? Trickster-y? Not necessarily a person I'd gravitate toward. I'd probably avoid him. But if I didn't avoid him, again, I'd probably feel bad for trying to comr up to him when he's mourning over the loss of his mom. Then of course after TLT he's like super popular and busy and stressed. I don't think I'd have the courage to walk up to someone like him. He's charismatic and charming. Not a person I'd feel comfortable yapping my interests to.

Annabeth: knowing Athena kids and their fatal flae of pride, I'd probably.. really dislike her? I'd feel threatened and unhappy. But again if I wanted to walk up to her, she's again super intimidating. She's an amazing strategist and fighter even before the og series. Like.. i know for a fact that I'd suck at everything demigodly, (despite the quiz saying im an athena kid, which NO I WANNA BE A HERMES KID, I AM NOT SMART) and i don't think Annabeth would want to be friends with me. She also just seems really cold. I feel like what would happen is that we'd meet at the arts and crafts area or library, and she'd either look very busy, or if I tried to talk to her, she would probably look uninterested and I'd overthing, causing me to ignore her forever (EVEN IF THE QUIZ SAYS SHE'S MY SISTER)

Jason: there are 2 ways we could go about this. Either im a roman camper or a greek camper. Let's start with roman

Roman- if I was a Roman camper, I assume I'd be put in the worst cohort. Perfect since Jason belongs there. BUT! Knowing his reputation, he'd probably really intimidate me. Like yeah, he tried his goddamn best to be down to earth, but I have the strange feeling that he'd be.. like Mai from ATLA? Just, trying his best to be down to earth and normal, but also walking a tightrope to use his power and influence to make things better. He has to be rigid and stiff for people to respect him enough to make changes. Like.. maybe I'd be friends with him, but I try really really hard to be friends with someone. This might cause him to think that I have bad intentions when in reality, im just insecure. He'd probably be friends with me, because I know I'd be like at the very bottom of the rank, but then again, i feel like I'd worry if our friendship was genuine.

Greek- If I was greek, I'd probably just seem him come into camp one day using the roman names of the gods. Which probably would put me off, but i don't think it would stop me from wanting to be friends with him. I just think that with him being all busy with the quest and stuff, that I'd have no time to get to know him and that I'd still probably be intimidated by him. If not by him, then I'd probably be scared of Piper hating me for wanting to be friends with him.

Piper: Knowing me, I'd probably try to make friends with Jason first. This could make her potentially dislike me. But if I didn't, I don't know if I'd have enough in common with her to be friends with her. Just thinking about her character, I don't know if she'd be willing to listen to be ramble about random things. It'd probably be like with Annabeth, where I try to talk to her, then I end up not knowing how to continue the conversation, and then overthink causing me to just completely avoid her.

Leo: I might actually become friends with Leo, assuming he isn't stuck in his cabin? Like.. he seems funny, and I know for a fact that I'd see through his facade cuz I RELATE BRO. Like, I may not know WHY, but I know we'd relate to each other. He seems charming enough for me to want to get to know him, but also not very cold or judgemental, which may make me inclined to talk to him. I just don't know if we'd have much of a friendship cuz duh, main characters have too interesting of lives and basically forget friendships with characters that aren't main characters. :(

Frank: Frank seems to be.. normal and approachable. Like.. he doesn't strike me as a person whp would judge me for being weird. And I feel like we'd relate to not associating with our godly parents. Like i took the quiz and got Athena, but i associate more with hermes. Because strategy n stuff, i suck at, but Luke in TLT described Hermes kids as jacks of all trades and masters of none, which feels perfect for me. Just like how Frank felt like he didn't fit in with the typical child of Mars stuff and preferred to be seen as a child of Apollo.

Hazel: She also seems like Frank, very sweet and nice and normal. She doesn't seem like she'd judge me. She might scare me a bit because she can be very strong, but hey, that just means that if she saw me feeling insecure about my friendship with her, she'd reassure me strongly.

Grover: I might become friends with Grover? The only thing is that I wonder if I'd feel secure. Because like.. what if he only became friends with me because of his job of being a protector?

Silena: I think I'd become friends with her. She just seems like a sweet person. All she wants to do is make things better. Especially with the Aphrodite rite of passage. She seems to be a good person who will do the right thing when it's needed.

Will: I don't know, because again, he has so many responsibilities. He'd probably intimidate the hell out of me. And the timing too! I could have made friends with him in like.. TTC? But.. I dunno.

Nico: HOW WOULD I MAKE FRIENDS WITH THIS GUY?? HE'D SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME. Like.. there's a chance that I'd want to be friends with him. He's a loner, im a loner, it makes sense. But also.. i imagine him to just look constantly unhappy. I feel like I'd fear him getting angry at me. I'd probably try to talk to him about.. something? Maybe something nerdy if I snooped enough to know that about him? But I really don't know if he'd be willing to listen to me talk about Superman for 2 hours.

Reyna: Reyna is just like Jason. She's just.. so stiff and rigid. Like.. she just looks so intimidating. Assuming im a roman in this scenario, when she first gets to camp, she's probably already very skilled. I could have tried making friends with her, but then again, she was like Jason. A perfect candidate to be preator. Someone who is seen like that is very responsible, very put together. Aka, the perfect person to scare me away and make me feel self-conscious. I'd probably have a better chance making friends with Jason compared to Reyna.

Rachel: There's just no way. She's like.. a minor celebrity or something? Rich and powerful and an activist. I could very well have become friends with her talking about activism stuff, but she's also rich and well, she just seems like a person who'd make me insecure again.

Thalia: There is literally no time in which a regular camper could talk to Thalia. She gets revived then is sent on a mission to get Nico and Bianca. Then there's the whole quest in TTC then she becomes a hunter. WHERE IN THAT TIME AM I, A REGULAR CAMPER SUPPOSED TO TALK TO HER?? Also she's punk.. I feel like she'd scare me away. Like.. maybe I'd think really hard to talk to her. But then i feel like a convo with her might fizzle out and make me overthink again.

Is there anyone im missing? I really dunno if I should make a part 3 lol

[scribbing]

Veilguard doesn't work with Mass Effect 2's Strategy

I mean the 'lets get our heads on straight before we go into the 'suicide mission'' concept.

In Mass Effect 2, Shepard and the gang know full well that they are going to undertake a mission that will most likely result in their deaths but there is no real ticking clock over their heads. They are the ones making the choice to go there, the only point in time in the game that there's a potential for a ticking clock is after your crew is stolen but that is still a very personal timebomb and not a galaxy wide one.

So everyone wanting to tie up loose ends, make sure family is safe and cared for, get the answers to questions they desperately needed are all okay; because there's no 'The Reapers are literally here, right outside the window and what the hell why would you ask us to waste time to go chase down a random lead that might be nothing or just something that only affects you when billions are dying?'. No, there's 'we're going to take the fight to the Collectors so everyone be ready'. It works, the stakes allow that time to be used.

Veilguard does not allow this and yet still tries to give it. The Blight is here. It is killing people right now. Whole groups have been massacred and whole cities and fortresses destroyed. It is literally the end of the world TODAY...so what the hell? How am I supposed to care that someone wants to go 'finish a last case' or 'we're all distracted because what does this new magic mean?' Um - it means NOTHING, none of this has any weight or value up against THE END OF THE WORLD HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!?!?!?!

The whole 'we went and got professionals, the best of the best' does not then work with 'oh but they're distracted from SAVING THE WORLD because of personal trifles. Because in the end that's what ALL of their personal questlines boil down to. TRIFLES. While people are actively dying, while the end is rapidly approaching.

It's the absolute worst attempt at trying to create the same layout of ME2, and it makes me just sigh because its ridiculous. When you're literally part of the what, 8 person team that's going to STOP THE END OF THE WORLD you don't get to be 'oh but I'm distracted because of personal things but I swear I'm a professional but I'm going to be semi-useless and potentially die and get others killed if you don't hold my hand and pat my head on this thing that holds no value whatsoever'.