#gotta stand in unity

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

*inhale*

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!

Happy pride to the trailblazing gays in the background who brought representation into media you enjoy!!

Happy pride to front-running queer characters that showed people a relationship with someone who you love above all else is valid and beautiful!

Happy pride to openly trans, enby, & gender queer characters (and all the likes!) with experiences that make people feel SEEN and LOVED.

Happy pride to everyone :) I hope we all have such a lovely month and continue to persevere through hardships and bigotry to come out stronger and better than ever before. Love yourself and others, and drink lots of water (stay hydrated at parades DEFINITELY)! Stay safe out there!!

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜 🩷 🤎 🖤

(Bonus art because I’m messing with their comic designs— William with buck teeth my beloved)

[jessicalprice]

I think the thing that most Christian atheists who are rebelling against authoritarian Christian backgrounds don't get is why Jews remain Jewish.

Like, I get it, you engaged in your practices because you were told that God would punish you if you didn't, because you're told you're supposed to fear God.

(Incidentally, we don't even use the same language about this. The term that gets translated in most English bibles as "fear" is, like many classical Hebrew words, a lot more multivalent than the English term, and has more of a connotation of "awe." (See, for example, the Gilgamesh dream sequence: "Why am I trembling? No god passed this way." A god is something in whose wake one trembles.) It's what one feels when one is faced with something bigger than oneself, something overwhelming. For some people that may be fear of being harmed. For others it may be wonder or even ecstasy, standing outside oneself.)

But in 2023, Jews have the option (and, indeed, still the cultural pressure) to completely abandon Judaism. Very easily. We can, in fact, do it quite passively. If we're not actively trying to engage with it, it will very much drift away from us.

And it's not fear of divine punishment keeping most of us engaged.

The thing is, if you proved to me tomorrow that God doesn't exist, I'm not sure anything about my life or my practice would change. (I'm already agnostic, so *shrug*. I don't believe in a God-person. Sometimes I believe in a unity to reality, a life and a direction to it. Sometimes I don't. I just don't have the arrogance to think I understand definitively the way the universe does or doesn't work.) I still would celebrate Shabbat, I still wouldn't eat pork, I still would have a mezuzah on my doorway.

I do all that stuff because I'm Jewish, not because I think God will get mad if I don't. I do all that stuff because it's part of a cultural system that I see as wise and life-giving and therapeutic and worth maintaining.

And the thing is, the cultural system that Christian antitheists want us to assimilate into, under the guise of "getting rid of religion", is very much a white Protestant culture. It's not culturally neutral. It has practices, and it has a particular worldview, and it has cultural norms that are just as irrational as any other culture's.

It's also very telling that Christian antitheists purport to be harmed by Jews continuing to be Jewish. Why? We don't impose our norms on anyone else, and we overwhelmingly vote (and organize, and engage in activism) against the imposition of Christian "religious" norms, such as the curtailing of reproductive freedom, blue laws, etc.

So you're only "harmed" by our continued existence in the same way Christians purport to be harmed by it: by claiming that the very existence of a group that doesn't share your worldview and practices is somehow an act of oppression against you.

Which is, you know, white supremacist logic.

You're still upholding the logic of Jesus's genocidal, colonial Great Commission even though you supposedly don't believe in the god that ordered it anymore.

That's gotta be one of the saddest things I encounter among my fellow humans.

You took down all the crosses in the church of your mind and chucked them out the window, but you still refuse to step foot outside the church building, contenting yourself with claiming it's not a church, and firing out the windows at the synagogue and mosque down the road, the same way you used to.

[daycourtofficial]

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.5k | warnings: none

Summary: fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

Author’s note: happy Eris Week to all who celebrate and to @erisweekofficial for all their work!! I gotta start with my roots and my first post has to be gingerfucker!! I have to give the people what they know me for!! This can be read as a stand alone tho 🫶🏻

You breathed deeply, the chimes of the clock tower drowning out any other noise. Eris stood before you, an immaculate jacket of deep red adorning his chest. He wore a black dress shirt beneath, embroidered with the phases of the moon around the collar. His jacket was a rich velvet, gold thread woven throughout.

It was the perfect way to symbolize your unity. You were not sure who made such a garment, unsure if black fabric was even allowed in the Autumn Court.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his soft amber eyes look down at you as he held out his arm for you.

The two of you were in the Day Court under the cover of darkness, a secret mating ceremony. It was truly quite romantic, a tale you hoped to share whenever it’s safe for you to do so.

You had come to visit Helion a month prior for negotiations on behalf of Rhysand. You had asked to come in Rhys’s stead because 1) you also had wanted to peruse the libraries and 2) you were hoping to negotiate a pegasus from Helion.

At least, those were the reasons you gave your brother.

The end of Amarantha’s reign had allowed you to finally see your mate for the first time in five decades, having slipped away to a spot in the woods after Rhys’s return to wait in hopes of just a glimpse of him.

You had waited impatiently, certain that the nerves and anxiety were rolling off you in waves for any nearby wildlife to intercept. It felt incredible to see him again, your face tucked beneath his chin as he held you close to him, his scent burning itself into your memory once more.

His first words to you following your separation were a desperate plea for a ceremony, his pleas soft as he clutched you tightly to his chest.

You knew it was too risky to do it in either of your home courts. Spring was an obvious no, Winter and Dawn were quite risky, leaving Summer and Day as your only real options.

You were quite fond of Helion, and you were sure you could convince him to allow the two of you passage into his court for a few hours.

After he listened to your pleas, he agreed to allow the two of you access to one of his temples for a few hours.

“Not all of us can see so well in the moonlight,” he had told you, letting you know the location of the most beautiful temple in his court. “Only one priestess roams the halls on Tuesday nights. She is quite fond of performing such ceremonies.”

His words were no embellishment. The temple before you was massive and stunningly beautiful. The high arched ceilings with suns painted everywhere almost glowed against the blue backdrop behind them.

You wondered how it looked during the day.

Eris looked down as you hooked your arm into his. You had accepted the bond decades ago, but the two of you wanted to go through with the ceremony. To ensure that no matter what happened to two of you moving forward, whatever happened to your courts, your people, your homes, there was some record with this date and your names on it. Some written record for future generations to find eons later, when the lands look nothing like they do now and the people live lives that resemble nothing like your own.

When the common tongue is gone, replaced with some newer language you couldn’t begin to understand. Your names would live forever within the pages of this temple, tucked away in their recorded archives: the prince of the Autumn Court and the princess of the Night Court, bound together by fate and by their own wishes.

The flickering light from the candles made Eris’s freckles dance across his face.

The lord led you down the long aisle, your arm nestled into his elbow. The two of you moved in tandem, your long skirts kissing the ground as you went, the black fabric turning red as it moved down your body until it looked as if you walked in the flames.

The priestess nodded at the two of you as you approached the altar, your dress’s slight train cascading down the steps behind you. You turned to Eris, his hands outstretched in invitation, pleading for yours to rest atop them. His hands were warm against yours, the familiar heat calming your nerves.

The priestess before you wore all white, a long flowing gown cinched at the waist. It looked nothing like what Helion wore - instead of long, flowing fabrics, the priestess wore a long, tight-fitted dress, long bell shaped sleeves adorning her arms. A white hood covered her dark black hair, and dark hands adorned with gold rings peaked out from her sleeves.

The priestess lit the candles around the altar as you two looked into each other’s eyes, every emotion strumming through the bond between you two, a song you swore you could hear humming through the air and your chest.

She approached the two of you, a golden silk ribbon in her hands. You moved your right hand into his right hand, and he gently scraped his index finger against his palm. She began chanting, wrapping the soft silk around your forearms. She connected the two joined hands, and you squeezed Eris’s palm, offering a soft smile that he returned.

He was captivating in the night, a fire that kept you warm long through a treacherous night.

Her chanting paused as she looked at you, her low voice telling you, “if you wish to exchange any personal vows, now is the time.”

You took a deep breath, turning back to Eris.

Your mate looked back at you, and any nerves you had dissipated as you started speaking, the words coming from your lips as you gazed into his amber eyes.

“I’m not sure if we were ever two separate things, but if we were, if we are, the edges of you and I have been blurring since I met you, our definitions becoming hazier. I am officially laying claim that there is no longer any part of me that hasn’t been invaded by you.

“I have prayed for you in bonfires, in the dying hearths of my childhood. I always viewed fire as a sacred thing, always offering it something so it can continue to burn before me. Perhaps I was just learning how to stoke the flames, or maybe I knew that worshiping the flame would lead me to you.”

His hand squeezed your own, the ribbon not feeling tight enough to truly blend the two of you together.

His eyes shone in the candlelight, his beauty intensified in the flame as if it knew he was kin.

“I have gone by many names. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn throne, prick, eldest, …. All of those names pale in comparison to the first time you called me ‘mate’.

“That awful playwright who you adore so much put into one of his plays, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” And yet, he never knew what it felt like to be called ‘yours’, what it feels like when you gaze at me so softly, to see the words ‘mine, mine, mine’ swimming in your irises.

“I do not know where my promises can lie, what I am truly capable of. I do not wish to commit to false promises. Our foundation has always been on feeble ground, and I do not wish to build a mateship on such poor foundations.

“I promise to do my very best for you, every day, every minute, for the rest of my life. I promise that every decision I will make will include you as a factor. As the factor. My life is complicated, as you are aware, but you are not complicated. You never have been. My chest yearns for you, at all times. You have always offered me the peace of familiarity.“

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss before pulling back quickly.

“Er, I don’t care about my name, or my title. None of it compares to being called your mate.”

The priestess looked at you two, probably waiting to see if you would pounce on him right here. Maybe that was how they held these ceremonies in Day. You were sure Helion wouldn’t mind.

“You are bound together, from here for eternity, in perfect union. May the Mother bless you both with endless love and patience for each other.”

The air had a certain crispness to it at her words, the bond humming in your chest with satisfaction, satisfying a yearning that hadn’t let up for centuries.

Nobody could deny either of you the sanctity of your bond anymore.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

Thanks for reading ❣️

[tmrwsuns]

(𐙚⋆.˚) new dispatch couple

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ [hirota riki x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 1.5k w. curse words! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

requested!

maki always thought he would never do anything to risk his career. 

being an idol had always been his dream, and he worked too hard to throw that all away by disobeying his company.

that is, until you appeared in the picture.

they had been told that a rookie group would be joining them for an interview in order to promote the unity of the company. he had always been good at interacting with new people, so he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

again, until you appeared in the picture.

he couldn’t really help the way the entire world seemed to just stop the moment you walked into the waiting room, bowing a little lower than it was needed at the sight of his group. he could hear the greetings coming from his members; far too mesmerised by the sight of your pretty eyes to even realize what was going on until nicholas’ hand was pushing his head down a little forcefully and shooting him a questioning look.

“it's nice to meet you, thank you for having us,” you said, your eyes finding his. maki felt himself physically melt at the sweet sound. 

the boy tried to get his shit together quickly and answer, but he really had no control on the way his cheeks tinted red and his tongue seemed to be too tangled to get a sentence out without stuttering, so his mouth snapped closed as fast as it had opened to speak.

“of course, it's nice to meet you too,” euijoo intervened, saving his ass from embarrassing himself right in front of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

maki could see the teasing smiles yuma and nicho were looking at him with, the attention uncharacteristically embarrassing. 

“i’m maki,” he blurted out, interrupting fuma in the middle of his sentence. his eyes widened, surprised at his own outburst as yuma’s loud laugh echoed in the room. he really couldn’t count on him to be slick.

“nice to meet you, maki,” you smiled, and god he wanted you to smile at him for the rest of his life. “i’m yn.”

his next attempt of a sentence was interrupted by the announcement of having to start their interview soon, making everyone, including you, scatter around to get last minute touch ups.

the world clearly had it out for him, though, because you now found yourself standing so close to him that your shoulders touched as the interview went on. he could see the way your hands fiddled nervously with the fabric of your skirt every time it was your turn to speak, and it made his heart shrink of fondness in his chest. he remembered the nervousness of being in front of the camera, wishing that someone would tell him how he was doing. 

so, naturally, he did just that.

“you’re doing amazing, don’t worry,” he whispered, leaning in slightly so no one could hear him but you.

your gaze moved quickly, surprised eyes looking into his for a few seconds until they softened and a smile took place on your lips.

“thank you,” you muttered before looking back to the front, your hands dropping the fabric.

he had to bite the side of his cheek to hide his giddy smile.

...୨♡୧...

“please try not to smile like an idiot in love when yn comes in, fans noticed since the first time,” ej warned as they sat around yet another waiting room, expecting your arrival at any minute while the crew finished setting up the cameras.

“i think she did, too,” jo scoffed amusedly.

“can’t help it, she’s too pretty,” maki sighed exaggeratingly, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically as he ignored the boy’s comment. “i swear she looks better every time i see her.”

“i gotta give it to him, he’s right,” taki chimed in, making maki raise his arm again to give him an unamused questioning look. “my bad, never again.” the boy raised his hands in surrender.

“you would’ve thought you would stop when you became friends with her,” harua commented, looking at them with an amused smile.

“nah, it just made it worse,” maki groaned, noting the way his infatuation had just worsened since the moment you both became friendlier and he actually got to know you outside of your idol persona. “maybe exchanging numbers wasn’t a great idea.”

“i told you,” fuma said in a sing-songy voice.

“whatever, let me be,” maki threw a pillow at him from his place sprawled out on the couch. “i’ll continue to suffer in silence.”

“wait, shut up, they just knocked,” kei warned, a smile evident in his voice.

the youngest basically jumped up to a more presentable position, fixing his hair quickly and earning a few laughs from his members.

“she won’t run from seeing you laying on a couch, you know,” yuma teased, earning a pillow thrown to his face right before the door opened.

he watched as your group came in, bowing politely at the sight of your seniors. he stood up to bow right back, his heart already racing in his chest at the mere sight of you.

“hi,” you smiled animatedly as you walked up to sit on the couch opposite to him, happy to find a friend on the boy that was so close in age to you.

“hi ynnie, how are you?” he asked, mentally high fiving himself for not stuttering like an idiot.

“all good, a little sore but nothing other worldly,” you nodded, relaxing onto the couch. 

“hmm, be careful with that affecting your performance today,” he teased, making reference to the sports variety show you were both supposed to participate in.

“it won’t, i’ll beat you guys anyways,” you shrugged, a mocking cocky smile on your lips. 

you very obviously did not.

it’s not like you ever stood a chance against what seemed to be an unnecessarily sporty group, but you did put up a good fight.

and it was maki’s very own duty to reward you for it.

“here you go,” he smiled, extending a pack of gummies to where you laid on the floor.

“oh, thank you,” you smiled, getting the snack and patting the floor next to you to signal him to lay beside you. “so, tell me. are you guys actually werewolves or just furries?”

the boy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips as he rolled his eyes. “jesus, not you too.”

...୨♡୧...

nothing could’ve ever prepared maki for what being your friend meant. how was he supposed to take the teasing smiles, the memes sent to his phone at concerning hours? how was he expected to not want to wipe off those smiles with his lips? to not answer every single text with a marriage proposal? to not reveal his undying love for you every time he saw the edits your fans made shipping you?

they were unfair expectations, if you asked him.

but the most unfair one of them all is that he was expected to not stare at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. because you were. even more when you wore comfy clothes and your hair was a mess, much like that exact moment.

“did you see the edit i sent you? they’re getting creative,” you chuckled from where you sat mere inches away from him on the bed.

“hmm, i thought it was cute,” he shrugged, looking down to his phone to avoid meeting your gaze after his slightly shameful confession. 

“my manager doesn’t think so,” you chuckled, ignoring the way your stomach fluttered at his words.

“mine doesn’t either, but i don’t care.” he mumbled, acting as nonchalant as he could as he mindlessly scrolled on his phone.

“careful there, you sound like you want to make the rumors true,” you mumbled, attempting to keep your tone light and amused as if your heart wasn’t racing.

“and who says i don’t?” he mumbled, voice barely audible.

but you heard him.

loud and fucking clear.

“wait, what did you say?” you asked, unable to keep the astonishment out of your voice.

maki took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a fraction of a second to weigh his options.

fuck it.

“what if i do want them to be true?” he asked, his voice shaking as he raised his gaze to connect it with yours.

“you do?” you asked, dropping the act as your eyes widened in surprise and your chest filled with hope.

“yeah,” he admitted, breathlessly. “do you?”

he stared at you, his eyes so full of hope that it made you want to explode in affection.

“i…” you hesitated, too lost in his eyes to form coherent sentences. 

makis heart dropped.

“i do.”

and that's all it took for him to take your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss you both had awaited for too long. it was sweet, tentative and careful all the way until you broke away for air.

“so…” you muttered softly, not putting too much distance between your faces. “new dispatch couple?”

maki couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, tackling you into a tight hug.

“new dispatch couple.”

𐙚 blue's corner ;; hey !! sorry for taking so long for this request, i hope you like it!! also special thank you to my bby @lovelyjuju for beta reading<3 𐙚 taglist ;; @tiramisumin @astrasng @hyukabean @lovelyjuju 𐙚 back to the masterlist. 𐙚 please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

© tmrwsuns, 2025

[microcosmia]

I want a "Sakura joins Shishitoren" AU.

Like, in middle school or whatever, Sakura hears the rumor that Furin isn't what it used to be - Umemiya made it soft, they're all about "unity" and "togetherness" and "power of friendship" and Sakura just goes "obvs can't prove myself there anymore gotta find somewhere else" and then he hears about the "Devotees of Power: Shishitoren" and he's like, yeah that could work.

Ofc he still ends up meeting Furin cause he's gonna be right in the middle of the whole "showcase battles" or whatever and in the end when Furin still wins and Tomiyama is trying to give SST to Umemiya, Ume's like "nah don't want the whole thing but I'll take that stray cat looking guy tho, he looks like he needs love" and now Furin just like...randomly shows up in Sakura's life. He doesnt even live in Makochi. What the he'll.

Togame is concerned for him from the onset but can't show it. Choji thinks he's neat - it's a new toy that keeps standing up after he beats him down. A real Challenger. For Sakura, Choji becomes another obstacle that prevents him from proving his existence by being the strongest, but also having someone so much stronger than him acknowledge him feels like its own kind of proof?

Anyway, Umemiya and Choji engage in a passive aggressive custody battle, Togame is trying to make sure Sakura doesn't end up Choji 2.0 (with mixed success), and Sakura somehow still winds up at Pothos.

Unrelated, Kotoha is trying to charm a stray cat.

[raayllum]

could you talk about the bridge scene with the leaf falling over rayla

anon i was literally thinking about that specific shot just a couple days ago so THANK YOU for the opportunity bc it's soo freaking good like

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the four Banther Lodge bridge scenes (Rayllum twice in 7x02, Ezran and Aanya in 7x03, and Rayllum's final scene in 7x09). Bridges in fiction usually symbolize transition, thresholds, or unity, but none of these ideas are particularly present in half the scenes on said bridge. I do think we can see some overall arc though if we look at Rayllum's scenes together in 7x02.

Rayla is fronting with anger and frustration, since that's what she's always done with her sadness and guilt, particularly when she feels helpless. The fact that it's a beloved friend who's unexpectedly being an obstacle to her when this was never the case with Zym/Zubeia has also gotta sting. This is also Rayla in some ways at her least mature / most impatient (beyond the marginally better council meeting, even if Rayla is canonically terrible at explaining things).

We also know she's reacting emotionally (as previously stated, Callum is literally the only person Rayla can count on to be in her corner here whatsoever; without him, she has no one, whereas Ezran has the entire council + Zym and Aanya) since when Callum does offer to be on her side and actively help her, Rayla rejects it out of love for him and Ezran. She wasn't necessarily asking him to take a stand for her earlier on the bridge, but wanting to know that someone else understood her perspective (and he does).

This episode in particular establishes a strong visual language for the two (i.e. Rayla standing in the dark during the council meeting, Callum's chair being closest to hers, etc). The visual parallels between the bridge meetings, as well as set up for later in the episode, are no exception; I'll talk about the couple more I noticed in a bit.

And Rayllum does have a nice moment of unity on the bridge, even if it ultimately is supposed to be their goodbye for an unknown period of time. The last time they were on a bridge of sorts, it was the pathway Viren had carved with dark magic in 5x02: "But it's a bridge between our two worlds, and now here we are, crossing it together." "Maybe you're right. It's an old wound that's healing."

Now, they're being forced apart by their own choices / circumstances, and reopening an old wound of sorts in doing so because Ezran hasn't healed (and at this point, largely refuses to try).

With all that out of the way, we can actually talk about the shot(s) you requested! The most interesting one to me, I think, is the choice to frame it in water. Now it could just be a nice way to freshen up the shot, give us a different perspective, etc. Water reflections and such are present in the other bridge scene with Aanya after all, and are commonly utilized in animation, storyboarding, etc to make things look more interesting when there's an opportunity to do so.

Most of the time in TDP, even when including Rayllum, water shots are framed rightside up, accentuating but not dislodging the audience's natural perspective of things.

For example, even in Ezran and Aanya's scene on the bridge, we don't see this inverted perspective the way we do for Rayllum here.

Which begs the question why? I think there's one more likely / direct option, and another more beloved tinfoil hat version. The one I think they were actually going for (the first) is to invoke a sense of unnaturalness. Callum and Rayla separating feels fundamentally wrong to both of them, especially this time, and turning things upside down, away from how they should be, helps create that feeling.

The other more tinfoil hat one is that — in a season with an episode titled "Inversion" — we have seen this "upside down" thread in TDP before.

We have King Harrow's "there's a beautiful upside down truth" in 2x05, which doesn't really fit with the above (although maybe there could be a connection with "forgive me" / "i now believe true strength is found in forgiveness, in vulnerability, in love" etc).

More directly, there's the Key of Aaravos, whose repeated 'turning upside down' has been a segue to dark magic use routinely, specifically in 7x06's case at the "If you love her, you'll be the you that can save her." (More on that here, if you're curious.)

With this in mind, the tinfoil idea would be that the Rayllum reflection inversion is set up to further connect with 7x06, and highlight how much Callum wants to help her, is only willing to separate from her for her own genuine good, and that he'd do anything for her. ("You don't have to ask. I would do anything for you." / "If you love them, Rayla, Ezran, all of them, you'll do anything to save them.")

After the above shot on the bridge, Callum begins to walk away, a reversal of earlier where Rayla left first. In doing so, Callum passes behind her, being totally covered up by her like they are one person. This is again to reinforce the pain of being potentially separated and how unnatural it feels, especially because this feeling of Callum-and-Rayla as one entity is going to be further reaffirmed in the finale (wherein unlike Viren's heart and body/life being sacrificed together unto himself, Rayla's heart and Callum's body/life would be sacrificed together).

Then the leaf pops up, obscuring Rayla's face/head — but this isn't the first time we've seen this framing. We actually just saw it earlier in the scene!

There's a few reasons, I think. The first is to accentuate division and absence. They're going to be separated, Rayla is going to be gone, anchoring us a bit more to Callum's thoughts/feelings accordingly. I also think there's an element of outside, externalized forces more so being the reason for their separation (i.e. everything with Ezran) rather than it being something either of them actively Want, either. There's also an element of erasure, reminiscent of Ghosting erasing not an elf's body necessarily within the spell, but their faces as a sign of the banishment. The boys and Katolis have been Rayla's second default home, but now everyone (except Callum) is against her, refusing to acknowledge her pain or perspective (although she hasn't done a great job at acknowledging Ez's, but she also doesn't have Power over him the same way he does in this situation), and she feels compelled to turn against them this time to do what feels right for her family.

Then we have the closing shots of the scene with the leaf.

The leaf causes ripples (which is loaded as a concept: Rayla causing ripples by chucking rocks at her still floating Lotus; her "ripples of mercy" in sparing Marcos in S1 that have not yet stilled; Aaravos' fascination with ripples as laid out in the TDP short story of the same name). We do know presumably that Callum's choice to go with Rayla to the Silvergrove (and help her father) was somewhat set in stone, since if Astrid had flown to Katolis she would've just found ruins, wouldn't have known to go to the Banther Lodge (or gotten info there since nobody knows who she is), so Kosmo must've told her where the Mage and the Warrior would be ahead of time. Very 'fated' in some ways.

The ripples also lead to distortion. This can convey impact (threaded back into the tinfoil lens) or Rayla being further obscured (negative). The leaf moves further to be a 'physical barrier' between the two on the bridge, as Callum leaves Rayla standing alone (but still, she's gone before he turns around).

I do think the choice to set it on the water is a nice piece of possible setup for water (the boat, aided by Callum's magic) being their successful (positive) getaway later.

Another little piece of symbolism I love this episode is their hands, specifically how they reluctantly part with Callum's lingering in their goodbye on the bridge, and how the hands are used to symbolize being reunified after he comes to her rescue.

[plaidos]

seeing how confident you are is a genuine inspiration to me, seeing you stand up for yourself in the face of all the bs you go through gives me comfort that maybe trans women as a collective can push back against the shit we gotta deal with

honestly, 2024 started as a year of abject and unrelenting transmisogyny on this website, and i think that after a while a lot of the girls had had enough and that’s why you’re seeing such solidarity amongst us. it’s been really inspiring for me to see us all sticking up for each other this year. i’ve felt trans unity, amongst transfems & TME transfeminists, unlike any i’ve felt before.

[demigods-posts]

Reasons why Bring on the Monsters from The Lightning Theif musical is an amazing song:

1.) "There's gonna be a fight. There still might be a war. For a moment, we've got danger on the run." Talk about setting the tone. We're in the clear as of today, but something is coming. Something bad.

2.) "Feeling ready🌊" "Feeling stoked🦉" "Feeling quesy🐐". Love how they gave Annabeth the 'feeling stoked' line. Because, of course, she's waiting in the wings, ready to kick ass when need. But it's also hilarious that the actress playing Annabeth is Kristen Stokes. So, I just imagine the writers gave her that line to mess with her.

3.) "Bring on the monsters. Bring on the real world." Like, yeah. They physically spent the majority of this musical in the real world, but they were disconnected from it. The three of them singing this line is a declaration of unity between their human and godly side. They are neither here nor there, not bound to one world, but exist in both.

4.) "They'll be times when your faith is shaken." Yes, your faith in the gods will be on the brink of breaking at any given moment. But so will the faith in yourself. But sometimes, being a demigod means doing it scared. But you won't go it alone.

5.) "Gotta know where the real fight lies when it's time to rise and stand your ground." Annabeth and Clarisse singing about knowing which battles are worth fighting and when is utterly amazing. Because not only are they both children of war gods, but they also canonically struggled with being strong-willed and prideful. It's like even though were at odds at the beginning of the musical, they aren't as different as they first appear.

6.) "No, I'm never gonna once have it easy. I'll make mistakes, but my own, and it frees me." In TLT, Book!Sally says something along the lines of: 'If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.' This is as applicable to a demigod as it is to a mortal. And it's bittersweet because not every demigod gets the chance to choose. Or rather, they don't choose wisely because they're so spiteful when it comes time. But sometimes, you gotta let the anger fade and move forward.

7.) "I'll be back next summer. You'll see me again. I'll be back next summer. I'll survive 'till then." There's something about this line that makes me want to cry. Percy started this musical saying he didn't want to be a half-blood, essentially rejecting the idea of a demigod, but ends the musical declaring his eventual return. He isn't saying goodbye, but a see you later. Which just tugs at my heart strings knowing we'll never get a second musical, but it's okay because Percy's essence extends beyond the Broadway medium. Whether it be a book, musical, movie, or graphic novel, Percy will always be back.

8.) Also, if you listen to the instrumental of this song, the guitar riff at the very end is playing the same melody of 'I didn't wanna to be a half-blood' underneath Percy's declaration of unwavering loyalty to demigods. And it broke me like a bone.

You guys remember these? That's great because I didn't. It just occurred to me that I never finished my analysis of the TLT musical, and I thought I'd get on that. Anyway, this song is fucking incredible, and I want a SOM musical. But I digress.

[win-or-loser]

A New Sport

I just finished Win Or Lose and I am OBSESSED. I had an idea of what Laurie would do after quitting softball and the urge to write was toooooo strong. I hope you like it, and if you don't then I don't care! I wrote this for me! :3

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It was the right choice for Laurie to quit softball. In the passing weeks, she felt calmer, happier, and she hadn't heard from Sweaty since the night of the championship (with the exception of a couple of tests, but that felt like a different matter.) With every week that came and went she felt herself feeling more like... well, herself. She started painting and drawing, and she was pretty good at it. She started learning the violin, and it sounded like a dying cat every time she played, but you gotta start somewhere! But as softball season crept closer and closer, and practices started happening more often, she started to feel left out.

She went to every game, cheering her friends on from the stands, but she still felt like she was missing something. Kai, Rochelle, and Taylor were all laughing at new inside jokes she wasn't a part of, Yuwen and Tom somehow started getting along and wouldn't stop calling each other "bro", and the new kid, Sammy, who took her place was leaps and bounds ahead of her in terms of skill. They were all still friends, of course. And Sammy was pretty cool. But every outing, every school lunch, every sleepover, she felt a little pushed aside. Like she wasn't part of the "in" crowd anymore. She wanted to get back that feeling of unity. That sense of belonging. Of being a part of a team. Something bigger than yourself, where every person and piece, no matter how small, made some kind of contribution to help score a win.

She needed a new sport.

"They're having some soccer tryouts at school," she mentioned to her mom at dinner.

"Oh, that's nice. Do you want to give it a try? You could reuse your softball cleats!"

She somehow managed to hit the ball into the face of both goalies, three teammates, and herself. Soccer was not a good choice.

"I heard the youth club has a volleyball team!" Paula said as she drove them both to their dad's. "Maybe you'd be better at that."

The uniform kept giving her a wedgie and all the girls were mean. Also, she lacked hand-eye coordination. No volleyball.

"Basketball?" Her dad suggested.

The girls were all twice her size, she kept getting hit in the face, and hand-eye coordination again. Basketball, 1. Laurie, 0.

"Maybe tennis."

Hand-eye coordination.

"Track and field!"

She almost died after running one lap.

"Ice hockey?"

No teams nearby to even try that option.

Every failure left her feeling smaller and smaller. Was there any sport she was good at? She almost felt like giving up at this point.

She waited around during practice, watching over the fence as her friends honed their pitches, swings, and catches. She did little cheers for them as they went up to bat and whooped and hollered for every hit. Her voice was sore when they all walked off the field, rushing over for a hug or high five.

"Hey, Laur!" Rochelle hugged her tight. Was she gaining some muscle? She seemed stronger than when they hung out last time. "How's the search been?"

"Could be better..." She said sheepishly.

"Search for what?" Sammy asked from his spot on the ground as he took off his cleats.

"A new sport. Just been feeling kinda bored without something pass the time, ya know?" It wasn't a total lie, but also wasn't the total truth.

"I get that. Anyway, I need to help my mom with dinner and do my chores." Sammy stood up, now wearing a pair of roller skates, and started skating away. "See you guys at school!"

"See ya!" Everyone shouted, waving a quick goodbye to the disappearing boy.

"It's still a few hours before most of us have to go home," Laurie said. "Wanna ride around and see if there's anything to do?"

"Absolutely!"

"Sure!"

"I got nothing better to do."

And off they went on bikes, skateboards, and roller skates, rolling around Peaks Valley to pass the time before they inevitably had to call it a day.

"So you've tried every sport?" Kai asked, slowing down a bit to keep up with Laurie's speed.

"Yeah. I've tried basically everything in Peaks Valley," Laurie said with solemn tone. "I'm just... I'm not good at anything."

"That's just a hobby."

"Don't say that!" Kai reached over and playfully shoved her shoulder. "There's got to be something you're good at. What about your art?"

"But if you work at it, you could be a professional artist and sell it to galleries and stuff."

"Yeah, and when you die, it'll be worth millions!" Oh God, Sweaty was back.

"You gotta remember me when you're a famous painter," Kai said with a playful smirk.

Kai just smiled and shook her head. "As if that'll ever happen..."

Laurie smiled back. "And you better remember me when you're a professional athlete."

"C'mon, slow pokes!" Yuwen yelled from up the sidewalk. "Keep up!"

"We're coming!" Kai sped up on her bike, leaving Laurie struggling in the dust.

Her legs started to hurt, so Laurie stopped and rested. Leaning against the community board outside the park, she watched her friends turn the corner and sighed softly.

"We're probably slowing them down," Sweaty said in her ear. "We should go home."

"You should go home." Laurie swatted at her face, pushing Sweaty away as she tried to catch her breath. She looked up at the posters and fliers, trying to keep her mind occupied. Missing pets and rewards, babysitting services, sports tryouts (that she already failed at). She sighed and went to get back on her bike before something caught her eye. A small poster, hidden by all the others stacked on the board. She reached out and tore it off, holding it close.

"Junior Roller Derby..." It was faded, warped with rain damage. There were two kids drawn on, shoving at each other with their shoulders, decked out in protective pads and wearing roller skates. "Tryouts in River City, April 5th and 6th..." She pulled out her phone, about to search something up before she heard someone skidding in front of her.

"Laur?" Rochelle asked, looking worried. "You coming?"

"Yeah. I just needed a minute." She shoved her phone and the poster back into her pocket, racing off with Rochelle and trying to keep up.

The group rolled around a little bit longer, until the sunset painted their town in golden and orange hues. They rode with everyone to their houses, saying reluctant goodbyes as their group got smaller and smaller until Laurie was riding home alone, her path lit up by the occasional street lights as she went to her mom's house for the night. She tossed her bike in the yard like usual, rushing in and grabbing a plate of food.

"Hi, sweetie! Did you have-"

"Can't talk gotta research love you bye." Laurie took her plate of food and raced upstairs, going to her little laptop and opening way too many chrome tabs. What is roller derby, what are the rules of roller derby, what gear do you need for roller derby, buy skates good cheap, buy pads good cheap, buy skating pads good cheap. She stayed up late into the night, looking up everything she needed, everything she had to practice, all the rules and regulations.

River City was pretty close, so it was still technically a local team. This was the last sport she could try. Her last chance to prove to herself she was good at something. She had one month to tryouts. Hopefully it was enough time...

[hero21us]

The Golden Wave

Trey, a world-class 4x4 Olympian from the Golden Army team, thrives in environments where the stakes are high. Whether it is a grueling race or a championship run, he knows how to channel every ounce of focus into victory. He shows his devotion to the Golden Army by always wearing some piece of gold clothing.

The Golden Army is a force on the field, unstoppable and legendary. Recently it has encountered some formidable rivals that has rattled the Army’s nerves. Knowing they need all the support that can be mustered Trey implements an idea to spread the golden influence and prepare a wide base of support for the team.

It all starts with a simple bet. The office—mostly populated by casual sports fans—is gearing up for a fantasy football pool. Trey suggests an added twist. If anyone’s fantasy team loses to the Golden Army in any given week, they have to wear a Golden Army jersey the following week. If the Golden Army loses he will wear the other jersey for a week and post his support for the other team on social media and not delete it for a year. A harmless challenge, right? But what no one could have predicted is that the jerseys aren’t just symbols of the team—they are transformative.

Trey knows it will be an easy win. At first, it seems like a minor inconvenience. People grumble, but they humor the bet. They put on the jersey, try to go about their day, but something strange happens each time they do.

The moment that golden fabric touches their skin, something shifts. It isn’t just a piece of clothing—it is something alive. The fabric shimmers with an almost hypnotic quality, as if it is infused with the very essence of the team. The jersey feels soft, but it has a weight to it—like it has carried the victories of countless champions. As it settles over their shoulders, it isn’t just the look that changes—it is the feeling.

The first person to truly feel the change is Jake, the office’s loudest critic of the Golden Army. A diehard fan of his own team, Jake is never shy about his disdain for Trey’s squad. Yet, after his fantasy team was trounced in Week 2, he found himself standing in front of a mirror, staring at the golden jersey in his hands. With a deep sigh, he slips it over his head.

The moment the fabric touches his skin, it is as if the world tilts. His pulse quickens, and a strange warmth spreads through his chest. At first, it is subtle—a light buzz at the back of his mind. But then, a deeper shift occurs. Jake straightens his back, his shoulders squared. He inhales deeply, the air around him suddenly charged with energy. This is my team now.

Without even realizing it, he finds himself staring at the team logo with a sense of awe. Golden Army. His thoughts begin to change—he can’t remember why he’d ever been so against them. Instead, all he can think about is their strength, their unstoppable drive, the way they play with such unity and passion. He can’t help but smile, feeling a connection to something much larger than his own previous allegiances.

By the time Jake enters the office the next day, he is a new man. His coworkers can’t believe their eyes as he walks in, proudly sporting the golden jersey, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“You know,” he says, eyes gleaming, “there’s something special about this team. They don’t just play—they dominate. You’ve gotta respect that.”

From there, the transformation spreads like wildfire. Each week, someone else has to wear the jersey—and each time, the effect is the same. At first, people resist. They complain. They try to laugh it off. But soon, they begin to feel it. The golden threads seem to seep into their bones, shifting their focus, igniting a passion they hadn’t known existed.

By Week 5, Trey finds himself walking into the office and seeing more and more people donning that bright, almost blinding gold. People who had once been rivals, doubters, or indifferent to his team are now fervently supporting them. In coffee breaks, in meetings, in the halls—everywhere, you can hear it: Go Gold! There is a power to the jersey that no one can explain, and soon, even the staunchest fans of other teams are chanting for the Golden Army.

The strangest part is’t just the jersey’s effect on their hearts; it is how it changes their minds. People aren’t just wearing the jersey—they are embracing the spirit of the Golden Army. Their loyalty has shifted. They are no longer just watching the games; they are living and breathing the team’s victories. They follow the Golden Army’s every move, from their boldest plays to their most heart-stopping comebacks. No longer satisfied with wearing the gold jersey they begin decorating the office with team memorabilia and items of support.

Trey watches in both amusement and awe as the jersey’s power continues to spread. His coworkers start recruiting their families, their friends, even strangers. It isn’t just about winning anymore; it is about being part of something. Something unstoppable. Something golden.

By Week 10, the office has become a veritable sea of gold. But that is just the beginning. As the weeks pass, the Golden Army’s influence begin to leak out of the office and into the streets. People wear the jerseys to the grocery store, to the gym, to their kids’ soccer games. Businesses in town start decorating their storefronts in gold. Bars serve up "Golden" cocktails. Local restaurants create special menu items like “Golden Wings” and “Golden Fries.”

By the time the Super Bowl arrives, it feel like the entire city has been touched by the Golden Army’s spirit. The streets are filled with gold—flags waving from car windows, faces painted with the team’s emblem, and jerseys everywhere. People who never cared about American football before are now gathered in groups, watching the Super Bowl in restaurants, in homes, on street corners. All shouting for Gold to prevail.

Trey stands watching with satisfaction knowing that his work is done.

[radiostudio07]

Huntlow establishes earlier??? How did that happen?!? (Sorry I just love toh AUs and yours along with your art just scratches my brain in the rigth way....)

HEEHEEHEE THIS IS A BIGGUN

YOU DONE INCURRED MY WRATH ANON >:) okay so! the timeline of events is stretched out further than in the show, so the day of unity is further off, the hexsquad is in the human realm a bit longer, etc etc. in the au, hunter actually does take up Luz's offer to stay at The Owl House!

and lots of his time spent there is like... being another source of information like the echo mouse was! he was way more in-the-know about Belos and his motivations, so he actually had some valuable knowledge that Luz ends up utilizing down the line

buuut the majority of his time was spent being carefully and slowly 'de-programmed' with the help of Luz and Eda! ofc a side effect of that was he got to be warmed up to everybody sooner since they'd check in with Luz and also see a very very lost Hunter roaming the halls and ofc they gotta ask about that

but they slowly help Hunter get better! he learns to not take everything as an order or a task to be completed. he gets to mess up without the threat of punishment and another scar. but it's not exactly enough to completely undo everything that Belos put in his head

things like Penstagram and Scrolls as mobile phones arent really a thing in this au, so Hunter and Willow didn't start up on conversation through Penstagram after the equivalent events of Any Sport in a Storm, so when Hunter started staying at The Owl House, they got to visiting with each other there in person! and ofc Willow helped out with looking after Hunter, so plenty of time to connect

they dont really become a thing right then and there, but they do when they're in the Human Realm!

see, i've mentioned Hunter as extremely robotic before and thats true! but an important note is that behavior is a side-effect of his time as the Golden Guard

when he has nothing to do, he just stands totally still, head down, staring into nothing. it's just what he would have done when he was in the castle, awaiting new orders...

and in the Human Realm, it takes the hexsquad quite a bit of time to accept Hunter, this prior menace and valuable servant to Belos, as... a person, more or less! and thats not on them, they've all been witness to some of the terminator shenanigans he gets up to. you ever watch GOTG and see how Nebula heals broken bones? he did that shit on the DAILY and has absolutely taken lives in front of them. even if they know that his atrocities were because of the control Belos placed over him, they have a hard time making that seperation at first.

they do try, but they often had 'habits' when talking with him, ones that only served to accidentally dehumanize Hunter in subtle ways, like...

kind of just gently moving hunter by the shoulders instead of asking him to move

really being overly thorough and slow with explanations like they're talking to Siri

ppl checking to see if hes 'awake' via just. waving their hands in his face or snapping. happens most often when hes zoning out

talking about 'humankind' and 'witchkind' as if they're seperate from him

not all of these are exhibited by the entire cast, ofc, that'd be awful! but it should illustrate how he was viewed for a while

the only person to really speak to him without any undertone, without any minute trace of the aforementioned behavior was Willow!

for that, Hunter adored her. even atop of the admiration he formed with the Emerald Entrails stint, he found so, so much joy in just hearing her speak to him, totally devoid of the subtle inadvertent judgement he had been dealing with his entire life...

and we all know about their respective labels (Caleb, half-a-witch, etc), the difference between their true selves and the names placed on them by others...

but with this, Willow didn't get the time to really learn and process that Hunter is just a shy teenager held down by his ambitions as the Golden Guard, because that's not what this is

this Hunter had absolutely no outlets, no earthly connections or desires because that was the person Belos had broken him into from a young age. the mask of being the Golden Guard wasn't a facade to hide a soft interior. no, there was nothing behind it in this case

being the Golden Guard was everything that Hunter ever knew. he was a blank slate and totally lost without the mask, which was proven with how he behaves after the events of Hollow Mind

Willow got to witness firsthand that he is just.. so absolutely broken and empty without his life in the Emperor's Coven, even if that life was miserable without him knowing it. his blank stares and lack of drive to do anything were because of some part of his mind still grasping onto the """comfort""" of being the Emperor's most trusted tracker

again, a blank slate.

and Willow was able to see through the idleness, his constant "i'm fine" reassurances and pick up that he needs all the support he can get. everything to assure that he viewed himself as more than the empty pit he became. Luz had gotten started on establishing that general message, of Hunter being his own person, but it was Willow that really solidified that with him

she was NOT going to let him go down that dark path at all and started guiding the others in helping him out! making it clear what he needs! he started forming hobbies, getting into sewing because of Vee and Camila, getting into Cosmic Frontier with Gus... all of this teaching him not only that he is his own person, but that he can do things for himself!

and hunter absolutely noticed what Willow was doing for him, how she set things into motion that would save his life and completely clear Belos' influence from his mind

[sanders1665]

I’ve just got to be honest. No curated pretense, no filtered angle, no morally righteous social hashtag to tuck this behind. Just this: I’ve been smoking nature’s gift a hell of a lot more lately—and not out of rebellion or some half-baked attempt to be “one with the cosmos.” No. It's triage. Medicinal. A survival strategy for the modern madhouse.

Why? Christ, where do I start?

Pick your poison. The politics? Let’s not kid ourselves. It’s not governance anymore, it’s showbiz for the syndicate. Slick-haired avatars of leadership, propped up like digital marionettes in $5,000 suits, shaking hands with devils behind closed doors while preaching "unity" through clenched veneers. You can practically hear the whir of backroom deals being faxed to Lucifer’s desk.

It’s business—always has been. Wars are profit margins. Legislation is leverage. Every bill passed has a corporate sponsor grinning in the wings, ready to cash in on the aftermath. These aren’t leaders; they’re glorified middlemen for the billionaire class, selling morality like it's a limited edition sneaker drop. And the worst part? The lies aren’t even subtle anymore—they're printed, posted, and televised in full HD while the herd cheers or jeers, depending on which cult they’ve been branded into.

And now the cracks are showing. The Epstein files. The P. Diddy implosions. The parties behind gilded doors where the drinks flow and the cameras are conveniently “off.” How many of our smiling, vote-chasing icons were there, lurking in the shadows of those sick little kingdoms? We see the photos, the flight logs, the faint whiff of untouchable power, and yet—they’re still in office. Still pretending to be shepherds of the people while fleecing the last threads of decency from the system.

Why do we trust them? Why do we let them keep running this sleaze parade?

We’ve been conditioned to believe that the rot is just part of the furniture. That the system, no matter how compromised, must be preserved. But what if the system itself is the infection? A rigged game with pre-picked winners, the rest of us watching from the cheap seats, high on tribal loyalty and low on memory.

It’s not left vs. right anymore. It’s predator vs. prey. And the predators are feeding in plain sight.

And as for morality—forget it. That currency’s been devalued to Monopoly money. What passes for “ethics” now is just another social media set piece, staged and rehearsed for max engagement. Disingenuous people masquerading as good Samaritans, generous benefactors, armchair saints—just make sure they’ve got the latest super-duper iPhone, an expensive microphone, and their carefully selected “person of interest” standing by for the big virtue showcase. Oh, and don’t forget the catchy hashtag and the editing suite—gotta trim out anything too real, too raw, or too revealing that might get them demonetized. Can’t have sincerity interfering with the algorithm.

Goodness without an audience is obsolete. You don’t give anymore—you perform. Altruism has been hijacked by influencers with messiah complexes and brand deals, their "compassion" timed perfectly to trending hashtags and monetized grief. It’s a carnival of virtue signaling, where the most polished pretenders wear halos built from pixels and clout.

Another reason I might be smoking more? Maybe I’m just becoming more and more disappointed in the human condition—this increasingly desperate, neurotic need to be noticed, to be rich, to be dubiously famous. Everyone wants the spotlight now. It's become the altar of the spiritually bankrupt. The stage is littered with attention-seeking whores, all clambering for their moment of artificial relevance.

I’ll stay right up there at the back of the theater, thanks—where the lights and cameras never reach. Where the silence still exists, where I can observe without participating, where I can breathe without performing.

Social feeds vomit negativity with the precision of an industrial sprinkler. Every scroll is a shot of despair. The truth? Shoved into the corner wearing a tinfoil dunce cap while sacred knowledge—ancient truths, the kind whispered by stone and star—is ridiculed by people who think memes are gospel.

Maybe it’s just my age. Sixty years of watching this parade of disappointment, still baffled that we haven’t hit the cosmic reset button and sent ourselves back to fire and sticks. We've done it before—hundreds of times. Civilizations rise, get too clever for their own good, then implode under the weight of ego and bad decisions. We're the latest version. The current beta test. The question is—do we evolve this time? Do we merge into the next era with A.I. dragging us toward enlightenment? Or do we burn out in a blaze of arrogance, tribal tantrums, and sheer bloody-minded stupidity?

Maybe I smoke more because I just need to numb myself from the noise. The circus. The constant drone of human madness. But I still function. I still wear the masks, laugh at the jokes, give the right nods and shrugs. I do my thing quietly, moving through the static with a smirk and a half-shrug, watching everyone perform their personalized psychodramas like actors who forgot the play.

People are going to do their crazy things. I just don’t want their crazy spilling over into my yard. It’s bad enough being shovel-fed this mental trash on every app, every screen—like psychological fast food designed to keep us bloated, paranoid, and spiritually constipated.

Anyway, another day in the asylum comes to an end. The sun melts down into the orange hush of dusk. The birds sing like nothing’s wrong. And for a brief, silent moment, I almost believe them.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 044

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (2.2k words 💀)

❥･• chapter 44 - i will go to you like the first snow

With a soft smile playing on your lips, you stroll at the back, quietly observing the girls as they excitedly chatter among themselves. Your heart swells with affection as you watch their camaraderie, their bond shining brightly like a beacon of hope. There’s an undeniable warmth that fills the air, a sense of accomplishment and victory that lingers around your team.

As you make your way to the green room, anticipation builds within you—tonight is the night of your collaboration performance with ENHYPEN. Moments ago, Lumière, against all odds, stood on the grand stage of MAMA, accepting the prestigious Rookie of the Year award. It's an honour that can only be claimed once, reserved solely for those who are still on the path of discovery, brimming with untapped potential. You find comfort in the fact that the seven of you persevered, managing to come out on top of all the shit and drama that threatened to break you apart.

Clutching the trophy in your hand, you find reassurance in its weight. It serves as a tangible reminder—a testament to your capabilities as Lumière's leader and how you haven’t somehow already managed to fucked things up completely.

In fact, it's proof that you've flourished—a growth that can't be measured by external validation alone. It's a sense of resilience, unity, and growth within the team, forged through fighting on the front lines of a glorified excuse for a brutal industry. You are convinced that this is the reason that your team emerged victorious in the face of adversity.

As you revel in the victory, a sudden yelp escapes your lips when an unknown force pulls you to the side, leading you into a dimly lit room. Panic washes over you, momentarily clouding your senses, but just as quickly, a familiar voice pierces through the darkness, soothing your racing heart. "Hi there, Princess, it's me," he utters, his voice a gentle caress.

Your eyes gradually adjust to the dimness, revealing the captivating sight before you; Heeseung, your now-boyfriend, stands there, his doe-like eyes filled with an affectionate glow. Your racing heart settles, and a smile graces your lips. In the dimness, his features become more defined, and you're captivated by his tender expression. It’s almost as if right behind the door you are currently being pinned against aren’t a myriad of people who could and would bring you and Heeseung’s careers down with ease if they so desired to.

However, in the intimate space, time seems to suspend, granting you a stolen moment together. His presence is a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world. His hand reaches out, his thumb gently tracing circles on the side of your ribs, his touch sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. The room becomes a universe of its own, where only the two of you exist. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished.

"I wanted to steal a moment alone with you," he whispers, his voice full of tenderness. "Congratulations, Y/N. I’m so proud of you…” Heeseung trails off as his gaze finds its destination on your lips; the corner of your lips twitches upward, and a flicker of amusement dances in your eyes as you catch on to his intentions.

“Are you really here to congratulate me?” You tease, raising an eyebrow in playful scepticism. Heeseung lets out a mock scoff and mischievously pokes your sides, knowing damn well that you were ticklish. You let out a sharp scream, and Heeseung internally panics as he quickly covers your mouth with his palm. Your wide-eyed gazes lock as the both of you try your hardest to hold in the urge to laugh, though you fail miserably after a few seconds.

"They're probably searching for me right now, but I'll catch you later?" you say, flashing a warm smile. Reluctantly, Heeseung releases his hold on your waist, but not before placing a gentle, chaste kiss on your cheek. The touch of his lips sends a delightful shiver down your spine, and you playfully smack his chest, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. Glancing around the empty room, though well aware that no one is watching, you can't help but feel a shy thrill in the air.

A wild surge of confidence courses through your veins, emboldening you to lean in and place a mischievous peck, this time not on his cheeks but on his lips. The brief contact sends a jolt of electricity between you, and Heeseung's mind struggles to catch up with the sudden intimacy. Before he can fully comprehend what just happened, you swiftly dart out of the room, leaving him standing there, his heart racing and his lips tingling with the lingering warmth of your kiss.

As ENHYPEN wraps up their performance, your heart races, only this time from the excitement of your impending collaboration stage. Not even for your own group’s stage were you this nervous. Standing with the rest of the girls backstage, you anxiously wait for the slight intermission as the boys hurriedly change into their stage outfits for "Twilight," perfectly matching the aesthetic of your own.

In the midst of the backstage chaos, your eyes lock with Heeseung's, and a mischievous spark dances between you. He flashes you a cheeky grin—an unspoken invitation laced with playful intent. You try your best to ignore it to maintain your composure, but a subtle smile unconsciously tugs at the corners of your lips.

The intermission seems to stretch on forever as anticipation builds, amplifying the energy pulsating through your veins. Every passing second feels like an eternity, and you can't help but steal glances in Heeseung's direction, his presence becoming a magnetic force drawing you closer.

Finally, the stage lights dim, and the familiar opening notes of "Twilight" fill the air. It's time. With synchronised precision, you and the girls take your positions on stage, your hearts pounding with a mixture of nerves and exhilaration.

As the spotlight finds you, casting an ethereal glow, you catch Heeseung's gaze once again. There's an undeniable connection, an unspoken understanding that transcends the boundaries of the stage. The music swells, enveloping you both in its enchanting embrace, and you allow yourself to surrender to the magic of the moment. In perfect harmony, your voices intertwine, creating a symphony that resonates deep within the souls of everyone present. The chemistry between you and Heeseung is palpable, a magnetic pull that draws the audience into your world, captivated by the raw emotions you convey through your performance.

With every step and every note, you communicate a hidden language, expressing emotions that words fail to convey as the distance between you and Heeseung diminishes until you find yourselves standing face to face, your voices harmonising in perfect unity. The stage fades away, and it's as if there are only the two of you, suspended in a world of music and unspoken desires as you lean into the ending pose of your solos.

"Thanks for bringing us back, Manager-nim," you say, bowing respectfully as you watch your team's father figure drive off in the van that had brought you home. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of serenity as the girls process their whirlwind of emotions, almost as if they were still trying to distinguish between the realms of dreams and reality. Reality is—you, the girls, and ENHYPEN absolutely broke the internet after your collaboration stage.

It’s not like you did not expect this reaction, but when you see your name trending right beside that of Heeseung, you can’t help but feel scared. God, you couldn’t even bring yourself to click onto your name, in fear that the hate comments would be too much for you to handle. Despite Heeseung reassuring you multiple times that he didn’t care what people had to say about you, hate comments are still hate comments. To be frank, it doesn’t even bother you. What bothers you is what people had to say about Heeseung; how him being around you is going to eventually end up ruining him and his career. Times like this, you curse at your altruistic nature for caring too much about the people around you over yourself. Unbeknownst to you, it’s actually one of the few attributes that Heeseung admires about you.

Your gaze shifts to Ray, who clings tightly to Aejeong, lost in her own thoughts while marvelling at the Rookie of the Year trophy that the team had miraculously secured. You’re reminded of the whole messy ordeal three months ago, and you release a sigh of relief that the two girls are now as close as they can possibly get.

In the frigid winter night, with the cover of the night and temperatures well below zero, it's no wonder that any passerby would be puzzled to see you all just standing there. Yoon breaks the silence, voicing the sentiment that's been on everyone's mind. "Gosh, I can't believe it's over," she says, her words hanging in the air.

“Three months of hard work for those three minutes is actually mind-blowing,” Minjung adds, though her soul didn't seem fully intact. You were all exhausted, and it shows so evidently in the way you spoke and walked, but your spirits remain high, resonating with vibrant energy. With a chuckle, you sling your arm around the youngest member, bringing her back to the present. "Let's go inside, shall we? It's freezing!" you suggest, and the other girls nod instinctively as the voice of their trusted leader fills the air.

Just as you're about to step into the warmth of the dorm, your phone chimes, followed by a message from Heeseung.

*more text below*

You cautiously scan your surroundings, ensuring that you're alone as you slowly approach the obscure spot atop a small hill just off the main roads of the Han River. As Heeseung had said, there wasn’t a single soul present in the vicinity, and you figured that no sane person was stupid enough to sit by the Han River at 2 a.m. in the morning, in the middle of winter at that.

You look around for Heeseung, but he is nowhere to be seen, and you wonder if he really froze to death before you got there. You chuckle as you spot the familiar silver hair peeking out behind a tree, which did not actually do much to hide his huge frame.

“Hmm… I wonder where Lee Heeseung could be.” You taunt, injecting a hint of sarcasm into your voice, as you stand by the tree.

“Haha, you’re so funny.” Heeseung pouts, revealing himself and immediately enveloping you in his embrace. He gently rests his chin atop your head, reminding you once again that this man effortlessly towers over you, in contrast to the multiple times he had his head nestled in your chest as he slept. Leaning into his warmth, you press your cheeks against the sturdy frame of his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. This is real, and Lee Heeseung is unquestionably not a mere figment of your imagination.

“What’s gotten into you? You’ve been so clingy lately.” Your words were muffled in his chest but still audible for him to hear.

“I don’t know… Every time I have a moment to breathe, my mind just wanders off to you. It makes me wonder what it would be like if we weren't idols—I could see you more often and wake up by your side. No need to constantly worry about dispatch or sasaengs, just you and me," he confesses, his voice tinged with conflicted emotions, hinting that this has been weighing on his mind for longer than he let on.

You pull away from his embrace before bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks in your palms, tip-toeing to place a tender kiss on his forehead. “Lee Heeseung, this is your dream. I don’t want you second-guessing yourself when you worked so hard to get here. No matter what, it will always be you and me—just against the world.”

With those words, Heeseung pulls you in, his lips meeting your own in a soft, syncronised chaconne. The intensity of the moment threatens to escalate into a passionate makeout session if it weren’t for the cold sensation of what felt like a snowflake landing on the tip of your nose.

“Look! It’s snowing!” You exclaim, stretching out your palm towards the sky with childlike excitement. Heeseung watches fondly, his gaze filled with nothing but utmost affection for the woman he never imagined he’d be with at the start of all this.

“Now you have nothing to worry about, Hee,” you reassure him, your smile so gentle that it melts even the deepest crevices of his heart, instantly warming him up.

“You know what they say, that witnessing the first snowfall with the person you like ensures true and lasting love.” Memories of your mother's wise words flood your mind, harking back to a time when you were oblivious to the concept of love as you frolicked in the snow. Now, you can confidently say you know what it feels like to love and be loved.

Lost in the enchantment of the falling snowflakes, you stare wistfully at the sky, unaware that Heeseung has swiftly snapped a photo of you; capturing this moment he did not ever want to forget. He found his place in your arms, as you have found yours in his. For as long as the universe permits, he’ll keep you close, his hands on you, shielding you from the world's adversities. As you said, it’s just you and him against the world.

“Y/N,” Heeseung’s voice breaks the serene silence of the night, and you turn to face him.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” With that, you know instantly you’d forever and always go to him like the first snow, telling him over and over again that you love him too before it manages to melt.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i hope y’all enjoyed reading this chapter because this took me forever to write 😭😭 anw we’re reaching the end soon!!!

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[theaceace]

Ok so when Rose gives the heart back to unity once more rendering her the vortex and then she dies in her sleep, something goes wrong (either because Desire set a sneaky trap or because it's close enough to breaking the rules of Endless not hurting family) that there's an explosive reaction, and when the chaos dies down Rose is still in the dreaming even though that definitely should have woken her up and Dream is nowhere to be found

Now Rose is stuck in the dreaming, and after a quick five minutes of panicking, comes to the conclusion with Lucienne and Unity that she'll have to track Dream down and get him to fix this. Lucienne needs to return to the palace to keep the dreaming running smoothly, Unity despite seeming chill about it has just DIED and also has never actually used any of her vortex powers the way Rose has and I'm basically just handwaving the fact that Rose is going to have to search for Dream on her own

Or not entirely on her own! Matthew is there, because every young woman embarking on a solo adventure needs a sassy talking animal sidekick, them's the rules

So Rose and Matthew set out on a trek through the dreaming, and this is the point where I could get wildly creative if I had the brainpower, and come up with fantastical dreamworlds

Because this is an AU and I say that being the descendent of an Endless should have some perks, Rose can still travel between dreams, she just can't affect them/the waking world or bring down the walls between dreams the way she could before. She's more akin to Matthew or Lucienne than a vortex, despite being human and aliveSo they spend a while chasing dead ends and leads that go nowhere until they wind up in some dream set in a pretty normal pub, and in true dreamlogic fashion there are people in clothes that come from a mishmash of the last 7 centuries, eating by rushlight while on their phones. But! Rose looks over and there's Dream! Amazing, they found him!

Matthew's like uhhhhh, I've spent a lotta time with the bossman, Rose, I'm not so sure that's - but it's too late she's already marching over

Meanwhile, Hob has been having a really nice dream in which his Stranger enjoys his company and didn't stand him up and doesn't wander off to 'inspire' any upstart playwrights and smiles at him like he did when they finally met up again a couple of weeks ago or whenever it was. He really wasn't expecting it to be interrupted by a girl rushing over to grab his Stranger's shoulder all excited about how we've found you Dream we were so worried are you ok???

And look. Hob is pretty used to rolling with the punches. After seven hundred years on planet earth, you gotta be. But this is, he hates to say, a pretty fucking weird turn for his dream to take usually it turns more toward his Stranger bending him over the table ahem

Also there's a talking bird. Why not

Rose has now realised that this Dream is not, in fact, the real Dream. BUT that means this guy must know Dream! Maybe he can help out? And Matthew is like wait, wait a second. You. YOU'RE the guy the boss went all starry-eyed (literally) over???

Hob reckons uuuuuhhhhh probably not? Took him seven hundred years to admit they're friends, and Matthew is like holy shit that hussy

Anyway I want Rose Hob and Matthew to go on a roadtrip adventure to save Dream is what I'm getting at. I was to continue the glorious tradition of Hob learning things about his friend (😍) thanks to other people and not from his friend himself (😭). I want Hob to play accidental therapist to Rose like he does to his students. I want Matthew to mock him mercilessly. I want Hob to sometimes be an asshole. I want them to BOND

And I want them to make it to the house of secrets and the house of mysteries where Hob is forcibly reminded that he was raised a Catholic medieval peasant when he sits down for tea with Cain and Abel (who think that Gadling would be an excellent name for a gargoyle if Morpheus ever makes another).

I want Abel to offhandedly mention something unspeakably horrible in the basement, but when Rose opens that door it just leads into a big fancy hallway? They go through anyway, and something feels different about this dream. Matthew is all 'I got a bad feeling about this' because Patton Oswalt loves Star wars and I think it's funny. Maybe they see a stuffed raven with a white breast in a room of taxidermied animals

So they keep looking, and eventually Hob finds a door leading to a basement, cracks a silly joke about finding something unspeakably horrible down there to cover up the fact that he's actually fucking terrified (he's come to accept that this is not a dream in the traditional sense, although it took way longer than it should have), and heads down the staircase

(It's the snow globe)

And here I start to run out of momentum a bit but like. I think Hob Rose and Matthew deserve to come together to roast the shit out of Dream while Lucienne tracks their progress from the library with Unity and Merv, who are also roasting the shit out of Dream, and all roasting comes to an abrupt and choked end when they get to the basement

Maybe Dream has been reduced to a cloud of swirling black sand in the orb, or maybe he looks almost exactly as he did in reality, maybe the Dream Team have to get him out but in order for that to happen he has to allow them to help, or maybe he needs to free himself because something something it's a metaphor idk. Maybe Dream, in whatever state he's in, panics at the sight of his bae friend, his raven, and his niece all outside the glass just like Jessamy was. Maybe he tries to throw them all out of the dream, but he's weakened himself as though he really were trapped in the circle again, and Rose is able to stand her ground against him.

And idk I don't really have an ending beyond 'Dream gets out and everyone is OK and also Rose and Hob end up being exasperated penpals over Dream's... Dream-ness.

[sunderedandundone]

SkekGra, UrGoh and the big Blow-Up

One of these days I'll get this written up in a proper fic, but for now, here's the Vulgate summary of what happens not long after the Conqueror and the Wanderer have their vision and start traveling together along the Black River Road: POV: our two are actually Not Doing Too Bad re coming together over the twin notions that 1) hey, maybe reuniting would feel more whole and right, and 2) maybe saving the planet is also a good idea

THEN SkekGra spots a detachment of enemy soldiers/messengers riding along the road, in the rough direction of where they know their army is encamped SkekGra: Okay NOPE, I have no idea what they mean to do to my army but they sure as shit don't get to do it

UrGoh: No dude, please I can't stand it when you kill people, and also we're supposed to be unifying and saving the planet remember

SkekGra: NOPE sorry. Gotta keep the enemy off my troops so time for them to die ::hares off to behead everybody::

UrGoh: Oh jeez. All right, think UrGoh...I...REALLY should...do something...about this

UrGoh cont: But...what the hell...can I do...I def can't...jump into...battle

UrGoh cont: But maybe...I could interpose...my literal body...between them and those soldiers...

UrGoh: Yeah...that'll do it...okay, quickly now...let's go

::SkekGra comes back up the hill drenched in the blood of the vanquished::

SkekGra: Okay glad that's taken care of, let's move on

And then UrGoh is like: "........."

UrGoh: Um...no

UrGoh: I'm sorry, this vibe is harshed

More UrGoh: That was an incredibly awful thing to do, and also incredibly not-GraGoh

SkekGra: Oh really? You don't know from GraGoh, let ME tell you some *shit* about GraGoh

::growing bombshadow::

UrGoh: I know GraGoh would never have done...that

SkekGra: No, GraGoh never did half the shit it wanted to do, it wanted to build a great society, it wanted to lay all its discoveries at Homeworld's feet saying see the gifts we have for you, see the wonders we have brought you...but it didn't want to do what that would take, so it resigned itself to losing forever

UrGoh: ...Not forever! We just didn't want to win by violence

SkekGra: Oh and how were we going to do it? With sweet-talk? How many more thousand trine would that've taken? And it was ready to give up after just one! Nope, I'm the one who went out and made our dream reality, and this ::works bloody fingers:: -- this is the price of that. You weren't willing to pay it. I am

UrGoh: ...

SkekGra: And you think Homeworld didn’t know that? After their cruelty to us Fallen, you still think UrSkek unity was originally bought with nothing but love? You seriously believe they care what we do to this primitive-ass planet?

UrGoh: If that was our dream...then it was the wrong dream

SkekGra: ::lunging to strike a nearby tree just past UrGoh's head:: UNGRATEFUL WHELP.

SkekGra: Always the condemnations. Always the carping from you Mystics about how we're exploiting Thra, yet you're happy to benefit from it -- everything we've squeezed from the Crystal has kept you alive too, or do you pretend you'd still be here without it?

UrGoh: NO. We...don't w-want...that stolen life...

SkekGra: Then STOP US!!

SkekGra: ::bending their snarling face down to UrGoh's:: STOP ME.

SkekGra: ::withdrawing after a moment:: But you never will, will you. Anyway, nighty night

UrGoh: :'-( :'-( :'-(

***

::Dawn dawns::

::SkekGra arises::

::There's no UrGoh::

::They and their doob smoke are all gone::

SkekGra: O_O

SkekGra: ... :-(

SkekGra: UrGoh???

SkekGra: YOU KNOW HOW FAST I CAN CATCH UP WITH YOU RIGHT, YOU CRAWLING *NEBRIE*?

SkekGra: ...fine just go

***

SkekGra: ::attempts to go back to Conquering::

SkekGra: ::is now completely failing at Conquering::

SkekGra: ::can't concentrate on anything::

SkekGra: ::realizes to their horror that this is just not going to work anymore::

:SkekGra: ::is 100% the one who breaks first, and goes off tracking UrGoh down::

Meanwhile UrGoh: ::is desperate, despairing, and in total existential crisis::

UrGoh: ::seeks out UrVa::

UrGoh: So like there's this prophecy to save the planet, UrSkek visions and Darkening poison and the Conqueror repenting, except not really and standing there drenched in blood instead and I'm still vomiting thinking of it...and BTW should I even BE trying to fulfill this prophecy and become this thing that SkekGra just reminded me was really kinda fucked up -- but OTOH y'know, extinction-level disaster and vision from Thra, and also, I've never felt so whole before as I do with them -- so anyway what do you think, other half of SkekMal

UrVa: ............................ UrVa: .......would you like some hot tea

UrGoh: .......yes please, and would you like a doob to go with

UrVa: ...Wouldn't normally indulge especially because Thra only knows what you've spiked it with but, in the circumstances........okay

And then SkekGra finds them there and swears off Conquering Forever and, well, basically crawls (sorry Gra, but you did). And that's when they start trying to rebuild the shattered foundation of their relationship from scratch all over again, with thankfully much better success eventually. But it starts out PRETTY GOD DAMN ROUGH. ~fin :-D

[chondrichthyes-x-mantodea]

This is going to offend a lot of people, but I gotta say it to feel some sense of unity and sanity. I cannot stand the culture that surrounds pregnancy. And for this post I'll focus on cases of miscarriage. The disparity between how men and women act and societal attitude with two radicals makes me feel so weird about it. Duh, it sucks. It's not a baby, but it's losing the potential of a baby. But why is that sadness seen as some animalistic maternal grief? Especially when men can cause the issue that led to a fetus becoming inviable AND furthermore causing extreme danger to his female partner. To me it's a separation of men from the process, a romantic culture around pregnancy, a lack of education, and a lot of conditioned self-hate into women. The same thing happens here as what happens when a child is born. The woman becomes an emotional, simplistic "mommy" while her male owner observes. And to me this culture almost seems more enamored with the idea of pregnancy needing to be beautiful rather than focus on a woman being in potential danger. Pregnancy is common to fail, especially in a medical system that won't see male involvement for the life of them and see female as baby containers. It doesnt help when all you hear is women blaming themselves and feeling guilty over something that is common that they were socialized to see as a innately positive thing, and a lot of what you hear from others is blaming her themselves. As much as a loss can suck, the attitude around it makes me feel as if its deeper than it seems. The fact that people also make a bigger deal over it than an actual child dying, it all points towards the function being seen as romantic and "beautiful" rather than priority over a woman's wellbeing. People make it into like a weird theater performance a woman has to cater for them. It feels like wherever you go, women have to put on a performance rather than be genuine and complex. It has to become some weird "mama mommy" ushy infantile shit not real sadness like men experience. And it's different for everyone. Some women don't care some do. You understand it for men but not us. It's just odd it feels like a cycle that conditions women to hurt themselves while men just sit back and enjoy the show like we're their hurt puppy or something